Chapter 1
He didn’t know what to expect. No, that wasn’t true. He knew exactly what he was expecting, and this wasn’t it. As the breeze off the Nile stirred the Wallace plaid of Caleb’s tartan kilt, he shook off the feelings and images of prophecy as his own imagination playing games him, “Get hold of yourself, Caleb, ‘tis only your own minds fancy!” He continued down toward the Antechamber doors. All evidence of markings in the corridor had long since been worn away by tide and time, and what had once been a man-made structure was now a nature-carved hollow visible only at the lowest tide. The cave was supposed to have led to the tomb of a very important woman of Ancient Egypt, who predated the first Pharaoh of Egypt.
Upon reaching the entrance to the Antechamber, he was yet again surprised. The ten-foot tall, five-foot wide, two-foot thick doors were made of solid gold, not stone, as they should have been. All fifty square feet were carved with pictographs and hieroglyphs that described a warning repeated over and over to any who disturbed the tomb. At first glance, Caleb dismissed the warning as the usual “curse of the mummy” writings. But upon closer examination, and two more translations, he changed his mind.
“Let you who would enter here be warned:
Disturb the Goddess at your peril,
For her duties to Egypt are not taken lightly.”
The word “Goddess” had momentarily thrown him, but after the third translation put it off to either flattery or a typo. Even so, he was awed by the workmanship to the point that he had to touch the doors to assure himself that they were really there. Upon doing so, the massive portals swung open of their own accord to reveal the Antechamber. A chill ran up the Scot’s spine.
The carvings and writings in the antechamber raised the hairs on the back of his neck. They described in vivid detail the repercussions of not following the warning on the door. The thought of how bloodthirsty this one could have been scared the living hell out of him - until he remembered that she was dead. He set himself to looking at the statues in the room after realizing that she was not actually depicted on the walls. But they were no help, being statues of the Goddesses Bast and Sekhmet and of the Gods Ra, Horus, and Ptah. The thought that she might have been a favored priestess ran through his mind. The perusal of the antechamber completed, he moved to the doorway to the burial chamber. Again, not what he was expecting.
There was no sarcophagus!
Instead there were furs laid upon an alter-like table in the center of a very well lit room. But this was only the first of many surprises! The next came in the form of two very alive white Bengal Tigers easily twice the normal size slowly rising and advancing on him. Part of his mind recalled the scroll that had led him here and the instructions it had given. And while the other part of his mind remained frozen with fear, the warnings of the scroll caused his tongue to defrost with rapid speed!
Speaking in the language of the Ancient Temples he said, “Sharra, Nakurr, I bid you, awaken your mistress from her long sleep to search my heart. There is no malice in my soul nor hatred in my heart, I am humble in her presence and seek only her love.”
At the mention of their names they stopped and listened to him as he spoke, and when he had finished, they rose and went to the alter. One of them, Nakurr according to the scroll, jumped up onto the alter and began to nuzzle something in the furs. The sound of a male voice coming from the cat’s mouth was almost as startling as the soft moan that came from the furs. “Awake, my mistress. The mortals call you again,” the tiger said, the first of many shocks that would rearrange his life. The feline actually spoke aloud!
A very beautiful, feminine, and powerful voice uttered from the woman’s mind and into his own,
“I told you before my rest, Nakurr, to eat the very next mortal to walk into this chamber.”Laughter shook the huge cat as he spoke again, “But mistress, he has not actually stepped into the chamber.”
“Eat him anyway and leave me to my rest, you insolent cat!” came the angry, yet sleepy, reply.
“You know better than that, mistress! We are not allowed to leave the chamber without you, as you know very well. And he spoke Odar’s words, not the words of another,” at that he leaped down and sat next to his mate.
“Well, why didn’t you say so, bothersome feline! Speak the words and bid him enter.” No movement or sound aside from the initial moan had come from the furs during the course of the conversation. The cats turned their blue eyes to the man and moved to the doorway.
“Your heart has been weighed and measured, mortal man. Enter and wake the Goddess to have it judged, “ as Caleb moved into the room the cats flanked him.
