Gods and Queens

Chapter Twenty

"Sometimes, it's like the shadow from that night is coming to get me. I feel as if it watches me, hoping to catch me off guard and kill me," Re'hotpe shivered as flashes of a nightmare he had the previous night assaulted his mind. Fear was now a constant companion, it was fused to him like a second head that whispered horrible possibilities. He couldn't get himself to relax.

"Why would you think that?" The hot desert wind blew against Michal's shawl and whipped her dark hair across her face when she glanced at him.

The multitude had stopped to rest for a while because they had been walking since the night before. The long shadow of the pillar of cloud protected them from the fierce heat of the sun. Re'hotpe recalled he nearly pissed himself when the cloud first appeared. The thick dark mass seemed to have poured from the sky in slow swirls, it was both fascinating and terrifying to watch.

"I don't know...it's just something I feel. I think the shadow wants me." Re'hotpe swept a hand over his shaven head and dragged his tunic forward. It was a reflex action he had developed in an attempt to further hide his tattoo. He knew his tunic covered it well, but one couldn't be too careful. He turned away and focused on Japheth. He was playing with some children about their age, a luxury Re'hotpe could never enjoy.

"Don't think like that,"—Michal sighed heavily and scooted closer to his side—"you made it this far. I believe if the Holy One wanted you dead, you would have been long gone."

"But what type of life would I live among those who see me as the enemy? What if they find out who I am?" Re'hotpe whispered, worry heavy in his voice. Why couldn't he just relax as Michal and Japheth urged him to? Maybe it was the suspicious glances he kept getting. To say the truth, Re'hotpe didn't know if the glances were suspicious or if his paranoid mind made him think so.

"Listen to me. 'Son of Pharaoh' is not tattooed on your forehead. They don't know who you are. Their world doesn't revolve around you, Re'hotpe. They are not focused on you, look, they are minding their lives." Michal rested her small hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly.

"I keep having this dream where a shadow comes after me and it surrounds me. I see my father chasing me with a long whip and my mother being dragged by his chariot. What if he comes after us? What if –"

Michal hugged him to her side. "Shhhhh. He wouldn't come after us. No sane man would after what happened in Egypt."

Re'hotpe would have believed her words if he didn't know who his father was. He couldn't shake off the feeling of being a marked target.

He looked at the pillar of cloud and gulped. What if it was the God of the Israelites that sought to kill him? He shook his head before pulling his tunic forward again. He knew he shouldn't be scared of the pillar of cloud, at least not as much as the pillar of fire that appeared at night.

There it was again, fear adding to the already long list of things he had to be terrified of.

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Yes, Thutmose. Don't stop.

Thutmose was trapped in his mind as the hypnotic voice urged him to keep strangulating Addisu. The voice was so hard to resist... so compelling. He obeyed, squeezing his wife's neck mercilessly and grinned all the while. He was deriving beautiful pleasure from the pain he caused her.

Yes, any moment now and she would be gone. The voice hissed.

Gone?

Thutmose didn't want her gone, he wanted her alive to suffer. He wanted—no, needed her to see him take Re'hotpe and turn him into her worst fear. He would make their son exactly like him, a worthy heir to continue his legacy.