Before Egypt: A Novel of Ancient Egypt

[Red Gypsy]

This is the book I'm writing. I'll be posting each chapter as I finish it, so feel free to critique it as necessary.

Thanks,
Gypsy  

[Red Gypsy]

Before
Egypt

A NOVEL OF ANCIENT EGYPT


By: HTK

I know that you won’t believe my story; you aren’t meant to believe it. But I am all that I claim. I am over five thousand years old. I was born, lived, and died long before Christ set foot on the earth. I was here before the Romans built Rome, before Alexander the Great tried to conquer the world, before Kemet was unified and ruled by so many petty tyrants and true believers. I believe in the Gods, both the old and the new, after the way my life went I couldn’t help but believe. Indeed I must believe. It is because of the Old Gods that I am speaking to you now. For as I told you; I was born, lived, and died so long ago. The Gods decided to give me another life, and so I joined their ranks, becoming a Goddess myself.
But I’m rambling now.
I need to tell you all of it. I know that I should start from the beginning, tell you about Kemet as I remember it, as I loved it. I’ll start somewhere a little closer to the end, and then I’ll take you back.
I only ask for your patience as my story unfolds. It will be unbelievable to some that don’t believe in the Gods of Old, so prepare yourself to read the unbelievable….

Bast  

[Red Gypsy]

Prologue

The bazaar came alive as it had every morning for eons. The faces of the merchants had changed little; their wares still antiquities of the ages past.
Caleb inhaled the indigenous smells of spices, weavers’ dyes, and Ancient City. This was his last trip through the city and his first to the bazaar. He smiled to himself at his guides’ reaction as he spoke fluently with the merchants but his puzzled look at the brougish accent. Caleb looked at the packages his guide carried. They were gifts of native cloth and jewelry for his aunt and sister, and ornamented knives for his brothers, but Uncle Hamish was the problem.
Unaware he spoke to himself in Gaelic, &But what do you take to a Scotsman from Egypt? &
Mohan looked at Caleb and asked in Egyptian what he meant.
With a brilliant smile Caleb again lapsed into accented Egyptian and replied to the puzzled man, “Sorry, my friend, just wondering where to find the proper gift for my uncle.”
With a c**k of his head Mohan asked, “Is he really so hard, sahib?”
Caleb laughed,” In assurety harder than the Giza Pyramid! He’s our clans chief and the only father I’ve ever known.”
Mohan’s dark eyes lit up instantly,” A warrior then!?”
Caleb smiled in assurance,” To his kilt threads, my friend. To his kilt threads!”
“I know just the shop, sahib. There you will find the perfect gift!” Mohan assured him
“Then let’s be off,” Caleb stated and followed the small dark man through the bodies that crowded the plaza.
As they wove through the ancient streets, Caleb wondered at his friends determined pace. Just as he was about to question the small man they entered a row of shops that Caleb was unaware had existed. “Here sahib is the place that you will find what you seek.” Mohan stated as he pointed to a shop in the center of the strip and flashed Caleb a brilliant smile.
When they entered the shop Caleb’s eyes adjusted slowly. Here were wares he had never dreamed to be offered. Such things he had only seen in museums or private collections. Many he was sure had been looted from the very tombs he had come to Egypt to study.
As his trained eye scanned and catalogued the items he knew he would buy, his eyes fell upon something he knew would change the very course of his life. There on a shelf in the back of the room stood a small scroll jar. The writings upon it were of the language he knew only he could translate, for he had trained and taught himself to read it from a learning scroll he had found on his second dig and had kept in secret.
Caleb did not want to too much interest in the vessel. As his mind quickly deciphered what he could see of the hieroglyphics upon it. He was sure it came from the tomb of the Priest Odar but was confounded by the words:

“Sebastet, My Daughter,
The Goddess Bast.”