He became apprehensive as he approached the altar. Once there, Caleb realized the truth of the words he had spoken. He truly wished for this woman to love him.
Lying in the pelts was a woman covered in fur that resembled the cats, which now sat on either side of him. A mass of black hair broken only by a white streak framed a beautiful face with high cheekbones and eyes that turned up at the corners giving an impish look to her face, ending in luscious lips that begged to be kissed. Beautiful hands that were graced with feline-like nails that could rip him to shreds if she so desired were folded atop a generous bosom. From there his eyes went to her waist, which he was positive he could span with both hands easily. Generous hips flared to long graceful legs, the sight of which was broken only by a feline tail that moved gently over her ankles.
A nudge from Nakurr’s massive head reminded Caleb of his duty and startled him as the cat spoke again, “Speak the words of Odar, mortal, or perish. Painfully.”
Caleb turned to the sleeping form before him and took a deep breath, “Judge my heart, Fair One, and if I am found lacking, slay me. I give my heart into your hands.” That is where the words from the scroll stopped. But as he looked at her eyes still closed in slumber, he added, “I place myself into your service and would be in your heart if you would but allow it. I would be your slave, your servant, and your Champion if you will but awaken and find me worthy. My love and life I give to you, offered into your keeping for all time to do with as you wish. Ask what you will of me and consider it done.”
Eyes of the deepest emerald framed by full dark lashes opened to his words, her lips opened and her voice moved over him in the gentlest of caresses. “I awaken and find your words pleasing, Mortal One. What is required of me? Why have you awakened me?”
Caleb blinked in surprise for he had no answer, “I do not know, madam, except that I have come at the request of the scroll recovered from the tomb of the High Priest Odar. No instructions were given but from that scroll.”
Her eyes narrowed and her next questions shocked him, “How long have I slept, mortal, that none send for me? Has it been so long since the reign of Pharaoh Huni?”
“If that is the case, Fair One of Ancient Egypt, then you have indeed slept long. Many kings have come and gone. Twenty-eight and more dynasties have perished. Many centuries have passed since Pharaoh Huni ruled Mighty Egypt, so many that none truly know their number. You wake to an age when the Gods and Goddesses of your time are no longer worshiped and Egypt is no longer the Power of the world. You ask for a history that is only barely understood. I am a man who explores the histories if this Ancient Kingdom to discover the mysteries and majesty that hold wonder for the world. My deepest regret is that you have not been awakened before now and that you come into a world that no longer even speaks this language, nor even knows of its existence save for a choice few of whom only one speaks it. And that is me.”
“And who are you, Mortal?” she inquired softly.
“I am Caleb William Wallace, Fair Mistress. And for all my learning and knowledge acquired, I must admit ignorance as to whom you are.”
“Well, Caleb William Wallace, I am the Goddess Bast, the mortal Sebastet, daughter to Odar, twin sister to Horus. I am mother to Narmer, first true Pharaoh of Egypt. I am friend to Ra, King of the Gods.
“And if what you say is true, there is only one to whom I must put the rest of my questions.”
She rose with the grace of the feline she resembled and crossed the room to an ornately carved chest on the far wall. She removed something from it and placed the object on the seat of a massive blue marble throne Caleb had failed to notice. She said a word he could not hear clearly, and then spoke the name of Ra.
A moment passed, then the sound of a soft sigh moved through the room. A faintly glowing bluish-colored mist surrounded the throne, and as it faded the figure of a powerfully strong man began to take shape. The mist faded completely, leaving the man sitting on the throne as if he belonged there.
His skin was ebony and glowed with a blue sheen. He wore a warrior’s armor that consisted of tough leather combined with metal of a type unknown to mortal minds and covered his body in a way that added to his appearance of strength and majesty rather than taking away from it as conventional armor normally did. He wore it as easily as any modern man wore his skin, as if he didn’t realize it existed. The white chinton, a kilt-like skirt commonly worn by the men of Ancient Egypt, flowed from the base of his breastplate showing off his powerfully muscular legs which were adorned with black leather shin guards covered in the same otherworldly metal of his breastplate. Finally the eyes drifted down to his leather sandals secured by leather bands.
