The Crow and The Cat

Chapter 9

A blonde with golden, honey eye's and a dark complexion sat under the shade of an extremely large papyrus plant as he began to doodle. The small rock in his small, delicate hand traced lines in the wet soil near Nile and he smiled. His picture began as a few lines, then began to transform itself into a papyrus on a riverbank, a papyrus on a riverbank with large triangles behind it. The pyramids. It was a simple picture, small and merely a doodle, but that didn't stop the skinny boy from smiling at his work. It was his best one yet.

"You there, boy. Why are you not out working in the fields?"

Jono looked up. There was a large, burly man to the side of him.

"I am very sorry sir, but I am not allowed in the fields."

He lifted his small and woman like hands to point at his left shoulder. The man shook his head, not seeing the mark there.

"It matters not, you will work."

Jono was pulled to his feet and lead to the nearest field, where he was dropped quite roughly into the mud.

"Sir, I would not mind at all to work, but I am not allowed."

Jono would not touch the crops.

"I said you shall work, and you shall work. Do as I say or suffer the price."

Jono simply hung his head, his golden locks covering his face. Why would this man not listen to what he was saying? He could not work like this, his master had commanded him not to, and he would not break his masters command. He was a loyal servant, he did as his master instructed. Most of the time. A large, work beaten hand came into contact with the side of his face and sent him sprawling. Back before he had become a slave, Jono would have already beaten this man down and continued on with the work he had been given, but his master had told him if he ever fought again he would be sold. Jono did not want that, so he remained on the ground, blood seeping from his mouth. That had been a hard hit, and as much as he hated it, he was much more fragile than most boys his age. That was why he was sold as a slave as soon as he could speak. He hadn't been given a chance, until he escaped and lived on his own for many years. He did any job, short of selling himself, to eat. He slept in the dirt and fought with almost anyone until he had fallen sick and was captured by those who had bought him before he ran. They left him in his cage for all to see, dirty, beaten and sick until his master had come along and took him. He still remembered the first time he had seen the man; he was tall, so tall that from where Jono lay he could not see his face framed by the bight rays of Ra's own light. He had spoken to the man who owned the stand, pointing to the blonde several times before returning.

"What is your name?"

Jono was so tired and dry, he had no water for many days and his throat was to dry to speak so he thrust his hand through the bars and wrote the characters he had learned made his name. Not many slaves new how to write, but the man only waited. Once he was finished, the man looked at him and smiled.

"Jono. It is a very fitting name. I am Set, Priest of Ra and his son Atemnanken the great Pharaoh, I shall be your new master."

Jono had been so relived when the door had been open that he desperately crawled out, before falling over in exhaustion.

When he had woken, he lay in a bedchamber decorated in the colors of royalty. He sat up quickly and a voice greeted him;

"Be calm and lay back down, Jono. I wish you no harm."

Jono looked over to the man speaking, and found it was the one who had saved him. His hair was a dark shade of brown and hung all around his face in a lazy way, and his eyes were such a deep blue, like that of the sacred Nile herself, the savior of the great kingdom of Egypt, this man was his own savior. Jono laid down, now eager to please this man who had gone out of his way to save him, a lowly slave, and a weak one at that. Thus began the life of Priest Set's slave, Jono. He was taught to wash and take care of his masters clothes and bedsheets, as well as his masters body. What oils to use where and when, when to use the smelling salts and scented petals for his bath, when and when not to speak, many things. Of course, Jono had other feelings for his master, ones did not understand and kept to himself as he continued his duties... Another blow to the head halted these thoughts as he rolled over a few times. It was alright, his master didn't need someone like him. He could die here and no one would care...