The eternal flame douses their path in red, the leadened sky dulling every sound in favor of deep mutedness. Neith had lived through strange times, but she finds this stranger yet.
It pleases her that Mekh is already becoming acquainted with the court. “Setemhotep and Sitamun have found their measure within Satriya; I wish the same embracing for all of my people,” she explains, implying that there is some choice despite the apparent inferiority of his coy-blood.
“There will be a wedding, and His Great One’s coronation to the horus throne. Royal dinners, ceremonies, guiding newcomers and attending emissaries— these are fitting places for one who hears whispers. As a fellahin, these would be your tasks. Yet the path of a mazoi is not closed to you. Should you wish to hunt and guard the desert’s borders, the jodai will instruct you in the disciplines of Pharaoh’s army."



