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He could see Khema watching him out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned to look at her, she was flitting the fabric of her wrap back and forth for the kittens. Lukos’s attention fell there when the gray kitten practically leaped from his hand, claws out, flinging her little body at the fluttering cloth. She caught it but didn’t manage to hold it, and landed square on her brothers, bouncing backward, and rolling off the edge of the kitten pile. That didn’t stop her from trying again, clambering in between her siblings and shoving them out of the way in order to be the one to bat and claw the toy.
Lukos shook his head at the kitten. “You're going to take that one back to your ship?” Khema asked after a few seconds. He looked sharply at her, surprise etching his features.
“Take her?” he repeated and looked back down at the kitten battling heavily with the cloth. “I didn’t…” he trailed off. It wasn’t a half bad suggestion, it’s just that he hadn’t thought of it. She wouldn’t be the first cat on his ship and she probably wouldn’t be the last. They happened to be between animals, at the moment. Cats were revered by the Egyptians, but they were useful to sailors, whether merchant or pirate. Felines did an invaluable job of keeping rats and mice at bay, as well as chasing other creepy crawlies that happened to come aboard.
He thought about what it would look like, when he returned to the ship without the girl but with a fuzzy gray kitten in his arms. Arktos would gawp, some of the others would stare, but, ultimately, he didn’t think anyone would object to a kitten. Though he was the captain, harmony among his men was of paramount importance and he rarely did things that would upset the morale. After all, a happy crew was a loyal crew and Lukos wasn’t fool enough to think they’d follow him anywhere or do anything he asked them to out of the goodness of their hearts. They did it for the money and because they didn’t have the skills to do anything else.
“Yes,” he said after his brief consideration. “I’ll take her.” His tone was as though Khema had requested it, or suggested it, and he was doing her a favor. She ended up wanting to take the other three, and the mother, if possible. Lukos tilted his head at her and smirked. “What a bleeding heart you have.” It was the only criticism he gave when she asked him to get a crate.
It wasn’t obedience that he was performing so much as complying and it had everything to do with the lack of power struggle between them. If she’d been demanding or haughty, he’d have taught her what he thought of that lightning quick. Instead, she’d been polite and more than tolerable thus far, proving herself worth being treated as though she was a person, instead of chattel or worse. He did not take kindly to being debased. The brand on his back might have marked him a slave but he was no one’s property and the second someone attempted to make him feel like he might be, he rose up like a viper.
For Khema, who had somehow walked the line between pleasant and archness, he did as she asked, if only because she was pretty and because he was interested to see where this new little idea of hers was going to take them. He liked when people were interesting and she was definitely that. The crates were dusty and as he flipped one over, he found an unhappy spider bouncing in its web at him. Breaking the strands on one side of the spider’s web, he waved his hand at the little beast, frowning as it skittered for cover. Turning the crate over again, he gave it two whacks against the floor. The spider fell and made a mad dash for freedom but Lukos stamped his boot on it instead, crushing the life out of it.
“I hate spiders,” he muttered and then flipped the crate over yet again, to reveal one deep enough that the kittens couldn’t jump out of, but easy enough for him to carry for her to the Souk. “Drop your kittens in and let’s be on our way. My men will think you’ve stolen me,” he laughed at that ludicrous thought. She’d have a mess on her hands if she tried, after all the unusual kindness he’d been showering her with. He watched her with undisguised interest while holding the box for her.
She was lithe and graceful in her movements but her profile gave him pause. “Have we met?” he asked, not remembering if he’d asked her that before or not. The vaguest impression of her features tried to surface through his memories but he couldn’t place her, or where he’d ever have met someone of her calibre. “Have you bought slaves before?” Although she looked full young to be the one brokering deals on slaves, she might have accompanied her father or brother. “I’ve seen you…” The more he thought on it, the surer he became that he’d met her before, but where was the problem. They’d never spoken, that much he knew. This bothered him immensely and he narrowed his eyes as he studied her face, leaning closer than strictly necessary.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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He could see Khema watching him out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned to look at her, she was flitting the fabric of her wrap back and forth for the kittens. Lukos’s attention fell there when the gray kitten practically leaped from his hand, claws out, flinging her little body at the fluttering cloth. She caught it but didn’t manage to hold it, and landed square on her brothers, bouncing backward, and rolling off the edge of the kitten pile. That didn’t stop her from trying again, clambering in between her siblings and shoving them out of the way in order to be the one to bat and claw the toy.
Lukos shook his head at the kitten. “You're going to take that one back to your ship?” Khema asked after a few seconds. He looked sharply at her, surprise etching his features.
“Take her?” he repeated and looked back down at the kitten battling heavily with the cloth. “I didn’t…” he trailed off. It wasn’t a half bad suggestion, it’s just that he hadn’t thought of it. She wouldn’t be the first cat on his ship and she probably wouldn’t be the last. They happened to be between animals, at the moment. Cats were revered by the Egyptians, but they were useful to sailors, whether merchant or pirate. Felines did an invaluable job of keeping rats and mice at bay, as well as chasing other creepy crawlies that happened to come aboard.
He thought about what it would look like, when he returned to the ship without the girl but with a fuzzy gray kitten in his arms. Arktos would gawp, some of the others would stare, but, ultimately, he didn’t think anyone would object to a kitten. Though he was the captain, harmony among his men was of paramount importance and he rarely did things that would upset the morale. After all, a happy crew was a loyal crew and Lukos wasn’t fool enough to think they’d follow him anywhere or do anything he asked them to out of the goodness of their hearts. They did it for the money and because they didn’t have the skills to do anything else.
“Yes,” he said after his brief consideration. “I’ll take her.” His tone was as though Khema had requested it, or suggested it, and he was doing her a favor. She ended up wanting to take the other three, and the mother, if possible. Lukos tilted his head at her and smirked. “What a bleeding heart you have.” It was the only criticism he gave when she asked him to get a crate.
It wasn’t obedience that he was performing so much as complying and it had everything to do with the lack of power struggle between them. If she’d been demanding or haughty, he’d have taught her what he thought of that lightning quick. Instead, she’d been polite and more than tolerable thus far, proving herself worth being treated as though she was a person, instead of chattel or worse. He did not take kindly to being debased. The brand on his back might have marked him a slave but he was no one’s property and the second someone attempted to make him feel like he might be, he rose up like a viper.
For Khema, who had somehow walked the line between pleasant and archness, he did as she asked, if only because she was pretty and because he was interested to see where this new little idea of hers was going to take them. He liked when people were interesting and she was definitely that. The crates were dusty and as he flipped one over, he found an unhappy spider bouncing in its web at him. Breaking the strands on one side of the spider’s web, he waved his hand at the little beast, frowning as it skittered for cover. Turning the crate over again, he gave it two whacks against the floor. The spider fell and made a mad dash for freedom but Lukos stamped his boot on it instead, crushing the life out of it.
“I hate spiders,” he muttered and then flipped the crate over yet again, to reveal one deep enough that the kittens couldn’t jump out of, but easy enough for him to carry for her to the Souk. “Drop your kittens in and let’s be on our way. My men will think you’ve stolen me,” he laughed at that ludicrous thought. She’d have a mess on her hands if she tried, after all the unusual kindness he’d been showering her with. He watched her with undisguised interest while holding the box for her.
She was lithe and graceful in her movements but her profile gave him pause. “Have we met?” he asked, not remembering if he’d asked her that before or not. The vaguest impression of her features tried to surface through his memories but he couldn’t place her, or where he’d ever have met someone of her calibre. “Have you bought slaves before?” Although she looked full young to be the one brokering deals on slaves, she might have accompanied her father or brother. “I’ve seen you…” The more he thought on it, the surer he became that he’d met her before, but where was the problem. They’d never spoken, that much he knew. This bothered him immensely and he narrowed his eyes as he studied her face, leaning closer than strictly necessary.
He could see Khema watching him out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned to look at her, she was flitting the fabric of her wrap back and forth for the kittens. Lukos’s attention fell there when the gray kitten practically leaped from his hand, claws out, flinging her little body at the fluttering cloth. She caught it but didn’t manage to hold it, and landed square on her brothers, bouncing backward, and rolling off the edge of the kitten pile. That didn’t stop her from trying again, clambering in between her siblings and shoving them out of the way in order to be the one to bat and claw the toy.
Lukos shook his head at the kitten. “You're going to take that one back to your ship?” Khema asked after a few seconds. He looked sharply at her, surprise etching his features.
“Take her?” he repeated and looked back down at the kitten battling heavily with the cloth. “I didn’t…” he trailed off. It wasn’t a half bad suggestion, it’s just that he hadn’t thought of it. She wouldn’t be the first cat on his ship and she probably wouldn’t be the last. They happened to be between animals, at the moment. Cats were revered by the Egyptians, but they were useful to sailors, whether merchant or pirate. Felines did an invaluable job of keeping rats and mice at bay, as well as chasing other creepy crawlies that happened to come aboard.