As if this were not shock enough for the Scotsman’s usually fortified countenance, the shopkeeper who now entered the room rendered him speechless and slack jawed. Here was a man tall by Egyptian standards, lean with a priestly carriage; his clothing of the finest linen Caleb was certain could have been found in any Pharaohs palace. The necklace the man wore stated him to be a descendant of Odar himself.
All Caleb could do was utter his clan’s common oath, “By Wallace’s Bloody Kilt!”
“Good day kind sir, what may I do for you?” he spoke the Kings English as well as any Oxford graduate. “My name is Kemet, and I am at your service this day.” He said in a musical tenor voice as he expended his hand.
“Doctor Caleb Wallace, “ he introduced himself as he extended his own hand, “You have quite a selection, sir. The envy of Cairo Museum to be sure.”
Kemet shrugged, “We have a few baubles to sell, yes. But only to those who will truly appreciate them.”
“And what is your assessment of myself?” Caleb asked cautiously.
Kemet placed a hand over his heart and gave a half bow, “Your reputation precedes you, Dr. Wallace. That is why Mohan knew to bring you here.”
“And so you will sell to me?” Caleb asked with narrowed eyes.
“Anything my humble shop has to offer, “ Kemet said with spread hands as if in offer to inspect the wares available.
Caleb took him at his word. He chose his purchases with care. For his uncle, a sword that dated from Ramases the Great. He also chose a few pottery pieces. He also selected ancient scarabs, ceremonial masks, ankhs, rattles, as well as a few scrolls to further his researches. They haggled good-naturedly over the price; still coming well under Caleb’s budget and at a fraction of the collected items estimated value.
As he paid the agreed price, Caleb took a deep breath and steadied his nerves for his next possible purchase. “And what for the scroll jar behind you?” he asked casually.
Kemet smiled, “I am sorry, Doctor. But I cannot sell you that item.”
“May I ask why?”
Kemet took a deep breath and asked him if he would join him for tea. Caleb consented but could not help but mutter under his breath, “Bloody English tea….”
Kemet laughed, “Not English tea, Doctor, but good Egyptian tea.” He disappeared into the back room for a moment, and then returned to lead Caleb to a small alcove that the Egyptologist hadn’t noticed. It was decorated only with hieroglyphics. The walls were covered in them from floor to ceiling, and Caleb couldn’t resist translating. Yet another shock for the already shell shocked Scotsman, for it gave the lineage of Odar. But Odar never had any children. Caleb knew this because he had discovered Odar’s tomb, all Odar had stated was that his first, and only, wife had died in childbirth. No children were ever listed or pictured.
Kemet’s wife, Deshret, served tea. They talked of simple things, safe things. The weather, political climate, crops, and the Nile itself. Yet Caleb’s mind was boiling with questions he had no answers to.
As they finished their tea, Caleb found himself relieved that the formalities were over. Deshret removed the tea tray and retreated to the back of the shop once more, leaving the men alone once more.
“Your wife is a beautiful woman, Kemet. And she has a very sweet way about her.” Caleb offered, then added, “If you do not mind my saying so.”
Kemet laughed and said, “Thank you Doctor. We were promised as children and fell in love long before our wedding day. I consider myself lucky to have her.”
“You are a lucky man. Many others can only dream of finding such a wife.” Caleb stated, genuinely meaning what he’d said.
There was silence for a moment. Then the two men stood; Caleb retrieved his purchases while Kemet moved behind the counter. Caleb wanted to flood the man with his questions, but held them back as he moved to the door.
“I thank you for the purchases and the tea, Kemet.” As he put his hat on he touched the brim briefly before reaching for the door handle, “Good day to you and your family.”
“Doctor…” Kemet stopped him before he could open the door. “I believe that you are forgetting something that belongs to you…” The tall Egyptian walked up to him and handed him a carefully wrapped package. Then with a smile and a bow, he retreated to the back of the shop before Caleb could say anything more.
With a bewildered look and a shake of his head, Caleb left the shop and headed for his hotel.

