The Second Prince

My hopes rise and fall with every chock of water colliding with the bow of the ship. I stand, watching the landmass grow steadily closer as we approach. I have spent the last few weeks of travel considering what position I will need to take, what face I will need to wear, once I arrive. Will they expect a second Prince? A tactician, a fool?

I wish Father's summons had given me more information but -having none- I will try to follow his cues, hoping that I can still read them after eight seasons of his absence.
The burden of war must weigh heavy on him that he calls for me.

It is a danger to have both heirs on the battlegrounds at once. Especially now that my brother, General Oram -along with his two commanders and three guards- have been captured during a battle, when my brother's rash decision to give chase to the enemy led them into a trap.

  The Hyksos killed everyone without the Royal crest and are keeping the rest alive only as a ransom. I worry that something irreversible has happened that I am unaware of. What is my father not telling me, why didn't he include any of our code phrases, what am I missing?

My father, Ahmose, is a kind and forgiving Pharaoh. He knows how and where to draw the lines and last I heard, had begun negotiations with the Hyksos. Was this why he had called me? or for something else. My thoughts swirl like the pattern of a seashell, drawing ever tighter and tighter in my chest.

Eyes on the shore, I turn pieces of information over in my head, trying to find the way they all fit together. My father summoning me. The negotiations. My brother's life on the line. Our enemies, the Hyksos and their well known battle fever. Over and over they turn.

As the dusty shore gets close enough to distinguish the dock, I settle myself.

I don a mask like still water, deciding to play into the most likely reason. I establish the only certain facts in my mind.
I am the second Prince. I have come at my fathers bidding to help with negotiations. Both for a peace treaty and for my brother's life.

Yes. This will work until I can speak to the pharaoh. I think, so I elaborate and explore what facts I can make of this mask.

  My father's council would be against this, thinking that I will not fight for my elder brother since his death will mean my rise to pharaoh when my father dies.

  I would never actually want that, as it would mean I must produce heirs, and I will not, but his council would not know my refusal of this.
Though I have a fiancé named Eris and I love them, she is aware of this refusal, and feels the same.

They have come with me and are still below deck preparing as I ponder my duty, staring at the thousands of tents set up in the distance.

  I can see my father's flag, set high above his tent with a golden pole.
  My brother's stone pole bears no flag. 

  The ship docks and, though there is a crowd coming to help unload and greet us for news of home, I ignore them, jumping deftly to the shore and heading directly to my father's flag.

I know he will be there, debating tactics with his war council. Behind me, I hear the captain of the ship and my fiancée speaking to those who came to assist the unloading and I know I've left it in perfectly good hands.

They know I am too anxious to speak with the peoples when I've had nothing to do but think over the situation here. I want updated information as soon as I can get it. The sooner I make a plan, the sooner my life can go back to the shadows.

The second son, not needed in the political spotlight. My father knows the danger he's placed me in, calling me here. Especially if it's in my real work's capacity. But he also knew I would come.
 
Trained not to show emotions, my father is the only one who can read my tentative approach as I am given access to his tent. He smiles in greeting and apology both as I bow in the custom way, placing myself lower than my father, and slightly lower than necessary to show my respect.