Brand looked at the man, realizing he was a porter.
“The man asked you a question,” Esther said when Brand hesitated.
“Yes,” Brand said, making sure to look at the porter and not at Esther. “Just looking for my compartment.”
“No problem, sir. Let me see your ticket, and I’ll show you the way.”
Brand handed the man his ticket.
The man nodded. “You’re nearly there. Follow me.”
Brand did as the man said, and two minutes later, he was in his own compartment. It was a Pullman car with wide berths set up high for sleeping, though they looked about as comfortable as sleeping on a two-by-four. The porter explained that if Brand wanted his boots cleaned, he could simply set them outside the door and that, if he chose, he could take meals in his car too.
“I’d rather have company for eating,” Brand said.
“In that case, sir, the dining car is the next car back,” the porter said. “Should you need anything else, Mr. Easton, just let me know.”
“Thanks,” Brand said. “I appreciate it.”
As the porter moved on, Brand closed the door.
“Distracted much?” Esther asked.
“Just lagged from the time travel, I think,” Brand said.
“You have plenty of time to adjust.”
“Yeah. I need some rest. I know you can’t leave, but can you give me some peace and quiet for a while so I can relax?”
“I can give you fifteen feet of space,” Esther said and stepped through the compartment wall.
Brand sighed. Having Esther within fifteen feet all the damn time was going to get really old really fast.
He sat down in his compartment and stared out the window. The view was different, but it still reminded him of that final ride with his mother all those years ago. He frowned. Actually, he realized, it was many years from now. He closed his eyes and forced the memories aside. He didn’t want to remember a time when he’d been weak. Especially now that he was no longer a Sekutar. It was a reminder he didn’t need.
CHAPTER NINE
JONATHAN SHADE
That afternoon, we went back out to where we’d had the so-called demonstration. The magician’s body was gone. There were a few people there to watch, but most citizens were too busy working to take the time to enjoy a chariot race. The chariots and horses were already in line on the gravel road.
Kelly had slept for several hours, and she assured me she was feeling better, but her mouth and her eyes told different stories.
Ankhesenamun walked over to Kelly and me when we arrived. “As foreigners, you may not be familiar with chariots. As such, I have a charioteer assigned to instruct you.”
“I thought we were here to observe,” I said, hoping to find a way out.
Ankhesenamun gave me an understanding smile. “You have earned the right to participate. You came to our land already able to speak Egyptian, so you are well on your way to earning citizenship. If you accept our culture, you can soon be full-fledged citizens. My husband likes you, though I suspect that may be partly due to the fact that Aye despises you.”
I wanted to respond that Aye was an asshole, but I wasn’t sure how the translation would work, so I tried to stick with words that would easily translate and convey the meaning I intended. “I won’t shed any tears over how Aye feels about us.”
“About you,” Ankhesenamun said. “He respects your wife.”
“As well he should,” Kelly said.
Ankhesenamun laughed. “I like you,” she said.
We walked over to the chariots, and a slender man bowed to us. “I am Yafeu and I am to instruct you in the art of the chariot.”
Yafeu went over how to drive the chariot and how to control the two horses that would pull us. I elected to drive the team because we were also supposed to fire arrows at targets using a composite bow. Kelly could fire the arrows, where I could not. If we were going to war, I’d also have to hold a shield, but this was merely a race with some target practice, so the shield was not required. I took the reins to the horses in my hands and drew a deep breath to calm my nerves.
Tut climbed into his chariot with a Nubian driver. He held his composite bow aloft and called everyone to get ready. There were six chariots in the race. Each had a team of two horses, and each chariot had a driver and an archer. Kelly balanced herself with ease and placed a hand on my lower back.
“We don’t need to win this,” she said. “Just try to keep us close enough that we don’t look foolish.”
“There’s no way we’re going to win this. I just want to get us back in one piece.”
“There is that.”
Tut gave the signal for the race to begin.
I urged our horses into motion, and I nearly fell backward as the chariot jerked forward. Kelly’s hand on my back helped to keep me in place.
“Balance,” she said.
