Ahkmenrah: The Fourth King of the Fourth Kings

Chapter 18: The Storm Has come

Sorry for the wait. But I had such an amazing day as it was my birthday. I am offickally...hmm actually old do you think I've turned?

Thankyou all for 3k love you!

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Khufu sauntered through the palace halls finally his plans were coming into place bit by bit. He will be the winner. Though he wondered how he could make the family's life a living hell. He finally passed his dead nephew's bedchamber. He peered inside. No one was about.

Of course Shepseheret wouldn't be here, she was getting ready for the funeral procession this afternoon, besides she wouldn't be able to sleep in the same bed she once slept with her husband in. Beautiful Shepseheret. He would spare her all this misery and make her his queen, even if she was several years younger than he was.

Out of pure spite he decided to search the room. He looked through their garments and jewels. Taking one or two for himself. He searched the places, which he thought would be good for hiding. He found nothing of interest, as in he couldn't find the tablet. His interest was lost was until he hit his head on the wall. Something fell out between the niche of the two bricks.

He rubbed his head furiously. Slowly his eyes focused and he saw that two Scarab rings of the heir enveloping a piece of parchment had landed on top of the bed sheets. He took out the parchment and unrolled it holding the rings in his hand. He read it with passionate delight.

Ahkmenrah and Kahmunrah the Fourth Kings of the Fourth Kings it read.

It was perfect. He knew exactly how to torment them now. After he had memorized the words and the handwriting he took out another parchment and replicated the words and the handwriting, omitting one name.

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Ahkmenrah felt as if somehow he stumbled through a glass, shattered it and fallen in a void of depression. He wandering through this void letting it dark tendrils envelop him, as salty tears would roll down his cheeks. He would get up then sit down, forgetting the very reason why he got up, never smiling. He would break down from time to time, frozen in a state of cold darkness.

Kahmunrah was in no better state. Tears stained his face as he paced about, not speaking never smiling. He had even fallen ill at one point because of his sadness. His mother and Seknut had tended to him. Surprisingly to the two brothers their mother was the only one who actually was strong about this whole situation.

At least we have each other though Kahmunrah. But who knows how long this will last. But he was getting stronger quickly in the end he acted just as strong as his mother. Mind you it was only an act.

On the day of the funeral they wore white. The custom of Egypt was to wear simple white clothing at a funeral. The whole of Egypt looked as if it were shrouded in veil of ever so rare snow.

As Ahkmenrah walked out of the room Kahmunrah put a hand on his shoulder. He tried to act strong for his brother's sake and for the sake of his country. A king must not give his feelings as much significance as his people. His feelings should be almost insignificant, a speck of sand compared to the large Sinai desert of the people. Ruling his country became his aim. He saw nothing but that now, just like when he could see nothing but the eye of the crocodile. Everything else fell apart except for his aim in ruling in his people.

"Are you ready?" Kahmunrah questioned sadness clear in his tone.

"No" mumbled Ahkmenrah. "We're left to our own devices, without father. It's as if..." he couldn't find the words to explain.