Crescent Moon Read Free Page B

boat, his long light-brown thighs lifting
the hem of his knee-length shendyt as he moved with purpose toward
her.
    Her breath caught, and she halted before they would collide, dipping her
head. “Welcome to Amun’s house,” she blurted. “We are honored by our king’s
visit.”
    “Pharaoh is dead,” he said, his words blunt, his tone cold.
    Her head lifted, shock loosening her jaw. For a moment, the sickening
tightness in her gut eased. Pharaoh wouldn’t be seeking the pleasure of her
body. “King Selk is dead?”
    “His name will not be spoken.” The vizier gave a harsh shake of his head.
“Not now, not ever again.”
    She narrowed her eyes, knowing instantly something was very wrong.
Speaking the names of the dead empowered their spirits, increasing their status
in the afterlife. To never speak their names cursed them. “I don’t understand.”
    “Now isn’t the time for explanations.”
    His glance swept her and then returned to her face, which she knew had
grown pale.
    Perhaps he read something in her eyes, because as he stared, his gaze
probed hers. Gradually, his tight features softened. His head tilted to the
side. “Khepri, Amun’s wife, we have come for you.”
    The words flowed like honey, like a lover’s caress, or so she imagined.
She couldn’t help the blush heating her cheeks. The vizier was a charismatic
man. He’d visited twice. Once when Nephthys had named her successor, and the
next time to celebrate her union with Amun. After both visits, she’d spent days
in prayer to erase the temptation his handsome features and strong body posed.
Then she realized what he’d said. With a gasp, she drew back. “You’ve come for
me? But I never leave the temple.”
    “You are The God’s Wife. You are needed for the procession. We take the
nameless one to bury him. As one close to the gods, your presence is required
for our appeal to the gods.”
    Something in his voice raised the hairs that shouldn’t be on the back of
her neck. Not that his words or tone were ominous, but she couldn’t shake the
feeling he withheld something. “ He had his own priest at court and you are a former High Priest of Set. What do you need with me? You can say the
prayers to send him on his journey.”
    “We need someone pure of heart and body to fight an evil.”
    She shook her head. In her role, she could only offer prayer. No more or
less than he could do. Unless he knew... “I am no warrior.”
    “And yet, you have trained …” he said, his gaze narrowing.
    She blinked, wondering how he might have heard, but deciding on the spot
not to deny her skills. “Nephthys foresaw I would lead a great battle. She
interpreted the battle would likely take place in defense of the temple.” At
his continued stare, she lifted her chin higher. “She insisted that everyone
inside the walls learn to use a lance and a bow and to use our hands and feet
to protect our temple against a threat—against invaders, not some mystical
battle against evil.”
Breathless now she’d vented her unease, she waited for a response.
    The vizier’s expression remained unchanged, but he fisted his hands on
his hips. “Pharaoh is dead. Do you know what that makes me?”
    She shook her head slowly, resenting the satisfaction curling up one side
of his firm mouth.
    “His death makes me Pharaoh in his stead—until his successor is installed.”
He leaned toward her, his features once again taut. “Board my barge.”

Chapter Three
    Board my barge.
    At his words, softly but emphatically spoken, her breath caught and held.
This close, she felt his breath on her face, smelled his male musk. The naked
expanse of his broad chest, leaning so closely they would have touched if she
hadn’t drawn away, was mesmerizing. The tension in his face was … thrilling . Things she should not have
noted. But she was human, and he was standing so near she could feel the heat
rolling off his gleaming chest. In that frozen moment, he represented the
living