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The gall this woman had. He’d have been impressed if he was in any mood to be messed with. Her command to release Bianor came the second that Lukos shoved him forward and just to piss this woman off, he would have grabbed the back of Bianor’s chiton again but the old man was stooped and not within easy reach. Lukos left him for the time being. His attention had shifted to Iaheru, stabbing her with an unblinking stare.
Her insistence that she truly would threaten him was not lost on him. It was just that he didn’t give two flying fucks about what she assumed she’d do to him. By the time that she summoned enough men to man enough boats to stop the Aceton from sailing off down the Nile, he and his crew would already be gone, and just to piss her off further? He’d have Nia with him as a final ‘fuck you’ to this noble woman who was only important in her own social sphere. He was Greek. She didn’t own him or rule him. She controlled literally nothing of his and he’d already taken something of hers.
He couldn’t read her thoughts about her husband, which was just as well. Those would have been just as unpleasant as what had been issuing from her mouth. What she did manage to do, in nearly the same breath, was quiet the raging inferno that was building inside his chest and manifested in naked, violent thoughts on his face. The second she admitted that the mistake had been on her end, he relaxed a fraction. His gaze was no less sharp, but his body didn’t look as if he’d lunge at her if given the opening. That could definitely change within seconds. He was not known for being composed. Cold civility didn’t serve him in his line of work.
"Because of this likely error, Hei Sheifa will allow you to dock your ship here until noon tomorrow. We will not charge you for the water and dates provided to your crew."
He stared at her. His eyes flicked to Nia, and then back to her mother. Chargehim for her own generosity? Despite how very much he wanted to give her a scathing retort, he merely watched her in the same way a viper watches the human attempting to charm it. If he chose to strike, she’d be dead within minutes. But, someone else would put him in the ‘basket’ so to speak. Maybe he’d escape prison, but he wouldn’t be able to trade here anymore and that was unacceptable. For that reason alone, he bit the inside of his cheek until there were ragged teeth marks. His jaw clenched and unclenched. He still didn’t blink.
Just when he assumed her verbal lashing was over, she motioned to Bianor, and said "I will, however, remember this display.” Her switch to Greek for the next part grated on his very last nerve. "How will you rectify your inhospitality?"
While she chose to speak in Greek, he chose her native tongue. “He is my slave. I treat him as I see fit.” For the first time since she started speaking, he now glanced at the old man, who was staring back at him in clear loathing. Bianor didn’t need to understand Coptic when he saw Lukos gesture at him. He knew the captain enough by now to understand exactly what was being said. “He is a worm. Give him five minutes in your account books and you’d see the majority of it walk out in his own coin purse.” And this was true. The only reason Bianor was still with Lukos, despite hating him so, was because their mutual arrangement was beneficial to both. Neither one was concerned with liking the other. “What is it to you how I deal with my property?”
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The gall this woman had. He’d have been impressed if he was in any mood to be messed with. Her command to release Bianor came the second that Lukos shoved him forward and just to piss this woman off, he would have grabbed the back of Bianor’s chiton again but the old man was stooped and not within easy reach. Lukos left him for the time being. His attention had shifted to Iaheru, stabbing her with an unblinking stare.
Her insistence that she truly would threaten him was not lost on him. It was just that he didn’t give two flying fucks about what she assumed she’d do to him. By the time that she summoned enough men to man enough boats to stop the Aceton from sailing off down the Nile, he and his crew would already be gone, and just to piss her off further? He’d have Nia with him as a final ‘fuck you’ to this noble woman who was only important in her own social sphere. He was Greek. She didn’t own him or rule him. She controlled literally nothing of his and he’d already taken something of hers.
He couldn’t read her thoughts about her husband, which was just as well. Those would have been just as unpleasant as what had been issuing from her mouth. What she did manage to do, in nearly the same breath, was quiet the raging inferno that was building inside his chest and manifested in naked, violent thoughts on his face. The second she admitted that the mistake had been on her end, he relaxed a fraction. His gaze was no less sharp, but his body didn’t look as if he’d lunge at her if given the opening. That could definitely change within seconds. He was not known for being composed. Cold civility didn’t serve him in his line of work.
"Because of this likely error, Hei Sheifa will allow you to dock your ship here until noon tomorrow. We will not charge you for the water and dates provided to your crew."
He stared at her. His eyes flicked to Nia, and then back to her mother. Chargehim for her own generosity? Despite how very much he wanted to give her a scathing retort, he merely watched her in the same way a viper watches the human attempting to charm it. If he chose to strike, she’d be dead within minutes. But, someone else would put him in the ‘basket’ so to speak. Maybe he’d escape prison, but he wouldn’t be able to trade here anymore and that was unacceptable. For that reason alone, he bit the inside of his cheek until there were ragged teeth marks. His jaw clenched and unclenched. He still didn’t blink.
Just when he assumed her verbal lashing was over, she motioned to Bianor, and said "I will, however, remember this display.” Her switch to Greek for the next part grated on his very last nerve. "How will you rectify your inhospitality?"
While she chose to speak in Greek, he chose her native tongue. “He is my slave. I treat him as I see fit.” For the first time since she started speaking, he now glanced at the old man, who was staring back at him in clear loathing. Bianor didn’t need to understand Coptic when he saw Lukos gesture at him. He knew the captain enough by now to understand exactly what was being said. “He is a worm. Give him five minutes in your account books and you’d see the majority of it walk out in his own coin purse.” And this was true. The only reason Bianor was still with Lukos, despite hating him so, was because their mutual arrangement was beneficial to both. Neither one was concerned with liking the other. “What is it to you how I deal with my property?”