I positioned myself better and guided the horses forward. The other chariots charged ahead of us, sending plumes of dust in arcs behind the wooden wheels. The floor of the chariot was made of leather straps, which gave us a bouncy ride, but it was probably more stable than a wood floor. The sound of the wooden wheels crunching on the gravel drowned out all other noise.
We fell into last place right from the start, but I kept us as close as I could. Kelly watched the other archers, and as they fired arrows at their targets, she followed suit as we approached. When she let the first arrow fly, it sailed over the target.
“Shit,” she said.
In spite of the bouncy ride and having to adjust to an unfamiliar bow, when we came upon the second target, she fired and the arrow struck the wood just to the left of the rings. From that point on, she hit every target she aimed at, so I was doubly impressed. The arrows weren’t dead center, but at least she didn’t miss. If she’d had a week to practice, I’m willing to bet she could have been one of the best archers in their army.
It was hard to breathe with all the dust and pebbles flying back at us. I squinted to try to keep my eyes clear as I guided the horses over to where we’d be out of the dust plumes. Once I could breathe again, I gave my best yells, snapped the reins, and got the horses to go faster.
We bounced along in last place, but we started to gain some ground.
Kelly kept firing arrows and striking the targets.
We rounded a corner, and the maneuverability of the chariots impressed me. I thought we were going too fast and that we’d crash for sure, but even though one wheel left the ground, it dropped back to the gravel and we righted ourselves.
King Tut held the lead position the entire race. I wasn’t sure if people knew better than to beat the pharaoh or if his driver was simply the best. As we took the final corner and roared toward the finish, I cracked the reins, and we shot past one of the chariots. At least we wouldn’t be last. Kelly shot another target as we passed another chariot. I felt I was getting the hang of it. We surged past the next chariot, and there were only two more ahead of us.
“I’m gonna try to cut around the next guy!” I shouted to Kelly.
“Go for it.”
I guided the horses to go around the next chariot, and Kelly hit another target with ease. We were closing in on them.
I cracked the reins again, and the horses charged alongside the second-place chariot. The archer glanced over at me for a moment before firing an arrow into a target. Kelly shot her arrow at the same time. Both arrows hit the target, but the experienced archer’s was closer to the center. He glanced back at me as his driver tried to urge his horses to go faster. Their chariot pulled ahead of us.
They weren’t too far behind King Tut, but with the end in sight, there was no way any of us could catch up to him. I was just glad we weren’t in last place.
I saw a spear fly out a second-floor window.
“Look out!” Kelly yelled.
The spear slammed into the spokes of Tut’s chariot, and time seemed to slow down as the vehicle flipped up, wood cracking.
The horses stumbled. The chariot ahead of us tried an evasive maneuver, but that put it in our path. I tried to swerve, but we smashed into them with a loud crash, shattering the right wheel. Our chariots locked up, and we couldn’t pull apart. That sent us racing right at Tut’s overturned chariot, and we couldn’t steer clear.
The crash echoed through the valley as we slammed into Tut’s chariot. The driver in the other chariot let go of the reins as he flew from the vehicle.
I didn’t see what happened to Tut because at that point, I felt myself go airborne. I thought,
I’m flying now,
but then I saw the ground coming up, and time cranked back to normal speed. I tried to tuck and roll, but I still hit the ground hard. As soon as I hit, I made sure I rolled to spread the impact out as much as possible.
Good thing too because our chariot crashed down right where I’d been. It splintered in an awful cacophony. The landing drove the wind from my lungs. I slid to a stop and couldn’t move or breathe. Dust flew every which way. I closed my eyes and tried to focus.
Everything hurt.
I heard people yelling and horses whinnying.
“Are you all right?”
I recognized Kelly’s voice. I felt her hand on my arm.
I opened my eyes and finally pulled air into my lungs. That set off a coughing fit. I groaned as I sat up.
“Talk to me,” Kelly said. “Is anything broken?”
I considered the pain. “I don’t think so,” I said. “Just bumps and bruises. You okay?”
“I’m alive,” she said.