Once in his hotel room, Caleb began to pack for his journey home. When he had his personal effects packed, he moved to load his purchases into a special suitcase. It was well padded and would protect what he considered the more valuable objects during transport from any possible damage. Caleb loaded all but the last package Kemet had given him. He was curious about the item, and sat at the small table in his room to open it. After all of the wrappings were removed, Caleb sat back in his chair muttering the family oath once again.
It was the scroll jar.
He reached out a hand to touch it, feeling the need to make sure that it was real. When his fingers brushed the delicately carved clay, the seal crumbled. Caleb couldn’t resist lifting the lid, where he removed a scroll that was still in pristine condition. He unrolled it and began to translate the carefully written hieratic script. Caleb did the translation three times. Then he sat back in his chair again, saying the only thing he could think of at that moment:
“Bloody Hell!”
After only a moment of thought, he rerolled the scroll and placed it back in it’s container. Then he packed it in his knapsack, grabbed his luggage, and headed for the docks where his ship was moored. Caleb made only one stop on his way, the telegraph office. He winced slightly at the cable he was sending to his uncle telling him that he would be delayed. The old Scot was not going to like it.
Then Caleb boarded his ship and set out.

In Scotland:

“By Wallace’s Bloody Kilt Threads!”
That was the only phrase Hamish Wallace could think of to say after reading the telegram from his nephew.
The housekeeper, Mary Margaret, ran to the study. She didn’t like the tone of the phrase that nearly shook the castle. As she opened the door she asked, “An’ what is it Hamish?!”
Hamish was standing behind the desk, his face an odd mixture of red and purple as he replied. “Tha’ boys gone a diggin’ again! ‘Tisn’t natural fur a grown mon tae dig in the dirt, Maggie!” It was his usual complaint about his nephews’ occupation. Mary Margaret simply closed the door and walked away shaking her head with a small smile on her face.

 

[Red Gypsy]

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.

 

[Red Gypsy]

Chapter 2

Caleb smiled as he dropped to his knees, shaking his stinging hand, “I yield lady, my defeat is complete.” He fell onto his back and laughed tiredly, “Ya’ know, I commented to Uncle Hamish last night tha’ I couldna wait for my defeat tae ya for I’m woefully oot o’ practice wi’ me sword. I was right, I’m absolutely delighted!”

“Why?” she asked, not a bit out of breath after six hours of active practice, he noted a little jealously.

“It isna every day tha’ a mon gets defeated by the most beautiful woman in the world, Bast.” He got a thoughtful look on his face as he considered her standing over him, “Ya know, I think ye would gi’ Hamish a trouncing he would ne’er forget,” he said with sadistic glee.

She smiled and shook her head, “I have never seen a rivalry to equal you and your uncle, Caleb. I don’t believe that I will ever understand why the two of you try to compete against each other the way you do.”

“We’re Highlanders, lassie, it’s in the blood,” came a baritone brogue from behind her. Hamish walked up and gave a hand to Caleb, “Lad I need ye tae go wi’ Margaret tae the station tae get yer sibs. They’ll be there at five an’ are lookin’ forward tae seein’ ye.”

Caleb narrowed his eyes at Hamish, “Only if ye’ll promise tae behave yerself uncle, an’ I mean it this time.”

Hamish opened his mouth with an offended look on his face, then closed it and looked to the ground for a moment. He sighed heavily as he looked back at his nephew, a slightly sheepish look on his face, “Ye hae me word, laddie. Tho’ it pains me tae think ye dinnae trust me wi’out it.”