The gall this woman had. He’d have been impressed if he was in any mood to be messed with. Her command to release Bianor came the second that Lukos shoved him forward and just to piss this woman off, he would have grabbed the back of Bianor’s chiton again but the old man was stooped and not within easy reach. Lukos left him for the time being. His attention had shifted to Iaheru, stabbing her with an unblinking stare.
Her insistence that she truly would threaten him was not lost on him. It was just that he didn’t give two flying fucks about what she assumed she’d do to him. By the time that she summoned enough men to man enough boats to stop the Aceton from sailing off down the Nile, he and his crew would already be gone, and just to piss her off further? He’d have Nia with him as a final ‘fuck you’ to this noble woman who was only important in her own social sphere. He was Greek. She didn’t own him or rule him. She controlled literally nothing of his and he’d already taken something of hers.
He couldn’t read her thoughts about her husband, which was just as well. Those would have been just as unpleasant as what had been issuing from her mouth. What she did manage to do, in nearly the same breath, was quiet the raging inferno that was building inside his chest and manifested in naked, violent thoughts on his face. The second she admitted that the mistake had been on her end, he relaxed a fraction. His gaze was no less sharp, but his body didn’t look as if he’d lunge at her if given the opening. That could definitely change within seconds. He was not known for being composed. Cold civility didn’t serve him in his line of work.
"Because of this likely error, Hei Sheifa will allow you to dock your ship here until noon tomorrow. We will not charge you for the water and dates provided to your crew."
He stared at her. His eyes flicked to Nia, and then back to her mother. Chargehim for her own generosity? Despite how very much he wanted to give her a scathing retort, he merely watched her in the same way a viper watches the human attempting to charm it. If he chose to strike, she’d be dead within minutes. But, someone else would put him in the ‘basket’ so to speak. Maybe he’d escape prison, but he wouldn’t be able to trade here anymore and that was unacceptable. For that reason alone, he bit the inside of his cheek until there were ragged teeth marks. His jaw clenched and unclenched. He still didn’t blink.
Just when he assumed her verbal lashing was over, she motioned to Bianor, and said "I will, however, remember this display.” Her switch to Greek for the next part grated on his very last nerve. "How will you rectify your inhospitality?"
While she chose to speak in Greek, he chose her native tongue. “He is my slave. I treat him as I see fit.” For the first time since she started speaking, he now glanced at the old man, who was staring back at him in clear loathing. Bianor didn’t need to understand Coptic when he saw Lukos gesture at him. He knew the captain enough by now to understand exactly what was being said. “He is a worm. Give him five minutes in your account books and you’d see the majority of it walk out in his own coin purse.” And this was true. The only reason Bianor was still with Lukos, despite hating him so, was because their mutual arrangement was beneficial to both. Neither one was concerned with liking the other. “What is it to you how I deal with my property?”
Not concerned with the musings of a child likely still strung out on whatever she dusted her nose in, Iaheru didn't even look at Nia when she very proudly states: "I wasn't accused of lying. I did lie." Iaheru let her matter-of-fact tone denote her incredible apathy she possessed. Truly, the lack of consequences lightened her heavy robes, giving Iaheru a giddiness about her composure and dealings lately. There was nothing heavier than the burden of a reputation, it wove bronze weights between soft linen, dragging the sprightly nature of young girls into the bitterness of women. "If he doesn't want me to insult him, he ought to conduct himself in a manner worthy of my respect. He is not my blood. I don't have to tolerate him."
As the man continued with his quest for a mea culpa, Iaheru didn't offer much. She noticed how the air thinned with the blanket admission of fault. Her nostils flared with the continued brutality towards the slave. The entire display, even for a pesky, rickety, slave, was needlessly cruel and particularly sadistic. "It isn't necessarily your property, it's your presentation. We do not tolerate such commonality on this dock," Iaheru's eyes freckled with assurance in her name, "And if you cannot strike agreement with Hei Sheifa, I'm afraid you aren't going to find a friendlier port in Egypt. We simply don't need yet another Captain with a sour attitude..." "So how will you rectify your inhospitality?" Iaheru pressed again, her eyes widening, perched on the balls of her feet with a prompting flick of an eyebrow. Whatever he had on the ship, Iaheru certainly did not need it. The stores of the Customs House were stocked. Egypt would not miss slaves.
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Not concerned with the musings of a child likely still strung out on whatever she dusted her nose in, Iaheru didn't even look at Nia when she very proudly states: "I wasn't accused of lying. I did lie." Iaheru let her matter-of-fact tone denote her incredible apathy she possessed. Truly, the lack of consequences lightened her heavy robes, giving Iaheru a giddiness about her composure and dealings lately. There was nothing heavier than the burden of a reputation, it wove bronze weights between soft linen, dragging the sprightly nature of young girls into the bitterness of women. "If he doesn't want me to insult him, he ought to conduct himself in a manner worthy of my respect. He is not my blood. I don't have to tolerate him."
As the man continued with his quest for a mea culpa, Iaheru didn't offer much. She noticed how the air thinned with the blanket admission of fault. Her nostils flared with the continued brutality towards the slave. The entire display, even for a pesky, rickety, slave, was needlessly cruel and particularly sadistic. "It isn't necessarily your property, it's your presentation. We do not tolerate such commonality on this dock," Iaheru's eyes freckled with assurance in her name, "And if you cannot strike agreement with Hei Sheifa, I'm afraid you aren't going to find a friendlier port in Egypt. We simply don't need yet another Captain with a sour attitude..." "So how will you rectify your inhospitality?" Iaheru pressed again, her eyes widening, perched on the balls of her feet with a prompting flick of an eyebrow. Whatever he had on the ship, Iaheru certainly did not need it. The stores of the Customs House were stocked. Egypt would not miss slaves.
