Crucible of Fate

called by her title, called “consort.” Mikhail had found the word sekhem and affirmed what it meant. I announced to everyone that it was how my mate was to be addressed.
    Jamal Hassan had been disgraced because of his new lord, the new priest, and when he arrived at the villa, secretly, two weeks later, I met him with Yuri, Mikhail, and Taj, and I accepted Jamal’s vow of fealty. He pledged himself and his men to the service of the semel-aten. Yuri removed the ban against Jamal being in my presence alone and welcomed him as a brother. Jamal was more touched than I thought he would be, as evidenced by the way he nodded quickly, held Yuri’s wrist very hard, and didn’t speak.
    It had been fun to watch.
    Taj, too, had been overwhelmed, stunned but ecstatic to have the support of the Shu. No semel-aten had ever taken the priest’s elite guard from him. It was a coup, and I knew Kovo felt the loss and blamed me. I was simply waiting for the other shoe to fall.
    It seemed as though I spent my life in anticipation of what would come next, and not simply from a man with murderous intentions toward me. It hit me as I walked with Kabore at my side, passing street vendors and restaurants, the aromas mixing with the sticky summer air, heavy and humid, that I was always waiting for someone to leave me, fail me, or question me. It made me second-guess myself constantly. Even Koren, who had apparently come to woo me, thought I was not in my right mind. It was tiring, hearing about your failings from those closest to you and then hearing praise from strangers. The only one who didn’t do it, who didn’t second-guess me or treat me like an idiot, was Yuri. And I loved him for it.
    “My lord!”
    I twisted around and Jamal was there, his face ashen, his eyes dark and worried as he strode toward me with five of his men in tow.
    “Are you kidding? I haven’t even been gone a half an hour, what could have possibly happened?”
    “We have received word that Elham El Masry has arrived, and he has the semel of the tribe of Wepwawet with him, Rahab Bahur.”
    I waited.
    “My lord?”
    He had obviously expected a reaction. “I’m sorry. Who is Rahab whatever and why should I care?”
    “You don’t know who Rahab Bahur is?” Kabore demanded from my left.
    My attention was now on him, as Jamal had thrown his arms up, apparently defeated by my overwhelming lack of knowledge.
    Kabore was stunned.
    “Spit it out,” I ordered.
    “My lord, the tribe of Wepwawet deals in oil and natural gas, and those are the legal riches of the tribe. Rahab also has many pursuits that are not….”
    “Legal,” I finished for him.
    “Yes.”
    “So he’s a thug.”
    “No, he’s the head of crime syndicate that deals in drugs and people—”
    “You mean prostitution.”
    “Yes. He also moves guns and—”
    “He’s a criminal.”
    “Well, yes, but—”
    “And what was the role of the semel-aten in his life?”
    He cleared his throat. “He and Ammon had an understanding that as long as his interests did not bring any human interaction or interest he could do as he pleased.”
    “But? I feel a ‘but’ coming on.”
    “Now he is here with a champion to challenge Crane in the pit for his place of maahes. His tribe is the smallest of all, but it is the only one I know of that is not based in a town or region but more as a syndicate. Members of the tribe of Wepwawet live in every country of the world and work as operatives, nothing more.”
    The fact of the matter was that he was not a true semel, not a leader, but the head of a crime family. His was a conglomerate; it was not a tribe, not a family in any sense. They didn’t hunt together or ever gather. They swore allegiance to a warlord, not a king who would protect them, lead them, guide and nurture them. I was right—he was a thug.
    “My lord,” Kabore almost pleaded. “You must take this challenge seriously. Why would a man like Rahab Bahur align himself with Elham El Masry? Why does he want to claim Ebere for his new friend? By killing Crane Adams, what does the man gain?”
    “Access to me,” I confirmed. “Obviously your crime lord wants Elham to first be maahes, and then semel-aten.”
    “Yes,” Jamal agreed. “That’s exactly what he wants.”
    “At least we know now.” I shrugged.
    Kabore grilled me. “And you’re not afraid of this?”
    “Have you met Rahab’s man? Do you think he can beat Crane’s?”
    “I don’t know. I have yet to meet Crane’s