He thought about what it would look like, when he returned to the ship without the girl but with a fuzzy gray kitten in his arms. Arktos would gawp, some of the others would stare, but, ultimately, he didn’t think anyone would object to a kitten. Though he was the captain, harmony among his men was of paramount importance and he rarely did things that would upset the morale. After all, a happy crew was a loyal crew and Lukos wasn’t fool enough to think they’d follow him anywhere or do anything he asked them to out of the goodness of their hearts. They did it for the money and because they didn’t have the skills to do anything else.
“Yes,” he said after his brief consideration. “I’ll take her.” His tone was as though Khema had requested it, or suggested it, and he was doing her a favor. She ended up wanting to take the other three, and the mother, if possible. Lukos tilted his head at her and smirked. “What a bleeding heart you have.” It was the only criticism he gave when she asked him to get a crate.
It wasn’t obedience that he was performing so much as complying and it had everything to do with the lack of power struggle between them. If she’d been demanding or haughty, he’d have taught her what he thought of that lightning quick. Instead, she’d been polite and more than tolerable thus far, proving herself worth being treated as though she was a person, instead of chattel or worse. He did not take kindly to being debased. The brand on his back might have marked him a slave but he was no one’s property and the second someone attempted to make him feel like he might be, he rose up like a viper.
For Khema, who had somehow walked the line between pleasant and archness, he did as she asked, if only because she was pretty and because he was interested to see where this new little idea of hers was going to take them. He liked when people were interesting and she was definitely that. The crates were dusty and as he flipped one over, he found an unhappy spider bouncing in its web at him. Breaking the strands on one side of the spider’s web, he waved his hand at the little beast, frowning as it skittered for cover. Turning the crate over again, he gave it two whacks against the floor. The spider fell and made a mad dash for freedom but Lukos stamped his boot on it instead, crushing the life out of it.
“I hate spiders,” he muttered and then flipped the crate over yet again, to reveal one deep enough that the kittens couldn’t jump out of, but easy enough for him to carry for her to the Souk. “Drop your kittens in and let’s be on our way. My men will think you’ve stolen me,” he laughed at that ludicrous thought. She’d have a mess on her hands if she tried, after all the unusual kindness he’d been showering her with. He watched her with undisguised interest while holding the box for her.
She was lithe and graceful in her movements but her profile gave him pause. “Have we met?” he asked, not remembering if he’d asked her that before or not. The vaguest impression of her features tried to surface through his memories but he couldn’t place her, or where he’d ever have met someone of her calibre. “Have you bought slaves before?” Although she looked full young to be the one brokering deals on slaves, she might have accompanied her father or brother. “I’ve seen you…” The more he thought on it, the surer he became that he’d met her before, but where was the problem. They’d never spoken, that much he knew. This bothered him immensely and he narrowed his eyes as he studied her face, leaning closer than strictly necessary.
The kitten on Lukos' lap didn't want to miss out on the fun. Hatshepsut laughed as the fluffy gray feline leapt from his hands and pounced at the fluttering end of her scarf. She seemed to be the fiercest of her siblings, and the boldest. Maybe that was why the pirate had chosen her as his favorite. The two males were going to prove mischievous as well, but the calico female was more cautious … and perhaps the smartest … because as the rest of the kittens jumped and scrambled after the scarf, she watched it with large unblinking eyes and only pounced when it came close enough. And she caught it every time.
Lukos seemed surprised when Hatshepsut asked if he was going to take the gray kitten back to his ship. Did not Greek sailors keep cats like the Egyptians did? She had learned a lot about their customs and culture but her education had not included anything about their seafaring practices. At some point, she would probably be visiting Greece on a diplomatic mission. She assumed that her future husband would take care of the military aspects the kingdom and leave diplomacy up to her. The young Queen wasn't very skilled at it yet, but her mother was teaching her. By the time she married, she believed that she would be ready to rule with Osorsen, because the Council would certainly choose him to be Pharaoh.
Now she watched the emotions playing upon her unlikely companion's handsome face as he considered her suggestion. She suspected that he would take the feline. Kittens were hard to resist, whether one worshiped them or not, and despite Lukos' gruff manner, the Queen sensed kindness in him. If he was heartless, he would have pushed her down the gangplank and told her to find her own way back to the Souk rather than offer to escort her there himself. To him, she was just a wealthy young woman who had been at the wrong place at the wrong time when his crewman was looking for a plaything. Nothing she said or did could hurt him so there had been no reason to be so nice to her.
“Perhaps,” she said when he claimed she had a bleeding heart, which was no insult to a gentle girl like herself. “Or maybe I just have respect for my gods and a duty to do their will.” Hatshepsut believed that the kitten would have a good home with Lukos. As they had been born at the docks, they were probably accustomed to eating rats and mice already. Their mother could have started tossing them live ones to teach them how to kill. Survival wasn't a problem for a cat on the streets of Cairo, but they did pull their own weight and kept the rodent population down.
Lukos didn't balk when she asked him to find an appropriate crate for the kittens. The first one he turned over had a spider in it, and he stepped on the scurrying creature when it tried to get away. At first she thought that he might be afraid of them, but it was possible that spiders represented filth and neglect and that was why he detested him. His ship had been clean, what little she had seen of it. “They have their uses,” she remarked with a shrug. She often saw their webs strung between bushes in the palace gardens and she always left them alone. Everything the gods put on the earth had a purpose.
He found a crate that was deep enough to carry the kittens without them being able to leap out and make a run for it. Hatshepsut laughed at the notion that his men would think she stole him. “Maybe I would have if you had not come with me willingly,” she remarked with a mischievous sideways smile. “I would never have been able to get to the kittens without you. Perhaps it was fortunate that your crewman kidnapped me and brought me aboard your ship.” If she had been able to reveal her identity, she would have rewarded him handsomely for his assistance, but even sending a bag of coins to him anonymously might make him suspicious. Her gratitude would have to suffice.
She picked up each kitten and dropped them into the crate one by one, trying to figure out the best way to get them back to her sedan chair. Perhaps she could act surprised by the crowds gathering around her attendants and tell Lukos that they should give the kittens to the Queen. But her guards and retainers would stop them unless they sneaked in from the back, the same way she had sneaked out. They would not find the young monarch in her chair, of course, but they could leave the kittens inside. Yes, that sounded like a good plan …
Until he said that he thought he had seen her before. Saying anything about the Queen was now too much of a risk. He might put two and two together and realize that the place he had seen her was in the very sedan chair they planned to place the kittens in. He might have been selling his wares at the market when her chair had been carried by. She could think of no other way he could have seen her, unless he had been at the palace. Perhaps he supplied the royal household with slaves.
Though she wanted to wrap the scarf quickly around her head again, Hatshepsut resisted the urge. She would conceal her face with it when they left the warehouse, but doing it now might alert him to the fact that there was a reason she didn't want to be seen. If he guessed who she was, there was no telling what he might do with the information. Her mother would be livid with her if she found out that she had been associating with a Greek pirate. Even Zosie would disapprove.
Keeping her wits about her despite the pounding of her heart, she shrugged. “I go shopping a lot,” she said nonchalantly. “You might have seen me at the Souk. It was what I was doing today before your man abducted me. Or maybe you are mistaken.” She grinned playfully. “I've heard foreigners say that we Egyptians alllook alike.”
Giving him no more time to contemplate, the disguised Queen began heading toward the door, winding the shawl around her neck and head. “Come, let us go. The kittens won't be content in the crate for long and I need you to show me the way. I have no idea where we are."
The mother cat was looking up at the crate. Hatashepsut believed she would follow her kittens all the way the the Grand Souk and she could take her home as well.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The kitten on Lukos' lap didn't want to miss out on the fun. Hatshepsut laughed as the fluffy gray feline leapt from his hands and pounced at the fluttering end of her scarf. She seemed to be the fiercest of her siblings, and the boldest. Maybe that was why the pirate had chosen her as his favorite. The two males were going to prove mischievous as well, but the calico female was more cautious … and perhaps the smartest … because as the rest of the kittens jumped and scrambled after the scarf, she watched it with large unblinking eyes and only pounced when it came close enough. And she caught it every time.
Lukos seemed surprised when Hatshepsut asked if he was going to take the gray kitten back to his ship. Did not Greek sailors keep cats like the Egyptians did? She had learned a lot about their customs and culture but her education had not included anything about their seafaring practices. At some point, she would probably be visiting Greece on a diplomatic mission. She assumed that her future husband would take care of the military aspects the kingdom and leave diplomacy up to her. The young Queen wasn't very skilled at it yet, but her mother was teaching her. By the time she married, she believed that she would be ready to rule with Osorsen, because the Council would certainly choose him to be Pharaoh.
