SWORD MAIDEN OF SEKHMET

Chapter 19: Reseph

Seb trotted ahead of her, calling back over his shoulder:

"I must run, or I'll be late. You'll find us on the far side of the main square."

He ran off, weaving his way between the visitors. She followed slowly, still taking in the busy life of the temple, as much like a village as a place of worship.

She felt uneasy: how was she to live here - and for how long? Weeks? Months? She refused even to acknowledge the possibility that it might be years. Nothing had been said and she had no idea when - or how - she might receive word. And how was she to pass the time? Her body, so used to continuous exercise, was not used to inactivity.

It wasn't hard to find the training area since other visitors had also stopped to watch. There were two groups, one older, one younger. The older group was composed mainly of young men from around Ashayt's age upwards. The younger group were all boys, mostly around Seb's age.

Ashayt paused for a moment to watch the older group. They were good. Under the directions of a Senior they were exercising with the spear, repeating a series of ritual moves, shifting from attack to defence and back again, all in perfect time. Ashayt thought how beautiful they looked, with their sun-brown bodies and white kilts.

She moved on to the younger group.

There were ten or so novice-boys under the watchful eye of a much older priest. He must have been approaching his fiftieth year, but his body was lean and well-muscled and he stood straight.

And he was still fast: as Ashayt watched, she saw him parry the thrust from one of the older boys with his practice-spear, step lightly back, lunge, draw back again, then sweep it at the boy's legs, forcing him to jump.

She soon spotted Seb and was both surprised and delighted to see that he held a wooden Khopesh, similar to the ones she was used to, but a little shorter. That, and a small round shield.

But he was not doing well.

He was facing off against a boy of about the same height who was driving him steadily back with a flurry of blows. Ashayt longed to call out to him, since he obviously lacked the skill to turn the other's attack to his own advantage and just stood in the way desperately trying to block. And his shield was more of a hindrance than an aid, since he plainly had no idea how to use it.

Her heart went out to him as his sword was finally knocked from his hand and he fell to the ground. As he got up, he saw her watching and immediately hung his head and turned away.

Soon after, the old priest dismissed the boys and they ran off to their next duties. As Ashayt also turned to go, the priest walked over to her.

"Greetings, My Lady," he said, smiling and briefly bowing his head. "I understand you are our guest for a time - so welcome."

Ashayt also bowed her head, showing the respect that was due both to his status as a priest and his age.

"My name is Reseph," he continued, "and - as you saw - it's my job to try and teach these scoundrels how to fight. An uphill battle, so to speak."

Ashayt laughed.

"I have a brother much the same age as some of them," she said, "so I appreciate your difficulties."

"He is with your parents then?" he said.

Ashayt was immediately reminded of her story and the need for her identity to remain unknown.

"Yes," she said quickly, "I made the journey only last year, so this year I was spared and he went in my place."

As she spoke, she felt the older man looking keenly at her, taking in the visible muscle on her arms and legs, harder than might be expected on a girl who was plainly no field-worker. She had the feeling that his pale blue eyes missed very little.

"I am thinking that My Lady is no stranger to exercise?" Reseph said.

Ashayt thought quickly.

"You are very observant," she said with a smile, "My Father is a great believer in the value of gymnastics. I was the first-born, so he saw no reason why a girl should be spared."

The old priest laughed. He looked over her shoulder.

"Ah, here comes our Guardian-of-The-Sanctuary."

Ashayt turned to see Bekenamen walking towards them. Reseph bowed and Ashayt - surprised by the mood that suddenly took her - nodded curtly.

Bekenamen bowed.

"I must apologise for being so late to welcome you to the day," he said. "My duties are many and they start early."

"I am sure there are many people who require your attention..." she said.

Some more than others, she thought.

"...and I would not want to keep you from your...good works," she added, a little shocked at how imperious she sounded.

The Guardian appeared not to have noticed.

"I have assigned Seb to take care of you. He is a good boy, but let me know if he fails in any duties and I shall have him beaten."

"I'm sure that won't be necessary," she said stiffly, "He has been perfect so far."

Bekenamen smiled and Ashayt, despite her mood, found it hard not to respond to his warmth, or to ignore the way the fine lines at the corners of his green-gold eyes crinkled as he did so.

"I have business in the City today which will take me until tomorrow," he continued. "But on my return, perhaps I can show you more of our life here?"

"I would like that," said Ashayt.

And meant it.

©Adriana Nicolas 2016