Not concerned with the musings of a child likely still strung out on whatever she dusted her nose in, Iaheru didn't even look at Nia when she very proudly states: "I wasn't accused of lying. I did lie." Iaheru let her matter-of-fact tone denote her incredible apathy she possessed. Truly, the lack of consequences lightened her heavy robes, giving Iaheru a giddiness about her composure and dealings lately. There was nothing heavier than the burden of a reputation, it wove bronze weights between soft linen, dragging the sprightly nature of young girls into the bitterness of women. "If he doesn't want me to insult him, he ought to conduct himself in a manner worthy of my respect. He is not my blood. I don't have to tolerate him."
As the man continued with his quest for a mea culpa, Iaheru didn't offer much. She noticed how the air thinned with the blanket admission of fault. Her nostils flared with the continued brutality towards the slave. The entire display, even for a pesky, rickety, slave, was needlessly cruel and particularly sadistic. "It isn't necessarily your property, it's your presentation. We do not tolerate such commonality on this dock," Iaheru's eyes freckled with assurance in her name, "And if you cannot strike agreement with Hei Sheifa, I'm afraid you aren't going to find a friendlier port in Egypt. We simply don't need yet another Captain with a sour attitude..." "So how will you rectify your inhospitality?" Iaheru pressed again, her eyes widening, perched on the balls of her feet with a prompting flick of an eyebrow. Whatever he had on the ship, Iaheru certainly did not need it. The stores of the Customs House were stocked. Egypt would not miss slaves.
"It isn't necessarily your property, it's your presentation. We do not tolerate such commonality on this dock." He stared at her. His…presentation? If he’d thrown Bianor in a more decorative way, perhaps with a little flare, this wouldn’t be the issue it was now? He blinked. Had she lost her fucking mind? "And if you cannot strike agreement with Hei Sheifa, I'm afraid you aren't going to find a friendlier port in Egypt. We simply don't need yet another Captain with a sour attitude..."
Lukos did not negotiate with people. Not usually, anyway. So when she demanded of him how he was going to make this right, he wasn’t sure how to respond. Mainly because this was all a set up. She playing by rules he was familiar with but unable to beat at the moment. They could...kill her. But not without a bunch of witnesses and he didn’t trust Bianor not to turn on him if the promise of something better came along.
He puffed out a sigh, folded his arms across his chest, and looked down at the docks at his feet. He should have known that going off with this girl would earn him nothing but trouble. It was too good to be true and he’d let her lead him straight into an ambush. A fun ambush, up to this point. This was the part of the fishing game where he’d figured out there was a hook in the worm and it was definitely stuck in his mouth.
“I suppose,” he said slowly, in Greek, since she wanted to play that way. “That you have some sort of plan for me to rectify this? I assume that because you seem so bent on it.”
His scribe was listening with keen interest, now that he could understand the conversation.
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"It isn't necessarily your property, it's your presentation. We do not tolerate such commonality on this dock." He stared at her. His…presentation? If he’d thrown Bianor in a more decorative way, perhaps with a little flare, this wouldn’t be the issue it was now? He blinked. Had she lost her fucking mind? "And if you cannot strike agreement with Hei Sheifa, I'm afraid you aren't going to find a friendlier port in Egypt. We simply don't need yet another Captain with a sour attitude..."
Lukos did not negotiate with people. Not usually, anyway. So when she demanded of him how he was going to make this right, he wasn’t sure how to respond. Mainly because this was all a set up. She playing by rules he was familiar with but unable to beat at the moment. They could...kill her. But not without a bunch of witnesses and he didn’t trust Bianor not to turn on him if the promise of something better came along.
He puffed out a sigh, folded his arms across his chest, and looked down at the docks at his feet. He should have known that going off with this girl would earn him nothing but trouble. It was too good to be true and he’d let her lead him straight into an ambush. A fun ambush, up to this point. This was the part of the fishing game where he’d figured out there was a hook in the worm and it was definitely stuck in his mouth.
“I suppose,” he said slowly, in Greek, since she wanted to play that way. “That you have some sort of plan for me to rectify this? I assume that because you seem so bent on it.”
His scribe was listening with keen interest, now that he could understand the conversation.
"It isn't necessarily your property, it's your presentation. We do not tolerate such commonality on this dock." He stared at her. His…presentation? If he’d thrown Bianor in a more decorative way, perhaps with a little flare, this wouldn’t be the issue it was now? He blinked. Had she lost her fucking mind? "And if you cannot strike agreement with Hei Sheifa, I'm afraid you aren't going to find a friendlier port in Egypt. We simply don't need yet another Captain with a sour attitude..."
Lukos did not negotiate with people. Not usually, anyway. So when she demanded of him how he was going to make this right, he wasn’t sure how to respond. Mainly because this was all a set up. She playing by rules he was familiar with but unable to beat at the moment. They could...kill her. But not without a bunch of witnesses and he didn’t trust Bianor not to turn on him if the promise of something better came along.
He puffed out a sigh, folded his arms across his chest, and looked down at the docks at his feet. He should have known that going off with this girl would earn him nothing but trouble. It was too good to be true and he’d let her lead him straight into an ambush. A fun ambush, up to this point. This was the part of the fishing game where he’d figured out there was a hook in the worm and it was definitely stuck in his mouth.
“I suppose,” he said slowly, in Greek, since she wanted to play that way. “That you have some sort of plan for me to rectify this? I assume that because you seem so bent on it.”
His scribe was listening with keen interest, now that he could understand the conversation.
