Here's another chapter by Amouthea and me! Hope you like it! Thanks for all of the reviews!
Chapter 10: Honor and a Choice
Pharaoh Seti rallied his forces after the few remaining Hittites retreated to the desert, undoubtedly to where their camp was. Pharaoh Seti acknowledged his army with pride, but knew this battle was merely a test to see how powerful the Egyptian army really was.
The Hittites would come in much greater numbers now.
Seti commanded two of his best warriors to track the fleeing Hittites, find their base, and return with a report of the opposition's strength. From the size of the test force they had sent in, it didn't look good.
Seti turned to his son who approached with a smile, holding a cloth to his arm.
"You have been injured?" Seti asked, pulling Ramses closer to examine the wound.
"Only a scratch," Ramses answered with a shrug, "they had archers, not many, but enough. Their arrows are tipped in a new metal; I do not know what it is."
Seti cursed. Archers could be quite a challenge though the Egyptians had many of their own. But with newer armored tips, they could easily penetrate the weak armor that the Egyptians gave their lesser infantry.
"But father, you should have seen our gods! They fought with such skill that no warrior of ours could match. Their weapons seemed unbreakable and their speed was that of the Urarus's strike! I have never seen such combat in all my life…"
Seti smiled and gave a quick mental prayer to the gods for their assistance, but was interrupped when Ramses screamed, "What?"
Seti looked at his son in surprise and glanced at Rashem, his general. Seti recoiled at the look of despair and horror on Rashem's face.
"My Lord… the wise Thoth has left us to Duat. He has been killed…"
Du'gret sat in the quarters the humans had provided for his clan, thinking of nothing but the death of his comrade. It seemed surreal… this was one of his first true hunts, and the first where they had lost a member. Sen'tre had been the smartest of them all, yet he was killed so quickly. For a moment, Du'gret felt the faintest feeling of regret.
"Stop this!" he scolded himself mentally; "This is no way to honor Sen'tre's death!" Sen'tre had fallen in battle, honorably. This was one of the greatest ways to meet the Black Warrior; laughing as your enemies fell around you, their lifeblood staining your weapon, the feeling of the Hunt churning within your veins. Regretting the loss would only diminish the honor the deceased had received.
Du'gret and the others looked up sharply as his father and Ru'shan entered the room; they had taken Sen'tre's body; where they had placed it, Du'gret was not sure.
At his father's beckoning, the clan stood and left the room, unsure of exactly what their leader had planned.
The clan watched mutely as their leader paced silently back and forth throughout the vast chamber for a few terse moments. None dared to speak. Out of reverence for their fallen comrade or fear of angering Grentou'se further than he appeared to be was anyone's guess. Du'gret mildly recognized the room as the entrance hall for the human fortress. He could tell a sober topic was soon to be discussed; his father was more then likely thinking of the best way to word the subject.
All eyes were on the large form when it abruptly halted and faced them with a click of talons against the floor. Grentou'se eyed them severely before casting a glance out the window and issuing a loud sigh.
"We must leave immediately."
"WHAT!"
Du'gret wasn't surprised he hadn't been alone in his vocalization. He halted his personal argument for the moment as Hun'ette stepped forward. His head was bowed to show that he meant his leader no disrespect, but behind his visor, his eyes blazed in fury.
"Leader, we cannot just leave. We must avenge …..death! The dishonorable oomans must pay!"
"They ALL must pay. These creatures deserve nothing better than to litter the ground. They are not even worthy of being thought of as trophies…" Gek'lete fumed.
Ani'de shot him a derisive look. "The invaders, you mean. Our hosts were not at fault."
Gek'lete shrugged. It made no difference if they all were killed in his book.
Grentou'se watched his students, listening to their arguments in turn. Du'gret could see by his stance that his decision had not been wavered in the least, however.
"Father…" he began, pausing for the namesake to look at him. "We cannot leave at this time. We all heard that what we took part in was only a mock-battle. A mere calculating measure on the invaders' part. They will return with an even greater force."
"That is no longer, and never should have been, of concern to us."
Du'gret didn't bother hiding his surprise or disappointment.
"You forget their role as hosts to us? They treated us like gods!"
"That was their own foolish mistake."
"How can you disown that element completely! They acted honorably."
"Only as a primitive would. They do not possess true honor. The invaders proved that."
"These ones are different!"
"They are all the same!"
Grentou'se knew full-well that his son had to check his anger after that comment. The young warrior had developed some sort of attachment to the oomans that dwelled within this city. He did not know whether to be angry or proud of his son's dissension to understand the alien civilization.
Du'gret glowered at his father. "We cannot just let them be overrun by those who attack without honor."
Ru'shan cut in before Grentou'se could answer.
"And what would you have us do? Fight their battle for them? That would prove nothing of their own honor. They would be cowards to rely on us."
Du'gret looked at Ru'shan evenly. "They did not ask for our help. Ever."
"These oomans did offer…aid to one of us without expecting anything in return." Kat'rin stepped forward. She knew her point was valid and could not be argued. Despite her initial distaste of the small creatures, she had grown to admire them.
Grentou'se nodded at her, and raised a hand to silence Du'gret's next comment.
"They had done us a great favor. And we have not hunted one of their brethren. I think for that we are even."
He glanced at his party once more.
"We have no favor to return any longer. These oomans will remain un-hunted for their hospitality. But we will leave."
