The moon was high as Seto watched his men slip among the sleeping men at the oasis. Foolishly they left only one sentry who was sadly easy to sneak up on. Each of his men signaled their findings. Nine... no ten guards, fine horses but no camels or goods. What or who were these men protecting. This party was designed to move fast. Silent signals told him these men were armed. Soldiers. Soldiers were troublesome slaves, best to kill them. Ah! There was the signal he wanted, Treasure. Raising his hand Seto signaled his men to slaughter the guards.
Walking among the tents, the only sound was that of blades singing through the air. Seto cared nothing for the paltry belongings of the soldiers, let his men quarl over those spoils. He wanted the treasure his men had found. Silently entering the largest tent, he found Hasan, his second in command standing by a sleeping boy. The tent was the finest cloth and all around were signs of riches. Uneaten fruit, furs and fine cloth, golden plates, and a chalice. This boy even wore gold jewelry. A pamper prince of Egypt no doubt. Some noble’s son.
A hard blow to the back of the boy’s head ensured he would stay quiet. Seto knew should ransom the boy. But a taste of the hard life the Egyptians left for his people would do the boy some good. Shackled and stripped down to just his shendyt, the boy was tossed into the wagon along with the rest of the goods.
They traveled all night, the new location of their camp was just being set up as they arrived. No time to rest, there was much to do. Leaving Hasan and his new slave to give out the tents and set them up, Seto went to help dig the firepit. His poor clan was mostly orphans at first but now he had a strong fighting force and slaves. Soon they would be strong enough to take a territory and be nomads no longer.
As the sun reached its zenith, the camp was ready. Most had retreated into the tents for afternoon rest. Resting on his new pillows and linens, Seto rose when Hasan dragged in the slave. Walking towards the smaller man, Seto assessed his slave. Small almost feminine but definitely male. Even in chains, he stood with defiance in his eyes. His eyes... Seto was struck breathless by the violet depths. Looming over the smaller man, Seto took ahold of his chin and forced the man to look up at him. The softest skin, softer than any woman’s. Letting the silence weigh heavy for the ‘prince’, Seto leaned in closer, his thick hands cupping the soft cheek. Tracing his thumb over even softer lips, tinged red with wine. The faint scent of honey and myrrh in his hair. The small man screamed privilege. All the thing Seto and his people had to struggle and fight for this man to have. Holding himself taunt, his anger at his enemy making Seto’s hands vibrated as he caressed down the slender arm. He could easily hurt the pampered Egyptian.
Switching from the Arabic his people spoke to the Coptic language of the Egyptians, Seto spoke to his pretty, new little slave. “I am Seto, your new master, little slave. Serve me well and you will be ransomed back to your people intact. Anger me and I will break you.”
