Shiri by D.S. Page B

likely to get off this one. “What if the Gyptos capture you again, they’ll have troops all over the country scouring it for survivors of the battle. They might ask you questions, they might use means to persuade you to talk.”
    “You mean … you mean they will not be leaving?”
    “Pharaoh is not one to leave his enemy half beaten,” he said. “He’ll kill every man that didn’t keep his lips planted firmly on the ground, he’ll burn every village if need be and won’t rest till he’s hunted down the last rebel survivors. And more than that, word is he means to have every first-born in bondage.”
    Shiri bit her lip. I’m a first-born. “And this is what I’m to be released to? To go back to the ruins of my village and wait for them to return?”
    “Well what am I supposed to do about it?”
    “You can tell me your name for starters.”
    He said it, even though he had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t. “Josef”
    “Josef!” her eyes opened wide. “Not ... not the Prince? The Shepherd King’s son?” It was . She could see the King in his hair, those eyes, “And I...” She was suddenly embarrassed. The Prince and I called him a donkey ... a stupid, fat, ugly donkey. She curtsied quickly, her cheeks scarlet, “B...begging your pardon ... m’lord ... Your Grace ... I didn’t mean ... well what I meant was...” A long awkward pause, and then she looked at him again, “But ... the Prince was killed in the battle! I heard the fat one say it to the soldier that caught me.”
    He shrugged. “No, that was another.”
    Almost imperceptibly a strange look clouded her eyes. At first it was a just the ghost of suspicion, but slowly it grew; grew until the suspicion turned to certainty. She glared at him, suddenly aggressive. She came forward pointing at his money pouch. “How came you by that? How came you to laugh and joke with the Gyptos as your people are whipped and sold like animals?”
    “Well . .. Pharaoh ... he rewarded me for...”
    “He gave you coin ! He ... He paid you off!”
    “Aye, well, no … it’ s complicated ... I did not betray my people, this is not what you think.”
    “You tell me what I think now?”
    “No, I...”
    “ You take the menfolk of Yaham so she is undefended. Did you know it was their plan to steal into the village all along?” He opened his mouth, but the girl gave him no chance to answer. “You tarry with Aratama so as to avoid the fight, and now you celebrate and take coin from the Gyptos.”
    He turned away so she wouldn ’t see her words hit home. “Aye, that’s about the size of it ... I daresay I couldn’t have served Pharaoh any better if I tried.” He slumped into his stool and buried his face in a mug of heady ale.
    They stayed like that for a while. He, sitting under a cloud of doom, determined to drown his sorrows, she, standing there, gazing at him with disgust. Then after what seemed like an age he slowly rotated and looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of treachery. And then, all at once, he gushed out his story. It was like a dam had burst and in the flood he held nothing back.
    He explained how Aratama had betrayed him, how he had fought with Yuya, and how in desperation he had donned his robes and taken his place. He told her everything, even his plan to go to Heliopolis and make a claim for Yuya’s birthright and maybe, just maybe gain enough influence to ease the plight of the people he’d failed. He could achieve nothing in Palestine. Every minute he stayed offered the risk of being recognised, and look how easily the first one of his own people he’d spoken to had seen through him. Only in Egypt, where Yuya hadn’t been seen since he was a child did he have a chance. Only from there could he gain some form of revenge on the man who killed his father, only from there could he help them.
    She stared at him as he spoke. His eyes burned with the intensity of his words and in that inferno she saw truth. But still she was