Ramesses, Crown Prince of Egypt, eyed the barred doors to the sanctuary of Kadesh's goddess, uneasy. It was a crime, what he was about to do. His father had commanded him to take the temple's gold, the only price Kadesh would be forced to pay for standing against Pharaoh Seti. But instead of keeping their gold in a temple storeroom, like sensible people, the Kadeshites had secreted their wealth into the sanctuary of their deity. Ramesses cursed, certain his sacrilege would return to haunt him one day.

He breathed a prayer to Horus for protection and lifted the carved beam away. With a soft groan, the doors opened. A thick haze of opium incense surrounded him, making his eyes water. Cautious, he stepped over the threshold and breached the sacred residence of the goddess. Nothing happened. He felt foolish. Of course he would not be struck down. These provincial gods were not powerful. Not like Egypt's gods.

No more than twenty paces distant, the goddess stood alone, with enough gold and gems piled around her to cover the costs of their entire campaign. He hesitated, even with the doors open, the pillared edges to either side remained cloaked in shadow. His hand moved to the hilt of his dagger. He could hear someone breathing, ragged. He called out to his second-in-command.

"Captain Sethi. Torches."

They found a child, similar to the one he had seen throwing rocks from the palace roof a week ago. No more than seven or eight years old, she wore a shabby temple robe over her bare-footed, emaciated body. Under the effect of the opium, she stood, quiet, her eyes sliding, unseeing over his men. In Sethi's gentle grip, she staggered, struggling to stay on her feet. His captain cleared his throat.

"Should we bring her with us?"

"No," Ramesses answered, terse. "They closed her in here, drugging her with the opium for a reason. My father asked me to bring him the goddess's gold, nothing more. For all we know, the child is intended for sacrifice."

Sethi's eyes darkened at the suggestion. His grip tightened on her shoulders, protective. "My lord, we cannot leave her to die," he said as he glanced down at her, his expression softening. "She is just a little girl."

"She stays," Ramesses said, gesturing toward the pillared shadows, impatient. "Put her back where you found her."

Sethi hesitated. Irritated, Ramesses grabbed the waif's arm. "It is my command." He pulled the girl to him. "Release her."

Taller, older, and stronger by far, his captain resisted for as long as he dared. "My lord," Sethi murmured, "I beg you. Be merciful."

Ramesses considered the girl, reviving in the freshening air. She was a pretty thing, beautiful even, for a child. Her black hair, tumbling in thick waves down to her shoulders framed her heart shaped face. A worthy sacrifice to a god. She gazed up at them, calm. Her dark eyes, framed by thick lashes, moved from him to Sethi; back and forth, examining them, her mouth shaping itself into a little, round 'o'. She pointed at Sethi's khopesh, saying something incomprehensible, her small voice sweet and inquisitive.

He caught Sethi watching him, waiting.

"To Ammit with your bleeding heart," Ramesses scoffed. "Why must you save every stray you find? Are you a warrior or a priest?"

"Can a man not strive to have the qualities of both?" Sethi asked.

"Bring her, then," Ramesses sighed, relenting. "If your grasp of Akkadian is sufficient, you may deliver her to their High Priestess, forbidding her against the crime of human sacrifice. Be grateful I am in a generous mood today."

He left the sanctuary and inspected the heaped baskets, ready to be taken to his father. The pharaoh would be pleased. Ramesses began to say something to Sethi, before realising he was alone. He turned. Still within the sanctuary, Sethi knelt before the girl. He offered her a fig from his ration pouch. She took it and devoured it in one bite, like a heathen. Her eyes drifted back to his pouch, looking for more.

Smiling, Sethi found another fig, then offered his biscuit, watching, delighted, as she gobbled up his evening meal, piece by piece; the Crown Prince of Egypt's second-in-command, willing to go hungry so a child of no consequence would not.

Putting his back to them, Ramesses suppressed a familiar ripple of envy toward the man who had come out of nowhere, rising to prominence from the gutters of Pi-Ramesses. Of no blood, and without family, Sethi had made a name for himself as a street fighter, whom none could defeat. The pharaoh had tested Sethi against his commanders. Not one of them had been able to take him down. Not even with weapons against Sethi's bare hands.

Sethi accepted the pharaoh's offer of a career in the military. One success followed another, his daring strategies during his first campaign earning him promotions and wealth.

At first, Ramesses had resented Sethi, but as time passed, he found himself growing to like him. Charismatic, honorable and clear headed, Sethi was by far the best soldier Ramesses had ever fought alongside. And, wherever Sethi went, there was never a shortage of willing women. Together with Ahmen, Ramesses's oldest friend, they frequented the whorehouses, breaking hearts in every city. It was a good life.

Still, it was at times like this Ramesses couldn't escape the feeling of his own lack. Maybe it was because Sethi was three years older than him. He did have more experience. He was better in combat, there was no doubt. But Ramesses wasn't sure that was it. He caught Sethi brushing the hair away from the little girl's eyes, affectionate. Ramesses suppressed his annoyance. They had work to do. He called Sethi to him, impatient.

His captain approached, the girl at his heels, trusting as a lamb. Ramesses endured a fresh stab of envy. With almost no effort, Sethi drew people to him, like moths to a flame. Ramesses wanted that kind of power. He was Crown Prince of Egypt. Sethi was no one. He glared at Sethi as his captain set the little girl onto a ledge at the base of a pillar, before joining the others to help load the goddess's gold onto waiting carts.

Bored, Ramesses looked at the little girl and offered her a smile. She ignored him, edging to one side to look around him, her eyes following Sethi as he worked. Ramesses reached into his pouch and held out a fig, gesturing for her to come and take it. Wary, she slid off her perch and reached out, cautious. He pulled his hand back. She looked up at him, confused. He smiled at her. A faint smile ghosted her lips as she smiled back at him, uncertain.

He caught Sethi watching him, expressionless. Triumphant, he tossed the fig onto the ground. The girl scrambled after it with a little cry. He walked away, satisfied. No one was going to get the better of him, especially not a nobody like Sethi.