Ok, so yeah. Beeeeen a while. Sorry :\

So, I won't recap (that would take the whole chapter) but do feel free to skim through the previous chapters (honestly, that would be great). I will, however, give you a recap of names. That I can manage so:
Ahk, Larry and Nick: You would not be here if you didn't know sooooo….

Jess: Bit of a git, afraid of the dark, nobody's entirely sure what to make of her yet, has frequent conversations with a voice inside her head aaaaaand she just got arrested

Thuoris: that drunk kid we met when they first arrived in the city

Hundra: drunk kid's mother. The lads currently stay in her house and work in her fields

Re-emkuy: a scribe in the palace and close friend of young Ahkmenrah's

Ramose: that guard captain fellow who arrested Jess

Menkhaf: that one sheep herder guy that was mentioned once a couple of chapters ago

Kheso: the city

Yeah, sorry for all the odd Egyptian names. I'm afraid with all the space that took up, I'm going to leave the shout outs until next time, see who picks this up again. Anyways, If you're sticking with me, you are my favourite person. So, without further adue, let's get started….

Chapter 11: New Day, Wallowing and the Man with No Name

"Well, I… can't really tell whether what you're doing is brave, or extraordinarily stupid,"

"Thanks," the girl grumbled as she moved a senet piece forward three spaces. "You just know exactly how to make me feel a good 20% worse about all this,"

She'd found herself in the dream room again, her surroundings still fuzzing out of focus whenever she looked about her. Her buddy, the mysterious hooded mass of static, had been there too, the senet board already set out between them. To no surprise, he was still difficult to make out. His form flickering constantly like her subconscious had a bad connection. But… was it just her, or were parts of him kind of… shifting into focus occasionally? Perhaps the resemblance of a shoulder here, or a hint of black canvas shoe maybe? Whether it was just her imagination or not (though, strictly speaking, everything about this guy was in 'her imagination'), these qualities fuzzed out of view as soon as they appeared.

She resolved to think about this later, and turned her thoughts to his initial statement. He had a valid point. Had it really been a good idea to stay behind?

"You think I should have gone with them, don't you?"

The figure's fuzzy shoulders shrugged and he picked up the throwing sticks.

"I really don't know," he sighed, "I couldn't claim to be a prophet I'm afraid,"

"Maybe I should leave through the secret passageway tomorrow,"

The stranger's deep voice made a chuckle as he moved his piece forward.

"You won't," it said, "If you've made one thing clear to those men, it's that you won't be backing down from a decision. You said you'd find out more about the Sons of Ma 'at, and that's what you'll be doing,"

Again, he had a point, the girl thought, snatching up the sticks for her turn. There was no way she'd let herself leave without something to take with her. She'd have to find that library again tomorrow, and find some time to sneak in and… wait.

The girl's stiff heart sunk to her gut and she let the throwing sticks slide out of her hand to clatter onto the floor. How could she have been so stupid?

"I… I can't do it," her voice said, softly. The stranger looked up at her from the spool he'd been fiddling with.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"I CAN'T READ THE SCROLLS!" She yelled in a sudden outburst that made the figure flinch and distort violently with her sudden rising of emotion. She snarled at the sticks by her feet and struck them away from her, sending them skittering across the ground. "THEY'RE WRITTEN IN FLAMIN HEIROGLYPHS… AND IN EGYPTIAN UNDER THAT!"

"Uh, Jess, you do know that- wait…" Mr Static flickered again, momentarily vanishing from sight, before fuzzing back into focus again. "Ok, that felt weird,"

Jessica ignored him and carried on, cursing in a very colourful fashion as she smacked her head a few more times.

"I can't even speak to people," she muttered, "how am I meant to get anything done without knowing what I'm reading? I should just leave tomorrow, find some other way-"

"You seem to be overlooking a couple of things," the stranger interrupted as he waved a finger in the air. The throwing sticks flew into his hand from where she'd chucked them. "First off, the tablet was stolen. Didn't you want to keep an eye on it? The thieves are sure to try again. Secondly-"

"And what if they do? What am I supposed to do then, stop them? I'm a shelf stacker. Ever hear of a hero who shelves organic produce and baked beans for a living?"

