In the aftermath of nine devastating plagues that ravaged ancient Egypt, a high priestess desperately seeks to prevent the impending tenth plague. Still, her efforts fail, leaving her at the mercy of an enraged pharaoh. Meanwhile, the pharaoh's son...
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"Keep moving, boys. Don't make me come down," Michal 'warned in a tired voice. She had developed a fever the night before, and now, she had to use Re'hotpe's horse. She was seated sideways on the saddle with a hand holding her shawl in place and another gripping Black's rein.
The collective voices of the multitude marched with the whooshing sound of the parted sea ahead. Re'hotpe blinked hard, still finding it impossible to believe or understand the wondrous sight. And his father...
Re'hotpe glanced behind him but Japheth tugged at his arm, forcing him to quicken his steps.
"He is after me, I can feel it," Re'hotpe said loud enough for only Japheth to hear. He shifted out of the way as a man drove a herd of sheep past them, the dense smell of the animals stuffing up his nose and causing him to cough.
"He is after us all, Re'hotpe. Have you forgotten what the scout said? He came with an army. Why would he need an army if he came for only you?" Japheth shook his head as if Re'hotpe was crazy to think the way he did.
"I know my father. He must have learned of my escape as well. Perhaps I should stop and wait." Re'hotpe clutched the strap of his satchel as he looked around. Since their time at the stream, the feeling of being watched haunted him. He swore not to share the little information with Japheth. They already had enough worry concealing his origin.
"Look ahead of you, Re'hotpe. Look!" Japheth waved at the body of water that stood divided before them. "Have you seen a puddle divide in your life? If I were you, I would be more worried about the Egyptians perishing," Japheth added with a nonchalant huff.
Re'hotpe nodded. "Y-you're right. I guess I'm being too pessimistic."
"You guess?" Japheth scoffed. "It's who you are, pessimistic old man. Now, let's walk faster. I wonder what would happen if I stuck my hand through that wall of water."
They quickened their steps, leaving Michal behind. As they drew closer to the bank of the sea, cool mist sprayed Re'hotpe's face.
"Can you feel that?" Japheth laughed as he touched his face. "It's like dew."
Re'hotpe chuckled when Japheth stuck his tongue out. He turned to check on Michal. She was catching up. Her complexion was dull and her eyes were red-rimmed. Re'hotpe worried for her, a lot. She kept assuring them she was fine, but that did nothing to stifle his apprehension. The thought of anything bad happening to her lit raw panic in his heart. Sighing, he faced ahead once more.
They were at the rear of the crowd, a reality Re'hotpe was increasingly beginning to loathe. If the Egyptians were to suddenly come upon them, they would be the first to be struck down. Knowing his father, he would probably kill a few to instil fear and force submission. He shuddered at the gruesome image his mind painted.
The closer they drew to the sea, the harder Re'hotpe's heart slammed against his chest.
He is coming for you. He will kill you like he probably killed your mother.