Now she watched the emotions playing upon her unlikely companion's handsome face as he considered her suggestion. She suspected that he would take the feline. Kittens were hard to resist, whether one worshiped them or not, and despite Lukos' gruff manner, the Queen sensed kindness in him. If he was heartless, he would have pushed her down the gangplank and told her to find her own way back to the Souk rather than offer to escort her there himself. To him, she was just a wealthy young woman who had been at the wrong place at the wrong time when his crewman was looking for a plaything. Nothing she said or did could hurt him so there had been no reason to be so nice to her.
“Perhaps,” she said when he claimed she had a bleeding heart, which was no insult to a gentle girl like herself. “Or maybe I just have respect for my gods and a duty to do their will.” Hatshepsut believed that the kitten would have a good home with Lukos. As they had been born at the docks, they were probably accustomed to eating rats and mice already. Their mother could have started tossing them live ones to teach them how to kill. Survival wasn't a problem for a cat on the streets of Cairo, but they did pull their own weight and kept the rodent population down.
Lukos didn't balk when she asked him to find an appropriate crate for the kittens. The first one he turned over had a spider in it, and he stepped on the scurrying creature when it tried to get away. At first she thought that he might be afraid of them, but it was possible that spiders represented filth and neglect and that was why he detested him. His ship had been clean, what little she had seen of it. “They have their uses,” she remarked with a shrug. She often saw their webs strung between bushes in the palace gardens and she always left them alone. Everything the gods put on the earth had a purpose.
He found a crate that was deep enough to carry the kittens without them being able to leap out and make a run for it. Hatshepsut laughed at the notion that his men would think she stole him. “Maybe I would have if you had not come with me willingly,” she remarked with a mischievous sideways smile. “I would never have been able to get to the kittens without you. Perhaps it was fortunate that your crewman kidnapped me and brought me aboard your ship.” If she had been able to reveal her identity, she would have rewarded him handsomely for his assistance, but even sending a bag of coins to him anonymously might make him suspicious. Her gratitude would have to suffice.
She picked up each kitten and dropped them into the crate one by one, trying to figure out the best way to get them back to her sedan chair. Perhaps she could act surprised by the crowds gathering around her attendants and tell Lukos that they should give the kittens to the Queen. But her guards and retainers would stop them unless they sneaked in from the back, the same way she had sneaked out. They would not find the young monarch in her chair, of course, but they could leave the kittens inside. Yes, that sounded like a good plan …
Until he said that he thought he had seen her before. Saying anything about the Queen was now too much of a risk. He might put two and two together and realize that the place he had seen her was in the very sedan chair they planned to place the kittens in. He might have been selling his wares at the market when her chair had been carried by. She could think of no other way he could have seen her, unless he had been at the palace. Perhaps he supplied the royal household with slaves.
Though she wanted to wrap the scarf quickly around her head again, Hatshepsut resisted the urge. She would conceal her face with it when they left the warehouse, but doing it now might alert him to the fact that there was a reason she didn't want to be seen. If he guessed who she was, there was no telling what he might do with the information. Her mother would be livid with her if she found out that she had been associating with a Greek pirate. Even Zosie would disapprove.
Keeping her wits about her despite the pounding of her heart, she shrugged. “I go shopping a lot,” she said nonchalantly. “You might have seen me at the Souk. It was what I was doing today before your man abducted me. Or maybe you are mistaken.” She grinned playfully. “I've heard foreigners say that we Egyptians alllook alike.”
Giving him no more time to contemplate, the disguised Queen began heading toward the door, winding the shawl around her neck and head. “Come, let us go. The kittens won't be content in the crate for long and I need you to show me the way. I have no idea where we are."
The mother cat was looking up at the crate. Hatashepsut believed she would follow her kittens all the way the the Grand Souk and she could take her home as well.
The kitten on Lukos' lap didn't want to miss out on the fun. Hatshepsut laughed as the fluffy gray feline leapt from his hands and pounced at the fluttering end of her scarf. She seemed to be the fiercest of her siblings, and the boldest. Maybe that was why the pirate had chosen her as his favorite. The two males were going to prove mischievous as well, but the calico female was more cautious … and perhaps the smartest … because as the rest of the kittens jumped and scrambled after the scarf, she watched it with large unblinking eyes and only pounced when it came close enough. And she caught it every time.
Lukos seemed surprised when Hatshepsut asked if he was going to take the gray kitten back to his ship. Did not Greek sailors keep cats like the Egyptians did? She had learned a lot about their customs and culture but her education had not included anything about their seafaring practices. At some point, she would probably be visiting Greece on a diplomatic mission. She assumed that her future husband would take care of the military aspects the kingdom and leave diplomacy up to her. The young Queen wasn't very skilled at it yet, but her mother was teaching her. By the time she married, she believed that she would be ready to rule with Osorsen, because the Council would certainly choose him to be Pharaoh.
Now she watched the emotions playing upon her unlikely companion's handsome face as he considered her suggestion. She suspected that he would take the feline. Kittens were hard to resist, whether one worshiped them or not, and despite Lukos' gruff manner, the Queen sensed kindness in him. If he was heartless, he would have pushed her down the gangplank and told her to find her own way back to the Souk rather than offer to escort her there himself. To him, she was just a wealthy young woman who had been at the wrong place at the wrong time when his crewman was looking for a plaything. Nothing she said or did could hurt him so there had been no reason to be so nice to her.
“Perhaps,” she said when he claimed she had a bleeding heart, which was no insult to a gentle girl like herself. “Or maybe I just have respect for my gods and a duty to do their will.” Hatshepsut believed that the kitten would have a good home with Lukos. As they had been born at the docks, they were probably accustomed to eating rats and mice already. Their mother could have started tossing them live ones to teach them how to kill. Survival wasn't a problem for a cat on the streets of Cairo, but they did pull their own weight and kept the rodent population down.
Lukos didn't balk when she asked him to find an appropriate crate for the kittens. The first one he turned over had a spider in it, and he stepped on the scurrying creature when it tried to get away. At first she thought that he might be afraid of them, but it was possible that spiders represented filth and neglect and that was why he detested him. His ship had been clean, what little she had seen of it. “They have their uses,” she remarked with a shrug. She often saw their webs strung between bushes in the palace gardens and she always left them alone. Everything the gods put on the earth had a purpose.
He found a crate that was deep enough to carry the kittens without them being able to leap out and make a run for it. Hatshepsut laughed at the notion that his men would think she stole him. “Maybe I would have if you had not come with me willingly,” she remarked with a mischievous sideways smile. “I would never have been able to get to the kittens without you. Perhaps it was fortunate that your crewman kidnapped me and brought me aboard your ship.” If she had been able to reveal her identity, she would have rewarded him handsomely for his assistance, but even sending a bag of coins to him anonymously might make him suspicious. Her gratitude would have to suffice.
She picked up each kitten and dropped them into the crate one by one, trying to figure out the best way to get them back to her sedan chair. Perhaps she could act surprised by the crowds gathering around her attendants and tell Lukos that they should give the kittens to the Queen. But her guards and retainers would stop them unless they sneaked in from the back, the same way she had sneaked out. They would not find the young monarch in her chair, of course, but they could leave the kittens inside. Yes, that sounded like a good plan …
Until he said that he thought he had seen her before. Saying anything about the Queen was now too much of a risk. He might put two and two together and realize that the place he had seen her was in the very sedan chair they planned to place the kittens in. He might have been selling his wares at the market when her chair had been carried by. She could think of no other way he could have seen her, unless he had been at the palace. Perhaps he supplied the royal household with slaves.
Though she wanted to wrap the scarf quickly around her head again, Hatshepsut resisted the urge. She would conceal her face with it when they left the warehouse, but doing it now might alert him to the fact that there was a reason she didn't want to be seen. If he guessed who she was, there was no telling what he might do with the information. Her mother would be livid with her if she found out that she had been associating with a Greek pirate. Even Zosie would disapprove.
Keeping her wits about her despite the pounding of her heart, she shrugged. “I go shopping a lot,” she said nonchalantly. “You might have seen me at the Souk. It was what I was doing today before your man abducted me. Or maybe you are mistaken.” She grinned playfully. “I've heard foreigners say that we Egyptians alllook alike.”
Giving him no more time to contemplate, the disguised Queen began heading toward the door, winding the shawl around her neck and head. “Come, let us go. The kittens won't be content in the crate for long and I need you to show me the way. I have no idea where we are."
The mother cat was looking up at the crate. Hatashepsut believed she would follow her kittens all the way the the Grand Souk and she could take her home as well.