"It's an advantage," the figure continued, "You know what their goal is, and where they'll be at some point or other. At any rate I don't think you have to worry abou-"

"Ok, so I'll know where they'll be, but I can't warn anyone here about them" she huffed, cutting him off. "To begin with, according to Ahk, nobody really believes they exist. And, however way you look at it, I still can't speak Egyptian,"

"You're not-"

"And what if there's a fire and I suffer a gruesomely painful death because I don't understand the fire drill…"

"Jess-"

"… I could end up getting executed for saying the wrong thing…"

"Jessica,"

"…What if a guy hits on me and I miss an excuse to punch their kidney stones out because I have no idea what they're saying-"

"HEY!"

She halted and blinked, as though snapped out of an endless cycle of fretting. She glanced at the figure and just saw his shape seated before her, head cocked to one side and fingers twirling the sticks, thoughtfully.

"What?" she asked, "What is it?"

He paused, and then chuckled softly.

"What is so funny?"

"Well, first," he replied with an amused tone in his voice, "I wouldn't worry about guys hitting on you. Not with your personality,"

"Shut up,"

"And second… you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Ha! You haven't noticed, have you?" Jessica could tell he was likely grinning behind that static.

"Oh, mate. You are trying my patience," she growled.

"Huh," The figure leaned over the sennet board and the girl could almost feel his gaze drilling through her eye sockets. "Jessica," he resumed, "You do know we've been having this entire conversation in Egyptian, don't you?"

Her eyes widened and she chocked back a nervous laugh.

"What- what on Earth are you on abou-" Her voice failed her as she suddenly noticed the unfamiliar words trickling out of her mouth, and she clamped a hand over it. After a minute, Jess hesitantly removed her palm from her lips and swallowed. "How…" she croaked in English, "How did I do that?"

"Maybe you'll do better than you thought in the waking world," the figure suggested, a chuckle still in his voice as he reverted back to English himself, before scooping up the sennet pieces and stuffing them into the little draw built into the board. "I wish you luck out there." With a wave of his hand, the game set vanished in a small pile of billowing grey fog.

The girl blinked, and then noticed her surroundings skitter in and out of existence. She realized that her body must be on the brink of waking up and felt herself panic.

"Wait," she tried, "You know what just happened. Tell me what's going on," When the figure began to get to his feet, Jess leaped forward to grab for the figure's arm. When her fingers closed around his flickering limb, the digits felt a tingling sensation roll up to her wrist. Despite this feeling, she could clearly feel the texture of some kind of fabric under her fingers. The arm itself seemed to react to her grip, the limb becoming more visible as she looked on. Now she could just about make out a dark grey sleeve, made out of wool maybe, or cotton. "What-"

But it was too late to ask any questions. The figure gently prised her fingered from his arm and both he, and the room, guttered out of existence, leaving her to wake up.

oOo

Jessica woke to someone prodding at her ribs with their foot. It was the head cook, his face etched with a permanent scowl. He was glaring down at her.

The man had taken an immediate disliking to her when told that she'd be living in the kitchen, and so proceeded to dump her in its most cramped corner to sleep on nothing but a crumpled rag between two tables. Jess hadn't a clue why he'd been so ticked off by this idea. She hadn't leaped at the prospect either.

She didn't take any of it personally though, despite him barking at her whenever she walked through the kitchen. From what she'd seen, he yelled at everyone, and she found herself thankful that she wasn't one of those working in his kitchen 24/7.

Right now, however, the kitchen was where she slept. This apparently gave the man the right to jar her from her sleep with a rib kicking.

The girl blinked and sat up groggily, only to be snapped at by the cook to hurry up. She grunted to say she was getting up, deciding not to speak as that would likely get a box round the ear. She guessed he'd likely take any unfamiliar word as an insult.

The man gave her one last kick (which sorely tempted her to break his leg) and stormed away, perhaps to peel grapes for his royal majesty.

His royal majesty, huh,

Fuming silently, the girl stood up, kicking the rags back to crumple against the wall like it had killed her puppy or something.

She supposed that wrongly enslaving someone just to please the crowd wasn't a very big deal to young Ahkmenrah. Well, he hadn't exactly made any attempt to apologise for that. She'd just been clad in black cuffs and dumped into an ancient Egyptian laundry room to scrub linen and forgotten about.

