The days went on with graceless ardour. Too often Ahkmenrah found himself running, his throat burning and the sands piercing the soles of his feet. He had to be prepared, he had to be there for Ramses. Yet a part of him, the small weak insistent part of him, still craved the linen of mummification. Still craved death. But he shut it out.

He had to prove it to them, to himself, that he was strong and competent.

—————

As he woke on the morning of the Heb-Sed, he turned to face the empty bed that used to be Kahmunrah's. For a split second he thought he would be able to turn over and talk to his brother, but as he did so he realised his Kahmunrah's figure was not there. He felt his chest constrict.

Of course, he's not there, he's dead.

As the sunlight hit him through the window, his heart was aquiver. For he remembered.

Today was the day.

He got out of his bed and made his way towards the open window, the kilt around his waist clinging to his already sweating body. It must have been a sultry night. He stepped over to the balcony looking over the city. A little boy was racing across the palace grounds, he must have been a servant boy. The boy looked up to the king and grinned at him. Ahkmenrah found himself smiling back.

Satisfied the boy ran away, no doubt to let his mother know that he had seen the King. Ahkmenrah wondered who he was, who were his parents? He hadn't seen the child before.

"Are you awake my lord?" Came a voice from the door, it was Montu.

"Come now Montu," answered Ahkmenrah. "There is no need for formalities between us."

"In that case this venture of yours is...foolish"

Ahkmenrah had been told this many times. By the officials, his mother, Sabra, even little Ramses seemed to be crying more and more often whenever he was in Ahkmenrah's arms. But none of them could understand why. Only he knew, if only ever so slightly. It was redemption, yes. But there was more. There was something there in that religious festival, that drew him in, something irrevocable, it seemed to manifest destiny itself.

"My ventures are often folly Montu," he answered. "Or have you forgotten the time I slipped a frog in Khufu's favourite dish?"

"It was the best day of my life," Montu smiled, but then his feature hardened. "You don't have to do this."

"I do."

Montu's jaw seemed to tighten and for the first time in his life, Ahkmenrah could see that he was scared.

"I will be fine." Assured Ahkmenrah. "Have you seen many Heb-Seds Montu?"

"No, I am only a few years younger than your father." Answered Montu. "And there have been none in his lifetime. You should get dressed."

"I don't see the point, I'm running naked anyway."

"It's for the ceremonial stripping of the King before the race commences." Reminded Montu. "At least that's how they did it during Narmer's time."

"I think I should wear something of father's then."

Montu smiled. For the first time, Ahkmenrah noticed the linen wrapped bundle in his hands.

"These were your father's coronation clothes." He said laying down the bundle and unwrapping the contents. There lay a cloak, dyed a brilliant blue and a gold embroidered sun-disc at the shoulders, with its rays splayed out across the rest of it. It was attached to a large necklace of Lapis Lazuli that would cover his chest. The kilt was also of a blue colour.

"Blue was Kahmun's favourite color." Said Ahkmenrah.

He didn't say anything further he was too awed for words. Instead, he held the cloak in his trembling hands. They had been his father's and they had been meant for Kahmunrah, instead, it was him. He would wear the cloak and the jewels and kilt.

"Your mother and I found them." Explained Montu. "We thought you might have wanted it, to honour your brother and your father. I remember the first time Merenkahre wore them, he was so nervous. He never thought he'd make a great King."

"Then he became the greatest King the land had ever known or will know." Finished Ahkmenrah.

"Just like you will be."

Ahkmenrah looked up at him. He was trembling all over now and a sudden sensation gripped his throat. Tears slipped down his cheeks.

"Don't you start crying on me now," added Montu. "Come on, let's get you dressed."

—————

The ceremonial sword at her hip was too heavy for her body's liking. But it will serve its purpose, for if she did have to sever Ahkmenrah's head from his shoulders the weight and the blade's seem edge would ensure she wouldn't have to hack at his neck repeatedly. One swift blow and that would be all.

The crowds had gathered and stood outside the gates where the track had been set out. They waited anxiously. There was excited chatter as well as the grumble. Sabra didn't fool herself, there were many here who would be glad to see the King die. But even as the appointed executioner Sabra wasn't one of them. She had killed many kings in her lifetime and she didn't want to add another to her already extensive count. Especially one that she had come to care for.