His dark eyes roamed her face as though he was physically touching her while he inspected her features. He did not miss the way her pupils dilated in secret fear, though people’s eyes could display any number of emotions and the one he chose to take this as played more to his own vanity than anything else. When women were attracted to him, their eyes displayed exactly that kind of wide look and her teasing all but confirmed it. Lifting his chin at her, he pulled away and looked down at the kittens squirming about in the crate. They were tempting.
“I go shopping a lot,” she said. “You might have seen me at the Souk. It was what I was doing today before your man abducted me. Or maybe you are mistaken.” His sharp gaze was all that met the word ‘mistaken’. A slow smirk curled his lips. No, he wasn’t ‘mistaken’. He had most definitely seen her before, it was just a matter of pinning down where and when.
“I've heard foreigners say that we Egyptians all look alike,” she went on and he followed after her as she turned, shaking his head.
“I have a talent for remembering people,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’ll think of it.” His attention drifted to her backside as she walked, so that by the time they were back out into the alley, he’d not even noticed her scarf was back to obscuring her features. Ah well.
“Come, let us go. The kittens won't be content in the crate for long and I need you to show me the way. I have no idea where we are." Khema said. Lukos followed but had to keep his legs wide as the momma cat kept trotting between his feet, staring up at the crate like he was just going to give the kittens back.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said distractedly to Khema, attention still on the adult cat that he could not seem to ditch, no matter what fancy footwork he adopted. Wherever he stepped, she was there to trip him up and he leaned his shoulder on the wall, finally using his boot to scoop up under the mother cat’s belly and scootch her out of his way. “See to her,” he frowned at the calico. “She’s mischief.”
They made their way out the other side of the alley and once there, Lukos stopped, looking first to his right, then to his left. He’d never been down that alley before and he was gauging where they were in relation to where he’d intended to go. Since he’d taken her the roundabout way, they weren’t exactly on the path he’d have chosen at this precise moment, but after a few seconds, he figured it out and strode off into the crowd, not caring if the mother cat kept up but checking at his elbow every so often to see how Khema fared.
The zig zag pattern they took to get to the souk was enough to make him wish they’d left the kittens behind and he resorted to putting the crate on one shoulder as he walked, like he’d do if he was unloading the ship. It saved his arms and when that began to hurt, he’d just switch to the other shoulder. At long last, after dusty streets, odd looks from passersby, and all manner of walking trouble from the irksome mother cat, he’d brought her to the souk.
“There, princess,” he said and swiped the back of his hand across his forehead. “Here’s your souk. Where are your people? I want to get back.”
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His dark eyes roamed her face as though he was physically touching her while he inspected her features. He did not miss the way her pupils dilated in secret fear, though people’s eyes could display any number of emotions and the one he chose to take this as played more to his own vanity than anything else. When women were attracted to him, their eyes displayed exactly that kind of wide look and her teasing all but confirmed it. Lifting his chin at her, he pulled away and looked down at the kittens squirming about in the crate. They were tempting.
“I go shopping a lot,” she said. “You might have seen me at the Souk. It was what I was doing today before your man abducted me. Or maybe you are mistaken.” His sharp gaze was all that met the word ‘mistaken’. A slow smirk curled his lips. No, he wasn’t ‘mistaken’. He had most definitely seen her before, it was just a matter of pinning down where and when.
“I've heard foreigners say that we Egyptians all look alike,” she went on and he followed after her as she turned, shaking his head.
“I have a talent for remembering people,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’ll think of it.” His attention drifted to her backside as she walked, so that by the time they were back out into the alley, he’d not even noticed her scarf was back to obscuring her features. Ah well.
“Come, let us go. The kittens won't be content in the crate for long and I need you to show me the way. I have no idea where we are." Khema said. Lukos followed but had to keep his legs wide as the momma cat kept trotting between his feet, staring up at the crate like he was just going to give the kittens back.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said distractedly to Khema, attention still on the adult cat that he could not seem to ditch, no matter what fancy footwork he adopted. Wherever he stepped, she was there to trip him up and he leaned his shoulder on the wall, finally using his boot to scoop up under the mother cat’s belly and scootch her out of his way. “See to her,” he frowned at the calico. “She’s mischief.”
They made their way out the other side of the alley and once there, Lukos stopped, looking first to his right, then to his left. He’d never been down that alley before and he was gauging where they were in relation to where he’d intended to go. Since he’d taken her the roundabout way, they weren’t exactly on the path he’d have chosen at this precise moment, but after a few seconds, he figured it out and strode off into the crowd, not caring if the mother cat kept up but checking at his elbow every so often to see how Khema fared.
The zig zag pattern they took to get to the souk was enough to make him wish they’d left the kittens behind and he resorted to putting the crate on one shoulder as he walked, like he’d do if he was unloading the ship. It saved his arms and when that began to hurt, he’d just switch to the other shoulder. At long last, after dusty streets, odd looks from passersby, and all manner of walking trouble from the irksome mother cat, he’d brought her to the souk.
“There, princess,” he said and swiped the back of his hand across his forehead. “Here’s your souk. Where are your people? I want to get back.”
His dark eyes roamed her face as though he was physically touching her while he inspected her features. He did not miss the way her pupils dilated in secret fear, though people’s eyes could display any number of emotions and the one he chose to take this as played more to his own vanity than anything else. When women were attracted to him, their eyes displayed exactly that kind of wide look and her teasing all but confirmed it. Lifting his chin at her, he pulled away and looked down at the kittens squirming about in the crate. They were tempting.
“I go shopping a lot,” she said. “You might have seen me at the Souk. It was what I was doing today before your man abducted me. Or maybe you are mistaken.” His sharp gaze was all that met the word ‘mistaken’. A slow smirk curled his lips. No, he wasn’t ‘mistaken’. He had most definitely seen her before, it was just a matter of pinning down where and when.
“I've heard foreigners say that we Egyptians all look alike,” she went on and he followed after her as she turned, shaking his head.
“I have a talent for remembering people,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’ll think of it.” His attention drifted to her backside as she walked, so that by the time they were back out into the alley, he’d not even noticed her scarf was back to obscuring her features. Ah well.
“Come, let us go. The kittens won't be content in the crate for long and I need you to show me the way. I have no idea where we are." Khema said. Lukos followed but had to keep his legs wide as the momma cat kept trotting between his feet, staring up at the crate like he was just going to give the kittens back.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said distractedly to Khema, attention still on the adult cat that he could not seem to ditch, no matter what fancy footwork he adopted. Wherever he stepped, she was there to trip him up and he leaned his shoulder on the wall, finally using his boot to scoop up under the mother cat’s belly and scootch her out of his way. “See to her,” he frowned at the calico. “She’s mischief.”
They made their way out the other side of the alley and once there, Lukos stopped, looking first to his right, then to his left. He’d never been down that alley before and he was gauging where they were in relation to where he’d intended to go. Since he’d taken her the roundabout way, they weren’t exactly on the path he’d have chosen at this precise moment, but after a few seconds, he figured it out and strode off into the crowd, not caring if the mother cat kept up but checking at his elbow every so often to see how Khema fared.
The zig zag pattern they took to get to the souk was enough to make him wish they’d left the kittens behind and he resorted to putting the crate on one shoulder as he walked, like he’d do if he was unloading the ship. It saved his arms and when that began to hurt, he’d just switch to the other shoulder. At long last, after dusty streets, odd looks from passersby, and all manner of walking trouble from the irksome mother cat, he’d brought her to the souk.
“There, princess,” he said and swiped the back of his hand across his forehead. “Here’s your souk. Where are your people? I want to get back.”
His closeness unnerved her, though her body had a completely different reaction. A thrill of excitement meandered down her spine and again Hatshepsut wondered what it would feel like if Lukos kissed her, if he drew her to the dusty floor, removed her kalisaris, and made her his. Those pleasant but confusing thoughts momentarily masked the fear that he might know who she was. When he pulled away and looked down at the kittens, her mind returned to the dilemma she faced. His smirk, though attractive, told her that he was certain that he was not mistaken and that he had, indeed, seen her somewhere before.
She would have to be very careful not to give herself away and maintain a casual air. “I hope you remember, and that you tell me when you do. I have a good memory as well, but I don't recall ever seeing you before.” If she had, she doubted that she would have forgotten him, unless it had been more than a year ago when men didn't yet interest her.
If he had brought slaves to the palace, she wouldn't have given him a second glance regardless of how she felt about the opposite sex. Such things didn't concern her and was left to the household steward. Lukos could have seen her walking past or glimpsed her through a window while she was strolling through the gardens. Or, as she had suspected a few moments earlier, he had seen her being carried in her sedan chair or perhaps distributing alms to the poor. The latter often took place in the souk, where they were heading now. Would the location jog his memory? She certainly hoped not.