“I do trust ye uncle, tae do as ye please,” Caleb laughed, slapping the elder on the shoulder. “An’ I luv ye too much tae come home tae find ye in shreds. Margaret would wind up in Bedlam fur sure, much less take tae hysterics. An’ besides, we’re almost oot o’ smellin’ salts.” He put his sword in its scabbard, shouldered it, and picked up a towel from a bench outside the practice circle in the tiltyard. As he wiped the sweat from his face he spoke again, “By the way, Hamish, Nakurr has a request fur ye. He wanted me tae ask ye, but I told him it might be better comin’ direct.” He headed into the castle with a wave, leaving Hamish alone with Bast and Nakurr (who had been enjoying a nap in the sunlight).

Hamish turned to the cat now, “Well cat, wha’ is this request me nephew mentioned?” he asked.

Nakurr rose and stretched languidly, as only a feline can, yawning largely. Then padded over to sit in front of the man, “Two actually. First I would like to do a little hunting. Before I did, my mistress suggested it was only polite to ask.”

“No problem there, just no’ too much o’ the deer, they’re numbers are only just recovering from a rash o’ poachers last winter. But we are having a slight problem wi’ a few boars in the area, “Hamish told him gladly, not wanting to bother with the boars himself until the twins arrived to help, “An’ the second?”

Nakurr looked at the ground and shifted one forepaw in the dirt restlessly, “Well… Sharra would like to bring a few more guests and we were uncertain as to how to approach the asking….”

“Well spit it oot Nakurr. I canna answer until ye ask. Now can I?” Hamish said exasperatedly.

Taking a deep breath the cat asked in a rush, “Can we bring out cubs?”

Hamish laughed, “ Is tha’ all? I’m no’ such an ogre tae deny a parent their family! If ye’d think tha’, ye’ve no idea how a Highlander feels aboot family! An’ I’m a little insulted tha’ you’d think tha’ aboot me. Bring ‘em on, Cat, an’ wi’ all haste. Ye hear!” with that, Hamish stormed off into the castle, slamming the door behind him and startling Bast and Nakurr looked ashamed, “I had no idea he’s take offense like that. I was only asking because it would mean five extra mouths to feed and house,” he looked to Bast, “Should I go apologize?”

Bast rubbed his head comfortingly, “Give him tine to calm down. Then go to him and explain that you meant no offense or insult. But first go and tell Sharra to bring the cubs. She will need to know. And he cannot complain if they’re already here…”

Nakurr nodded his massive head and went into the castle, leaving her in the tiltyard. That was fine, she wanted to think a bit anyway. Last nights dream still had her a little shaken today.

Dream. No it hadn’t been a dream. A memory. Ever since Ra had released her from her service to Egypt, she had been thinking about why she had accepted in the first place. As a result, her memories of becoming immortal were surfacing in her sleep.

And seeing her father and Horus again, the emotions were still jumbled. Odar’s face with no worries at all; the happiness that had shown there had made him glow. It made her miss him all the more. But Horus, still as mischievous as ever, made her smile. She knew that he would visit her soon, to see how she was doing in the mortal realm. Hamish would like him, she thought with a smile.

Oh how she missed them, she thought as she wandered from the tiltyard to the Ladies Garden. Once there she found a grassy spot in the sun and sat down to meditate, hoping to clear her mind. However, upon reaching the trancelike state, the dream pulled her in again – this time completing the memory.

Grey mixes with white in turbulent upheavals of wisps of smoke colored clouds. Giving the day a depressing closed in feeling that seemed inescapable to all. Suddenly the cloud-ridden sky lit on fire. Glowing red, orange, yellow and every color in between; missing in an evil parody of the glow that kept men warm on their travels and gave light to the darkest room.

A stretch of the flame lit cloud reached down to the red earth between the two forces gathered for battle. And down that bright stretch came two figures, one appearing lit up by the very flames that guided them to the ground, and the other as bright as the sun. One rode a horse the color of flame and wore armor that was blackened but for the pouncing felines that were carved into the breastplate in a flame colored hue. The other rode a pale steed and wore armor toned in earthen hues, the great falcons carved into the breastplate. One wore a helmet in the shape of the desert feline that all Egyptians feared and respected, the other wore the falcon’s head, the ruler of the skies. As they touched the earth, they turned their horses towards one side of the battling forces and approached Odar, the apparent leader.