Laid across the armrests of the throne was a large battle-ax, its razor sharp edge tinted with what, at first glance, appeared to be rust, Caleb realized with cold fear that it could only be the dried blood of countless enemies. Even more striking were the mans eyes, they were the color of arctic glaciers - a clear pale blue that made one feel as if he could pierce a mans soul as well as the battle-ax could pierce flesh.
With him appeared another man, as light as the other was dark. This had to be Seth, Lord of Lightening, who rode in Ra’s chariot through the Underworld as they guided the sun on its nightly path. His skin pale, almost translucent. He only wore the chinton and sandals laced up his claves, holding a spear in his right hand, the butt on the ground next to him. His gaze was full of hatred as he gazed on Bast, though he remained silent as the dark man spoke to her.
Ra’s eyes warmed considerably as they gazed upon Bast. “Oh my Kitten, how I wish I could hold you,“ he said, in a deep baritone voice. He was fully visible, but he was as ethereal as a ghost; his form not quite solid. As was the man next to him.
Caleb felt a surprising twinge that could only be described as jealousy at the pure emotion in that simple statement. This turned into fear the instant those blue eyes fell upon him.
“And who is this mortal that disturbs your slumber, Little Kitten? I find myself surprised that he had the courage to awaken you.” His voice was cold as he spoke these words; words that chilled Caleb’s heart.
“I did not call you here to discuss the mortal, Great One,” she said with a dismissive wave her hand, “I would ask you instead if what he reveals is to me is true. Are the Pharaohs gone? Has my immortal life no more meaning? Is my duty to Kemet at an end?
“If this is so, Ra, what am I to do now?” she asked him, almost demanding in her query.
Ra bowed his head and sighed softly. When he raised his ice blue gaze to her, he looked sad, “Yes, Kitten, it is true. As you can see, the worship of the Great Gods is fading; and with it we fade as well. You do not as you were once mortal, as was your brother Horus.
“As to what you do now, I have no answer for you. I no longer know if I have a purpose. And I cannot tell you whom to ask. Though your father, Odar, may have some advice for you. He always did have good advice. But to ask him you must see if Osiris is in a pleasant mood today,” he socked his head and gave her a half grin that seemed almost apologetic.
She smiled at him then, as if they shared a joke, “Then I will do so, Great Ra, and hope that he is agreeable.”
She moved over to the chest once again and removed a small dagger, then walked over to stand in front of the doorway. She took the dagger in her right hand and closed her left hand around the blade as she spoke,
“With my heart I call you,
Soul to soul,
The one who rules the Underworld,
And sits in final judgment-“
In a quick notion, she sliced her palm open and let her blood flow onto the ground,
“With my blood I seal my request and open the door,
Judge my heart, Great Osiris,
And answer my call.”
With that, she stood back and waited, wrapping a scrap of linen around her palm and putting the dagger away.
Within moments she had her answer in the form of a man of regular height, strong features, and a regal carriage. He wore a white chinton and carried the crook and flail, the badges of the rulers of Egypt, and on his head was the Double Crown of Upper and Lower Egypt. His eyes, though, made a chill run up Caleb’s spine, for they were entirely black.
Sebastet bowed her head to him and voiced her request, “I wish to speak to my father, Odar, Great One,” she said simply.
His jaw tightened for a moment, then he opened his mouth to speak. But one look at her face apparently changed his mind; he lowered his head and shook it slowly as he sighed. Then he looked back up to her and spoke, his voice deep and heavy as if carrying death itself, “Very well, Daughter of the Gods, I will do as you request. But his ka will determine how long he may stay. It won’t be long so ask your questions quickly,” he closed his eyes after her nod. In a moment her request was granted, for through the doorway came Anubis guiding a handsome man who’s eyes showed his true age and depth of knowledge gained in life, followed by another young man who resembled the depictions of Horus in human form.
Bast walked forward and embraced the handsome man, He held her for a long moment, then held her out at arms length, “My Little Kitten, it is good to see you after all of these centuries. And I take it that my being called here means that my scroll has been found. Ask me your questions, my daughter, and I will answer what I can.”
