FOLLOW YOUR PRINCE-IBLES

 

 

Brawny’s fingers dug into Jagger’s arm. Jagger was so focused on Aria—stomping along in Scrawny’s clutches in front of him—he barely noticed.

“Are you from Amarna?” Aria flashed the soldier her most winning you-gotta-love-me smile, and Jagger’s heart dropped. No one that guy’s age was from Amarna. It was built from scratch on untouched land. Jagger wasn’t sure how many years ago that was, but it was fewer years than this guy had been alive.

“Sure.” Scrawny’s mouth curved into a grin. “Born and raised here—”

“How far away is the General?” Jagger’s voice cracked as he interrupted the soldier’s lie before his sister could dig her grave deeper.

Scrawny peeked back at him and snickered.

“No questions,” Brawny responded in a surprisingly kind tone. He glanced over at Jagger and loosened his grip.

“You guys asked questions,” Jagger retorted. He needed to buy time. And he needed to get his sister away from that creep before he threw her in front of an evil General dedicated to murdering their family.

“We’re in charge.” Brawny’s voice was high for such a beefy guy.

“I thought the royal family was in charge.” Jagger scanned the terrain. Houses with red doors lined the street. A few had clay snakes protecting them. Fewer people were around but those who were tossed glances their way as the soldiers dragged them past. Jagger called up a map of ancient Amarna in his head. The wide boulevard that ran between the main palace and the small Aten temple was behind them. The Nile was to the west. So they must be in the residential neighborhood just south of the main city.

“We work for the General,” Brawny explained. “And the General works for Pharaoh.”

“So that means we’re in charge,” Scrawny finished. “Back to your sister’s question—”

“No it doesn’t!” Jagger was too loud. “It doesn’t mean you’re in charge. I mean, technically. It means you do the bidding of the General, who does the bidding of the Pharaoh. So you’re not in charge—”

“We’re in charge of you.” Scrawny yanked Aria closer, and Jagger’s heart sped up.

“We …” Brawny stopped suddenly. His fingers tightened on Jagger’s arm.

A chariot sped toward them.

“The prince!” Brawny hissed as he pulled Jagger to the side of the street and dropped to his knees. He yanked Jagger’s arm, forcing him down as Scrawny followed, dragging a squirming Aria. Brawny cast his eyes down, but Scrawny stared at the gold chariot hurtling their way, pulled by a white horse.

Aria fell to her knees beside Jagger. He leaned into her, heart thumping. He could feel her bag, which she’d slid under her white shift dress.

His mind raced. In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity. The words of the famous Chinese general, Sun Tzu, thundered through his head.

This was his chance.

The chariot rumbled closer.

Just as it reached them, Jagger pulled away from the soldier and raced toward the horse.

Dust flew.

The horse neighed.

His sister screamed.

Green lights erupted to Jagger’s right side, and the horse reared back. Its hooves were so close to his head, Jagger felt the wind of the horse’s sudden lurch.

“Whoa!” The voice was young but gravely.

Jagger opened one eye. He was in the middle of the road, hunched up and frozen. But he was alive. He hadn’t been trampled by a horse.

“What are you doing?” A stern faced teenager jumped off the chariot. He looked like he was a few years older than Jagger and was covered in gold, from head to toe. Even his sandals were gold. He stared at Jagger through kohl-lined eyes over crossed arms. “What …”

Jagger sucked in a breath. He peeked over at Aria and realized even Scrawny had his head down now. Only Aria was looking up, hand to her mouth. When their eyes met, she jumped up, pulled away from the soldier, and ran to Jagger.

“My sister,” Jagger stuttered. “I mean … I’m sorry.” He dropped to the ground, mimicking the soldiers. He felt Aria kneel next to him and slipped an arm around her.

“What is the meaning of this?” the boy asked.

“I’m sorry, your, uh, sir.” Jagger had no idea how to address an ancient Egyptian prince. “I … uh …”

“You’re Tatia’s … I mean, Meretaten’s brother?” Aria was staring up at the prince, head quirked to one side. At least she hadn’t called the princess Merry Hot One this time.

Jagger braved a glance at the boy. His eyebrows were crawling up his face. His nostrils flared as he examined Aria, then shifted his focus to Jagger.

“And King Tut’s brother,” she added.

Jagger shoved his shoulder into her. How slow could she be? Even Aria should be able to figure out this kid was older than Tut. So for Tut to be king, this kid had to be dead.

“Smenkare!” Jagger shouted the name as it came to him. There wasn’t much scholarship about Tut’s older brother, who’d died young. “We know who you are, Prince Smenkare. Please ignore my sister. She’s delusional.” He squeezed Aria’s shoulder, willing her to shut up.