The figures looked at each other for a moment, then the falcon headed figure nodded and stepped forward to speak, “I am Horus, sent by Ra himself to aid you in battle. This is Bast, His right eye, sent to seek His vengeance. In sending us, Ra has declared Pharaoh false. He will choose his new servant at the end of this battle, so fight bravely and courageously.”

Odar was surprised, but covered it quickly, bowing to the two figures in respect and awe, “I am honored that Ra has answered the prayers of His humble servants and ask that you advise me in this, for I find myself out of my element in warfare,” he said honestly.

Horus grinned behind his helmet, “That is why I am here, Odar, High Priest of the Temple of Ra.”

Quickly the fighters were organized, and no one questioned why Bast was set out in front of them, her bright steed showing its impatience. Two animals that no one had ever seen before, great cats that were white with black stripes and were twice the size of any lion ever seen joined her. Then there was no more time to wonder, no more time to question, for the charge had been called, and the battle was begun.
Bast took out many fighters, her staff flashing in the light of the flame-ridden sky, the cats that accompanied her accounted for even more deaths among the enemy. But Horus was the one that engaged the leader, the one that ruled the false pharaoh. Bast gave a scream of rage when Horus was struck down, somehow appearing over him to take up his sword and engage the enemy leader herself. All were shocked when she struck a bad blow between his legs with the sword that dropped him to his knees, cursing her. All winced as one of the creatures with Bast devoured the object that she’d struck from the fallen gods person, making him forever a eunuch.

All fighting on the battlefield stopped when the sky flared up with fresh flame, falling to the ground as the great chariot of Ra came pounding to the earth, “Seth. You have disappointed me. And now you will pay for your treason. From this moment forth you will travel with me as I guide the sun on its daily course, defending me and my purpose for all eternity, never to be out of my sight again,” the great god decreed, taking the maimed and fallen god into his chariot and departing.


She turned then to Horus, helping him up as his wounds healed on their own, and berating him soundly for getting them in the first place. Then they both turned to Odar, kneeling in front of him and removing their helmets. Odar gasped in shock, for Horus was his son, thought to be dead these two years past. The other he did not recognize until she raised her emerald eyes to meet his own brown gaze. Sebastet, his daughter, born the twin to Horus, though he didn’t recognize her for now, for she was greatly changed.

She stood and spoke up, “My body had been damaged by the false pharaoh too badly for it to be changed, so Ra commissioned Khnum to create me a new one on his potters wheel. Ra wanted something that even Seth would fear, and this was the result,” she explained. Odar stepped forward and placed a hand on her cheek, marveling at the softness of the short downy fur that covered her now, patterned after the cats that had joined her on the battlefield and now sat to either side of her. “Nakurr and Sharra, my new companions, courtesy of Khnum as well,” she introduced them.

Odar swallowed but accepted everything, embracing the two children that he thought he’d lost forever. After they separated, Horus spoke again, ‘It is my duty to choose the new pharaoh and guide him in the right path. And the new pharaoh will rule all of Kemet and Deshret, for it has been decided that the Cobra and the Vulture will be united for all time. The true pharaoh is one called Narmer, and he will be the first to rule over this united kingdom,” he declared, pulling another gasp from Odar, for that was his grandson, the only child of his only daughter.
Bast looked to Odar now, “I must go now, but I will return when Kemet has need of me once more…” she turned away and mounted the flame colored steed, riding off into the distance with the cats flanking her…………


Sebastet awoke to find herself lying on the ground with Nakurr standing over her with Sharra near her head and the five cubs flanking them. Caleb was standing just out of reach of the cats with his uncle and three younger people behind him. Caleb and Nakurr were arguing rather heatedly about moving her: Caleb was for it, Nakurr was against it. She drew one of her small concealed daggers, and then decided to speak up.

