Chapter Eighteen

Am Heh barely looked up when he heard the knock, continuing to read over the scroll with even less interest. It was the pause before entry that caused him to lower the papyrus, his dark eyes observing the meek entrance of the young man. The face was not one he recognised but, unlike the others, the aura emanating from the mortal was calmer, perhaps nerves.

He gestured to the table nearby, half judging each movement the new slave made.

"Put it there," he instructed placidly, unable to look back to the papers he was reading, the mortal having piqued his curiosity. "And wait for a moment, there may be other things I need you to do..."

Ishaq opened his mouth to reply, snapping it shut quickly as he remembered his instructions. He gave an awkward bow instead, faltering under the weight of the jug again before making his way over and relieving himself of the burden. Automatically he rolled his shoulders, cramped from tension before carefully pouring the contents shakily into the glass.

Am Heh looked away, a more charitable gesture to save the new slave from making a fool of himself. He well remembered the 'amusing' tale of Thoth's new slave who dropped and spilled more than he balanced.

Thoth might not mind tidying up but he did.

"You are new here, aren't you?" He asked apathetically as he glanced over. "I don't recall seeing you anyway."

He would certainly remember the aura, more gentle than any of the others. His other slaves and upper servants had a brashness to them, even when they had first begun. Whilst they accepted their duty to be there they made it clear for some time that it had not been of their choosing.

Thankfully, the older staff quelled them, they still had their life albeit in a different manner.

"You don't need to be so nervous. I don't allow ill fate to befall those here." The words came unbidden and he cursed himself as soon as they left him and swiftly, he covered himself, adding more coolly. "Unless I order it myself or you are foolhardy. Then you will have something to dread."

"My name is Ishaq, it is a pleasure to serve a God," Ishaq responded quietly, unsure whether replying had been what the deity wanted. When no rebuttal came, he continued. "I was offered to Renenūtet but she had enough servants of her own."

He gave a soft smile as he spoke, calming him only slightly, when in reality he was terrified, his knuckles white on the handle of the jug.

"Ishaq..."

Am Heh nodded, consigning the name to the never-ending list. Fortunately, he had been blessed, or cursed, with a decent memory. He watched idly, feigning interest in the papyrus map he had been studying ad pondering why he'd said anything. Normally he allowed slaves to fall on their own swords and then coldly suggest what they should have done.

He dismissed the idea as anything more than that Ishaq was clearly younger and far more innocent to either world than the others who got sent there. Until now, all he would have known was the care and protection of his parents and his birth home, working alongside those who he knew and ignorant to the slavery and pain that drained the spirit like a leech.

Tracing a finger over the paper the area lit up, vanishing from sight. What that meant would be unknown to mortals and perhaps it was best to leave it like that. Certain areas had piqued the displeasure of many Gods but Am Heh was more overt in showing it. Humans would never learn the woes of heresy if nothing happened to them.

The way the God whispered his name sent shivers down Ishaq's spine in a similar manner as when his teachers had repeated excuses he had given. Putting them into memory to be used against him later, and Lords knew they did. But they were mere mortals. His new master held powers that would destroy even to soul, sending them to black oblivion.

"How are you with hounds?"

Ishaq jolted as he gathered himself from his thoughts, forgetting his instructions of keeping his eyes on the floor and meeting the brilliant orbs that surveyed him.

"Dogs?" He swallowed, his voice sounding like a frog was caught in his throat. "Well, I cannot say I've had much experience, great one. I've always been a little fearful of them after I was chased as a toddler."

The dog had been playful rather than aggressive, not much more than a puppy himself. The baker had found him and decided he would be ideal to guard his precious grains after a spate of theft. It hadn't even been a large dog, but to a three-year-old it had seemed like a behemoth.

"I don't have cats like some of the others," Am Heh said, seemingly disregarding the subtle objection. "I have hunting dogs. Treat them with respect and there's little to worry about, unless you look like an antelope. You might have a grace about you but there's a marked difference in appearance." He leaned back. "Your duty would simply be feeding and grooming them, the latter they don't need a lot of."

Ishaq shifted and looked at his feet. "I am certain I can do that, great one. What..." He clapped his hand over his mouth before the question left him, feeling a heat burning his cheeks.