“Am I truly? Your daughter, I mean?” she begged to know.
“Yes, you were born just moments after Horus, “ he indicated the young man standing next to him, “I raised you the best I could, taught you all that I knew, and was never more proud than the day you were chosen by the Gods.”
“What now, father? What am I to do? I am in the dark as to my purpose. Help me if you can.” She begged him.
“Dearest One, you are now as the Phoenix rising from its ashes. You have a new life and destiny to discover. Embrace it and find out where it will lead you. Know that you are always in my heart, Sebastet.” With that he faded, his soul going back to paradise.
Horus stepped forward and embraced her now, “Well little one, it is time for you to move forward. Just remember all that I’ve taught you. If you haven’t forgotten already…” He said impishly.
She laughed, “How could I forget your special fighting skills, Horus? No one else had the courage to teach me to fight dirty or to insult someone in 63 languages. Thank you, brother, for that and everything else.”
Seth had his own interesting farewell for her, “We are not finished yet, Bast. My wrath has not been cooled by the passing of the centuries. So watch your back, little kitty, or it will grace my floor!”
She replied with a grin and a sparkle in her emerald eyes, “Any time, any place, Thunder of Ra. My blade will be waiting.”
He disappeared in a flash of light.
Ra gave a one-shouldered shrug and a wry half-grin to Bast, “I will do what I can to keep him busy for a while, Kitten. But you two will have to settle up sooner or later. For myself, I hope that you give him such a resounding defeat that I never have to think on him again,” with that, he too disappeared, in a flash of flame.
Horus stepped forward, “I must leave you now as well, sister, I have things that must be taken care of. I will visit you as soon as I can,” he embraced her once more, then stepped out the doorway and was gone.
“That only leaves you, Caleb William Wallace. You can continue on your own journeys, or you can help me find my place in this new world I find myself thrust into. It is as a riddle for me. And I must admit that even though I can come up with wonderful riddles, I am terrible at solving them. The choice is yours.”
Caleb had to laugh, he just couldn’t resist it, “Bast, Egypt has been my riddle for many years and I have loved the solving of each one she presents to me. I said when you awoke that I would be your slave, servant, and Champion and I do not make such vows lightly. It would be my honor to help you solve this riddle,” he said with a bow.
“Very well, but I do not need a slave, servant, or Champion. Though I would gratefully accept your friendship,” she returned with a regal nod of her head.
He grinned, “Then perhaps we can continue your journey? My ship is still on the Nile and ready to sail. I place it at your disposal, my lady.”
She agreed and the better part of the day was spent in moving her and a few of her belongings to the boat. Well, not exactly a boat. Caleb had refitted the family Pirate ship, the Victory. It was commonly called a Baltimore Clipper, with its raked masts and square topsails. The privateersmen loved them during the War of 1812 because of the speed and durability that the ships had. The Victory had certainly proven its worth to Caleb. He had refitted the sails to work electronically from a panel at the helm. He even had a copy of the family Jolly Roger to fly when he was feeling particularly rebellious. It wasn’t much, but it was his home away from Scotland.
The only portions of her belongings that raised his eyebrows were her armor and weapons. The armor appeared to be Greek leather working overlaid with the same metal that Ra’s consisted of, and was engraved with cats in various posses of pouncing. The weapons consisted of a staff, a long and short bow with a single quiver of arrows, and a sword he had no little trouble lifting but she had no trouble with at all. He decided that questions about those could wait until he resumed sword practice with his Uncle Hamish.
Caleb stood up straight in the corridor and swore roundly in Gaelic. How was he going to explain all this to Hamish?! He shook his head and continued his last trip out of the tomb to the Victory. That question would have to wait until he got closer to home. But he had to admit that for once he could render Hamish Wallace speechless, that thought had him whistling an old Scottish ditty as he started the ship up the Nile to the Mediterranean Sea. He didn’t have to worry about the Cataracts; he was too far above them. Her resting place had been between Saka and El-Lahun to the right of the Nile. No towns or villages were privy to the location or the sight of his disembarkation. His course up the Nile from her tomb covered just over 900 miles. Passing Dakshur, Memphis, Giza, Heliopolis, Bubastis, and Aswan before gaining the Mediterranean.