It seemed the young king had improved with age. She thought about how Ahk had acted back at the museum. He'd been kind, understanding. He'd let her out of that cupboard, and when she'd urged him to leave the reading room, his mind was only on the friend he didn't want to leave behind.

Yes, she thought, passing the man that stood guard by the servant's door to the small outside area, He has changed.

And, of course, she could leave at any time. At least that was one upside to their attempted rescue. Now she knew where the secret passage was. She would just have to keep telling herself that.

Outside, the morning sun skimmed the top of the small courtyard. The yard was cast in shade, though the air was still uncomfortably hot. Sweat trickled down her neck and dampened the neckline of her dress.

In one corner, there stood a fresh pile of unwashed linens. Maybe a dozen women, young and old, slaves and servants, crowded around a shallow pool in the centre of the yard. They were all hard at work, scrubbing fabrics vigorously, dumping the clean ones in reed baskets beside them. When a basket was full, other servants would take it away through a rug covered door. Jessica knew that this door led to a connecting courtyard, open to the sun. The linen would be hung up there to dry. The previous day, Jessica had checked to see if there was an exit through that way. There was. Another door led straight through the inner wall and into Upper Kheso. Unfortunately, that door had two rather lethal looking guards preventing anyone from sneaking in (or in her case, sneaking out).

With a begrudged sigh, Jess grabbed an armful of linen off the pile and knelt beside the pool. And she thought about her dream.

oOo

Nicky wasn't the type to slander, even in the privacy of his own head. Most of the time, he really did try to be a glass half full kinda guy. He'd try not to judge people by their actions. But honestly, right now, Ahkmenrah was making him want to drag his royal butt across the field and dump him into the Nile.

The guy had been silent all the way back to Hundra's house, his face a brooding mask of mope. The same could be said for this morning. Despite actually being able to wake up to sunlight for only the second time in millennia, Ahk had just got up, made his bed, and headed to the fields without even bothering to eat. You'd have thought he had the weight of the world on his shoulders but no, he was just moody because Jess had opted not to come with them. Sure, it was a bit… frustrating that the rescue had turned sour, but did you see Nick taking brooding to sparkly vampire standards? No. You did not.

"Dude, you couldn't have made her come with us," He told the young king as he hacked away at the trench. The heat was passed uncomfortable and Nicky sorely wished he had a bottle of SPF 50. His dad didn't look much better, digging his own trench in the other side of the field.

Ahkmenrah was just across from him, chipping away at the dry soil at the base of a large rock. It was in the path of the progressing ditch and so kinda needed to be shifted. The plan was to loosen the dirt at its base and roll it out of the way.

Ahk gave him a brief glance.

"I could've tried harder," he grunted, stabbing at the ground with his spade.

"Wouldn't have made a difference," Nicky stopped digging and leaned on the spade shaft, frowning at his friend who'd gone back to glaring at the ground he was assaulting. "Why are you so upset by this Ahk?"

"Not upset," the young man mumbled.

"Then kindly explain why you've been acting like someone shit in your shoes all morning,"

Ahk scrunched his nose at the comparison, but the look vanished before he straightened up and looked at him.

"It's my fault," he said with a shrug of his shoulders and a dead expression.

"What?" Nick replied, bewildered, "How the hell is it your fault?"

"She didn't want any part of this. I told her what the tablet could do. I hid in her house until you and your father came along, which, might I remind you, got her house blown up. It was I that brought us here, inadvertently I grant you, but it was still me who said the words. It was my tablet that she got arrested for saving and it is I that passed the sentence of servitude,"

"So that's what this is about," Nicky muttered, driving the spade into the ground again. "You're mad at younger you,"

Ahk spread his arms in frustration.

"Did I not mention the abundance of other things?" he said. Nicky shrugged.

"Yeah but… most of that is as much her fault as anyone else's," he reasoned, "She didn't have to give you a place to hide out, she didn't have to come with us, and she certainly didn't have to go chasing after thieves. There is no way even you can keep blaming yourself for that." He sniffed and deftly rubbed sweat from his brow. "Nah, you're mad at something you did over four thousand years ago,"

Ahkmenrah was silent again. After a few seconds he wordlessly continued his violent crusade against the immovable rock. Nicky decided not to interrupt him. He may have finally started to think about what he was really angry about. At least, Nicky hoped that was the case, and that he wasn't just wallowing in the same brooding soup he'd been stewing in all morning.