Iaheru remained unfazed by the entire situation. Perhaps, the day at the Customs House had gone by too smoothly, the ports waters were unusually calm and aside from her missing ship, everything was accounted for. Her dock hands were so ahead on work, they even sat in the shade of a papyrus awning and played mancala with her. Each stone plunked satisfyingly into a wooden divet, the kohl beneath her eyes absorbing the sun and the smooth pebbles rolled over her fingers flattered her with simpler times. A bundle of spearmint hung between her lips as she lounged with the workers, the prows of ships and smooth bottomed flat boats navigated the Nile, agitating silt and memories of her Onuphrious and her childhood foregrounded by chasing frogs and papyrus cuts along the banks of her father's slips.
There was very little that could ruin her day. By all means, Iaheru was in a pleasant mood had it not been for the maltreatment of the elderly man and the crassness of the sailor. Yet, these upsets were isolated. "Yes, I do." "My daughter seems to have taken a liking to you, so I will defer to her judgement. You owe me a favor, and expect to repay it." Iaheru shrugged her shoulders, toying with one on the many heavy, golden rings wrapped around inflamed knuckles.
"Swear to me on the only God that matters," Iaheru outstretched her arm for the man to grab, implying that God be Anubis. "That when the time comes to repay service Hei Sheifa, you will deliver." It was a vague proposition, but one that she and Onuphrious employed frequently in their dealings because of the flexible commitment. So far, the exchange had obviously worked to their advantage, having owned all of the sunbleached bannered slips on the Nile as far as eyes could discern and beyond the dreams of the two ambitious figureheads.
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Iaheru remained unfazed by the entire situation. Perhaps, the day at the Customs House had gone by too smoothly, the ports waters were unusually calm and aside from her missing ship, everything was accounted for. Her dock hands were so ahead on work, they even sat in the shade of a papyrus awning and played mancala with her. Each stone plunked satisfyingly into a wooden divet, the kohl beneath her eyes absorbing the sun and the smooth pebbles rolled over her fingers flattered her with simpler times. A bundle of spearmint hung between her lips as she lounged with the workers, the prows of ships and smooth bottomed flat boats navigated the Nile, agitating silt and memories of her Onuphrious and her childhood foregrounded by chasing frogs and papyrus cuts along the banks of her father's slips.
There was very little that could ruin her day. By all means, Iaheru was in a pleasant mood had it not been for the maltreatment of the elderly man and the crassness of the sailor. Yet, these upsets were isolated. "Yes, I do." "My daughter seems to have taken a liking to you, so I will defer to her judgement. You owe me a favor, and expect to repay it." Iaheru shrugged her shoulders, toying with one on the many heavy, golden rings wrapped around inflamed knuckles.
"Swear to me on the only God that matters," Iaheru outstretched her arm for the man to grab, implying that God be Anubis. "That when the time comes to repay service Hei Sheifa, you will deliver." It was a vague proposition, but one that she and Onuphrious employed frequently in their dealings because of the flexible commitment. So far, the exchange had obviously worked to their advantage, having owned all of the sunbleached bannered slips on the Nile as far as eyes could discern and beyond the dreams of the two ambitious figureheads.
Iaheru remained unfazed by the entire situation. Perhaps, the day at the Customs House had gone by too smoothly, the ports waters were unusually calm and aside from her missing ship, everything was accounted for. Her dock hands were so ahead on work, they even sat in the shade of a papyrus awning and played mancala with her. Each stone plunked satisfyingly into a wooden divet, the kohl beneath her eyes absorbing the sun and the smooth pebbles rolled over her fingers flattered her with simpler times. A bundle of spearmint hung between her lips as she lounged with the workers, the prows of ships and smooth bottomed flat boats navigated the Nile, agitating silt and memories of her Onuphrious and her childhood foregrounded by chasing frogs and papyrus cuts along the banks of her father's slips.
There was very little that could ruin her day. By all means, Iaheru was in a pleasant mood had it not been for the maltreatment of the elderly man and the crassness of the sailor. Yet, these upsets were isolated. "Yes, I do." "My daughter seems to have taken a liking to you, so I will defer to her judgement. You owe me a favor, and expect to repay it." Iaheru shrugged her shoulders, toying with one on the many heavy, golden rings wrapped around inflamed knuckles.
"Swear to me on the only God that matters," Iaheru outstretched her arm for the man to grab, implying that God be Anubis. "That when the time comes to repay service Hei Sheifa, you will deliver." It was a vague proposition, but one that she and Onuphrious employed frequently in their dealings because of the flexible commitment. So far, the exchange had obviously worked to their advantage, having owned all of the sunbleached bannered slips on the Nile as far as eyes could discern and beyond the dreams of the two ambitious figureheads.
His eyes narrowed at her confirmation that, yes, she’d already had a plan before she flared up on him about the scribe. Which meant he didn’t believe a word of her supposed empathy or compassion for a slave. If she had such a bleeding heart, she wouldn’t be threatening him the way she had. Her personality, such as he’d witnessed it, bore less of a resemblance to a lovely, wholesome apple and more like a lemon. Sour and in need of quite a bit of honey to make her palatable, and yet, quite pretty. He liked the look of her, at least, and if her acerbic bite wasn’t directed at him, he’d have probably liked her quite a bit more.
"My daughter seems to have taken a liking to you, so I will defer to her judgement. You owe me a favor, and expect to repay it."
A smile crossed his features. She could expect all she liked but if he wasn’t in Egypt, he wouldn’t be able to do shit. Though, even as he had the thought, he was fairly certain that Iaheru was a woman who would get her way. He was an adult and his pride wasn’t worth what she was threatening. Besides, a favor did nothing to injure him in this moment. The great thing about favors was that they were rarely called in.