The young Queen could feel his eyes on her bum as they left the warehouse, and she smiled to herself and swung her hips seductively just to tease him. She was just beginning to learn how to use her feminine wiles and there was no time like the present to practice. If he wasn't carrying a crate full of squirming kittens, would he try to grab it? And if he did, would she slap him? Or would she grab his too? The notion amused her and took her mind away from the fear of discovery.
Walking ahead of him, she didn't notice the mother cat weaving between his legs until Lukos called her attention to it. Turning around, she frowned as he pushed the calico away with his boot. Cats should always be treated with respect. Hatshepsut supposed that she should be grateful that he had been gentle and hadn't kicked the feline instead. Pirates were supposed to be fierce, after all. “She's just concerned about her kittens,” she said, laughing as the mother cat jumped at the crate, as if trying to get in. Scooping her up, the Queen cradled her in her arms. “I'll take care of her. And 'Mischief' seems to be a good name for her.”
She let him take the lead, and stopped when he did at the end of the alley. Did he truly know how to get back to the souk? From the winding route they took, she doubted it, but she had no idea how to get there herself, so all she could do was hope he finally found his bearings. Mischief settled in her arms and started purring and once she lifted her head and licked Hatshepsut's chin. It was odd for a stray cat to enjoy being carried but the young Queen was blessed by the gods and the calico probably knew that she was safe with her. Or that was what Hatshepstut thought anyway.
The crate must be heavy the way Lukos kept shifting it around, finally settling it upon one shoulder and then the other. At one point, Mischief jumped down and started weaving through his legs again, but Hatshepsut picked her up and held her a bit tighter. “Don't worry, little one,” she crooned to her. “You'll be reunited with your kittens soon.”
The number of people walking in the same direction increased the farther they went until they were in the midst of a moving crowd. This was good, and cut down on the chances of being recognized. Lukos stopped when they reached the souk. She felt a bit sorry for making him carry the crate such a long distance as she watched him wipe the sweat from his forehead. Again, he called her 'Princess,' a title she had not held since she had become Queen at the age of six. “You can set the crate down here. It shouldn't be too long before my family finds me and one of my brothers can carry it home.”
She shot him a playful sideways smile and set the mother cat on the ground. “I don't want to keep you away from your ship any longer. Thank you for rescuing me and helping me find the kittens and bring them here.”
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His closeness unnerved her, though her body had a completely different reaction. A thrill of excitement meandered down her spine and again Hatshepsut wondered what it would feel like if Lukos kissed her, if he drew her to the dusty floor, removed her kalisaris, and made her his. Those pleasant but confusing thoughts momentarily masked the fear that he might know who she was. When he pulled away and looked down at the kittens, her mind returned to the dilemma she faced. His smirk, though attractive, told her that he was certain that he was not mistaken and that he had, indeed, seen her somewhere before.
She would have to be very careful not to give herself away and maintain a casual air. “I hope you remember, and that you tell me when you do. I have a good memory as well, but I don't recall ever seeing you before.” If she had, she doubted that she would have forgotten him, unless it had been more than a year ago when men didn't yet interest her.
If he had brought slaves to the palace, she wouldn't have given him a second glance regardless of how she felt about the opposite sex. Such things didn't concern her and was left to the household steward. Lukos could have seen her walking past or glimpsed her through a window while she was strolling through the gardens. Or, as she had suspected a few moments earlier, he had seen her being carried in her sedan chair or perhaps distributing alms to the poor. The latter often took place in the souk, where they were heading now. Would the location jog his memory? She certainly hoped not.
The young Queen could feel his eyes on her bum as they left the warehouse, and she smiled to herself and swung her hips seductively just to tease him. She was just beginning to learn how to use her feminine wiles and there was no time like the present to practice. If he wasn't carrying a crate full of squirming kittens, would he try to grab it? And if he did, would she slap him? Or would she grab his too? The notion amused her and took her mind away from the fear of discovery.
Walking ahead of him, she didn't notice the mother cat weaving between his legs until Lukos called her attention to it. Turning around, she frowned as he pushed the calico away with his boot. Cats should always be treated with respect. Hatshepsut supposed that she should be grateful that he had been gentle and hadn't kicked the feline instead. Pirates were supposed to be fierce, after all. “She's just concerned about her kittens,” she said, laughing as the mother cat jumped at the crate, as if trying to get in. Scooping her up, the Queen cradled her in her arms. “I'll take care of her. And 'Mischief' seems to be a good name for her.”
She let him take the lead, and stopped when he did at the end of the alley. Did he truly know how to get back to the souk? From the winding route they took, she doubted it, but she had no idea how to get there herself, so all she could do was hope he finally found his bearings. Mischief settled in her arms and started purring and once she lifted her head and licked Hatshepsut's chin. It was odd for a stray cat to enjoy being carried but the young Queen was blessed by the gods and the calico probably knew that she was safe with her. Or that was what Hatshepstut thought anyway.
The crate must be heavy the way Lukos kept shifting it around, finally settling it upon one shoulder and then the other. At one point, Mischief jumped down and started weaving through his legs again, but Hatshepsut picked her up and held her a bit tighter. “Don't worry, little one,” she crooned to her. “You'll be reunited with your kittens soon.”
The number of people walking in the same direction increased the farther they went until they were in the midst of a moving crowd. This was good, and cut down on the chances of being recognized. Lukos stopped when they reached the souk. She felt a bit sorry for making him carry the crate such a long distance as she watched him wipe the sweat from his forehead. Again, he called her 'Princess,' a title she had not held since she had become Queen at the age of six. “You can set the crate down here. It shouldn't be too long before my family finds me and one of my brothers can carry it home.”
She shot him a playful sideways smile and set the mother cat on the ground. “I don't want to keep you away from your ship any longer. Thank you for rescuing me and helping me find the kittens and bring them here.”
His closeness unnerved her, though her body had a completely different reaction. A thrill of excitement meandered down her spine and again Hatshepsut wondered what it would feel like if Lukos kissed her, if he drew her to the dusty floor, removed her kalisaris, and made her his. Those pleasant but confusing thoughts momentarily masked the fear that he might know who she was. When he pulled away and looked down at the kittens, her mind returned to the dilemma she faced. His smirk, though attractive, told her that he was certain that he was not mistaken and that he had, indeed, seen her somewhere before.
She would have to be very careful not to give herself away and maintain a casual air. “I hope you remember, and that you tell me when you do. I have a good memory as well, but I don't recall ever seeing you before.” If she had, she doubted that she would have forgotten him, unless it had been more than a year ago when men didn't yet interest her.
If he had brought slaves to the palace, she wouldn't have given him a second glance regardless of how she felt about the opposite sex. Such things didn't concern her and was left to the household steward. Lukos could have seen her walking past or glimpsed her through a window while she was strolling through the gardens. Or, as she had suspected a few moments earlier, he had seen her being carried in her sedan chair or perhaps distributing alms to the poor. The latter often took place in the souk, where they were heading now. Would the location jog his memory? She certainly hoped not.
The young Queen could feel his eyes on her bum as they left the warehouse, and she smiled to herself and swung her hips seductively just to tease him. She was just beginning to learn how to use her feminine wiles and there was no time like the present to practice. If he wasn't carrying a crate full of squirming kittens, would he try to grab it? And if he did, would she slap him? Or would she grab his too? The notion amused her and took her mind away from the fear of discovery.
Walking ahead of him, she didn't notice the mother cat weaving between his legs until Lukos called her attention to it. Turning around, she frowned as he pushed the calico away with his boot. Cats should always be treated with respect. Hatshepsut supposed that she should be grateful that he had been gentle and hadn't kicked the feline instead. Pirates were supposed to be fierce, after all. “She's just concerned about her kittens,” she said, laughing as the mother cat jumped at the crate, as if trying to get in. Scooping her up, the Queen cradled her in her arms. “I'll take care of her. And 'Mischief' seems to be a good name for her.”
She let him take the lead, and stopped when he did at the end of the alley. Did he truly know how to get back to the souk? From the winding route they took, she doubted it, but she had no idea how to get there herself, so all she could do was hope he finally found his bearings. Mischief settled in her arms and started purring and once she lifted her head and licked Hatshepsut's chin. It was odd for a stray cat to enjoy being carried but the young Queen was blessed by the gods and the calico probably knew that she was safe with her. Or that was what Hatshepstut thought anyway.
The crate must be heavy the way Lukos kept shifting it around, finally settling it upon one shoulder and then the other. At one point, Mischief jumped down and started weaving through his legs again, but Hatshepsut picked her up and held her a bit tighter. “Don't worry, little one,” she crooned to her. “You'll be reunited with your kittens soon.”
