Bhallar's eyes stung. The storm was unexpected and furious. Taking shelter behind his camel, with one hand, he held on to his travel companion cum means of transport with his dear life, while the other remained fisted over his heart. "I am sorry, Zor. I should have paid attention to the weather forecast at the outpost." He thought wistfully.

The man, who was barely twenty-three, was uncle Sharre, the royal physician's first hand. It meant that when the old man, who was his grandfather's age, was busy taking care of the royal family, it was Bhallar's responsibility to act in his stead.

Sharre, who was his deceased father's close friend, was not only his current employer but was also his mentor and benefactor.

***

After his friend had died unexpectedly due to a 'blood related' illness, the royal physician had saved Atmoo's family: Bhallar (his son), Mayara (his wife), and Mayeen (his daughter, who was five at that time), from death by starvation (or worse).

The New Kingdom was not safe for the poor, especially those who had young daughters at their homes and no breadwinner they could rely on.

When the family was struggling to make ends meet, Sharre, who had seen glimpses of Bhallar's intelligence in the way he had picked up tricky skills just by observing his father, who was the physician's first hand before passing away, had invited the boy over to the New Kingdom's capital, Qulsairis. His belief in Bhallar's talent was cemented after he tested the best and brightest minds in the kingdom and decided that his friend's son was the worthiest of the lot.

Knowing full well the state of affairs at Bhallar's home, the physician had taken it upon himself to take care of the financial needs of the family while the boy stayed in the capital for the duration of his training.

***

As the storm ravaged around the young physician, he recalled an old conversation that he had had with his sister before leaving Zhpobu, their hometown, and going to Qulsairis to start his training to become a doctor under Sharre's supervision.

'Brother, I overheard mother asking you to visit uncle Sharre. I was wondering if you could bring back some Violet Genoises?'

'Mayeen, did you finish it already!?'

'I am sorry, dada*. I didn't mean to, but I couldn't help it.'

'Mayeen, you know that we can't afford them anymore. Mama* got upset last time when she found out that I got them. She thought they were for me. Tell me, Mayeen, were they for me?'

'No. But that's because you don't like them!'

Bhallar smiled fondly at the memory. He loved the violet-colored candies as much as his sister, if not more, but he had never corrected her.

Mayeen's happiness outweighed all else.

The young physician pursed his lips, trying to stop them from trembling. He reminisced how his younger sister had pouted at his statement.

It was her go-to weapon when she wanted to manipulate her brother. The young girl knew the power it held and used it on special occasions like this one.

Bhallar waited till his face stopped stinging before opening his eyes a smidgen. Finally, the storm had subsided, but it was not feasible to resume his homeward journey just yet. He made himself comfortable, resting his back against his trusty travel companion, and went back to his musings.

'Still, you should have made them last longer, Mayeen. They are not easy to come by, you know?'

'I know. But that's the only thing that makes me feel like everything is as it was. It reminds me of when we were happy. It makes me happy.'

Bhallar closed his eyes, releasing saltwater that voiced the emotions he had hidden from the world, including his mother, for the past six months.
It was not the first time he had done it, and he knew it won't be his last. "I miss you, Mayeen," he whispered, wiping his runny nose on the sleeve of his faded blue tunic.

Tapping the pouch that was hiding under the front of his robes towards his left, he made sure that the candies that he was carrying were still there.
The violet-colored candies were a big hit with his younger patients, who, just like his sister, loved the sweet and sour delight. 

He didn't relish them as he did before. Nonetheless, he always carried them close to his heart.

Baba*, I failed to take care of your precious daughter; do you hate me now? Will it be enough to redeem myself just by fulfilling the other promise I made to you?

Bhallar's mind drifted to the time when not even a day after Atmoo's death the news of Pharaoh Re-nefer's passing had spilled in the narrow streets of Zapobu, and any interest people had to find out the reason for his father's untimely death that had 
waned and turned into something ugly and untrue.

The young man could now understand why everyone, including his neighbors and friends, had shunned his family, suspecting that the pharaoh's death was somehow linked to his father's. After all, his father was the last one to see the great ruler alive.

***

Tutuamen, Re-nefer's only son, had inherited the throne soon after the latter's demise. What had come as a surprise to the citizens was that the succession was rather peaceful. Many contemplated that a bitter battle for the throne, sooner or later, was inevitable, since Pharaoh Ra-nefer's eldest and only son was born sickly.

Since coming into the world, no one except his immediate family, doctors, and palace maids had seen him. Rumor had it that the boy looked nothing like either of his parents.

Surprisingly, no one challenged Tutuamen. At the coronation feast where all notable houses were in attendance, the young man showed his face to his people for the first time. And what a face it was.

The golden crown with twin serpopard intertwined at their necks sat majestically on the young man's head like it belonged there. His large brown eyes, thick arched brows, a prominent aquiline nose, and blood-red (full) lips left all the women and some men in awe of Tutuamen, who walked to the throne his father had recently vacated and ordered the feast to begin.

