One Character Is Not Like the Other Character Because...

Since I like to write the same general type of adventure stories whether I’m doing science fiction romance or ancient Egyptian paranormal romance, I do have to pay attention to making the hero and heroine in each book different from the others I've written. Not all real life Special Forces soldiers are carbon copies of each other, any more than every businesswoman has the same outlook and knowledge…which holds true for ancient temple priestesses as well!

I spend quite a bit of time thinking about the character, in terms of their life experiences previous to the moments in time captured in my book. Why are they the person they’ve come to be, and how does that life experience shape the way they’re going to handle what gets thrown at them in the course of the book? I don’t make notes or keep spreadsheets (because that’s not me, folks) but I know enough in my head to write the person’s journey.

For example, in Priestess of the Nile, Merys the heroine is a bit naïve, does her best to keep some semblance of worship going at an abandoned temple.  It’s her connection to her late mother, and the one thing her unpleasant stepmother can’t take away. So her choices and the risks she takes stem from that situation. The love of Sobek the Crocodile God (in his human form) is everything to her.

 In the sequel, Magic of the Nile, her younger halfsister Tyema is now the high priestess of a full-blown temple, running all the associated businesses as well as the ceremonies.  Tyema was a victim of an

enemy attack on her village when she was young. When I first started working on the book I felt it would be unrealistic for her to have reached adulthood with no aftereffects from the terrible ordeal,  even though she grew up to take over the temple and runs its complex business affairs at the god’s direct command.  She’s structured her life to be in control at all times, as much as possible, to avoid triggering or even revealing the symptoms of her malady. The coping plan works for her until Sahure, a handsome, noble warrior, is sent by Pharaoh on assignment to her remote province. Complications for Tyema – good and bad – spiral from there.

Although Tyema’s anxiety is only one aspect of the book’s plot, the condition and the lengths she goes to cope drive some of the decisions.  The ancient Egyptians wouldn’t have understood an anxiety attack the way we do today, and they certainly had no idea how to effectively deal with it. “Cures” tended to be heavily based in magic and some fundamentally misguided theories of female anatomy.  Even Sobek, who takes care of the Nile and is a force of nature, doesn’t understand the struggles of his priestess. “She knows I watch over her - why isn’t that enough?”  the god asks in the novel.

Tyema isn’t magically cured by the end of the novel because that’s not realistic in any world, but she and Sahure have a better understanding of what she’s dealing with, and what she’s capable of.

I wish I had time today to talk about the research and thinking I did to arrive at the human version of the Crocodile God (what motivates him, what would attract him to a human woman, what’s he afraid of…) but alas, this week’s topic is done….so there you have my somewhat organix "think it out"  approach to developing and differentiating my characters.

April is National Anxiety Month, which is partly why I’ve focused on the issue today. I'm one of the 40 million people who have anxiety issues, mine triggered by a bad car crash years ago. My priestess heroine had few choices 3500 years ago, but nowadays there are things to be done if anxiety becomes a problem in conducting daily life.  For more information on anxiety, I encourage you to check out the National Institutes of Health “AnxietyDisorders” page. Don’t hesitate to seek help if you’re having issues that could be anxiety-related. Talking to your family physician is a great place to start!

Show vs. Tell When Writing Emotions

I have no very scientific process for showing my readers that the characters in my books have emotions. When I have a scene to write that's going to demand a lot of emotion on the page, I try to mentally place myself in the moment (versus just writing with the flow, which is good for my first draft but doesn't encompass all the little movements and stage business and etc., that will help the reader relate to what the character is feeling. Takes second draft for me to get there usually!).

I'm sure I still have a LOT to learn about showing versus telling but trust me, I've come a long way since my first stab at writing!

Rather than tell here, I'll show. A scene from Magic of the Nile, set in 1550 BCE:

          Tyema forced her lips to curve in apparent good humor and nodded at the appropriate points as best she could, finishing the day’s work and finally escaping into the private garden a few hours later. The whole time her fingers itched to pull the private letter out of her pocket and read it. The baby was unusually restless as well, perhaps sensing her own inner turmoil.