He did stop in Aswan to cable Hamish, telling him that he was headed home. And to have an extra room prepared for a guest.
Scotland:
“By Wallace’s Bloody Kilt! The boy’s done it again!” Hamish Wallace’s heavy brogue threatened to lift the castle rafters the morning he received the second of his nephew’s cables.
“What is it this time, Hamish?” Margaret asked him calmly as she poured the coffee.
“He’s finally comin’ home. But he wants the room next to his prepared for a guest. Probably some University pencil pusher he met out there.”
Margaret smiled, “How wonderful. I’ll get everything ready today,” she still spoke calmly, though Hamish had resorted to muttering angrily under his breath. But it was his usual litany over his nephews chosen profession so she simply ignored it.
Meanwhile:
Once in the Mediterranean, Caleb and his guests passed Greece, Italy, France, and Spain. It was a learning trip for Bast and Caleb found wonder in the sights he’d taken for granted before by seeing them through her eyes and hearing her tales of the way they used to be.
As they neared Scotland and his family port, Caleb found that he now had to worry about what he was going to tell his uncle. He considered trying to come up with a feasible lie, but knew Hamish would see right through it because Caleb was a terrible liar. However, if he told the truth, Hamish would probably give him a one-way ticket to Bedlam. When he tried to explain the problem to his guests, all three laughed and said that there would be no problem and that he was to follow their lead.
He still worried.
Getting them into the country was no problem. The family port came right up behind the Wallace Castle, which the family still resided in.
As he completed docking, a familiar figure strode down the wooden docking towards the ship. A large man, but Hamish Wallace could still move like a man half his age. His silver shoulder length hair only added silver to his blue eyes, making him look surprisingly younger than his 56 years – a lot younger. He and Caleb had frequently been called brothers, with their looks so close. In fact, the only differences between the two consisted of their hair and the amount of muscle. Caleb had let his black hair grow to the middle of his back and kept it tied back or braided, his uncle still kept to tradition. Hamish had maxed out on muscle mass while Caleb had the appearance of an athlete; for all that Hamish had never defeated him in arm wrestling, running, or even most of the Traditional Scottish Games. The evenly matched each other in height, being six feet six inches had its advantages in any fight.
Caleb leaped to the dock and embraced his uncle, “It’s good tae see ya, ya ald reprobate. How many hearts hae ye broken since I been gone, Hamish?” Being back in Scotland always brought out his brogue.
Hamish smiled at his nephew, “Let’s see tae your cargo an I’ll tell ye o’er a pint, Laddie.” He clapped him on the shoulder and moved to the gangplank to board.
“Well, ya see… I kinda hae guests, Uncle. An ye might no’ believe me when ye hear the tale.”
“We’ll see aboot tha’, Nephew. Bring ‘em on up while I set Margaret tae food fur dinner. I’ll send William down tae help wi’ the luggage if ye like.”
“Na, Hamish. Tis best ye see wha’ I brought before ye make plans just yet.” With that he walked towards the rear of the ship.
She was standing on the upper deck with the cats on either side, and she was cloaked. The only things one could see were the right hand holding her staff and the left holding the long bow. Since he knew that her sword strapped across her back and quiver attached to her waist, he could explain their absence. And since her hands were covered in the leather gloves that came with her armor, he could guess that she was wearing that as well.
Hamish barely glanced at the figure, but froze at the sight of the cats. After a month in their company, Caleb had gotten used to their appearance. He had even wrestled with Nakurr when the cat had asked, so he could vouch for the power under the fur.
“Uncle Hamish, may I present Sebastet, the Tiger Princess, and her guardians, Nakurr and Sharra.” The cats each nodded to the Scot as they were introduced, but remained at her side otherwise. Caleb had come up with the title a week into their voyage and had agreed to go with her birth name as long as they came up something more suitable later. “The tigers stay wi’ her, Uncle, at all times. I thought I’d save further introductions for later. If ye dinnae mind.”