The number of people walking in the same direction increased the farther they went until they were in the midst of a moving crowd. This was good, and cut down on the chances of being recognized. Lukos stopped when they reached the souk. She felt a bit sorry for making him carry the crate such a long distance as she watched him wipe the sweat from his forehead. Again, he called her 'Princess,' a title she had not held since she had become Queen at the age of six. “You can set the crate down here. It shouldn't be too long before my family finds me and one of my brothers can carry it home.”
She shot him a playful sideways smile and set the mother cat on the ground. “I don't want to keep you away from your ship any longer. Thank you for rescuing me and helping me find the kittens and bring them here.”
Perhaps the market would have jogged his memory if he wasn’t quite so distracted. They stood just to the side of a stall whose vendor made it a point to shout at every human being who walked by. ”Dates! Figs! Freshest fruit in the souk!” Then, of course, across the wide, intervening space, another merchant bawled, competing for attention. ”Fish! Fresh caught this very morning! Blessed of the gods! Eat and be wealthy!” More offers filled the air. Everything from rugs to wigs to olive oil to talismans. Voices crashing into each other, clawing over one another, all in a bid to be the most important, loudest, primary place to serve the souk in an effort to make money. Added to this were the nauseating smells of raw fish, mingled with heady, ripe fruit practically baking in the afternoon sun, cooked flat breads, perfumed wax, human sweat, horse sweat, ox sweat, dung, and dust.
None of this was alien to him. It was where he spent the vast majority of his time when in any port. Most of his life involved markets, whether slave or places like here. But just because it was familiar didn’t mean it wasn’t equally fatiguing. With the heat of the day pressing down, making the air shimmer, and his senses being violently assaulted, Lukos had entirely abandoned his curiosity as to where he’d seen Khema before. He made no argument when she told him to set down the crate. Stopping to scoop out the wily gray kitten, he straightened back up in time to give her a bemused look at her thanking him for the rescue.
“That wasn’t a rescue,” he countered, holding the kitten to his chest and scratching absently under her chin. The kitten closed her eyes, throat vibrating in a purr. “I let you go because you’re more trouble to keep than you’re worth.” The kitten mewled and Lukos looked down at her. “You better not be,” he told her. Would he have let Khema go if he’d known she was Hatshepsut? Probably but they’d have been in some sort of intense conversation about saving his own neck and bartering for some kind of reward. He’d have definitely not allowed her the little cat detour they took. If she’d been a true commoner, he wouldn’t have interfered on her behalf at all.
With her scarf back up, it was a little more difficult to make out her features when he turned back to her. Leaning around her so that he could see her face fully, he smirked at her. It was such a shame she had to go back. She was exactly what he liked; dark hair, dark eyes, snarky. Beauty meant very little to him if the person in possession of it was as dull as flat, windless sea. Even though what he was about to say would likely be insulting to someone of her station, he didn’t really care. He’d offer anyway and she could do what she liked with it. “If you’re ever brave enough to venture out,” he said. “I’m here every few months or so.” Working one of his rings off his finger, he handed it to her. It was a plain silver ring with a snake etched into the surface. “Can’t promise for any other ship, but that’ll grant you safe passage onto mine.” He didn’t intend to go fetch the ring if she flung it across the Souk, nor did he stick around to see what she did with it.
Turning away, he left her to now fend for herself with Mischief in her arms and the crate of kittens at her feet. From here, he took the shorter way back to the docks, following the general flow of the crowd, he only had to twist and weave around people a few times before he was back in his normal territory. The moored ships bobbed gently up and down. Lukos made a beeline for the one painted black with red rolled up red sails. The kitten struggled in his hands, badly wanting down, but he held onto her easily enough, cupping her little bottom and keeping her forelimbs against her body with his other hand. As he started up the Aceton’s gangway, Arktos met him at the top, pointing with a huge, meaty finger at the gray, bat eared ball of fluff.
”What’s ‘at?” he eyed the kitten with suspicion.
“This,” Lukos looked at the kitten for a second and then held her out to his first mate, dumping the little cat into Arktos’s massive hands. “Is Artemis. Our new rat hunter. Pet her. She’s the only girl who likes you at the moment.”
“Our rats ain’t that bad, Captain,” Arktos complained, cradling Artemis anyway and petting her absently as Lukos had done. As though to contradict Arktos’s statement, a rat boldly scuttled along the edge of the deck, spotted them, twitched its whiskers, and continued on. Lukos cut a flat look to Arktos and rolled his eyes.
“I’m holding you responsible for her messes,” Lukos said, earning a ”hey!” from Arktos, but, really, Arktos secretly didn’t care. He already had plans to keep the kitten with him in his hammock. It was evident to him that Lukos wasn’t bringing this cat aboard as a personal pet, but meant it for the ship as a whole. A part of the crew, as it were. Which meant that she was Arktos’s to manage. Arktos finally shrugged and said, ”Aye, Captain,” and stumped off towards the hold to see what food scraps he could talk Hedrion, their cook, out of.
Lukos leaned on the railing, looking towards the souk, biting his lower lip, and then, his eyes drifted towards the palace which was just visible from here. The palace….Khema’s face floated before him as he stared hard at the building. Yes...he’d seen her there, he decided. She’d been coy because she likely was one of the Pharaoh’s mistresses, he decided. She probably wasn’t supposed to be out. Nodding to himself and deciding that was where she’d come from, he turned away to trail down to his cabin. Mystery solved.
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Perhaps the market would have jogged his memory if he wasn’t quite so distracted. They stood just to the side of a stall whose vendor made it a point to shout at every human being who walked by. ”Dates! Figs! Freshest fruit in the souk!” Then, of course, across the wide, intervening space, another merchant bawled, competing for attention. ”Fish! Fresh caught this very morning! Blessed of the gods! Eat and be wealthy!” More offers filled the air. Everything from rugs to wigs to olive oil to talismans. Voices crashing into each other, clawing over one another, all in a bid to be the most important, loudest, primary place to serve the souk in an effort to make money. Added to this were the nauseating smells of raw fish, mingled with heady, ripe fruit practically baking in the afternoon sun, cooked flat breads, perfumed wax, human sweat, horse sweat, ox sweat, dung, and dust.
None of this was alien to him. It was where he spent the vast majority of his time when in any port. Most of his life involved markets, whether slave or places like here. But just because it was familiar didn’t mean it wasn’t equally fatiguing. With the heat of the day pressing down, making the air shimmer, and his senses being violently assaulted, Lukos had entirely abandoned his curiosity as to where he’d seen Khema before. He made no argument when she told him to set down the crate. Stopping to scoop out the wily gray kitten, he straightened back up in time to give her a bemused look at her thanking him for the rescue.
“That wasn’t a rescue,” he countered, holding the kitten to his chest and scratching absently under her chin. The kitten closed her eyes, throat vibrating in a purr. “I let you go because you’re more trouble to keep than you’re worth.” The kitten mewled and Lukos looked down at her. “You better not be,” he told her. Would he have let Khema go if he’d known she was Hatshepsut? Probably but they’d have been in some sort of intense conversation about saving his own neck and bartering for some kind of reward. He’d have definitely not allowed her the little cat detour they took. If she’d been a true commoner, he wouldn’t have interfered on her behalf at all.
With her scarf back up, it was a little more difficult to make out her features when he turned back to her. Leaning around her so that he could see her face fully, he smirked at her. It was such a shame she had to go back. She was exactly what he liked; dark hair, dark eyes, snarky. Beauty meant very little to him if the person in possession of it was as dull as flat, windless sea. Even though what he was about to say would likely be insulting to someone of her station, he didn’t really care. He’d offer anyway and she could do what she liked with it. “If you’re ever brave enough to venture out,” he said. “I’m here every few months or so.” Working one of his rings off his finger, he handed it to her. It was a plain silver ring with a snake etched into the surface. “Can’t promise for any other ship, but that’ll grant you safe passage onto mine.” He didn’t intend to go fetch the ring if she flung it across the Souk, nor did he stick around to see what she did with it.
Turning away, he left her to now fend for herself with Mischief in her arms and the crate of kittens at her feet. From here, he took the shorter way back to the docks, following the general flow of the crowd, he only had to twist and weave around people a few times before he was back in his normal territory. The moored ships bobbed gently up and down. Lukos made a beeline for the one painted black with red rolled up red sails. The kitten struggled in his hands, badly wanting down, but he held onto her easily enough, cupping her little bottom and keeping her forelimbs against her body with his other hand. As he started up the Aceton’s gangway, Arktos met him at the top, pointing with a huge, meaty finger at the gray, bat eared ball of fluff.
”What’s ‘at?” he eyed the kitten with suspicion.
