A God of Old Ch. 10

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Next steps are discussed; another priestess is broken.
11.4k words
4.57
14.4k
10

Part 10 of the 11 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 03/09/2016
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majicman21
majicman21
1,296 Followers

Ancient Egypt:

A scurrying sound echoed in the dark cell. Out from a hole in the juncture between wall and floor came a rat.

Hunger drove it to sneak around the small room.

The only thing of note was a heap huddled in the corner.

Sensing a meal, the rat scurried over.

To its delight, underneath a curtain of moldy gray fabric was flesh. The rat took an exploratory sniff of the scant form.

And then something closed on its backside.

Squeaking in surprise, the rat tried to twist out of the grip, and would have succeeded if not for another something grabbing its head.

Ten whacks against the floor later, and the rat was dead, its skin split here and there from the force of the impacts.

Nahanit sat back, chomping down happily, tolerating the aches that had sprung up from the sudden exertion.

When she had first been thrown in the cell, the jailers had brought by one meal a day and had also made sure to give her new clothes and let her wash up once a week.

But after a while, the meals had stopped, along with the other accommodations.

Nahanit had quickly realized that she had been forgotten, consigned to rot in the cell.

At the time she had bitterly blamed Enkartep, whose newfound power had turned her into a decrepit wretch.

But now, after however much time in such squalid isolation, her only thought was of staying sane.

Her jaw ached as she tore into the greasy meat of the rat.

After a while without food, she had realized that starvation would not claim her, likely due to the curse that Enkartep had placed upon her. However, while she would not die, the hunger pangs were no less relentless.

The first rats she had seen, in the early days of her imprisonment, had made her shrink away in disgust.

Once the hunger began to grip her so desperately, their scurrying only made her chase them, scrabbling along on aching hands and wobbly knees. The critters were always too quick for her to corner, and too small for her weak eyes to spot accurately in the shadows.

Eventually, Nahanit had developed a simple strategy.

The rats, like her, were hungry.

She stayed still one day, and sure enough, one of the rats came over to investigate.

Although that attempt had been fruitless, on the fourth attempt she managed to snag one, beating it to death against the floor.

Just the act of eating something had brought her back from the brink of insanity.

Her strategy would have worked more often were she not so slow and weak, but here and there it did, the occasional meal easing the pangs in her belly.

Nahanit had no clue as to how much time had passed since her incarceration.

At first, it had been easy enough to keep track, given the daily meals and weekly hygienic allowances.

But by now it could have been days or months or years.

Scuffling footsteps sounded then from outside her door.

She sat upright, curious, not having heard anyone approaching her cell in a long time. Hers was the last in a long row, deep down in the bowels of some temple.

The door creaked open, slowly but surely, as old and decrepit as she was.

Someone strode into the room, their imposing profile stark against the light of the corridor.

"Get up."

She gazed up, her eyes trying to make out their face, to see if she recognized them.

Grunting in annoyance, the figure reached down to haul her to her feet.

The roughness made her cry out in pain, aches erupting all over her body, her spasming hand dropping the rat. Had it not been for the strong grip on her arm, she would have fallen back down.

The figure dragged her from the cell.

Present day, in Marrakesh:

The jeep trundled into the compound.

In the backseat sat Rachel and Maria.

Ahead of them, in the middle of the main plaza, stood two figures, one in combat fatigues, the other in a rumpled suit.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel noticed Maria wince, her old body bothered by even the tiniest bumps the jeep went over.

"Stop here," the imperious woman told the driver.

Rachel slipped out, and hustled around to the other side, opening the door.

The first time she had done this, she had made the mistake of holding out her hand for Maria to take.

The older woman had leveled a rancorous gaze at her.

"Put your hand away," she had snapped.

Rachel had thus learned her lesson.

Slowly and laboriously, Maria stepped out from the jeep, and walked over to the two men.

"Greetings, ma'am," Colonel Dario Alba said smoothly.

"So good to see you," chirped Minister Gunter Feld.

"Why are you two still here?" Maria asked acidly.

Rachel stood expectantly next to her boss, watching as the two men adopted confused looks.

The colonel recovered first.

"We wanted to see what you needed from us."