***

Bhallar shook his head. "I will work hard. I won't disappoint you again, baba. Your warning is coming to pass. I can see it every day when I step out on the street. Our people are suffering, and the Pharaoh refuses to hear our pleas. Don't worry, baba, I will make our home safe again." he glanced at the brilliantly lit night sky, "Mayeen, I will avenge you, come what may. I will make those responsible for your death suffer."

***

Six months ago, Bhallar was a happy man. Having finished his training and becoming a full-fledged doctor, he had returned home. Sharre had given him a few months off to spend time with the family he hadn't seen much over the past ten years.

The happiness hadn't lasted long, as barely a few days into his well-earned vacation, Mayeen had gone missing, and Bhallar had left his mother home alone to look for his sister.

As days had turned into weeks, the chances of finding Mayeen had grown slimmer and slimmer. And finally, one evening, almost five months after Mayeen's disappearance,  while taking a break on the outskirts of Zapobu, he had overheard a group of (what he presumed were) bounty hunters discussing how one of the girls they had caught in Zapobu had tried (without success) to escape so many times that by the time she was brought in the presence of the head eunuch (who was scouting for concubines for Pharaoh Tutuamen's harem), he was so disgusted with what she had tried to do that he had beheaded her right there.

Anger bubbled up inside Bhallar's heart as he recalled the conversation he had overheard in the tavern that day.

'What a waste. At least the eunuch should have waited for us to fuck that bitch first, right?'

'I was there too. The girl's beauty was no joke, I tell you.'

'She was a feisty one, wasn't she?'

'Oh yes. Thinking about that girl is enough to make me hard.'
Bastards!

'Did you by chance catch her name?'

'Of course, how can I forget that name!? The bitch was called Mayeen. The last time I stuffed her in the cage, I saw a mark an inch or so below her right earlobe. Believe me, lads, she was a fine specimen. Not getting a chance to fuck her is my life's greatest regret.'

Bhallar felt his heart break all over again. He had been reliving this memory over and over again for the past few days.

That day, as the conversation dwindled down, Bhallar had walked out of the tavern with no doubt in his mind that his beloved sister was dead. However, when it was time to disclose it to his mother, he had lied and told her that he wanted to widen his search for Mayeen.

There was something he needed to do. A promise he had to keep.

The death of his sister at the head eunuch's hand had reminded him of his father's warning, and he had thrown himself into work.

He knew what he was attempting to do would probably end in his demise, but that prospect didn't scare him anymore. The Pharaoh had already taken what was most precious to him: Mayeen.

The first step to achieving this almost impossible task was to become Tutuamen's most trusted man. Bhallar was confident in his abilities.

Sharre, who was getting on in years, had all but told him that the head physician's post would be his sooner or later, but Bhallar's patience was running thin; he needed his mentor's post, sooner, rather than later. So after he was done assisting Sharre for the day, he threw himself into learning all he could about blood and its (as of yet) unknown secrets.

Every now and then, Sharre came home from court and regaled his first-hand with gossip about the ministers, nobles, traders, etc. However, as soon as Bhallar asked about Tutuamen, he shut up and dismissed the latter. This kind of attitude made the young physician suspect that his mentor knew more about Tutuamen than he let on. Still, not wanting to look overly curious, the young man never pushed for more information.

Today, after doing a follow-up on a little girl that Sharre had instructed him to visit, Bhallar was feeling especially nostalgic. Maybe it was because the child had remained him of his precious sister when she had gobbled down the candies as if she was starving for days.

Bhallar's eyes finally ran dry. He patted his chest and smiled fondly as the young child's excited antics danced across his mind's eyes. "I couldn't save my sister, but I can try and protect all those like her." he vowed, mounting Zor, whom he had acquired recently from a rent-a-camel booth next to 'the bread-and-board hostel for boys' he was presently staying at.

As Bhallar rode towards the place he had never called home (even though he had stayed there now for more than half of his life) little did the young physician know that a 'WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE' poster, issued by the royal household, with his sister's face on it, would appear before him less than twelve hours later, pushing him to take a drastic step that would change the course of his career as well as life.

After all, going from an exceptional doctor to a bounty hunter was not something that he ever wanted or intended to do, but his younger sister just had to go and get herself on the wanted poster. Now, he had no choice but to get to her first, because everyone else wanted her dead.

Unaware of what fate had in store for him, Bhallar reached 'The Bumpy Axe'. He huffed at the signboard that someone (probably one of the good-for-nothing youths from the wealthy neighborhoods interested in everything else except studying) had toyed with.

Bhallar, the ever-so-decent man, borrowed a stool, climbed up, and changed the name on the board from 'The Bumpy Sex' to its given one. Then, trudging his tired feet and heavy heart to his room on the first floor of the inn, he threw himself on his bed and cried himself to sleep.

[Chapter word count:2091]

Glossary:

Dada- A term of endearment used by younger brothers or sisters to address their elder brother.

Baba- Father

Mama- Mother