The sun had long set when Kael-Ankh and his companions returned from the riverbank skirmish. The village lay quiet under a sky thick with stars, the Nile murmuring softly against reeds. Fires burned low in courtyards; children had been sent to bed early, their laughter replaced by the crackle of embers and the occasional distant dog bark. The air carried the scent of cooling mud, roasted barley, and faint myrrh drifting from the shrines.
No grand feast awaited them. No proclamations. Just the unspoken understanding that tomorrow they would step beyond the world of the living.
Merit had prepared the birth-house—Taweret's domain—as a place of rest and farewell. Fresh rushes covered the floor; oil lamps burned with steady golden flames. The hippo-headed goddess statue watched over them, knife in one paw, ankh in the other, her pregnant belly a silent promise that life continued even at the edge of death.
They entered one by one.
Senet first—bow unstrung, quiver set aside. She moved to the far mat, sat cross-legged, and began tuning the small lute she had brought from her home. Soft notes drifted into the room—gentle, steady, like a heartbeat.
Meret followed, khopesh laid carefully on a low table. She stretched, joints popping, then dropped onto a mat with a tired but satisfied sigh. "Feels like we earned a night without anyone trying to kill us."
Nefertari arrived last—sistrum still at her belt, lotus oil glistening on her skin. She paused in the doorway, green-gold eyes sweeping over them, then crossed to Kael and pressed herself against his chest without a word. Her arms wrapped around his waist; her cheek rested over his heart.
Kael held her close. "You're shaking."
"Adrenaline crash," she murmured against his linen. "And… something else."
He kissed the top of her head. "Tell me."
She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. "I keep thinking about what I said yesterday. About one day letting you keep it there." Her hand drifted to her own abdomen—brief, almost unconscious. "Not tomorrow. Not next year. But… one day. When the Red Brotherhood is dust and the Nile runs clear again."
Senet's lute paused mid-note. Meret sat up straighter.
Kael cupped Nefertari's face. "One day," he echoed. "When we come back from the Duat. When we've earned it."
She smiled—small, fierce, vulnerable in a way she rarely allowed. "Promise me you'll make it back to keep that promise."
"I promise."
Senet set the lute aside and rose. Meret followed. They closed the circle around Kael and Nefertari—Senet pressing against his left side, Meret against his right.
No rush. No urgency. Just the slow, deliberate shedding of armor—literal and otherwise.
Senet untied Kael's kilt with gentle fingers, letting the linen fall. Meret slid her hands under his tunic, lifting it over his head, kissing the newly bared skin of his chest as she went. Nefertari stepped back only long enough to let her own dress slip from her shoulders—pooling at her feet in a whisper of fabric—then returned, naked and warm, pressing full-length against him.
They moved to the mats together.
Senet knelt first, guiding Kael down so he lay on his back. She straddled his thighs, leaning forward to kiss him—slow, deep, tongue tracing his lips while her breasts brushed his chest. Meret settled beside them, mouth on his neck, sucking gentle marks along his collarbone, one hand sliding down to stroke him firmly, coaxing him to full hardness.
Nefertari watched for a moment—eyes dark, hungry—then joined. She positioned herself over Kael's face, lowering slowly until his tongue met her. She sighed—long, shuddering—as he licked in slow circles, tasting her arousal, feeling her thighs tremble around his head.
Meret shifted lower, taking him into her mouth—warm, wet, deliberate. She sucked slowly at first, tongue swirling around the head, then deeper, hollowing her cheeks. Senet moved to kiss Nefertari—soft at first, then fiercer—hands cupping her breasts, thumbs circling nipples until Nefertari moaned against her mouth.
The rhythm built naturally—Senet rocking against Kael's tongue, Meret's mouth sliding up and down his length, Nefertari grinding against his face in slow, needy circles.
Senet came first—quiet, trembling, flooding Kael's mouth with her release. She collapsed forward, kissing Nefertari again while Meret continued—faster now, hand stroking what her mouth couldn't reach.
Nefertari followed—hips jerking, a low feline growl escaping as she climaxed against Kael's tongue, thighs clamping tight around his head.
Meret pulled off with a wet pop, grinning wickedly. "My turn."
She straddled him—facing away, back arched beautifully—guiding him inside her with a slow, satisfied sigh. She rolled her hips in deep, grinding circles—ass slapping softly against his pelvis with every downward motion. Senet knelt in front of her, kissing her deeply while fingering her clit in quick, precise circles.
Nefertari moved behind Kael—straddling his chest, leaning down to kiss him, tasting herself on his lips. Her hands roamed his chest, nails lightly raking, whispering praise: "You feel so good inside her… look how she rides you… give her everything…"
Meret's pace quickened—hips snapping harder, moans rising. She came with a sharp cry—inner walls fluttering, body shaking—Senet holding her through it.
Nefertari slid forward then—taking Meret's place. She faced Kael, sinking down slowly—savoring every inch—until she was fully seated. She rode him with deliberate intensity—deep rolls that ground her clit against him on every downstroke, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving red crescents.
Senet and Meret flanked them—Senet kissing Nefertari's throat, Meret sucking marks along Kael's neck, hands roaming everywhere.
Nefertari came hard—back arching, cry wild and unrestrained—clenching tight around him. Kael followed—thrusting up deep, spilling inside her with a guttural groan, hips jerking.
They collapsed in a warm, tangled heap—sweat-slick limbs, soft laughter, gentle kisses traded in the afterglow.
Senet curled against Kael's left side, head on his shoulder.
Meret sprawled across his chest, leg thrown over his thigh.
Nefertari draped over his legs, cheek resting on his hip, fingers tracing lazy patterns on his abdomen.
No grand declarations.
Only the quiet certainty that they would return to this—together.
Ptahhotep entered later, carrying a small oil lamp. He paused at the sight—four bodies entwined, breathing slow and even—then smiled faintly.
"Sleep well," he whispered. "The Duat waits at dawn."
He set the lamp on a ledge and left them in peace.
Kael dreamed of golden fields, black rivers, and a throne where a green-skinned king waited—crook and flail crossed over his chest.
Osiris.
The promise of resurrection.
The threat of annihilation.
He woke before dawn—heart steady, resolve iron.
They rose together—silent, efficient. Armor donned, weapons checked, fragments humming in perfect harmony.
At the wadi's edge, the black stone steps waited.
Kael gripped the Spear of Montu.
Senet nocked an arrow.
Meret spun her khopesh once.
Nefertari shook her sistrum softly—once.
Ptahhotep raised his staff.
Kael spoke the final words:
"Kheper em Duat. We go forth by day… and by night."
He stepped onto the first tread.
Light faded.
Darkness swallowed them.
End of Volume 1
Awakening in the Shadow of the Nile