“A favor,” he said in a sigh, like he wasn’t quite ready to agree to this. His gaze slid to Nia, thinking on plans he’d made. Then he looked back at Iaheru. “A favor it is,” he agreed. “A favor for a favor.” And what a favor Nia had already done...how many she would continue to do in the coming days.
"Swear to me on the only God that matters that when the time comes to repay service Hei Sheifa, you will deliver." She stretched out her arm and for a moment, Lukos stared down at it. This was almost like speaking with a man - her tone of address, the way she refused any sort of dissension. He would have believed her, too, if not for one small thing. One pretty, curvy thing that stood off to the side, eyeing them now.
There would never be a favor he had to fulfill and this was all show. Lukos smirked and grasped her on the forearm as she did to him. It was also alright to swear by her gods because, even if the gods existed, he very much doubted they cared about humans at all. Whichever absentee god she was envoking would not give a single, solitary thought to whether or not he fulfilled this bargain to H’Sheifa. And so he made the deal, binding in front of witnesses and under the watch of the gods because, really, what did it matter? He’d get what he wanted; girl and ship, trading and hassle free sailing.
Easy.
“I swear,” he said easily with a wolf’s smile and a snake’s tongue.
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His eyes narrowed at her confirmation that, yes, she’d already had a plan before she flared up on him about the scribe. Which meant he didn’t believe a word of her supposed empathy or compassion for a slave. If she had such a bleeding heart, she wouldn’t be threatening him the way she had. Her personality, such as he’d witnessed it, bore less of a resemblance to a lovely, wholesome apple and more like a lemon. Sour and in need of quite a bit of honey to make her palatable, and yet, quite pretty. He liked the look of her, at least, and if her acerbic bite wasn’t directed at him, he’d have probably liked her quite a bit more.
"My daughter seems to have taken a liking to you, so I will defer to her judgement. You owe me a favor, and expect to repay it."
A smile crossed his features. She could expect all she liked but if he wasn’t in Egypt, he wouldn’t be able to do shit. Though, even as he had the thought, he was fairly certain that Iaheru was a woman who would get her way. He was an adult and his pride wasn’t worth what she was threatening. Besides, a favor did nothing to injure him in this moment. The great thing about favors was that they were rarely called in.
“A favor,” he said in a sigh, like he wasn’t quite ready to agree to this. His gaze slid to Nia, thinking on plans he’d made. Then he looked back at Iaheru. “A favor it is,” he agreed. “A favor for a favor.” And what a favor Nia had already done...how many she would continue to do in the coming days.
"Swear to me on the only God that matters that when the time comes to repay service Hei Sheifa, you will deliver." She stretched out her arm and for a moment, Lukos stared down at it. This was almost like speaking with a man - her tone of address, the way she refused any sort of dissension. He would have believed her, too, if not for one small thing. One pretty, curvy thing that stood off to the side, eyeing them now.
There would never be a favor he had to fulfill and this was all show. Lukos smirked and grasped her on the forearm as she did to him. It was also alright to swear by her gods because, even if the gods existed, he very much doubted they cared about humans at all. Whichever absentee god she was envoking would not give a single, solitary thought to whether or not he fulfilled this bargain to H’Sheifa. And so he made the deal, binding in front of witnesses and under the watch of the gods because, really, what did it matter? He’d get what he wanted; girl and ship, trading and hassle free sailing.
Easy.
“I swear,” he said easily with a wolf’s smile and a snake’s tongue.
His eyes narrowed at her confirmation that, yes, she’d already had a plan before she flared up on him about the scribe. Which meant he didn’t believe a word of her supposed empathy or compassion for a slave. If she had such a bleeding heart, she wouldn’t be threatening him the way she had. Her personality, such as he’d witnessed it, bore less of a resemblance to a lovely, wholesome apple and more like a lemon. Sour and in need of quite a bit of honey to make her palatable, and yet, quite pretty. He liked the look of her, at least, and if her acerbic bite wasn’t directed at him, he’d have probably liked her quite a bit more.
"My daughter seems to have taken a liking to you, so I will defer to her judgement. You owe me a favor, and expect to repay it."
A smile crossed his features. She could expect all she liked but if he wasn’t in Egypt, he wouldn’t be able to do shit. Though, even as he had the thought, he was fairly certain that Iaheru was a woman who would get her way. He was an adult and his pride wasn’t worth what she was threatening. Besides, a favor did nothing to injure him in this moment. The great thing about favors was that they were rarely called in.
“A favor,” he said in a sigh, like he wasn’t quite ready to agree to this. His gaze slid to Nia, thinking on plans he’d made. Then he looked back at Iaheru. “A favor it is,” he agreed. “A favor for a favor.” And what a favor Nia had already done...how many she would continue to do in the coming days.
"Swear to me on the only God that matters that when the time comes to repay service Hei Sheifa, you will deliver." She stretched out her arm and for a moment, Lukos stared down at it. This was almost like speaking with a man - her tone of address, the way she refused any sort of dissension. He would have believed her, too, if not for one small thing. One pretty, curvy thing that stood off to the side, eyeing them now.
There would never be a favor he had to fulfill and this was all show. Lukos smirked and grasped her on the forearm as she did to him. It was also alright to swear by her gods because, even if the gods existed, he very much doubted they cared about humans at all. Whichever absentee god she was envoking would not give a single, solitary thought to whether or not he fulfilled this bargain to H’Sheifa. And so he made the deal, binding in front of witnesses and under the watch of the gods because, really, what did it matter? He’d get what he wanted; girl and ship, trading and hassle free sailing.
Easy.