"Since you are new and you realised your error, I will overlook that small transgression," Am Heh looked fixedly at him. "As for whatever question you have, I am sure you will find whatever answers you seek along the way."

Before Ishaq could thank him, the door was knocked, echoing in the room.

The God looked over, beckoning for the waiting male to enter. A tall, lanky creature, eyes so dark they could be seen as black. Scars littered his exposed flesh, remnants of this life and the one he had come from.

Zuberi had been the son of a warrior, used to the reverence and awe given rather than giving it himself. However, after the defeat of his tribe, he had been the perfect offering to give for good fortune. Unlike Ishaq he had made his resentment known with several curses and injuries inflicted. The Goddess had not been entirely pleased by that attitude and even less at the bloody mess he looked.

She had also mentioned the darkness that lay in the heart, that the tribe worshipped another somehow.

Am Heh had taken that into account but had so far seen and heard nothing more than gossip or the normal irritations.

"I just wanted to inform you that the dogs are running low on meat. Should I send one out...master?" The voice was pinched, forced and lacking the desire to please.

"Send Bahadur. He gets it done within minutes and also doesn't end up injured."

Zuberi gave a stiff bow before looking curiously at Ishaq who has been hoping his silence would mean he remained unperceived. "Since I have little else to do, I could also show your new arrival about?" He offered after a small pause. Anything to gain any sort of freedom. "It may help..?"

Am Heh arched an eyebrow, a crooked smirk fleetingly appearing. "I've never believed in miracles but it seems I witness one now. You normally do your best not to do anything at all." He twiddled his fingers. "Go ahead, but bear in mind if anything goes wrong it will be you who I blame." He fleetingly looked at Ishaq. "I will summon you later."

Zuberi smiled tautly and indicated for the young man to follow, closing the door as quietly as he could.

"I don't need much guidance, thank you," Ishaq said with as much politeness as he could muster. "I was given quite a lot by the chief servant in the kitchens."

"I suppose you were," Zuberi glared at him. "I only said it to get away more quickly. What's your name anyway?"

"Ishaq," Ishaq stiffened. The man gave off a tainted aura that made him wary. "Your own?"

"Zuberi," Zuberi answered curtly, glancing back towards the door to make sure it was closed before smiling forcibly. "He seems to like you." There was an icy coating to his words. "I've not known him act that genially toward a new servant before, he's often quite critical...mind you," he shrugged "maybe you just did things right, a lot make silly errors that grate on everyone's nerves."

They were understandable. This was a strange place and one that took some time to adjust to. Especially with the knowledge they were being truly watched by Gods. Even one servant, a former slave girl of the Pharaoh, said it was more nerve-wracking. The King might be closer to the Gods but he was still but a mortal.

He sighed. Trying to swallow his resentment. He was a bitter man, aiming far above his station and angry when he did not succeed. Trying harder did not occur to him, coming from a family where achievement was a right, at least until business fell and he ended up here in hopes of reviving it.

"Anyway, I will be good enough to say that my offer does stand if you have no other option. And word of warning," he chuckled, one of actual amusement. "Never annoy the cook, trust me, she isn't an enemy you want to have! Not unless you like finding unsavoury tastes in your food. She knows all the bitter and unpleasant herbs and seeds to use if she's upset. Never anything dangerous but the taste lasts..."

He wrinkled his nose at the memory. It took over a day to get rid of it.

"He said something about taking care of his hounds," Ishaq dared. "I haven't seen them as yet, are they as fearsome as those depicted in art?"

Zuberi held back a smirk at the wide eyes gazing in hope of reassurance. He too had seen the images of the jackals kept by Set and of other fantastic beasts held by the Gods only. The temptation to exaggerate that fear, to create strife and more unhappiness to the lesser man was overwhelming.

Yet it would surely only bounce back at him. Reluctantly he shook his head.

"In appearance some of them are, at least those who go and retrieve the meat they consume but to their handlers even they aren't anything to worry about. The others are standard hunting dogs that you will have seen your King and other hunters keep."

"That is a relief," Ishaq visibly relaxed, the pinched visage settling into one of complacency. "Those, I can handle and admire as well."

"You're honoured," Zuberi turned before Ishaq could ask why. "The dogs don't spill blood around here."

Only the bull.