"Follow the plan," came the terse answer.

"We also wanted to see why you came here," the minister added.

"What does that matter? The operation has been moved to Valencia, yes? Those were my orders."

The colonel nodded.

"And the security system is keyed to full force?"

The colonel nodded again.

"Then you two go to Valencia."

"What will you do?"

"I shall wait here."

"This is a dangerous place to be. Our enemy will get the location of this place from Samir."

Maria nodded impatiently.

"Yes, I know."

The colonel opened his mouth, but after a wrathful glare from Maria, did not say anything more.

"Should we leave behind anyone to help you?" the minister asked.

"No," she told him, "I shall be the only one here."

"Very well then. Colonel Alba and I will take everyone else to Valencia."

"Take Rachel with you as well."

Rachel did her best to resist letting out a sigh of relief.

Valencia will be much safer.

"Of course," the minister said.

"Rachel," Maria said then, turning to her, "thank you for your service these past few years."

"Uh...you're welcome. I learned a lot."

"Goodbye, Rachel."

"Bye."

Rachel watched as Maria turned back to the compound, gazing at it as if appraising it.

"Well, time to leave," the colonel said, gesturing for Rachel to follow him and the minister.

She nodded, and walked after them. As they began a conversation, the minister agitated and the colonel calm, her attention shifted back to Maria, who was still gazing at the compound.

Also present day, in Cairo:

Amina sat among the gaggle of priestesses in the common area.

All the women were gathered, with Yussef and the other contacts waiting in another room.

Their master had told her he would return by now, with a promise of discussing the next steps of the plan.

Her mind went over the various priestesses there, all of whom had been bedded by Enkartep the previous day.

Almost all had needed to have their minds changed by his power, that number including her.

Besides Salome, only three had not needed such persuasion: Kavita, the laconic and laid-back carnal priestess from Patna, Flor, the vivacious and friendly representative priestess from Pasig, and Genevieve, the stoic and dedicated martial priestess from Rotterdam.

Suddenly, voices came from the corridor; every woman turned to the doorway.

Through it strode their master, with the two women from the desert on either side of him.

Every priestess in the room stood to greet him.

"Oh, how I missed all my priestesses," he said warmly, strolling through the gathering.

"Master," began Amina, quickly shouldering through the press, "you told me to gather everyone to discuss our next steps."

"Of course," he replied, nodding thankfully.

She gestured to a high-backed chair in the middle of the room.

Again nodding thankfully, he sat.

To her surprise and concern, the two women with him sat down at his feet.

The other priestesses took seats, many of them glancing warily at the two strangers.

"Now then," Enkartep began, "our next steps."

There was a moment or two of silence, and then a frown crossed his lips.

"Before we begin, however, I am sensing some concern among my priestesses."

He glanced around, brow furrowed.

"Share these concerns and I shall soothe them."

Silence was the response. Some priestesses shifted nervously in their seats.

"Master," Amina began, "some of us are concerned about, uh, those two."

Her comment ended with a gesture to the duo at his feet.

They pressed closer to him in response, each wrapping an arm around one of his thighs.

"They are priestesses. Kristin and Stacy, say hello to your sisters."

Kristin and Stacy waved.

"Master," Flor began, "how are they priestesses? We would know them."

He nodded.

"Ah, yes. They are new priestesses."

"How?" Nathalie asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"How are they priestesses? By what right? We have labored our entire lives to bring you back. That is why we are priestesses. What have they done?"

Enkartep glanced around.

"All your labors," he began, "did they free me?"

The priestesses shifted nervously.

"No, they did not. These two, however, did free me. And they did not even know they were doing so. That is why they are my priestesses."

He turned his piercing gaze to Nathalie.

"You ask by what right they are my priestesses? I ask you by what right do you question such a thing?"

She blushed furiously, rendered unable to answer.

"Have care when you question my wisdom, for my tolerance has limits."

Tears brimmed at her eyes, fear obvious across her face, the fact that she had overstepped painfully obvious in retrospect.

"Master," Amina cut in hurriedly, "she only reacted so indignantly because we have indeed labored our whole lives in service to you. That is no insult to these new priestesses; it is a compliment to you and how passionately we serve you."