“I swear,” he said easily with a wolf’s smile and a snake’s tongue.
Nia worried at her lip until it nearly bled, mahogany eyes flicking back and forth between her mother and Lukos in their rapidfire exchange. Such honey-coated venom was beyond her conversational skills; while the young noblewoman possessed charm and wit, such purposeful negotiation and overlaid malice was beyond her. She was a girl that tended to say what she meant, and rarely were those words ones of spite. With a kinder heart and a softer tongue than her mother, she knew she would never achieve the ruthlessness that Iaheru wore like a carefully gilded cloak. While part of Nia admired her for it and almost envied her, she was also glad it wasn’t a mantle she’d ever have to don. Let her mother fight the battles. She preferred to deal with the spoils, anyway.
Lukos, on the other hand, was a stark contrast to Iaheru’s cold calculation—his fire seemed likely to burst forth and consume them all if stoked too much further. To her surprise, however, Iaheru managed to toe that line and come out the other side without further damage, the pair striking an accord that seemed far too vague for how hard her mother had pressed him. Nia’s gaze narrowed as she glanced between them; an open-ended favor didn’t seem like a very good idea to her, but what did she know about bartering? Either way, it seemed to work, for by the end, they were clasping arms like old comrades, even if the grip of their fingers seemed a little too tight from where she was standing.
Releasing a pent-up sigh of relief, she closed her eyes for a moment and offered a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god might be listening. At least she wouldn’t have to dive off into the Nile now that everything seemed to have resolved itself without violence. Looking toward Lukos, she even bit back a smile. Whether he kept his end of the bargain or not, it didn’t matter. They’d be long gone by the time morning arrived.
“Is everything settled now?” Nia asked them with a lift of her eyebrow, the feigned boredom in her voice barely veiling the nerves beneath. “Are we going to be able to walk off this dock without one of you trying to drown the other?” It was a lame attempt at a joke, but she figured a little levity might cut some of the tension clouding the air like a noxious gas.
“Perhaps we might head home for supper now, Mother,” she said, turning to Iaheru after leveling a significant look at Lukos. The sooner they could head home, the sooner she could sneak back and leave this all behind. Not to mention the fact that her stomach was growling fiercer than a lion; she hadn’t eaten since the honey cakes she’d purchased for her and the pirate earlier in the day, and she’d engaged in rather… vigorous activities since then. A little food in her stomach before disappearing into the night was an appealing thought she was reluctant to let go of. “I’d like to eat and then settle in for the evening. It’s been an eventful afternoon for all of us. Some rest will do everyone good.”
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Nia worried at her lip until it nearly bled, mahogany eyes flicking back and forth between her mother and Lukos in their rapidfire exchange. Such honey-coated venom was beyond her conversational skills; while the young noblewoman possessed charm and wit, such purposeful negotiation and overlaid malice was beyond her. She was a girl that tended to say what she meant, and rarely were those words ones of spite. With a kinder heart and a softer tongue than her mother, she knew she would never achieve the ruthlessness that Iaheru wore like a carefully gilded cloak. While part of Nia admired her for it and almost envied her, she was also glad it wasn’t a mantle she’d ever have to don. Let her mother fight the battles. She preferred to deal with the spoils, anyway.
Lukos, on the other hand, was a stark contrast to Iaheru’s cold calculation—his fire seemed likely to burst forth and consume them all if stoked too much further. To her surprise, however, Iaheru managed to toe that line and come out the other side without further damage, the pair striking an accord that seemed far too vague for how hard her mother had pressed him. Nia’s gaze narrowed as she glanced between them; an open-ended favor didn’t seem like a very good idea to her, but what did she know about bartering? Either way, it seemed to work, for by the end, they were clasping arms like old comrades, even if the grip of their fingers seemed a little too tight from where she was standing.
Releasing a pent-up sigh of relief, she closed her eyes for a moment and offered a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god might be listening. At least she wouldn’t have to dive off into the Nile now that everything seemed to have resolved itself without violence. Looking toward Lukos, she even bit back a smile. Whether he kept his end of the bargain or not, it didn’t matter. They’d be long gone by the time morning arrived.
“Is everything settled now?” Nia asked them with a lift of her eyebrow, the feigned boredom in her voice barely veiling the nerves beneath. “Are we going to be able to walk off this dock without one of you trying to drown the other?” It was a lame attempt at a joke, but she figured a little levity might cut some of the tension clouding the air like a noxious gas.
“Perhaps we might head home for supper now, Mother,” she said, turning to Iaheru after leveling a significant look at Lukos. The sooner they could head home, the sooner she could sneak back and leave this all behind. Not to mention the fact that her stomach was growling fiercer than a lion; she hadn’t eaten since the honey cakes she’d purchased for her and the pirate earlier in the day, and she’d engaged in rather… vigorous activities since then. A little food in her stomach before disappearing into the night was an appealing thought she was reluctant to let go of. “I’d like to eat and then settle in for the evening. It’s been an eventful afternoon for all of us. Some rest will do everyone good.”
Nia worried at her lip until it nearly bled, mahogany eyes flicking back and forth between her mother and Lukos in their rapidfire exchange. Such honey-coated venom was beyond her conversational skills; while the young noblewoman possessed charm and wit, such purposeful negotiation and overlaid malice was beyond her. She was a girl that tended to say what she meant, and rarely were those words ones of spite. With a kinder heart and a softer tongue than her mother, she knew she would never achieve the ruthlessness that Iaheru wore like a carefully gilded cloak. While part of Nia admired her for it and almost envied her, she was also glad it wasn’t a mantle she’d ever have to don. Let her mother fight the battles. She preferred to deal with the spoils, anyway.