“What …” The prince shook his head in confusion and glanced at the soldiers, now crowded behind Jagger and Aria.

“We’re sorry, sir.” Scrawny was suddenly respectful. “We’re taking them to the General. He wants to talk to them.”

“The General?” Smenkare squinted.

“Yes, sir.” Scrawny kept his eyes down as he nodded.

“You’re telling me the General wants these two kids?” The prince twined his fingers together, eyes glowing.

“Yes, sir.” Scrawny nodded.

“Well.” The prince studied Jagger through hooded eyes. “Then the General shall have them.”

Jagger’s heart dropped. Maybe General Sun Tzu wasn’t as brilliant as his reputation.

“Thank you, sir.” Scrawny put his hands on Aria, and she twisted. “We’re sorry they bothered you.”

“No bother,” Smenkare drawled. “Put them on my chariot.”

“What?” Scrawny’s head wobbled. “Sir, the General is waiting—”

“I understand.” Smenkare hissed. “I said, put these two on my chariot. Now!”

The soldiers shifted back and forth, exchanging confused glances. Scrawny shook his head.

“Yes, sir.” Brawny pulled Jagger up, and led him to the horse that had almost trampled him.

Aria scrambled up onto the chariot, and Jagger jumped in behind her.

“Did you see that green light? That was magic!” Aria whispered. “He’s the Protector.”

“We don’t know that,” Jagger shot back, patting his thigh to confirm the scroll hadn’t fallen out during his brush with death. “He just said he’s taking us to the General. We can’t trust this kid.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“Because those soldiers were definitely taking us the wrong way. Our odds were better—”

“Seriously?” She sighed. “What, did you do math in your head and decide tossing yourself in front of a running horse was a winning plan? If fancy-teenager-boy hadn’t done, well, whatever that green light was, that horse would have killed you.”

“Just stay quiet, and let me do the talking,” he shot back as Smenkare climbed into the chariot.

The prince urged the horses on without sparing Jagger or Aria a glance.

Jagger gripped the rail behind him, keeping his distance from the prince. He stared back at the soldiers as they sped off. The urge to flash Scrawny a rude gesture was hard to resist. At least they were headed toward the palace. If they could just get to Tatia, or Wenher, before the General …

“You know my sister?” Smenkare kept his eyes straight ahead.

“We—”

Jagger stomped on Aria’s toe before she could say something stupid. His mind raced.

The prince glanced back at them, impatient.

“Uh,” Jagger stuttered. “The palace is lovely. Are we going there?” His chest felt too tight.

The prince’s smile was inscrutable, but Jagger felt a little better when he caught a glimpse of the palace ahead. Before they reached it, the prince turned toward the Nile, leading the horse to two large docks that jetted out into the river. Several impressive looking sailboats with huge, white sails stood out among numerous smaller fishing boats. Men crawled all over the big ships like ants on a hill, loading and unloading goods.

Smenkare stopped the horse and pointed to the largest boat.

Jagger looked back at the palace.

“Come with me.” The prince jumped down and nodded at the ship as a nearby soldier took his horse’s reins.

The ship had two wooden structures, like small barns, one on the front and the other on the back. Small windows ran along the top of the boat’s deck, each with an oar sticking straight through it.

Jagger stumbled off the chariot, his sister at his side. “Where are we going?” His heart raced as he glanced from Smenkare to the boat.

“Thebes.” Smenkare smiled.

The Protector?

“You’re—”

“Aria!” Jagger turned on his sister. “Remember, lil’ sis, that you’re sick. I’m here to take care of you. Let. Me. Speak.”

She scowled. But at least she shut up.

“Come.” Smenkare motioned them forward, then pivoted and strode across a thin plank onto the ship’s deck.

Jagger paused. What should he do? Could Smenkare be the Protector Tatia told them about? If so, why didn’t the prince just say that? Still, he wasn’t taking them to the General. Or was he? This wasn’t the way the soldiers had been heading. And what were the chances the prince would rush them to a boat bound for Thebes if he wasn’t the Protector?

Jagger fingered the letter to Herihor. If he got to Thebes, he could find the temple and get the High Priest’s help. Of course, they’d also be further away from home, further away from Mom.

“He’s the Protector,” Aria murmured. “He’s going to Thebes. And he knows magic. And he’s her brother!”

“I don’t know.” Jagger sighed, glancing from the ship back to the palace.

Aria put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Mek has one week, Jagger. We don’t have time for analysis paralysis. You need to trust people—”

“Yeah, because that’s worked out so well for me so far.”

“This isn’t about Dad,” she moaned, glancing at Smenkare, who was on the ship’s deck, staring back at them. With a huff, she stuck out her chin. “I don’t care what you do. I’m going.”

She turned and ran gracefully over the plank, toward a very pleased looking prince.