He walked over and placed a hand on Hun'ette's shoulder. "Sen'tre's death was a folly of my own, for I let us participate in something we should not have. Let us honor his death and think no longer of childish ideas."
Hun'ette looked up abruptly, but Grentou'se shook his head. "Sen'tre's killer was slain on the battlefield. And that is where our involvement ends."
Out of the corner of his visor, the leader of the clan could see his son's shoulders sag with disappointment. But he admirably disputed the matter no further. With pride, Grentou'se stalked towards the entrance of the structure.
When he was halted by a cry of both fury and despair.
All of the hunting party turned at the sound reverberating from deep within the palace's walls.
Without a word, Du'gret turned and sprinted in the direction of the cry, and Grentou'se found himself too curious to reprimand his students as they followed suit. He shot Ru'shan an inquisitive glance and the latter shrugged.
"Only one way to find out…"
"What do you mean?" Pharaoh Seti roared in rage and grief, grabbing the remaining guard by the throat and shoving him into one of the decorated columns of his private quarters.
"The secondary attack was a distraction. The guards that were left here were slain…" the guard began only to gasp and choke for air as Seti's grip around his neck tighten, the adrenalin in the Pharaoh's system boosting his strength.
"You left them alone with only two guards! What was running through your minds! Did you not know what the greatest prize would be for the Hittites? One they could easily steal if not protected? You have seen what they do, the unimaginable tortures they commit, yet you did not exercise the proper caution!"
At that moment the Yautja burst into the room, taking in the scene. Although the entire clan's attention was locked on the Pharaoh strangling his guard, Du'gret noticed that something was wrong; very wrong.
The room they stood in was a mess. Tables over turned, vases shattered, along with other random objects littering the floor. The oomans had always tended to be orderly and neat; this was definitely not right.
Also, Prince Ramses stood a few steps behind his father, his face nearly drained of blood and his heart pounding loudly within his chest. Du'gret knew something had happened.
The Pharaoh paid no attention to the fact his gods had entered the room; if anything, he merely continued his ranting.
"Do you not know what your main goal is as a royal guard! Were you not taught it the first day of your training!"
"Yes…" the guard managed to choke out. At a small shake from the Pharaoh the guard continued.
"To protect the Pharaoh and the royal family." At that statement Du'gret felt his heart stop. Immediately he though of Neferti. What had happened to her?
Du'gret's questions were answered when the Pharaoh lowered his head and spoke in a whisper, "Yet, you allowed my wife and her handmaiden to be captured by our enemies, leading most certainly to their deaths…"
The fight was on again. Du'gret had originally planned to leave with his father, being the obedient student he was trained to be. But now, it was personal.
"We have to help them," he pleaded, desperately searching for some way to convince his father to stay. The rest of the students voiced their unanimous agreement. Even Ru'shan seemed to reconsider their course. Grentou'se, however, remained solid in his decision.
"You may have developed a fondness for the female human, but I am not going to risk the lives of the others for her."
"We would risk our own lives; you would not force us," Ani'de answered, along with nods from the others.
"That is not your decision," Grentou'se answered coldly, silencing the student.
"If we do not aid her, we sentence her to death," Du'gret argued his voice rising in his anger. Why could his father not see the importance of this?
"So be it. Her death is regrettable, but it is not our responsibility."
"It is mine. She saved my life, I owe her the same."
Grentou'se growled agitated, "You own nothing to that dishonorable creature."
Du'gret's mandibles flared slightly in anger, "She is not a dishonorable animal. She is an honorable, sentient being, and I am going after her."
Grentou'se's head pulled back in surprise, but he countered quickly, his anger matching Du'gret's, "If you disobey my order you will be stripped of any and all of your rank and you will be exiled from the clan." The clan stared in shock at Grentou'se. Such a threat was only reserved for great offences; Du'gret was treading on thin ice… and it was melting.
Grentou'se, feeling he won the argument, turned, only to hear Du'gret snarl, "Your order seems to make no sense anymore, for obeying it would dishonorable in itself."
Grentou'se had had enough. The Leader spun and backhanded Du'gret with enough power to send Du'gret through the air to land in a heap on the floor.
"You forget your place boy! Do not presume to challenge me for I will see you dead should you speak to me in that way ever again!" With that, Grentou'se turned a furious glare on the others who wisely adverted their eyes. They were not about to challenge their Leader.
Seeing no other competition, Grentou'se stalked away, knowing that his clan would follow.
Ani'de held his hand out to Du'gret who gratefully took to. A small cut above his eye bled slightly; Du'gret wiped away the blood angrily.
As they left the outskirts of the ooman city, Du'gret felt his heart sink lower. Neferti was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it. He could go after her, but then would be banished from his clan. Then where would he go? Become a Bad Blood? Du'gret shuddered at the thought; he would sooner die.
Then he thought of the oomans. They had accepted him into their city and home and seemed to expect him to stay for a while… would he find a home there?
No… a Yautja warrior's life was among his clan, not among an alien race. Yet Du'gret could hear the Pharaoh's words echo in his mind like a never ending wind, "You have seen what they do, the unimaginable tortures they commit…"
Du'gret stopped among the sand dunes. Torture was no death any creature deserved, especially a young female…
With that though Du'gret turned and slowly crept backwards, away from his clan and back towards the ooman city. He did not care of his father's orders, not anymore. He was going to help the oomans. The only ones Du'gret felt could judge him were the gods, and they smiled down on one with honorable actions.
He had always been a rule bender anyway; he could only hope that this time, they didn't break.
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