Lukos, on the other hand, was a stark contrast to Iaheru’s cold calculation—his fire seemed likely to burst forth and consume them all if stoked too much further. To her surprise, however, Iaheru managed to toe that line and come out the other side without further damage, the pair striking an accord that seemed far too vague for how hard her mother had pressed him. Nia’s gaze narrowed as she glanced between them; an open-ended favor didn’t seem like a very good idea to her, but what did she know about bartering? Either way, it seemed to work, for by the end, they were clasping arms like old comrades, even if the grip of their fingers seemed a little too tight from where she was standing.
Releasing a pent-up sigh of relief, she closed her eyes for a moment and offered a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god might be listening. At least she wouldn’t have to dive off into the Nile now that everything seemed to have resolved itself without violence. Looking toward Lukos, she even bit back a smile. Whether he kept his end of the bargain or not, it didn’t matter. They’d be long gone by the time morning arrived.
“Is everything settled now?” Nia asked them with a lift of her eyebrow, the feigned boredom in her voice barely veiling the nerves beneath. “Are we going to be able to walk off this dock without one of you trying to drown the other?” It was a lame attempt at a joke, but she figured a little levity might cut some of the tension clouding the air like a noxious gas.
“Perhaps we might head home for supper now, Mother,” she said, turning to Iaheru after leveling a significant look at Lukos. The sooner they could head home, the sooner she could sneak back and leave this all behind. Not to mention the fact that her stomach was growling fiercer than a lion; she hadn’t eaten since the honey cakes she’d purchased for her and the pirate earlier in the day, and she’d engaged in rather… vigorous activities since then. A little food in her stomach before disappearing into the night was an appealing thought she was reluctant to let go of. “I’d like to eat and then settle in for the evening. It’s been an eventful afternoon for all of us. Some rest will do everyone good.”
Holding Iaheru’s hand, staring into her dark eyes, made time slow to a crawl. The shimmering heat of the day floated around them, hot enough to melt a wax candle if left out. Behind him, his crew weren’t working. They were sprawled on the deck, taking shade where they could. Their quiet pleas for this to be over were enough for him to not push this any further. When she went to take back her hand, he tightened his hold and didn’t allow her.
“Thank you for being so kind to my crew.” He grinned the way a crocodile might, teeth bared. “I don’t think I offered the correct amount of gratitude for your thoughtfulness, before.”
By Zeus he wished he could crush this woman into dust. If only he could instill in her the proper amount of fear and respect that she so obviously lacked. His eyes were unblinking and fathomless - sharklike in the way he held her in his sights. Less like she was a person and more like she was prey that he’d love to destroy. With a final, sharp squeeze to her hand, he severed the connection and took a step back.
“Is everything settled now?” Nia asked archly and he glanced at her lifting an eyebrow in that same, haughty way her mother had done. Her tone was very slightly different but they both had the air of owning the dock. The might own it in name, but they couldn’t work it and they certainly couldn’t do anything without the might of their people to back up their ‘authority’.
For a single second, he cut his gaze to her, the same sharp glare still in it, but he blinked the urge to put them in their true place ebbed. “Yes,” he said and laid a hand on Bianor. The old man looked up at him, fully expecting to be thrown out in front so that he’d go up the gangway first. But Lukos shocked him into submission by firmly directing him with no rough treatment of any kind.
Bianor’s wrinkled mouth fell open like a trap door and he blinked in confusion as he took tottering steps onto the gangway. He didn’t ask what had gotten into the captain or why Lukos had chosen to so fully accept Iaheru’s terms, but then, the scribe didn’t know about Lukos’s plan later. He’d have understood then.
As it stood, Lukos let both women go as though he cared very little and planned never to see either one again. For the mother, that was true. They better not meet again. For the daughter? He’d see her again tonight.
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Holding Iaheru’s hand, staring into her dark eyes, made time slow to a crawl. The shimmering heat of the day floated around them, hot enough to melt a wax candle if left out. Behind him, his crew weren’t working. They were sprawled on the deck, taking shade where they could. Their quiet pleas for this to be over were enough for him to not push this any further. When she went to take back her hand, he tightened his hold and didn’t allow her.
“Thank you for being so kind to my crew.” He grinned the way a crocodile might, teeth bared. “I don’t think I offered the correct amount of gratitude for your thoughtfulness, before.”
By Zeus he wished he could crush this woman into dust. If only he could instill in her the proper amount of fear and respect that she so obviously lacked. His eyes were unblinking and fathomless - sharklike in the way he held her in his sights. Less like she was a person and more like she was prey that he’d love to destroy. With a final, sharp squeeze to her hand, he severed the connection and took a step back.
“Is everything settled now?” Nia asked archly and he glanced at her lifting an eyebrow in that same, haughty way her mother had done. Her tone was very slightly different but they both had the air of owning the dock. The might own it in name, but they couldn’t work it and they certainly couldn’t do anything without the might of their people to back up their ‘authority’.
For a single second, he cut his gaze to her, the same sharp glare still in it, but he blinked the urge to put them in their true place ebbed. “Yes,” he said and laid a hand on Bianor. The old man looked up at him, fully expecting to be thrown out in front so that he’d go up the gangway first. But Lukos shocked him into submission by firmly directing him with no rough treatment of any kind.
Bianor’s wrinkled mouth fell open like a trap door and he blinked in confusion as he took tottering steps onto the gangway. He didn’t ask what had gotten into the captain or why Lukos had chosen to so fully accept Iaheru’s terms, but then, the scribe didn’t know about Lukos’s plan later. He’d have understood then.
As it stood, Lukos let both women go as though he cared very little and planned never to see either one again. For the mother, that was true. They better not meet again. For the daughter? He’d see her again tonight.