Hamish gave her a respectful bow and his most charming smile, “Of course, laddie. I’ll e’en help wi’ her baggage meself.” Caleb knew his uncle well enough that he would be impressed with the title enough that he wouldn’t ask questions right off and breathed a sigh of relief.
They proceeded to remove the few items from the hold that were needed, deciding that the rest could wait. Thankfully Hamish’s eyebrows were the only things that gave his curiosity away over the obviously Egyptian baggage. Once they had her in the room next to Caleb’s at the castle, Hamish hurried down to tell Mary Margaret to get dinner on the table and to warn her about the tigers. Caleb warned the cats about the possibility of receiving their steaks raw on the way down to the dinning room. They didn’t seem too happy about it.
Dinner was a speedy affair, for which Caleb was thankful. They then retired to the library for the introductions Caleb had promised. Before he gave the go ahead to Bast he took the precautions to lock the door, fill four glasses with Scotch whisky, and got out the smelling salts for Margaret. Then he sighed and nodded to Bast, “Now is a good a time as any, Mistress. Go ahead.”
She took off her cloak with a flourish that would have made any master magician red with envy, letting it fall gently over the chair next to her. Thankfully Margaret was sitting down, for she promptly fainted. Hamish downed two of the whiskeys before he could breath, and forced one down Margaret after Caleb had brought her around with the smelling salts.
Caleb had to admit that she was impressive, standing there in her armor as if she had been born into it. The sword at her back was especially impressive; its midnight pommel gleaming in the firelight over her left shoulder did not escape Hamish’s notice as he looked her over.
“Well lassie, tis my guess tha’ ye can use tha’ blade as well as I use me own broadsword,” he commented.
As she grinned, one could see her canines gleam, “Any time, any place,” was her only response. Which was surprising only in the fact that she’d said it in perfect Gaelic, and Caleb couldn’t figure out how she’d learned it. All he’d spoken in Gaelic had consisted of a few swear words when Nakurr had gotten a little rough and the one time he’d had to move a crate. (It had landed on his foot rather than the deck.) He opened his mouth to ask her how she’d learned to speak the language, closed it then nothing came out, opened it again, but closed it that time because Nakurr was glaring at him,
“She is a Goddess, Mortal.” The voice that sounded in his head was definitely Nakurr’s. He hadn’t considered telepathy, and wondered about her other abilities when Nakurr spoke aloud for the first time in the castle, “We are grateful for the hospitality you offer, Hamish Wallace. Your Caleb has told us much about your and your home-“ He didn’t get to finish what else he might have said, for Margaret had fainted again.
“Bothersome feline! You did that on purpose!” Bastet accused, “You could have waited until tomorrow for that. I swear you have a mean streak as long as the Nile itself. I could have explained your eating habits without frightening the woman to death.” She looked to Caleb, “Is she all right, Caleb” Perhaps it would be better for her to go to bed for now. Anything else can be explained to her later, I think.”
“Perhaps you’re right, Fair One. I’ll just run her up and be back down in a moment. Nakurr, please behave yourself. At least til I return. I’ll even try tae convince Hamish tae wrestle wi’ ye on the morrow if ye will.” He picked the elderly woman up as if she weighed little more than a feather, “Hamish, I do believe tha’ she’s lost a bit o’ weight since I left. Ye’ve been worryin’ her tae much again.” On that note, he was out the door and up the stairs, leaving Hamish alone with their guests.
“Well now lassie, how aboot some truth ‘atween us while the boy’s gone. I’m as much for a practical joke as the next mon, but e’en this one canna be carried much further,” he said with a laugh.
She looked at Hamish for a moment then at Nakurr, “Alright, Nakurr, go ahead. You have been waiting all evening. But no permanent damage, I want him fit for sword practice tomorrow.”