His gaze turned to her.

The intensity there was unmistakable; only her willpower kept her from looking away.

"Then I am humbled to have such passionate priestesses," he said smoothly, turning to Nathalie with a smile.

A hand shot up, from Lauren, the guileless and loyal martial priestess from Oklahoma City.

"Speak," Enkartep told her.

"Master, I do not intend to question your wisdom, but we were all vetted and are monitored, to root out any potential traitors or spies. Could it not be that these new priestesses are efforts from our enemies to gain intelligence or create havoc in our ranks?"

He chuckled.

"Even if they were once enemies, they are now entirely and irrevocably mine."

Lauren hesitated.

"Their minds are broken," he continued, "and as such, they have no thoughts beyond pleasure."

His hands came down to caress their hair. They canted their heads back at his touch.

"Tell your sisters who you belong to."

"We belong to Enkartep," they said together.

"Good enough for me," Lauren murmured.

Another silence fell, and then he spoke up again.

"I sense more concerns. I wish to have them allayed so that we may continue."

Another hand shot up, this time from Victoria, the outspoken and energetic martial priestess from Miami.

"Speak," he told her.

"Why do they have the place of honor at your feet?"

He chuckled again.

"The place of honor?"

"They are the closest to you."

His hands again stroked at their hair.

"Their place is not of honor, it is of submission. As I said, their minds are broken. They would like nothing more than to give and take pleasure, and such is what they will do forevermore. Such an existence, such a life, such a mind, has no need of honor. I know their thoughts; right now, they are wondering when I might let them get to know their new sisters. Isn't that right?"

Kristin and Stacy nodded eagerly, grinning at each other.

"Can we now?" Stacy asked.

"Not yet," came the calm answer.

He turned back to Victoria.

"There is an easy way to join them at my feet."

His piercing gaze now had a different effect, making the American woman blush and squirm.

"I can break your mind as I did theirs. Give you so much pleasure that your mind finds itself constantly craving it, concerned only with getting and giving it. Your life would be spent spreading your legs for me, my warriors, and your sisters. Any talents or skills that you possess would be useless unless they helped in the pursuit of pleasure."

Silence fell in the room for a few seconds. Victoria continued to squirm, blushing redder, her eyes flickering to the two women at their master's feet.

"Master," Amina spoke up, "may we begin our discussion now?"

"Of course. Who would like to begin?"

"Should we invite our contacts in?" Flor asked.

He shook his head.

"We will speak to them later. Right now, this is between us."

Another silence descended.

"Master," Amina began after a few seconds, "it is obvious that our enemies know that you are free, and as the captive downstairs demonstrates, they are not shy. I would think that we deal with them before we do anything else."

He gave no answer, only glancing around the room, as if to gauge the other women.

"I agree with her," Flor spoke up.

A few others voiced their agreement.

"But Master has proven that he can handle our enemies," cut in Samara, the diminutive and argumentative martial priestess from Ankara.

"We should instead focus on our allies," agreed Iris.

"With the contacts from the representative priestesses," Samara continued, "we can begin to build a network of allies, and from there regain power."

A few others voiced their agreement.

"If we ignore our enemies, it will only strengthen them now," Amina replied, "and with those enemies out of the way early, the task of regaining power will be easier."

A debate broke out, with many priestesses falling on either side. A few, like Salome and Genevieve, were content to watch and listen.

"We have to remember," said Esperanza, the carnal priestess from Guadalajara, who just the day before had been returned to her youthfulness along with Agatha and Beatrice, thanks to their master's power, "that our enemies may strike us in different ways. The attack on our Master and Amina was only one potential operation. We could have political enemies."

"Which is why we need to solidify our relationships with our contacts," Kumiko spoke up.

Throughout the debate, Enkartep remained silent.

"What do you think, Master?" Salome finally asked, her first entry into the conversation.

All eyes turned to him.

"We do not need to limit ourselves," he said.

A few priestesses exchanged confused glances.

"The representative priestesses can work on establishing relationships through their contacts, while I, with the help from the martial priestesses, can destroy our enemies. All that is left is determining which exact steps to take."