            She sat on her favorite bench, under a large acacia tree, next to an unruly bed of chrysanthemums. Taking the scroll out of her pocket and balancing it in one hand, she stared at it for a long moment.  Resting the other hand on top of her swollen abdomen, she said, “This is from your father, little one. Do you think he’d write me if he bore me ill will?” It warmed her to think she’d been on Sahure’s mind, wherever he was. “Well, only one way to find out.” 

         She broke the seal with her fingernail, sending little shards of red wax falling to the pavement, and unrolled the scroll.  The writing was bold, slashing black hieratic.  From Sahure, Captain in Pharaoh’s Own Regiment to Tyema, High Priestess of Sobek in the Ibis Nome, may the gods grant you life, prosperity, health. Now posted by Pharaoh to take command of the Southern Oasis. I think of you often.  His personal cartouche was scrawled at the bottom of the papyrus. 

               A bit disappointed, Tyema flipped the scroll over to be sure she hadn’t missed anything. “Not lover-like in the least.” She remembered how proud he was of his station as a warrior. “You never claimed to be a poet, did you, my love?” Shaking her head, she levered herself from the bench. It was frustrating to be so big and awkward. “Still, baby, it’s a tremendous promotion for him.  Huge responsibilities.”

 And the dangerous, remote Southern Oasis isn’t a place he’d take a wife to, so maybe he hasn’t gotten married yet.  Immediately Tyema took herself to task. It was no business of hers where he went, what he did, who he did it with. She’d refused him for her own compelling reasons and nothing had changed. Glancing at her belly as the baby kicked hard, she laughed. “Well, all right, one thing has changed, even if Sahure remains unaware.” 

As she walked into her bedroom, her smile faded. Now that I know where he is, I’m going to have to tell him about our child. He deserves to know. Deciding today wasn’t the day for composing a demanding letter, she pushed the thought away. Time to change out of her simple dress into a robe suitable for singing the evening devotions. But first she put the scroll inside her ivory-and-turquoise embellished keepsake chest, pushing the papyrus to the back, under her tattered doll from childhood and the dried red petals from the flower Sahure had placed in her hair.

Or here's a scene from Escape From Zulaire, set in the far future in outer space, where the

heroine is in a very tight spot:

She stared past the guard to watch the landscape flowing by, trying to make plans, but ideas tumbled one after the other in her mind, useless fragments. The prospect of dying like some old-time sacrifice was too terrifying for her mind to hold. Andi felt herself detach from reality as the vehicle came to a smooth stop beside a partially harvested field of grain. She had the sensation of watching someone else yanked from the vehicle and dragged across the rough ground. That woman twisted, struggled and screamed curses at her captors in four different languages, but Andi remained safe in her quiet cocoon of unreality.

This is not happening to me.

Everything will be all right.

Somehow.

At the center of the field the guards yanked her to a halt, forcing Andi to kneel. Small pebbles and jutting roots dug into her lower legs and knees, the pain snapping her back into harsh reality—this was happening to her, and it was all too real.

As the men held her in the kneeling position, her enemy clutched his long hunt­ing knife in his right hand. A wave of cold determination gave her renewed strength. No, he’s not doing that to me. I won’t make my death easy for him.

Fueled by adrenaline, Andi fought to stand, surprising her captors and actually breaking loose for a second or two. 

I Love Research From Chariots to Crocodiles

...but I can get lost in it sometimes! I do the most in depth research for my paranormal novels set in ancient Egypt. It's not that I don't research some specific things for the science fiction, but the Egypt of thousands of years calls to me. I maintain a large library of actual books, most of which I list on the my blog under the topic of overall historical accuracy. At some point I realized I probably owned a lot of the books I’d need if I was pursuing a degree in Egyptology (but facing no tests).