“No guarantees, Mistress…” the cat growled. And before he could ponder their remarks, Hamish found himself starring into the beasts blue eyes with Nakurr’s front paws on his shoulders, effectively pinning him to the couch. He began to feel a trickle of fear as the cat growled again and spoke, “It is not wise, mortal, to question one that can kill you with a mere thought. Nor is it wise to question the Goddess in my presence. If it weren’t for the fact that she entertains thoughts of carving you up herself in the practice circle I would kill you now, and enjoy every minute of it,” at the word ‘kill’ Nakurr’s claws slowly came out and bit into the mans skin with each successive word, “Now, I would appreciate an apology given to my mistress, or even she will not stop me from tearing you to shreds. And you will speak to her with respect from this moment forward. Do we have an understanding, Mortal?”
It was all Hamish could do not to pass out from the pain but he nodded. The cat released him so quickly that for a moment he couldn’t see. He gasped with the pain but managed to speak, “My apologies, madam, for any insult ye might have received from me thoughtless words. Now, if ye’ll pardon me, I believe tha’ I’m probably goin’ tae pass out now.”
“Na, Uncle, ye wilna’ pass oot,” said Caleb when he walked in, “An I’ll be thankin’ ye, Nakurr fur bein’ gentle wi’ him.” One could hear Hamish squeak from the couch “Gentle?!” Caleb ignored it, “I’d apologize for his behavior, but since he’s already done so, I wilna.” He turned to Hamish to dress the claw marks in his shoulders, “Since he’s nae use tae ye for swords on the morrow, mayhap I’ll do fur ye. I need the practice anyway. An’ before ye ask why I dinna say somethin’ before, it was because I actually thought tha’ ma uncle would behave himself wi’ two grown tigers in the room.”
Bast decided to concede the point and accepted him as her partner in the morning. Sharra started to step forward but Bast stopped her with a gentle hand, “No Sharra, let the man taste the pain. One should have the occasional scar as a reminder of one’s stupidity. As you once reminded me, I should point out. Seth is still angry with me over his little scar. You’d think that after five thousand years he would have gotten used to being a eunuch,” she finished wryly.
“Well tha’ explains his behavior,” Caleb commented, “I had wondered aboot tha’. Now why don’t we all get some sleep?” he suggested.
“A sensible idea, Caleb. I’ll send Sharra to wake you for practice. Pleasant dreams,” with that they left the room, leaving Caleb with a rather pale Hamish.
He gave Hamish the last whiskey and poured one for himself. Smiling at the elder, he said, “Rather bloodthirsty isn’t she, Uncle. An’ she’s beautiful as well. A perfect combination tae be sure.”
“Are ye sure tha’ bein’ in love wi’ her is good fur your health laddie?”
Caleb laughed, “Well ye see, Uncle, I ne’er made the mistake o’ getting her or the cats mad at me. I’ve e’en wrestled wi’ Nakurr so I know better. Tha’ cat is as smart as he is strong. An’ Sharra is as sweet an’ compassionate as can be. She coulda’ healed those little love taps Nakurr saw fit tae gi’ ye.” He paused for a moment, debating whether or not he should go into that any further, deciding to proceed along a different path of warning, “An’ Uncle, I’ll warn ye now, dinna underestimate tha’ princess. ‘Twould be rather bad for your health. An’ I want to keep you around for a while longer.”
Hamish frowned at him, “What do ye mean by ‘bad for me health’ lad?”
Caleb chuckled at irony, “Hamish, understand tha’ I hae ne’er lied tae ye. What I’m aboot tae tell ye defies imagination an’ would see me in Bedlam real quick if it e’er left this room.” He proceeded to tell his uncle what had transpired to place the lady in his company. Rather unfortunately, he scoffed at the idea of her in actual battle as well as her being over five thousand years old and an immortal goddess. Caleb did, however, exact a promise from his uncle not to push those issues within her presence, “An’ wi’ tha’, Uncle, I’ll bid ye good night. For I find meself wi’ a dawn appointment wi’ a woman I canna help but love.” He paused at the door and chuckled, “Nor can I hope tae win for I’m woefully oot o’ practice,” he grinned at his uncle’s shocked face, “An’ I canna wait tae loose.” With that he was off to bed whistling another Scottish ditty while his uncle laughed at his nephew’s obvious delight at defeat.
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