“This,” Lukos looked at the kitten for a second and then held her out to his first mate, dumping the little cat into Arktos’s massive hands. “Is Artemis. Our new rat hunter. Pet her. She’s the only girl who likes you at the moment.”
“Our rats ain’t that bad, Captain,” Arktos complained, cradling Artemis anyway and petting her absently as Lukos had done. As though to contradict Arktos’s statement, a rat boldly scuttled along the edge of the deck, spotted them, twitched its whiskers, and continued on. Lukos cut a flat look to Arktos and rolled his eyes.
“I’m holding you responsible for her messes,” Lukos said, earning a ”hey!” from Arktos, but, really, Arktos secretly didn’t care. He already had plans to keep the kitten with him in his hammock. It was evident to him that Lukos wasn’t bringing this cat aboard as a personal pet, but meant it for the ship as a whole. A part of the crew, as it were. Which meant that she was Arktos’s to manage. Arktos finally shrugged and said, ”Aye, Captain,” and stumped off towards the hold to see what food scraps he could talk Hedrion, their cook, out of.
Lukos leaned on the railing, looking towards the souk, biting his lower lip, and then, his eyes drifted towards the palace which was just visible from here. The palace….Khema’s face floated before him as he stared hard at the building. Yes...he’d seen her there, he decided. She’d been coy because she likely was one of the Pharaoh’s mistresses, he decided. She probably wasn’t supposed to be out. Nodding to himself and deciding that was where she’d come from, he turned away to trail down to his cabin. Mystery solved.
Perhaps the market would have jogged his memory if he wasn’t quite so distracted. They stood just to the side of a stall whose vendor made it a point to shout at every human being who walked by. ”Dates! Figs! Freshest fruit in the souk!” Then, of course, across the wide, intervening space, another merchant bawled, competing for attention. ”Fish! Fresh caught this very morning! Blessed of the gods! Eat and be wealthy!” More offers filled the air. Everything from rugs to wigs to olive oil to talismans. Voices crashing into each other, clawing over one another, all in a bid to be the most important, loudest, primary place to serve the souk in an effort to make money. Added to this were the nauseating smells of raw fish, mingled with heady, ripe fruit practically baking in the afternoon sun, cooked flat breads, perfumed wax, human sweat, horse sweat, ox sweat, dung, and dust.
None of this was alien to him. It was where he spent the vast majority of his time when in any port. Most of his life involved markets, whether slave or places like here. But just because it was familiar didn’t mean it wasn’t equally fatiguing. With the heat of the day pressing down, making the air shimmer, and his senses being violently assaulted, Lukos had entirely abandoned his curiosity as to where he’d seen Khema before. He made no argument when she told him to set down the crate. Stopping to scoop out the wily gray kitten, he straightened back up in time to give her a bemused look at her thanking him for the rescue.
“That wasn’t a rescue,” he countered, holding the kitten to his chest and scratching absently under her chin. The kitten closed her eyes, throat vibrating in a purr. “I let you go because you’re more trouble to keep than you’re worth.” The kitten mewled and Lukos looked down at her. “You better not be,” he told her. Would he have let Khema go if he’d known she was Hatshepsut? Probably but they’d have been in some sort of intense conversation about saving his own neck and bartering for some kind of reward. He’d have definitely not allowed her the little cat detour they took. If she’d been a true commoner, he wouldn’t have interfered on her behalf at all.
With her scarf back up, it was a little more difficult to make out her features when he turned back to her. Leaning around her so that he could see her face fully, he smirked at her. It was such a shame she had to go back. She was exactly what he liked; dark hair, dark eyes, snarky. Beauty meant very little to him if the person in possession of it was as dull as flat, windless sea. Even though what he was about to say would likely be insulting to someone of her station, he didn’t really care. He’d offer anyway and she could do what she liked with it. “If you’re ever brave enough to venture out,” he said. “I’m here every few months or so.” Working one of his rings off his finger, he handed it to her. It was a plain silver ring with a snake etched into the surface. “Can’t promise for any other ship, but that’ll grant you safe passage onto mine.” He didn’t intend to go fetch the ring if she flung it across the Souk, nor did he stick around to see what she did with it.
Turning away, he left her to now fend for herself with Mischief in her arms and the crate of kittens at her feet. From here, he took the shorter way back to the docks, following the general flow of the crowd, he only had to twist and weave around people a few times before he was back in his normal territory. The moored ships bobbed gently up and down. Lukos made a beeline for the one painted black with red rolled up red sails. The kitten struggled in his hands, badly wanting down, but he held onto her easily enough, cupping her little bottom and keeping her forelimbs against her body with his other hand. As he started up the Aceton’s gangway, Arktos met him at the top, pointing with a huge, meaty finger at the gray, bat eared ball of fluff.
”What’s ‘at?” he eyed the kitten with suspicion.
“This,” Lukos looked at the kitten for a second and then held her out to his first mate, dumping the little cat into Arktos’s massive hands. “Is Artemis. Our new rat hunter. Pet her. She’s the only girl who likes you at the moment.”
“Our rats ain’t that bad, Captain,” Arktos complained, cradling Artemis anyway and petting her absently as Lukos had done. As though to contradict Arktos’s statement, a rat boldly scuttled along the edge of the deck, spotted them, twitched its whiskers, and continued on. Lukos cut a flat look to Arktos and rolled his eyes.
“I’m holding you responsible for her messes,” Lukos said, earning a ”hey!” from Arktos, but, really, Arktos secretly didn’t care. He already had plans to keep the kitten with him in his hammock. It was evident to him that Lukos wasn’t bringing this cat aboard as a personal pet, but meant it for the ship as a whole. A part of the crew, as it were. Which meant that she was Arktos’s to manage. Arktos finally shrugged and said, ”Aye, Captain,” and stumped off towards the hold to see what food scraps he could talk Hedrion, their cook, out of.
Lukos leaned on the railing, looking towards the souk, biting his lower lip, and then, his eyes drifted towards the palace which was just visible from here. The palace….Khema’s face floated before him as he stared hard at the building. Yes...he’d seen her there, he decided. She’d been coy because she likely was one of the Pharaoh’s mistresses, he decided. She probably wasn’t supposed to be out. Nodding to himself and deciding that was where she’d come from, he turned away to trail down to his cabin. Mystery solved.
The cacophony of sounds and plethora of scents that were so familiar to Lukos were jarring to Hatshepsut, who was unaccustomed to such chaotic activity. Everything was quiet and orderly in the palace and even on the days she distributed alms to the poor, she was surrounded by guards and kept away from the boisterousness of the souk. She had been so excited when she had successfully sneaked away that she had hardly noticed what was going on around her. Now her senses were assaulted on all sides and she could hardly wait to return to the safety of her sedan chair.
Glancing toward the area where she had left her attendants, she was pleased that they were still there, passing out coins and food and clothing. They had obviously not noticed her absence or the market would be deserted and her guards would be patrolling the streets searching for her. If she was lucky, she would be able to make it back to her litter without being recognized. If she could keep the kittens quiet, she should attract little attention. Most people were either occupied with their shopping or gathered around the palace contingent.
Lukos seemed relieved to put down his burden. She watched as he scooped up his chosen kitten and held it close. The image of the tall, fearsome pirate cuddling a fluffy little scrap of fur would be forever engraved in her mind. Looks were definitely deceiving. No one would expect a man like him to have a soft spot for felines and that endeared him to her. She wondered how the cat would adjust to life on a ship, but doubted she would ever be able to ask him.
Hatshepsut laughed at his comment that she was more trouble than she was worth. You have no idea, she thought to herself. If Lukos had known her true identity, he probably would have thrown her off his ship and sailed back to Greece, never to return. Kidnapping the Queen of Egypt was a serious offense that was punishable by a slow and painful death. He would have been held responsible for his crew and there would have been nothing she could have done to save him.
Yet luck had been with them and here they were.
“Not a rescue?” she asked. “If you had not intervened, I would have been ravished by a member of your crew. I guess I should consider myself fortunate that it was your ship I was taken to. Other captains would not have been so kind and would have probably claimed me for themselves. Whether you accept my gratitude or not, you have it.”
For some reason, she didn’t understand, she was reluctant to say goodbye, perhaps because she knew that their paths would never cross again. He was handsome, witty, intelligent, and fun to be around. If someone had told her before today that she would enjoy the company of a pirate, she would have laughed in their face. Her view of pirates had been forever changed. They were not nearly as frightening as she had always believed. Oh some of them were, but not this one. He was kind and considerate and had consented to following Mischief instead of depositing Hatshepsut back at the market immediately. Most likely, he had known that she would have only continued the search on her own without any protection whatsoever.