So how do I pursue this research? I don’t write strictly historical novels because I wanted to have the Egyptian gods and goddesses take direct action in the events. Right away this takes me outside the boundaries of what’s acceptable for historically accurate. I don’t want my novels to be “wallpaper historicals” either though, where I just toss in a few cool looking Egyptian words and make reference to the pyramids, pat the Sphinx on the head and I’m done. I want the Reader to be in ancient Egypt, even if it’s my paranormal version. There are some plot conveniences I want, like talking about actual coins (which the actual deben system was not). I do some deliberate anachronisms to serve my stories.

Let’s take my latest novel MAGIC OF THE NILE. Since it’s a sequel to PRIESTESS OF THE NILE, I’d already done the research into the Crocodile God Sobek, hero of the first book and major player in the second. But for the new book, since we spend time at the temple my heroine Tyema runs, I researched how Sobek’s temples were organized 4000 years ago, a lot more details about crocodiles, how processions were conducted, which deities were important in the capital city of Thebes, the hierarchy of an Egyptian temple’s priesthood, what Pharaoh would wear for different activities, what foods would be served on a big feast day…

I needed my hero Sahure to be dashing, so he’s a charioteer, which was about as dashing as you could get in 1500 BCE. That led to research on chariots, including a wonderful NOVA special, called “Building Pharaoh’s Chariot.” (Available on dvd.) Watching a team of British researchers attempt to reconstruct the chariot of ancient times, with the help of Egyptian craftsmen, basically by studying tomb paintings and the few actual surviving chariots, was amazing.  But where does Sahure need to drive in his gleaming, horse-drawn vehicle?

Turns out there was a chain of fortifications along various Egyptian borders, including at the Southern Oasis of Kharga, located on a major caravan route. I’d already researched caravans pretty heavily for a sequence in DANCER OF THE NILE. That’s one nice thing about writing a series – I can build on the tidbits I’ve learned before.  Also, research suggests plot points and vice versa. Since I’m a seat-of-the-pants writer, this approach works for me! Now I know all about Kharga, including the topography and weather.

At one point, Sahure needs to tell Tyema about a battle he’s fought in beside Pharaoh. I drew a suitable tale to adapt from translations of  4000 year old eyewitness accounts of actual warfare and gave my character the right ‘memories’ to share with the heroine. I also needed to be able to talk about his weapons and tactics. Back to researching bows and arrows of the time…

Were the native people of the Southern Oasis descended from the goddess Sekhmet? They apparently thought so, which sent me off to ponder all the cool facets of her powers and background.  In many cases there are alternate versions of the myths surrounding an Egyptian deity so I’m free to choose the aspects that work for my story and to extrapolate other ideas for my plot.  

A lot of the research I do never shows up directly in the novels, so if by now you’ve been thinking that my books must be pretty dry, dusty tomes, possibly akin to the textbooks, let me reassure you. I have to be able to put myself in the headspace of ancient Egypt, so I can create characters who are believable residents of that time and place, even while they’re having these amazing adventures. I don’t have to show off all my research (except maybe in blog posts LOL). If it doesn’t serve the plot, it doesn’t go in the book, but the knowledge might influence the story’s direction.

It’s trickier than you might think though and I know I don’t always succeed. Let me give you an example from the first draft of DANCER OF THE NILE: “The chariot bounced over iron hard ruts…” The problem? The Egyptians didn’t have iron at this point in time! So I changed it to “bronze hard”…but to a modern reader that’s an unfamiliar phrase and it took me completely out of the flow when I read it. Eventually the line became: “The chariot jounced over deep, hard ruts…” 

So there's my example of how researching one thing takes me to the next and so on and so forth...

And below the art is the NOVA special on chariots:

>

And Sometimes There's No Dialog

This week I'm going to share a video -  my shiny new book trailer for Magic of the Nile, which just went live yesterday.

Now Magic of the Nile isn't completely off-topic. Here's a short excerpt from the book, where the conversation in a non-action scene is definitely carrying some double meanings. Tyema the High Priestess and Captain Sahure spent the evening attending a festival together and she never told him who she really was. But now he knows. The temple scribe doesn't know any of this and has already tried to defer Sahure from meeting with Tyema until the following day, to preserve the precious schedule. (Petty bureaucrats existed in all ages!)

