- Just released today. An alternate ancient Egypt with no pyramids or the Sphinx but with action and adventure with the avatars of the three gods worshipped aiding the hero and heroine.
Just released, Bast's Warrior is the first book in a trilogy involving my love of ancient Egypt with a bit of a twist. There is a reason for making this an alternate world story. The other twist is while the story could be considered a time travel, it really isn't since the characters don't return to an ancient Egypt we know and have many artifacts from. The why for the change is "there were no camels in Egypt during the time I had targeted for the series." I so wanted camels meaning I had to find a place where they could exist. Enter an alternate world.
Tira is the modern heroine who is sent back to this world. The time is around the ending of the Hyksos, mysterious invaders who are never really identified in what is known about this ancient world. Because of my interest in Astrology, the means of sending her back is by casting her horoscope and the spinning of a giant horoscope wheel.
So Here's a look at the Heroine. Tira wanted three things in life and she had little chance of gaining any of them. She wanted to be financially independent. She wanted to go to
The last desire brought memories of this morning’s quarrel. The money squirreled away to see them through
the rest of the month was gone. “Luci, why?”
“You don’t understand,” Luci screamed.
True. She didn’t understand why her sister needed to escape
into a drugged stupor instead of studying and working to step onto the road
leading from the slums. Tira’s hands stung with the memory of slapping her
sister. And the words she’d shouted as she slammed out of the apartment echoed
in her thoughts. “I hate you. I wish you were dead.” A shudder rumbled through
her body. She hadn’t meant those words. As soon as she reached the apartment
she would tell Luci.
With a sigh she turned back to the museum display. The
Egyptian artifacts awed her. For a short time she allowed the beauty of the
objects to carry her into dreams of pyramids and temples, of gods and pharaohs
and of digging in the earth to uncover treasures of the past.
The dream hovered beyond her grasp. Her chances of gaining a
position on a dig in Egypt
were slim. Positions were avidly sought by students who had chosen the right
colleges and the right professors. Those choices had been beyond her
financially. She sucked in a breath. Instead of adventure, when the summer
ended, she would take her place in front of a classroom teaching history at an
inner city high school.
A glance at her watch said dreamtime was over. She had to
reach the apartment in time to change for her evening shift at a restaurant
several blocks from the cramped fifth floor efficiency she shared with her
older sister. Once again, flash moments from the morning’s quarrel exploded in
Tira’s thoughts. She’d been so upset she’d missed her morning martial arts
session at the local center.
Tira cast her dreaming self aside and donned the role of
practical sister. She hurried to the exit and stepped from the past into a
steamy August day. Heat shimmered from the sidewalk. The air hung heavy and
filled with the odors of the city and the noises of traffic. She strode along
the crowded area taking advantage of every opening.
Ten days to dream. Ten days to walk the halls of the
museum. Ten days to study the artifacts that had become her lodestones. She
breathed the aromas of real time, spices of cooking foods, metallic scents of
passing traffic and the odors of people, some pleasant and some not.
Several blocks from the apartment building the crowds
thinned. In an alley she glimpsed furtive movements in the dark shadows. She
hurried past. On the corner across the street a group of gang members gathered.
She sucked in a breath and held her head high. For all her twenty three years
she’d avoided the gangs. As she strode past she heard the usual crude remarks
about her body and her attitude.
Get a life, she wanted to scream.
When she saw the ambulance and two cop cars in front of the
building where she lived she halted so abruptly she stumbled. A hand caught her
arm. Tira saw the gray-streaked beard of one of the winos who slept in the
doorways or the alley. “Get your hands off me.”
“Don’t go home,” he whispered. “Lose yourself in the crowd
and keep your head down.”
She saw a keen intelligence in the man’s dark eyes. Who was
he? He wasn’t as old as she had imagined either. “Why?”
“Your sister’s dead. Cops’ll be looking for you. They heard
about the fight.”
Tira’s stomach clenched. She blinked away a rush of tears.
Though hearing about her sister’s death wasn’t unexpected another dream
shattered. There would be no rehab for Luci. “Junkies O.D. every day,” she
said.