It wasn't until a good five minutes had passed when Ahk spoke up again.

"I don't even remember it you know,"

"Hmm?"

"The trial. I don't remember it… I don't remember Jess ever being there, in the palace,"

Nicky frowned and glanced up at him.

"You saying you didn't recognise her at all when you first met her in our time?"

Ahk shrugged.

"To me the first time I met her was three years ago… chronologically speaking. Her family came to New York and we had a brief encounter,"

"Did not know that…" Nicky replied, then, "so, you're mad that you don't remember?"

Ahkmenrah stabbed the flint spade into the ground so hard that it stayed wedged at an odd angle. The young king then started kicking at the rock, trying to topple it to one side.

"Why would I be mad at that?" he grumbled, "Why would I be mad that I don't remember sentencing someone unjustly. Believe you me, that… child, on the throne, he's no idiot. He knows she didn't do it but he enslaved her anyway because he wanted to please the crowd," at this, he put on mocking tone. "And apparently, this was so insignificant to him that he forgets it ever happened,"

The young New Yorker raised his eyebrows. This was quite a bit of angst the pharaoh had been carrying.

"Hey," he said haltingly, ceasing his digging, "It's been four thousand years buddy, I think you get a pass on forgetting a few things,"

Ahkmenrah kept stamping.

"But I remember everything else," he grunted, giving a kick with each word, "I remember every council I had to attend, I remember every -*grunt*- treaty I signed. In fact, I remember this birthday… I remember…"

It sounded like he wanted to add something else, but decided not to say it.

"Remember what?" Nick prompted. Ahkmenrah just scowled and gave the rock another heavy kick.

"GODS CURSE THIS STONE!" he yelled, which got the attention of that fella with the walking stick… Menkhaf, that was his name. He was wandering about the opposite field, keeping eyes on a bunch of sheep when he'd heard Ahk's cursing. The old man shouted something across to the pharaoh, sounding irritable, and the pharaoh hollered something back. Though, Nicky couldn't understand a word that was said, he doubted the exchange was a PG rating. Looking at Ahk bellow at the sheep herder made him think of early teenage tantrums he'd had with both his parents. He should really start apologising to them for those.

Across the field, the old herder gave them an angry flick of his arm, and turned back to his sheep. Ahkmenrah fumed for a moment, but then the petulance drained from his face and he sat down on the ground with a hefty thwump, back against the rock, head in his hands. Nicky looked at his friend for a minute.

"Been holding that in huh?" he said, dropping his spade. Ahk nodded and Nick sighed. He brushed the grime from his hands and walked over to him. "Budge," he muttered, nudging him with his foot. Ahk budged and Nicky slid down to sit beside him.

"What kind of person was I Nicky?"

"Don't know," the young man replied, "But the you I know... he's a good guy. Maybe you should stop punishing that guy for something he can't change,"

Ahkmenrah didn't say anything for a minute.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"For what?"

"My behaviour… it's been pretty bad,"

"That's ok Ahk," Nick assured, "Just, no more wallowing in self-torment, ok?"

Ahkmenrah frowned.

"I'll endeavour to keep it internal," he muttered.

Nicky slapped him on the shoulder.

"Thaaat's the spirit," he said, "Now, we're gonna move the rock and finish the trench,"

"Right,"

"…and then we're going to start asking around, like Jess told us to,"

"Yes,"

"And there will be no more brooding because, if there is," He changed his voice to a whisper, "I will actually throw you into the Nile,"

Ahk blinked at him.

"….ok,"

Nicky smiled, stood up, and held a hand out to the pharaoh.

"Let's get to it then,"

oOo

The room was dim and foreboding. Round stone columns towered above the occupants, holding up a ceiling painted with the giant image of Nekhbet, the vulture goddess. Her wings stretched wide from one end of the room to another, and her beady eyes seemed to glare down at the slim man who stood, nervously before the ivory desk. Three guards stood behind him, clad in red and gold, baring the small wooden doors behind him. The only exit.

Stood behind the desk, scouring over an extensive map of all Egypt, was the king's brother.

The man must've been at least two decades older than the Paro, and yet, here he was, seated at the war council and not on the actual throne. Nobody knew the exact circumstances of Ahkmenrah's ascension, but the man counted it a lucky escape. No one should want this guy as their king.