She caught her breath as Sahure sauntered in, resplendent in his full uniform, the golden falcon badge prominent on the leather straps crossing his broad chest, scarlet cloak swirling around his legs. He was even more handsome than she’d remembered. He bowed, “Good morning to you, my lady.”

            “And to you, captain.” With great effort, she kept a smile from forming on her lips. Unfamiliar heat pulsed in her core and she suppressed the urge to shift her hips in response.

            “I appreciate your seeing me today instead of tomorrow,” he said, staring at her with narrowed eyes.

            Oh, I couldn’t wait till tomorrow. Tyema remained regally seated in her chair with an effort, curling her fingers tight against the desire to touch him. “I’m sure your business is urgent.”

            “Indeed, I’m here at the command of Pharaoh, very pressing affairs.” He raised his eyebrows and gave a sideways glance at the scribe.

            “You may go, Jemkhufu,” she said, following Sahure’s line of sight.

            “But, my lady, what if notes need to be taken?” The scribe was startled, his eyes opening wide and his mouth hanging open. Tyema never met with anyone alone, other than the god Sobek, so she wasn’t surprised by Jemkhufu’s reaction. Swallowing hard, the scribe glared at Sahure while questioning her order for privacy again. “Are you sure you won’t need me?”

            She tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair. “I’ll call you when we’re done.”

            The scribe gathered up his tablets, rolls of blank papyrus and sharpened quills in an untidy armful and backed from the room, closing the door. She heard him complaining to the guard about the unscheduled audience interfering with the day as the portal closed.

            Before she could say anything, Sahure was standing in front of her, his arms caging her in the chair. “And I thought Theban ladies played games,” he said. “Imagine my surprise this morning to see that the high priestess of Sobek was none other than my little waif from the previous evening. She whom I thought to be Ema was in reality the legendary and rarely seen Tyema herself.”

            “Waif?” Tyema couldn’t decide whether to be amused or insulted. True the plain dress wasn’t the best garment in her wardrobe but surely it didn’t give such an insignificant impression?

            “Were you laughing at me the entire evening?” His tone was cold. “Did you enjoy your masquerade?”

            She put one hand on his chest, trying to push him away, but under her fingers his body was solid muscle, an unyielding wall. “I’m sorry, I didn’t set out to deceive you.”

            He stared at her for a long moment before releasing the chair. He backed up a step. Hands on hips, he asked, “Then why the lie?”

Why indeed? Here's the trailer:

Inspiration Is Full of Twists, Turns & Research

For my science fiction novels I tend to be fascinated by an event, which leads me to that first "What if" question and then I'm off and running. So far I've been inspired by the sinking of the Titanic, the 1857 Sepoy Incident in India and various other real occurrences. I'll be reading or watching the news and suddenly my eyes glaze over and I start thinking in terms of a plot. I always begin from the point of what I would have done or what it must have been like and go from there.

WRECK OF THE NEBULA DREAM was inspired by the idea of retelling the story of Titanic, but set in space. I like to have a Special Forces guy as my hero in the SF novels, so I had to figure out why he'd be on board this luxury liner in the first place. Once I knew the answer to that, then the plot began coming together. At some point I realized I had to stop and design my spaceship, because the characters were moving all over and between decks in their efforts to save lives and escape the wrecked vessel. So I'd better know if the cargo hold was on level ten or level 8! I researched cruise ships, aircraft carriers and certain features on the Titanic, all of which gave me plot points and ideas. I drew a really bad schematic of my ship and kept writing.

For the paranormal novels I set in ancient Egypt, I tend to start with a situation (a dancer, captured by the enemy...or a priestess who finds it a personal challenge to be anywhere but inside the safe confines of her temple, suddenly sent to Pharaoh's Court....).