“She was murdered.”
Quite a way to start out. The hero Kashe has his own problems. Kashe of Mero sat on his bed in his chamber of the family
compound. His head pounded. When he opened his eyes he saw the day had
progressed into late afternoon. The bright light made him wince. He recalled
the past night’s celebration for the retirement of the family’s arms master who
had been his mentor and friend. From the Tuten he had learned the skills of a
warrior. Last night Kashe had finally defeated his mentor with weapons and a
capacity for beer.
“Kashe.” His father’s voice stabbed like a dagger.
He groaned and sat up. The drum in his head banged. Leave me
alone, he wanted to shout. The Nomarch of Mero’s anger toward his middle son
was nothing new. What did he want now?
As second son Kashe had been marked for the priesthood. He
had no desire to become a priest. He found satisfaction in his role as a
warrior. Yet, duty called for obedience.
If any other temple had been chosen he might have agreed. He
had no taste for this newly risen cadre of men seeking to force their god into
the circle of goddesses and gods of the Two Lands. Aken Re had been unknown
until the invaders had arrived. The army of those men had been defeated so why
did their priests linger?
The beaded curtain jangled adding cacophonic notes to the
beating in his head. “Answer me.” The nomarch entered and halted at the foot of
Kashe’s bed. “Rise and present yourself in the central hall. We have guests.
Your older brother has news of importance.”
Kashe groaned. He and Pian were a year apart in age and
generations in philosophy. In embracing the new religion, His brother had seen
an advantage for bringing his ambitions to fruition. He believed the priests
would smooth his path to the pharaoh’s chair.
Kashe sat on the edge of the bed and considered his brother
and his plans. Pian was slender and shorter than Kashe. He fit the picture of
an ideal pharaoh in appearance but not in character. He was cruel and selfish.
His sense of justice and honor were lacking. He had no love for Kashe.
“Throwback” was the mildest of the names Pian used as needles to jab his
younger brother. Kashe had strengths his brother lacked. Every match on the
training field had ended with Kashe as the victor.
He rose. He couldn’t help that in stature and build he
resembled the Nubian ancestors his father and older brother chose to forget in
their desire for power. If Pian became pharaoh the Nomarch of Mero would become
his son’s chief advisor.
“Are you coming?” his father asked.
If he said no who knew what would happen. Kashe stretched.
“As soon as I wash and dress.” Though he would rather have bathed he would make
do here. He glanced in the polished metal mirror. His warrior’s braid was neat
enough. He poured water from a pitcher into a basin and washed. After donning a
fresh kilt he fitted wrist and arm bands and selected a collar necklace.
As he left the family sleeping quarters he braced for the
evening meal, the main one of the day. He entered the central hall and hid a
desire to duck behind one of the pillars. On the dais his parents sat with a
pair of priests. Their gold medallions glittered in the torch light. His older
brother stood before the men.
As Kashe neared the platform he noticed the robes were
embroidered with gold-rayed discs representing their god. The pair were
opposites. One was rotund, smiling and fluttering his hands while speaking. The
other was lean with a hawk-like nose and a somber expression. Kashe noticed his
younger brother lingered in the shadows near the dais. If anything was to be
learned Namose would know.
The nomarch gestured. He strode past his sisters who were
engaged in a board game and gossip.
When Pian’s voice took on a tone both
servile and arrogant Kashe grimaced.
“My lords, Oris and Hebu, beloved of Aken Re, has the
daughter been found? I so desire to look in her face and claim her as my chief
wife. The honor you offer humbles me.”
The rotund priest’s smile broadened. “As yet we have not
found her, but the signs point to where she is hidden. When the auspicious hour
arrives we will claim her.” He turned from Pian to the nomarch. “You know the
price.”
The nomarch pointed to Kashe. “My lords of Aken Re, this is my
middle son. He is skilled with weapons and has a vast knowledge of strategy. He
will enter your temple as a priest.”
So welcome to my world. Horu's Chosen will be released next month and is up for pre-order. Toth's Priest is waiting for edits so there will be more about my fascination with ancient Egypt
