to call a new place home

He had cried all he could. But even while he still mourned the loss of his mother, he knew he could not step away from his role as fellahin. He'd promised to not disappoint his Pharaoh. He could not disappoint another.

Leading @Tahrosek further into the oasis, he approached Pharaoh (@Toula) and Semer-wati (@Rashepses).

Bowing, he awaited permission before speaking, then rose. “Divine ones — Tahrosek has come here; followed me from our former homelands. He has decided that he would like to remain and become one with Akashingo, as I have. If you will allow him.” Tahrosek had told him of the semer-wati's to join as mazoi. But still there may be the chance they deny him.

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 Rashepses released the fellahin from his kneel with a wafting paw. His attentions were only upon Tahrosek.

 “Is it your wish to join Pharaoh's mazoi?” The king asked, eyes dropping over the tightly muscled form in admiration. He knew his wife would also take heed to the man’s strength— as well as the apparent devotion to the servant, which Semer-wati disregarded. In time the man would be sculpted in divine devotion. He would learn who his true Gods were; with whom his true loyalties lie.

 
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Inching forward but only a step, he lowered his chin, eyes downcast. This was the way.

“It is.” Came his answer, true and firm.

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 Rashepses surveyed the man with a knowing eye and open judgement. His appraisal was already high, and he thought then Tahrosek might accompany their young prince on his expedition to the Key.

 “Rise now as Tahrosek, mazoi in the royal army of Pharaoh. You will be trained by my kingsguard, @Mesen-ka. The medjay will inform you of how best to perform your duties within Akashingo."

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Acceptance. He blew out the breath, his prior worry carried away with it.

“I am yours to command, semer-wati.” As he'd been told to call him. “And of the pharoah, as well.”

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 Rashepses raised his maw, eyes glinting in clear favor of the soldier. “Khusobek. Mesen-ka. Safiya. Taliba. Ibrahim. Know these names, they are your fellow guard,” the king explained, “and Tahrosek, once our palace is raised, under no circumstances are you to enter the chambers of my wife or that of my daughters unattended.”

 He trusted very few with Toula, believing even a man with singularly courser tastes would be drawn in by her rare loveliness.

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Each name given was quickly stowed away to memory. Soon, faces would be placed along with them.

He'd wanted to laugh in disbelief when he was given the absurd order to never walk in upon one of the royal women, as if it weren't already obvious. But he held himself back, not a breath spared other than the words he spoke. “I would never dare.” And truly, he wouldn't. Any man of his stature would surely have his head for it. Even this one, though he did not yet know his nature.

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 Gold ground against gold. At present, the king was satisfied with the strongman’s answers. He would do fine work for the royal family.

 “Fellahin,” Rashepses addressed the coy-man, for he could not remember the name of this one, “prepare some palms for our newest mazoi’s bedding. See that he has what he needs.” Then the eyes glinted, pleased, once more, “welcome, Tahrosek.”

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He fought to refrain himself from turning back to glance at Sobek when he'd been mentioned, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the semer-wati.

“Your welcoming is greatly appreciated, lord. I will not forgive your grace.”

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When addressed, his head dipped low.

“I will see it done.”

And then when nothing further was spoken to him, he excused himself to complete the task at hand.

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