“Nakurr, the position you are currently in is giving me some ideas that you would find rather painful and the sound of you bickering with Caleb is making my head pound even more than it should be. So kindly shut up and get off of me!” She slapped the inside of his rear leg with the flat of the blade to encourage him. He got off of her with feline yelp and sat down facing her with his tail curled around his legs. Caleb instantly knelt next to her to help her sit up, but she waved him off, “I want the young woman you have standing twins there to help me to my room and possibly beg of Mary Margaret a cup of tea. If I see anyone in the next hour that has an ounce of testosterone in them, I’ll make a eunuch of him.”

The young woman stepped forward with a smile and helped her up, “I’m Heather, Caleb’s sister. The twins are Donall, with the blue eyes, and Conall, with the green eyes. I’ll just take ye’ up an’ ask Aunt Maggie tae make ye’ a cup o’ tea,” she said in a soft cheerful voice that had a musical lilt to it. Sharra followed, as did the two female cubs.

After entering the castle, Heather helped Bast towards the stairs. Sharra offered to go and request the tea, making Bast pause and turn to the feline, who spoke up, “Mary Margaret is getting used to me. It’s Nakurr that makes her uneasy…” she offered softly, nudging Bast up the stairs and telling the cubs to follow. Bast shrugged and complied, not wanting to fight anything at the moment. When they reached the top of the stairs, Heather only paused long enough to ask where Bast’s room was, took her there, and laid her on the bed. The cubs sat at the foot of the bed silently regarding Bast, who regarded them in return.

“What are the names you’ve chosen?” Bast asked them softly.

The larger of the two spoke first, “I’m Eyarra. Earth and Energy Grounding are my abilities.”

The smaller one spoke next, her voice soft, “I’m Marriset. Empathy and Healing.”

Bast nodded at them, “It’s a pleasure to meet the two of you at last-“ the door opening interrupted her. Mary Margaret bustled in with a tea tray followed closely by Sharra.

“I understand tha’ ye’ hae a splittin’ head and a desire to rend anything male. Well I hae the remedy for the first right here, though I canna do anythin’ aboot the second, I’m afraid…” the woman said simply as she set the tray on the end table by the bed and poured a cup of tea from the teapot, offering it to Bast with a small smile.

Bast took the cup and sipped from it, then leaned back against the pillows with a soft sigh before turning her attention to Mary Margaret, “Lady, you really shouldn’t fear the cats so much. Nakurr is a bag of hot air, and Sharra is the sweetest thing you could ever find. The cubs would gladly like to help you in any way you can think of…” she said softly, a hopeful expression on her face as she came directly to the point.

Mary Margaret gave a heavy sigh and sat down in a chair next to the bed, “I give up, I canna resist Sharra, nor could I e’er resist a child in any form. As fur Nakurr, he sounds too much like Hamish to try tae argue wi’ ye’.” she said in a defeated voice, though there was a smile on her face.

Marriset approached the woman cautiously and nuzzled her hand, her soft voice giving what comfort she could, “Eyarra and I could help you in the kitchens and the garden,“ she offered hopefully, her soft golden eyes wide and guileless. Eyarra’s tail moved restlessly behind her and her own eyes looked just as hopeful as her sister made the offer.

Mary Margaret gave a soft chuckle as she instinctively scratched the cubs ears, “All right, I’ll see what we can work oot…” she said softly, already liking the two cubs.

Bast gave a sigh of contentment; “The boys have already offered to hunt for you, Mary Margaret, so there will be plenty of meat for the larder. They do like fresh meat, though they prefer it cooked.”

Comprehension dawned on the woman’s face, “So tha’s what he was growlin’ aboot!” She said in a tone spoke of shock and final understanding.

“Yes… Nakurr is a bit picky about his feeding habits. But he left it up to me to explain for him, “Bast explained, hoping the woman would understand her reasons for it. Nakurr could be a pain if he wasn’t fed properly, and she didn’t want the poor woman to be blamed for not knowing about his feeding habits.