Kahmunrah was a vicious, bloodthirsty man by nature. He found pleasure in torture and even more so in killing. There were skeletons in his closet over which demons would call foul.

And now the man stood before him, twisting his grubby tunic between his fingers in anxiety. He eyed the prince, who had not yet given him heed, and threw fearful glances at the sharpened khopesh that rested by his hand. Its curved black blade winked evilly at him in the torchlight.

It felt like an eternity before Kahmunrah spoke.

"Do you know why you're here?" He did not even look up from the map.

"B-because I… uh,"

"Speak up," the prince urged, voice a false mask of patience. The slim man cleared his throat.

"Because I failed, sir,"

"That's right," Kahmunrah sighed and stood straight, staring down at the man, loftily. "You failed," His cold eyes narrowed, boring into the man's own. "What was your name?"

The man opened his mouth to reply, but Kahmunrah held up a hand to silence him.

"Actually, I don't care,"

The prince ran a hand over the khopesh's blade, almost thoughtful. He picked it up and slowly walked around the table, absently whirling the weapon in circular motions. The blade skimmed through the air with a methodical, shink, shink sound.

"You failed to bring me what. I. wanted,"

"Please, I can try again, just-"

The man's sentence was abruptly cut off by the sudden blade at his throat, blocking the next syllable from his lips.

"Oh please," Kahmunrah hissed, a cold smile on his lips, "interrupt me again. I do so wish to cut your throat right now,"

As though to emphasise the point, the khopesh dug deeper into the man's neck. He didn't say another word.

Kahmunrah stepped closer, close enough to smell the salted meat on his breath.

"I wanted that tablet," he said softly, "You told me that you could get it for me, but what happened?"

"… It was taken from me-"

"It was taken from you," the prince pursed his lips, "And not too long afterwards, the guards find it in the hands of a grubby little girl and they bring the damn thing right back to my brother. Now tell me, did she take it from you?"

The man tensely shook his head.

"N-no sir,"

Kahmunrah raised an eyebrow.

"Then who did?"

The man swallowed.

"It was a stranger sir,"

"A stranger?"

"A man, dressed all in black," His heart was thudding wildly now, trying to break free from his chest. He could feel the cold edge at his throat, and a bead of liquid crawl down his neck. Whether it was sweat or blood, he did not know. "I- I did manage to sneak it out of the palace sir, passed the priests and guards. But, coming up to the palace, I was struck from behind. I came to a minute later, but… but the tablet was gone. I heard the guards had caught sight of a man in black, so… so-"

"I assumed the man they spoke of was you,"

"N-no sir,"

Kahmunrah examined the man's face, his gaze sending a cold shiver down his spine. The prince's eyes were like a snake's, watching for a hint of movement, waiting for an opportunity to strike. After a moment, his lip curled.

"You didn't even manage to reach the inner wall,"

And then he stepped back, taking the blade away from his throat. The man breathed in a choked breath of relief.

"Who would you recommend?" the prince continued.

"Sir?"

"To try again," Kahmunrah threw the khopesh down onto the table and it clattered loudly against the ivory. "You have proved rather incompetent so, I am asking you, who would you recommend to try again?"

The man blinked.

"Uh… there is a man that I know. His name is Amehn. He lives in lower Kheso,"

Kahmunrah nodded and turned to face him again, smiling coldly.

"Thank you," he said, graciously.

And then he stabbed the man in the belly.

The man grasped in surprise, and pain. Then his lifeless body slid to the floor and lay there, unmoving. Blood began pooling around the corpse, and Kahmunrah wrinkled his nose.

"Get this cleaned up," he told the guards, and then nodded to the dead man with no name, "And we don't want anyone finding him. Give him to the crocodiles."

The guards bowed and did as they were bid. As they dragged the man's body out of the room, the prince took one last glance at his shocked face.

The man had failed.

He'd failed to bring him the tablet,

He'd failed to talk himself out of this,

And, perhaps more importantly… he'd failed to notice the knife.

Alright so, not much in the way of plot in that one I'm afraid. It was more a catch up and a character introduction. Anyways, chapters coming soon so don't hesitate to follow up this beauty ;) and leave a comment or two. Please…. Leave a comment…. Please. I like hearing from people. You guys are so awesome. Have a good weekend fellas x