The gates to the city opened and emerged Ahkmenrah astride his black stallion Narmer. The brilliant royal blue of his cloak billowed as he rode forward. The blue war crown on his brow gleamed in the sunlight along with the glittering broad necklace of Lapis Lazuli which attached to the cloak. His bare torso seemed healthier and more supple than it had been only a few days ago. A bright senseless grin flashed across his face as he dismounted and greeted his mother and his little nephew who awaited him at the beginning of the track.

"He's quite a vision!" Sighed a young girl next to Sabra. "So strong and handsome, he's like one of the gods."

Even Sabra decided she could admit that much to herself. She left her place and approached the King.

"If it isn't my little bringer of death!" Exclaimed Ahkmenrah as he sighted her.

Sabra regarded him and the mischief in his gaze. It would be quite disheartening indeed if those nefarious green eyes would disappear in the void of death. Yet she didn't say so. She gave him an incredulous look which only widened his grin.

"Shall the proceedings begin?" asked Khufu who had joined them, the leopard skin cloak he had fastened around him seemed to glow in the sunlight.

Ahkmenrah shrugged. He turned to his citizens who had all gathered in the one spot behind the ten scribes who would record the happenings of the Heb-Sed. They were quiet and apprehensive.

"Well, you are all most likely wondering why I am resulting to such drastic measures." He told them. "I am not so old and wrinkly to have Heb-Sed you might say. But I have failed you and some may protest some may not. But in my heart, I have failed."

He paused. He breathed. In that breath, he seemed to grow more confident an inner strength seemed to tranquillise his posture to something more relaxed yet infinitely more powerful. Once again Sabra felt she was seeing Kahmunrah before her eyes.

"This Heb-Sed is a wager and I will wager my life. If I fail to circle the city five times within the given hours, my General of Generals, Sabra, will carry out my execution and the line of succession will fall to the son of my brother's body, the son of my soul, Ramses. I declare my mother Queen Regent till he comes of age. But if I succeed, my power will be rejuvenated and I will, I promise you all this, I will not ask for what you will do for me, but what I can do for you. For a King doesn't rule his people by fastening them in chains, but rather he doesn't rule at all. A king will kneel wash the feet of his people. I do not even ask forgiveness but only that if I finish this task you may allow me to serve you."

A low murmur coursed through the crowd but nonetheless they waited.

Khufu stepped forward and offered the libation to the gods, uttering the ancient prayers of Heb-Sed that had been passed from Vizier to Vizier over the course of a thousand generations. When he was finished he handed Ahkmenrah a cup of wine. Drinking it, he felt his body respond curiously, he was sure it was from the strict abstinence that he had placed upon himself. Shepseheret stepped forward handing little Ramses to the nursemaid. She faced her son cupping his face in both hands, Ahkmenrah saw there were tears in her eyes.

"You don't have to do this."

He clasped both her hands, removing them from his cheeks he brought them to his lips and kissed them.

"Mother I must do my duty." He told her firmly he placed her hands up to the blue war crown. "And you must do yours."

And so she removed his crown. Then she unclasped the necklace and the cloak. She removed his rings. She undid his kilt and removed his sandals. In this fashion Ahkmenrah stood in front of his people, stark naked like a new born babe.

He felt so vulnerable. He could feel eyes, scrutinising him, looking for flaws. He had many he knew, but he held his head high. He didn't feel truly embarrassed. Let them think what they want. It was only when his eyes met Sabra's that he felt red creep up to his cheeks. Suddenly a new fear arrested him. What if he was suddenly aroused, as he sometimes was in her presence, there would be no way of hiding it. He had the urge to cover his manhood. But didn't do so. That might be interpreted as weakness, His eyes passed hers hastily and he approached the start of the track.

Take a deep breath. Kahmunrah would say. Straighten up your back. Stand tall, walk along. You can do anything.

Yet anything is nothing when you need helping out. He told his brother.

You can go anywhere from here. Kahmunrah argued.

Anywhere is nowhere of emptiness is where you stand. Ahkmenrah retorted back.

But Kahmunrah didn't answer back. He couldn't. You're clinging to threads of silence, Ahkmenrah told himself.

He looked up the sky and sent his own small prayer to the gods.

Do what you think is right. He told them. His gaze focused on the track before him. Soon the crowd disappeared from his mind. So did his mother, Ramses, Khufu, Sabra, Montu and the rest. There were only him, the track and the sun beating on his back.

Those threads of silence he realised had led him here.

——————

Here is yet another installment. How do you think this race will end? 

Some lines in this chapter pay homage to Karise Eden's Threads of Silence. I had conceived this scene listening to this song many years ago. I would love if you listened to it.

- Sargun