They spoke on this and other subjects for a long while. Bast’s headache finally faded and let her enjoy the conversation that was filled with laughter more often than not. Finally they all left her to rest, leaving her with her thoughts and worries for the days yet to come.


Outside:

Caleb watched Bast leave with mixed emotions before shaking his head and turning to Nakurr, “Well. I think we need something tae distract ourselves fur a while. How aboot a hunt?” he offered helpfully. The twins and the cubs’ faces and postures brightened considerably at the idea.

The largest of the cubs was practically squirming in place, “Hunt? You mean it?” he asked excitedly.

Nakurr gave a sigh and nodded his head, “He does Rashurr. Ranarr, Ferrish? Do you want to come as well?” he asked, looking at the other two in turn.

The smallest of the males shook his head, “I’ll hunt a bit later, if it’s okay with you Father. I’d rather look at the library, Mother told me that it is quite impressive.” He said in a hopeful tone, revealing that he was more interested in books than anything else.

Nakurr nodded his head to the bangle-patterned cub, “Alright, Ferrish. I’ll let you off this time. But you will add to the larder later,” he said firmly.

With that, Ferrish went inside the castle to the library as the others headed off to the forest with the humans after they acquired proper weapons. Rashurr had actually jumped in pure joy upon hearing that they would be hunting boar; Ranarr had merely nodded his head and said that he would flush the prey towards the hunters, moving off before any one could stop him.

Hamish took this all in stride, as if talking felines landed on his doorstep every day. The twins soon had themselves sorted out without asking any questions, though their eyes showed that Caleb would be getting a thorough interrogation as soon as they could corner him.

So passed the first day. The cubs fitting themselves in where they could and the humans finding the novelties of their guests a welcome addition to their home and lives. But the Games that Hamish had planned for were coming up soon, and how he planned to explain the guests was anyone’s guess.  

[Red Gypsy]

I'm starting to wonder about interest in this..., *sigh* Maybe I should just delete it since no one wants to say anything about it...  

[Rennie`]

Red Gypsy

I'm starting to wonder about interest in this..., *sigh* Maybe I should just delete it since no one wants to say anything about it...

Just because nobody has replied doesn't mean they are not interested. I thought there were still more chapter to go sweatdrop  

[Red Gypsy]

Rennie`

Red Gypsy

I'm starting to wonder about interest in this..., *sigh* Maybe I should just delete it since no one wants to say anything about it...

Just because nobody has replied doesn't mean they are not interested. I thought there were still more chapter to go sweatdrop

I'm still working on chater 3, I had to research the Highland Games. Getting the authentic information isn't easy!  

[Rennie`]

Red Gypsy

Rennie`

Red Gypsy

I'm starting to wonder about interest in this..., *sigh* Maybe I should just delete it since no one wants to say anything about it...

Just because nobody has replied doesn't mean they are not interested. I thought there were still more chapter to go sweatdrop

I'm still working on chater 3, I had to research the Highland Games. Getting the authentic information isn't easy!

I have the same problem with my novel, I'm still researching the everyday life and festivals. Now that I have 4 days off from work I can do that whee  

[Red Gypsy]

Rennie`

I have the same problem with my novel, I'm still researching the everyday life and festivals. Now that I have 4 days off from work I can do that whee

Sounds cool!  

[Red Gypsy]

Anyone have any suggestions for me?  

[Red Gypsy]

Someone please delete this thread for me. It's obvious that no on ehas any interest in it...  

[Rennie`]

It's not that nobody has any interest in it, recently this forum has become very quiet.

Would you want me to move it to the Misc. forum instead?  

[Red Gypsy]

*shrugs* Sure, if you think that will do any good...  

[Rennie`]

It is even quieter in the sub forums, nobody has touched them in a month sweatdrop but it's up to you.