The petite Queen was surprised at Lukos’ offer, believing that he thought her a pest and didn’t want anything more to do with her. If I could take you up on it, I would, she mused. But it is unlikely that I will be able to sneak away again. She watched as he took off one of his rings and handed it to her, claiming that it would give her access to his ship … and presumably to him. He then turned and walked away. “Thank you!” she called, not certain that he would be able to hear her.
She studied the ring for a few moments, one finger absently tracing the snake etched into it. Tucking it into the front of her form-fitting sheath, she looked down at the crate. Mischief was sitting beside it, looking up at her expectantly. One of the kittens had nearly climbed out and she pushed it back inside. Hauling the crate back to her sedan chair was not an option, but she could carry the kittens in her scarf.
Picking them up one by one, she nestled them inside and then tied it over one shoulder. Keeping her eyes lowered and her face in shadow, she walked through the market and around the back to where her chair awaited. Mischief followed at her heels. Stepping inside, she let out the breath she had not known she had been holding. She had made it. Nobody would ever know about her little escapade except for the charming pirate who had shared it with her.
About a half hour later, her bearers lifted the chair and carried it back to the palace. When the curtains were drawn back and her attendants saw the kittens, their Queen told them that she had fallen asleep and when she awakened, the felines were curled up beside her. The servants believed that the little cat family was a divine gift from the gods, and Hatshepsut never told them any differently.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The cacophony of sounds and plethora of scents that were so familiar to Lukos were jarring to Hatshepsut, who was unaccustomed to such chaotic activity. Everything was quiet and orderly in the palace and even on the days she distributed alms to the poor, she was surrounded by guards and kept away from the boisterousness of the souk. She had been so excited when she had successfully sneaked away that she had hardly noticed what was going on around her. Now her senses were assaulted on all sides and she could hardly wait to return to the safety of her sedan chair.
Glancing toward the area where she had left her attendants, she was pleased that they were still there, passing out coins and food and clothing. They had obviously not noticed her absence or the market would be deserted and her guards would be patrolling the streets searching for her. If she was lucky, she would be able to make it back to her litter without being recognized. If she could keep the kittens quiet, she should attract little attention. Most people were either occupied with their shopping or gathered around the palace contingent.
Lukos seemed relieved to put down his burden. She watched as he scooped up his chosen kitten and held it close. The image of the tall, fearsome pirate cuddling a fluffy little scrap of fur would be forever engraved in her mind. Looks were definitely deceiving. No one would expect a man like him to have a soft spot for felines and that endeared him to her. She wondered how the cat would adjust to life on a ship, but doubted she would ever be able to ask him.
Hatshepsut laughed at his comment that she was more trouble than she was worth. You have no idea, she thought to herself. If Lukos had known her true identity, he probably would have thrown her off his ship and sailed back to Greece, never to return. Kidnapping the Queen of Egypt was a serious offense that was punishable by a slow and painful death. He would have been held responsible for his crew and there would have been nothing she could have done to save him.
Yet luck had been with them and here they were.
“Not a rescue?” she asked. “If you had not intervened, I would have been ravished by a member of your crew. I guess I should consider myself fortunate that it was your ship I was taken to. Other captains would not have been so kind and would have probably claimed me for themselves. Whether you accept my gratitude or not, you have it.”
For some reason, she didn’t understand, she was reluctant to say goodbye, perhaps because she knew that their paths would never cross again. He was handsome, witty, intelligent, and fun to be around. If someone had told her before today that she would enjoy the company of a pirate, she would have laughed in their face. Her view of pirates had been forever changed. They were not nearly as frightening as she had always believed. Oh some of them were, but not this one. He was kind and considerate and had consented to following Mischief instead of depositing Hatshepsut back at the market immediately. Most likely, he had known that she would have only continued the search on her own without any protection whatsoever.
The petite Queen was surprised at Lukos’ offer, believing that he thought her a pest and didn’t want anything more to do with her. If I could take you up on it, I would, she mused. But it is unlikely that I will be able to sneak away again. She watched as he took off one of his rings and handed it to her, claiming that it would give her access to his ship … and presumably to him. He then turned and walked away. “Thank you!” she called, not certain that he would be able to hear her.
She studied the ring for a few moments, one finger absently tracing the snake etched into it. Tucking it into the front of her form-fitting sheath, she looked down at the crate. Mischief was sitting beside it, looking up at her expectantly. One of the kittens had nearly climbed out and she pushed it back inside. Hauling the crate back to her sedan chair was not an option, but she could carry the kittens in her scarf.
Picking them up one by one, she nestled them inside and then tied it over one shoulder. Keeping her eyes lowered and her face in shadow, she walked through the market and around the back to where her chair awaited. Mischief followed at her heels. Stepping inside, she let out the breath she had not known she had been holding. She had made it. Nobody would ever know about her little escapade except for the charming pirate who had shared it with her.
About a half hour later, her bearers lifted the chair and carried it back to the palace. When the curtains were drawn back and her attendants saw the kittens, their Queen told them that she had fallen asleep and when she awakened, the felines were curled up beside her. The servants believed that the little cat family was a divine gift from the gods, and Hatshepsut never told them any differently.
The cacophony of sounds and plethora of scents that were so familiar to Lukos were jarring to Hatshepsut, who was unaccustomed to such chaotic activity. Everything was quiet and orderly in the palace and even on the days she distributed alms to the poor, she was surrounded by guards and kept away from the boisterousness of the souk. She had been so excited when she had successfully sneaked away that she had hardly noticed what was going on around her. Now her senses were assaulted on all sides and she could hardly wait to return to the safety of her sedan chair.
Glancing toward the area where she had left her attendants, she was pleased that they were still there, passing out coins and food and clothing. They had obviously not noticed her absence or the market would be deserted and her guards would be patrolling the streets searching for her. If she was lucky, she would be able to make it back to her litter without being recognized. If she could keep the kittens quiet, she should attract little attention. Most people were either occupied with their shopping or gathered around the palace contingent.
Lukos seemed relieved to put down his burden. She watched as he scooped up his chosen kitten and held it close. The image of the tall, fearsome pirate cuddling a fluffy little scrap of fur would be forever engraved in her mind. Looks were definitely deceiving. No one would expect a man like him to have a soft spot for felines and that endeared him to her. She wondered how the cat would adjust to life on a ship, but doubted she would ever be able to ask him.
Hatshepsut laughed at his comment that she was more trouble than she was worth. You have no idea, she thought to herself. If Lukos had known her true identity, he probably would have thrown her off his ship and sailed back to Greece, never to return. Kidnapping the Queen of Egypt was a serious offense that was punishable by a slow and painful death. He would have been held responsible for his crew and there would have been nothing she could have done to save him.
Yet luck had been with them and here they were.
“Not a rescue?” she asked. “If you had not intervened, I would have been ravished by a member of your crew. I guess I should consider myself fortunate that it was your ship I was taken to. Other captains would not have been so kind and would have probably claimed me for themselves. Whether you accept my gratitude or not, you have it.”
For some reason, she didn’t understand, she was reluctant to say goodbye, perhaps because she knew that their paths would never cross again. He was handsome, witty, intelligent, and fun to be around. If someone had told her before today that she would enjoy the company of a pirate, she would have laughed in their face. Her view of pirates had been forever changed. They were not nearly as frightening as she had always believed. Oh some of them were, but not this one. He was kind and considerate and had consented to following Mischief instead of depositing Hatshepsut back at the market immediately. Most likely, he had known that she would have only continued the search on her own without any protection whatsoever.
The petite Queen was surprised at Lukos’ offer, believing that he thought her a pest and didn’t want anything more to do with her. If I could take you up on it, I would, she mused. But it is unlikely that I will be able to sneak away again. She watched as he took off one of his rings and handed it to her, claiming that it would give her access to his ship … and presumably to him. He then turned and walked away. “Thank you!” she called, not certain that he would be able to hear her.
She studied the ring for a few moments, one finger absently tracing the snake etched into it. Tucking it into the front of her form-fitting sheath, she looked down at the crate. Mischief was sitting beside it, looking up at her expectantly. One of the kittens had nearly climbed out and she pushed it back inside. Hauling the crate back to her sedan chair was not an option, but she could carry the kittens in her scarf.
Picking them up one by one, she nestled them inside and then tied it over one shoulder. Keeping her eyes lowered and her face in shadow, she walked through the market and around the back to where her chair awaited. Mischief followed at her heels. Stepping inside, she let out the breath she had not known she had been holding. She had made it. Nobody would ever know about her little escapade except for the charming pirate who had shared it with her.
About a half hour later, her bearers lifted the chair and carried it back to the palace. When the curtains were drawn back and her attendants saw the kittens, their Queen told them that she had fallen asleep and when she awakened, the felines were curled up beside her. The servants believed that the little cat family was a divine gift from the gods, and Hatshepsut never told them any differently.