“What about the others? Is Tut all right?” I tried to look around. Moving my head sent shards of pain through my neck and down my back, but it wasn’t incapacitating.
The other charioteers steered around the fallen chariots and skidded to a stop in clouds of smoke. I saw Tut lying on the road. He wasn’t moving.
“I’ll check on him,” Kelly said.
She rose and limped over to the fallen pharaoh. As soon as I managed to get to my feet, I followed her. I found myself limping too. My right knee felt like someone jammed a knife into it, but with each step, I felt a little better. Still, I knew the next day was going to be a bitch.
The other charioteers and archers crowded around the fallen Tut and the Nubian driver. Tut’s left side had been scraped up something fierce, while his left leg was severely broken just above the knee, and his kneecap was completely torn off. After what felt like an eternity, he twitched and tried to sit up, but then he gripped his leg and rocked back and forth, blood pouring from between his fingers. He clenched his teeth, but he did not cry out. I didn’t know if it was because he was tough or because it hurt so much, he couldn’t yell. Chaos reigned. More people rushed over. Horemheb was among them.
“Everybody, get back!” the general yelled.
Two of the magicians who’d attacked me pushed through the crowd to attend to the king. Someone shoved me back, and a few minutes later, Kelly moved through the crowd to get to me.
“How bad is it?” I asked.
“He has a broken leg and took a good hit to the head when he landed. He seems dazed and he’s in pain. The magicians are working on him.”
“It was an assassination attempt,” I said.
“Second floor,” Kelly said, glancing toward a building across the way. “But why would anyone want to kill him?”
“Because he’s the king.”
“The people here all seem to love him, though.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, and the world is full of sunshine and puppy dogs.”
BRAND EASTON
Brand slid the door open and exited the carriage with Esther in tow. They crossed the walkway to the next car, but Brand stopped and took a moment to appreciate the undulating green hills of the countryside. He figured most of this was buried under concrete and steel in his time, but here it was breathtakingly beautiful land. The grass and trees seemed greener; the sky, bluer. The air probably smelled fresher too but not around the train. The smell of burning coal put a damper on an otherwise gorgeous day.
He entered the next car to find people already seated for breakfast. The dining car held four tables. Three were occupied so he approached the empty table and sat down. Esther sighed. “I wonder how Jonathan is doing,” she said.
“No telling.”
“I wish I could have gone with them.”
Brand started to reply, but a waiter approached his table.
“I’m terribly sorry, sir, but this table is reserved for Miss Scarlet.”
“Are we playing a game of Clue?” Brand asked. “If so, I’m Colonel Mustard.”
“I beg your pardon, sir?”
“Who is Colonel Mustard?” Esther asked. “Should I be Queen Ketchup?”
Brand laughed, realizing the board game with Miss Scarlet and Colonel Mustard wouldn’t hit the market for around seventy years. “Never mind.”
“Yes, well, I do apologize, sir, but you can’t sit here.”
An elderly woman in a gray dress entered the dining car and approached the table. “It’s all right,” she said as she took a seat. “I don’t mind company for breakfast.”
“As you wish, Miss Scarlet.”
“Bring us some coffee,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The waiter moved off.
Esther stood behind Brand, staring at the old woman. “She must be rich,” Esther said. “She gets her own table, and look at those rings on her fingers. They look like solid gold.”
Brand gave Miss Scarlet a smile and ignored Esther. “Thanks for letting me join you. My name is Brand.”
“I’m Priscilla. I reserved the table so I’d have a place to eat each morning, afternoon, and evening, and if you keep that smile on your face, I’ll certainly allow you to dine with me whenever you please. You’re a handsome, if rugged, man.”
“I think she wants you,” Esther said.
“Thank you,” Brand said, pleased that his remark could apply to both Priscilla and Esther.
Priscilla glanced to the right and shook her head.
Brand looked over to see what she was looking at, but he didn’t see anything. “Something wrong?” he asked.
She glared off to the side then put on a happier face to look at Brand. “No, not at all. I’ve been alone so long, I’m not used to having company.”