With the chariot's yoke on his shoulder, its weight almost as heavy as his burden of guilt, Ahmen turned to look one final time at the mound of rocks covering Haran's broken body. It wasn't until he had placed the last rock over the makeshift grave that his realization came, swift and brutal. Haran was Sekhmet's price. Just as Meresamun had predicted, the goddess had meted her punishment. An innocent had suffered and paid for their crime. Guilt beat down on him in sickening waves. He welcomed his suffering, prodded it even, forcing himself to relive Haran's final moments.

Above, twilight stars breached the sky's dusky canopy, their twinkling light beautiful, deceptive. He glared at them, all knew the stars were where the gods lived. Where they looked down upon the doings of men, judging them. Punishing them.

Ignoring Ahmen, Ramesses walked ahead leading Kerkhem, who limped, stoic despite the ragged claw marks in his flanks. Ahmen followed him for almost an hour, the silence between them taut, stretching out, claustrophobic despite the vast open space surrounding them. Just as Ahmen had begun to resign himself to Ramesses's hostility, the pharaoh halted, abrupt. He turned, his face black with suppressed rage.

"I know what passed between you and Meresamun last night," he seethed as he bore down on Ahmen. "How dare you take what belongs to the goddess."

Clarity came. So this was why Ramesses had taken him alone on the hunt. Ahmen was to be a casualty. He dropped to his knee. "Once you granted her freedom," he babbled, hating himself for bleating like a coward, "Meresamun no longer wished to remain a priestess. Temple law--"

"Of which, it seems, you know very little," Ramesses interrupted, severe.

Dread clawed at Ahmen as fear for Meresamun bolted past his own trepidation. He waited, desperate for Ramesses to continue. The silence dragged out, thick with tension. Ramesses exhaled, slow, his gaze moving over the dry dunes of the desert.

"You saved my life from a Libyan blade," he said, finally. "I consider my debt paid. Meresamun is waiting for you at your villa, safe from the law you believed would protect her. Had I not intervened, she would have been found guilty of impurity, maimed, and sold into a life of the meanest slavery where even I could not have helped her."

Ahmen sagged. He had utterly failed Meresamun. Without Ramesses's intervention, she would already be mutilated. Shame bore down on him, unbearable.

"And now, Sekhmet has taken Haran as her price," Ramesses continued, relentless, his gaze moving to Bekhen. "Have you not asked yourself why the lion did not kill Haran first before feeding as all lions do? It was unnatural. The mind of the goddess was upon that animal. None of us have been spared from her wrath today, not even Kerkhem. He will never pull my chariot again. But Haran--a gift from the King of Amurru--Haran was my greatest hope for breeding a royal line of horses, lasting longer than my reign. I have never before seen such a creature as perfect or as well made as him, nor do I expect to again. Sekhmet chose her price well."

Ahmen stared at the ground beneath his filthy kilt. There was only one honorable choice for him. He pulled his dagger from its scabbard and held it up with both hands, hilt forward. "Great Pharaoh, by my selfish and dishonorable actions I have made myself unworthy of you and of Egypt. I await your command."

Ramesses said nothing. In the distance, a hyena howled. Time stretched, slow. Ahmen's arms began to ache. Kerkhem whickered and shook his head, the metallic rattling of his bridle mundane, ordinary.

"No. I will not command you to end your life," Ramesses finally muttered, pushing the dagger down. "It is a better punishment for you to continue to live and take responsibility for your actions. Carry the memory of this day with you for the rest of your life. Never forget what Haran suffered for your crime. I have said what needed to be said. Put your dagger away and let us walk to Waset in peace."

His hands shaking, Ahmen sheathed his dagger. He had been certain he would join Haran. He bent down to pick up the chariot's shaft.

"Ahmen, wait."

He turned. Ramesses looked down and rubbed his thumb and forefinger along Kerkhem's rein. "I would speak to you as a brother--just for this one brief space of time."

"Your Majesty--"

"No," Ramesses held up his hand. "I am guilty too. I cannot lay all the blame on you. I wished to take Meresamun to my bed. I used my power to prevent her inspection and, because of her I cursed the gods."

Ahmen stared at Ramesses. The pharaoh had cursed the gods? Had he lost his mind?

"Though I envy you," Ramesses continued, a taint of bitterness tingeing his words, "I honor Meresamun's choice."

Ahmen shook his head, disbelieving. It was all too much, too fast. Ramesses looked at him, waiting for him to respond. Ahmen raised his fist to his chest. "I will honor her always. There will be no other but her. If she goes to the gods before me, I swear to live the rest of my days alone." He met Ramesses's gaze. "My lord, I will never fail you again."

Ramesses's face hardened. "No. You won't."

His demeanor becoming distant once more, the pharaoh turned and led Kerkhem into the glittering white sands of the desert, sparkling in the light of the full moon.

A long time passed before Ahmen picked up the chariot, and followed them home.