He was barely awake when dawn had laid forth its roses upon the horizon. Hands still clutching that of Kahmunrah's. The mutterings of prayers had become almost routine for him now. He fought furiously to keep his eyes open, scrutinizing any sign of wakefulness.

Then he saw it, the flutter of eyes revealing their deep ancient brown depths. A groan escaped from Kahmunrah's lips, his head rolled to the side. His eyes then opened and he smiled when he was able to register that his brother was with him.

"Was it that bad?" he managed to ask.

Ahkmenrah smiled and shook his head through his tears "No it was worse"

"Good..." with that Kahmunrah let out a relaxed sigh and frowned. "Is there any water? Or did everything dry up while I was out."

Ahkmenrah laughed at what he knew was a pathetic attempt at a joke "Here I'll help you up...we reserved a bowl of it just for you."

Kahmunrah found it strange. Having to reserve water. He had taken it for granted before, the source of all life; it had never been so scarce that it had to be reserved. But nonetheless he was helped up and he took the water in hand. He drank slowly, letting the cool sweet water slide down his throat, relishing in how it spread through his body, refreshing every limb of his body. He felt as if he was drinking heaven itself.

"What happened?" he asked after a while "Where are we?"

"Well we're are in a tomb of some civilization long lost. Sabra rescued us and can believe it? It's barely been a month and already a resistance has been formed!"

"I'm not surprised. Considering Sabra is involved..." Then he was cut off as he felt something beside him. He rummaged under the threadbare sheet and found it. Bloody but still well intact. "I still have this?"

"Yes, we tried to take it away...you could have killed yourself in your sleep...but you put up a great fight. Even the combined force of Sabaf and I couldn't take it away."

"I've always been stronger..."

"But not this strong..."

"You're just hurt because you can never be as strong as I am."

"Oh shut up!"

Kahmunrah chuckled. But the movement made him ache and he winced. Ahkmenrah gave him a concerned look and helped him lay back down.

"Get some rest." He told him. "We have a lot to do."

Kahmunrah barely had time to respond when he closed his eyes and sleep overcame him.

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Sabra sat across from Khufu, there were nine of them sitting in a circle. Ahkmenrah was there as well.

"During the last operation ten people were taken prisoner by the guards, one died, one is recovering from torture, but none the less, we were successful." Sabra started.

Montu spoke up "Ten prisoners...we've lost ten men! All for what..."

"Montu I know that you are angry...but you must understand that..."

"That what? This is right? We should just sit here on our asses, while ten men will possibly be slaughtered? All just to save three men. Woman...we've lost more than what we've gained."

"We can't risk it..."

"Excuses, excuses. Ladies and gentlemen this is what I call inequality. What is so important about the three of them compared to ten of our final soldiers? Tell me that?"

Murmuring erupted from the seated and Ahkmenrah bowed his head. He really was worthless.

"You're right." Said a new voice. The murmuring was cut short, sharply at that. A deathly silence ensued. Kahmunrah emerged from the entrance. "You're right Montu, we really aren't all that special."

"Kahmun? Aren't you supposed to be resting?" called out Ahkmenrah, concerned at how his older brother was holding himself, he couldn't stand up straight.

"I heard shouting." Kahmunrah answered simply. Then he looked at Montu in the eyes, black eyes burning and flashing with an emotion no one could place. "You're right Montu, were are really not very special. I feel a sense of guilt every time I think that ten men have potentially sacrificed their life to save me. Me of all people, a man not even worthy to be chosen for the throne. Do you really think I don't know that?"

His words entranced them all, like how a full moon can do so on a cool sweet night, the stars twinkling by.

"Do you really think that I don't feel pain every time I think of it?" he continued his voice filled with raw untamed emotion "Because it does cause me pain, more pain than any of you. You may lament the loss of ten men, but I will be drowning in guilt for the rest of my life knowing that I...not anyone else but I was the cause of their deaths. All I want to do is save them. I do not want them to suffer. But more will die because them. I'm not saying they are worth less than me. I just don't want this on anyone's conscience, neither do I want us too loose the few people we have. I don't want anyone else to die, I know it is inevitable. But death has surrounded my life far too much." He finished with a deep breath.

There was nothing but silence. His words had moved them beyond any rational means. Only a second ago had they been doubting him and his brother and the whole mission. Montu was slightly moved too, but he stopped the empathy from growing into vines snaking around his heart. He burnt them with flames of anger. He quickly got up.

"Go ahead!" he shouted. "Believe him! He'll doom us all...that snake with a honeyed tongue."

With that he left.

Kahmunrah felt black spots invade his vision and stabbing pain shot through his abdomen. He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced in pain. Ahkmenrah appeared beside him and supported him.

"You shouldn't have gotten up..." he muttered. "You shouldn't have come. You should have rested"

"And what hear father's legacy insulted? Never...I will not be the weak link."

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It had been fifteen days since they had been captured. One of them was Ramses' father Ammon. His strong dark figure was imposing and strong, but now it was a mere skeleton compared to his former self. His face was timeless, he neither looked his age, or older or younger. He was just Ammon, but weakened.

For the last fourteen days they had gone without much food and a scant amount of water. They were literally walking skeletons. This is what usually happens when you are worked to the bone with hardly any food or water.

Among them was a fifteen-year-old boy by the name of Tchanun he was the youngest of them all. He was already weak from the work and scant food, but he instilled hope in them all, with his lively spirit.

One day then ten of them were lined up and bound, spears pointed them. One of the Sumerian soldiers barked for them to move. This soldier was Hurin, the one who had performed the task of the killing of Ramses, Nailah and Ptah.

So they moved in single file out of the palace and out of the city. Ammon noted that they took the most secretive ways out of the city.

The heat was relentless. Sweat dripping down every part of their bodies, soaking their loincloths, the only piece of clothing they had on. The sweat wouldn't even cool they down, they turned hot in the suns heat before they could fulfill their task of cooling the body. The sand beneath their feet burnt like hot coals. It hadn't even been an hour when their throats burned and their tongues were as dry as papyrus.

Tchanun finally spoke up "Where are you taking us?"

The butt of the spear met his stomach. He doubled over and groaned. Once he regained his balance and consciousness he was roughly shoved and made to walk again. Already a bruise was forming in that area.

"Keep walking!" Hurin barked.

This was the very first death march in history.

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Hey guys how was it? It was slightly short but I hope you enjoyed it. Remember to vote and comment.

Consider this early update my birthday present to you! (Even though it is technically my birthday) Today I turn legal (eww) and I get to learn how to drive (yay!)

The last update was also on my parent's anniversary, what a coinkidink!

Anyways I hope you enjoyed and thanks for you have done!