"And," added Soo Jung, the young and winsome carnal priestess from Seoul, "figuring out what we carnal priestesses will do."

Enkartep smiled at her, some priestesses chuckling, mainly carnal priestesses.

"The carnal priestesses will serve me carnally. And perhaps, although not to limit your talents, to help keep this household."

Soo Jung nodded.

"But do not forget, my lovely priestesses, all of you are expected to serve me in the same way as them."

There was a ripple of affirmative murmuring; every priestess had been informed of that part of their duties.

It was Amina, as usual, who brought the debate back up.

"But you should be there, Master, when we make contact with the governments."

He nodded.

"I will be there, just not at first. I will rely on my representative priestesses to begin the process. At some point, I will speak to those who we have deemed potential allies, and make sure that they are firmly on our side."

"But, we can only promise," Iris spoke up, "while if you were there, you could show them your power."

Enkartep shook his head.

"It is prudent for me to remain hidden from our allies for just a little while longer. Those who stand staunchly by us even without proof of my power will be true allies."

Amina sat back, watching as the debate continued. Their master was eager to hear their thoughts, so he let the talking continue for another half an hour, before finally putting an end to the meeting.

"Our discussion does not end now," he assured them, "and it is folly to rush into decisions as important as this. We shall talk again tomorrow, and again the day after that, and then we shall make our decision."

He stood, and the priestesses did as well, the meeting adjourned.

"My representative priestesses," he began, "please accompany me to visit your contacts."

"What about the rest of us?" Victoria asked.

"Head into the dining room. We shall join you, but first I will speak to the contacts."

"I don't think anyone cooked anything," Amina realized lamely.

"Crap," said Violet, a carnal priestess from Paris, the nominal chef of the group.

"Do not worry," Enkartep assured them, "just sit down at the table and you will get what you want."

Most of the priestesses stood there, blinking in confusion, but Salome moved towards the dining room.

"Do you not trust our Master?" she asked sardonically once she realized that nobody had followed her.

The casual rebuke broke them out of their confusion. They headed towards the dining room.

As the representative priestesses headed elsewhere, Amina saw Kristin and Stacy still clinging to Enkartep.

"Go eat," he told them, "I'll join you shortly."

They pouted, but headed off towards the dining room.

Amina watched them go, and found herself feeling a mix of pity and jealousy.

"The pity I understand," Enkartep spoke up, "but why jealousy?"

She glanced at him.

"To spend my time thinking of nothing but pleasure? It would be an easy life."

He chuckled.

"You are far too valuable to me to have that happen to you."

She nodded.

"Yes, I know. I don't know whether to feel disappointed or relieved by that."

He chuckled again.

In the dining room:

The priestesses filed into the dining room.

Since Salome had been one of the two to first see their risen Master, she had found herself with a strange sort of fame among the group. The fact that she simply had been lucky enough to be on call when he had been freed meant nothing to them; instead, they had understood her somehow as closer to their Master, as a favorite of his.

Which meant that they all hurried to sit near her, so that they could bask in the proximity and bombard her with questions about the experience of witnessing his rise.

After a minute or so, Kristin and Stacy padded into the dining room.

In a display of cattiness straight from some high school movie, many of the priestesses averted their eyes, with others glaring at the newcomers. Only a handful were neutral or casually interested.

Salome, on the other hand, wanted to get to know them. Her Master's word had been enough for her to accept them as her new sisters.

The duo had sat down at another table, by themselves, not noticing the negative attention they drew.

Ignoring the cavalcade of questions, she went over to them.

"May I sit with you two?"

They nodded, gesturing to an empty seat beside them.

She sat down and extended her hand.

"My name is Salome. I must admit I was hesitant to accept you as sisters when we first met, but I trust our Master, and I trust that you two will be exceptional priestesses."

"I'm Stacy," said to the one closer to her, accepting her handshake.

"I'm Kristin," the other said, also accepting the handshake.

"And thanks," Stacy added, "we're happy to be here."

"And," Kristin cut in, glancing around at the other priestesses, who were watching the scene with a mixture of mild incredulity and measured acceptance, "we can't wait to get to know our new sisters."

majicman21
majicman21
1,296 Followers