Holding Iaheru’s hand, staring into her dark eyes, made time slow to a crawl. The shimmering heat of the day floated around them, hot enough to melt a wax candle if left out. Behind him, his crew weren’t working. They were sprawled on the deck, taking shade where they could. Their quiet pleas for this to be over were enough for him to not push this any further. When she went to take back her hand, he tightened his hold and didn’t allow her.
“Thank you for being so kind to my crew.” He grinned the way a crocodile might, teeth bared. “I don’t think I offered the correct amount of gratitude for your thoughtfulness, before.”
By Zeus he wished he could crush this woman into dust. If only he could instill in her the proper amount of fear and respect that she so obviously lacked. His eyes were unblinking and fathomless - sharklike in the way he held her in his sights. Less like she was a person and more like she was prey that he’d love to destroy. With a final, sharp squeeze to her hand, he severed the connection and took a step back.
“Is everything settled now?” Nia asked archly and he glanced at her lifting an eyebrow in that same, haughty way her mother had done. Her tone was very slightly different but they both had the air of owning the dock. The might own it in name, but they couldn’t work it and they certainly couldn’t do anything without the might of their people to back up their ‘authority’.
For a single second, he cut his gaze to her, the same sharp glare still in it, but he blinked the urge to put them in their true place ebbed. “Yes,” he said and laid a hand on Bianor. The old man looked up at him, fully expecting to be thrown out in front so that he’d go up the gangway first. But Lukos shocked him into submission by firmly directing him with no rough treatment of any kind.
Bianor’s wrinkled mouth fell open like a trap door and he blinked in confusion as he took tottering steps onto the gangway. He didn’t ask what had gotten into the captain or why Lukos had chosen to so fully accept Iaheru’s terms, but then, the scribe didn’t know about Lukos’s plan later. He’d have understood then.
As it stood, Lukos let both women go as though he cared very little and planned never to see either one again. For the mother, that was true. They better not meet again. For the daughter? He’d see her again tonight.
A congenial smile wrapped the stark face of a socialite more tightly than the muslin fringed wrap framing Iaheru’s face. A sprinkling of freckles dot the bridge of a sun kissed nose, the remaining texture smooth and flawless like milk with only the hint of ripple around kohl soaked eyes. She was not fazed, perhaps erroneously so with the way her chin jutted up into the air like a puffed sail.
Frankly, it would not matter if he returned his favor, it did not matter to Iaheru whether the pirate was worth his word in gold or silt. Iaheru had an interesting day. More interesting than her recent exile to the confines of Saraaya Sheifa where she could look into the reflection of gold leaf until she magnified every minuscule line of an aging face. Manageable strife stirred the diplomat in Iaheru, a skill she had mastered but had not cultivated in a long time.
Before the man let go of her arm, Iaheru’s fingertips tickled the inside of his forearm with an ambiguous wink to offset the man’s calculation. Rigid shoulders and stifling posture underscored whatever mocking flirtation she could muster. “It was my pleasure,” she licked her dry lips, taking away with Neithotep without speaking to her daughter’s comments. Perhaps Neithotep would benefit from a lesson or two in the importance of company, or, at the very least, how to manage the whims of children and men alike.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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A congenial smile wrapped the stark face of a socialite more tightly than the muslin fringed wrap framing Iaheru’s face. A sprinkling of freckles dot the bridge of a sun kissed nose, the remaining texture smooth and flawless like milk with only the hint of ripple around kohl soaked eyes. She was not fazed, perhaps erroneously so with the way her chin jutted up into the air like a puffed sail.
Frankly, it would not matter if he returned his favor, it did not matter to Iaheru whether the pirate was worth his word in gold or silt. Iaheru had an interesting day. More interesting than her recent exile to the confines of Saraaya Sheifa where she could look into the reflection of gold leaf until she magnified every minuscule line of an aging face. Manageable strife stirred the diplomat in Iaheru, a skill she had mastered but had not cultivated in a long time.
Before the man let go of her arm, Iaheru’s fingertips tickled the inside of his forearm with an ambiguous wink to offset the man’s calculation. Rigid shoulders and stifling posture underscored whatever mocking flirtation she could muster. “It was my pleasure,” she licked her dry lips, taking away with Neithotep without speaking to her daughter’s comments. Perhaps Neithotep would benefit from a lesson or two in the importance of company, or, at the very least, how to manage the whims of children and men alike.
A congenial smile wrapped the stark face of a socialite more tightly than the muslin fringed wrap framing Iaheru’s face. A sprinkling of freckles dot the bridge of a sun kissed nose, the remaining texture smooth and flawless like milk with only the hint of ripple around kohl soaked eyes. She was not fazed, perhaps erroneously so with the way her chin jutted up into the air like a puffed sail.
Frankly, it would not matter if he returned his favor, it did not matter to Iaheru whether the pirate was worth his word in gold or silt. Iaheru had an interesting day. More interesting than her recent exile to the confines of Saraaya Sheifa where she could look into the reflection of gold leaf until she magnified every minuscule line of an aging face. Manageable strife stirred the diplomat in Iaheru, a skill she had mastered but had not cultivated in a long time.
Before the man let go of her arm, Iaheru’s fingertips tickled the inside of his forearm with an ambiguous wink to offset the man’s calculation. Rigid shoulders and stifling posture underscored whatever mocking flirtation she could muster. “It was my pleasure,” she licked her dry lips, taking away with Neithotep without speaking to her daughter’s comments. Perhaps Neithotep would benefit from a lesson or two in the importance of company, or, at the very least, how to manage the whims of children and men alike.