Let’s go with the latter situation, which became my latest novel MAGIC OF THE NILE. Since it’s a sequel to PRIESTESS OF THE NILE, I’d already done the research into the Crocodile God Sobek, hero of the first book and major player in the second. (My inspiration there having been the realization that the god was a shifter, which led to the question what kind of woman would catch such a being's fancy? One with a beautiful voice, since crocodiles have excellent hearing.) But for this book, since we spend time at the temple Tyema runs, I researched how Sobek’s temples were organized 4000 years ago, a lot more details about crocodiles, how processions were conducted, which deities were important in the capital city of Thebes, the hierarchy of an Egyptian temple’s priesthood, what Pharaoh would wear for different activities, what foods would be served on a big feast day…

I needed my hero Sahure to be very dashing, so he’s a charioteer, which was about as dashing as you could get in 1500 BCE. That led to research on chariots, including a wonderful NOVA special, called “Building Pharaoh’s Chariot.” (Available on dvd.) Watching a team of British researchers attempt to reconstruct the chariot of ancient times, with the help of Egyptian craftsmen, basically by studying tomb paintings and the few actual surviving chariots, was amazing.  But where does Sahure need to be in his gleaming, horse-drawn vehicle?

Well, turns out there was a chain of fortifications along various Egyptian borders, including at the Southern Oasis of Kharga, located on a major caravan route. I’d already researched caravans pretty heavily for a sequence in DANCER OF THE NILE. That’s one nice thing about writing a series – I can build on the tidbits I’ve learned before.  Also, research suggests plot points and vice versa. Since I’m a seat-of-the-pants writer, this approach works for me! Now I know all about Kharga, including the topography and weather.

At one point, Sahure needs to tell Tyema about a battle he’s fought in beside Pharaoh. I drew a suitable tale to adapt from translations of  4000 year old eyewitness accounts of actual warfare and gave my character the right ‘memories’ to share with the heroine. So I also needed to be able to talk about his weapons and tactics. Back to researching bows and arrows of the time…

Were the native people of the Southern Oasis descended from the goddess Sekhmet? They certainly thought so, which sent me off to ponder all the cool facets of her powers and background.  Sekhmet became a major player in certain events that take place in my book. In many cases there are alternate versions of the myths surrounding an Egyptian deity so I’m free to choose the aspects that work for my story and to extrapolate other ideas for my plot.  

A lot of the research I do never shows up directly in the novels, so if by now you’re thinking "Wow, her books must be dusty tomes!" hopefully I can reassure you. I have to be able to put myself in the headspace of ancient Egypt, so I can create characters who are believable residents of that time and place, even while they’re having these amazing adventures. I don’t have to show off all my research (except maybe in blog posts LOL). If it doesn’t serve the plot, it doesn’t go in the book, but the knowledge might influence the story’s direction.

For my latest science fiction romance, however, it was a single photo that made me pause and ask myself, "What if?" 89K words later and about to publish in August, turns out there was a lot of action, romance and adventure in that what if!

Do the Dancers Go Before the Crocodile God or After?

Ok, over the last few weeks I've offered up all the conference and panel insights and suggestions I have, so today, I can only offer you a scene from Magic of the Nile wherein the main character Tyema, High Priestess of Sobek from a rural province, is in Thebes. She's participating in a meeting  where they're planning a con - I mean a one day festival with parade! - to honor the Crocodile God. She'll be donating a special animal to the local temple at the god's request. The priests from the temple in Thebes aren't any too happy. (Edekh is Chief Scribe to Pharaoh.)

The door across the room, which only Pharaoh himself could use, opened and Nat-re-Akhte entered the chamber, saying as he crossed the gilded threshold, “No need to genuflect, this isn’t a formal audience.” Today he wore no crown but had the golden uraeus on his brow, held in place by a golden circlet. He carried the blue-and-gold crook and flail of his rank, ritually positioned across his chest.

            Tyema stood aside as Nat-re-Akhte walked past her to his chair, which was a golden marvel, depicting intricate scenes of himself with various gods that were far too detailed for her to fully absorb in one glance. The chair rested on intricately carved lion paws, and was set on a slightly raised dais at the head of the gleaming wooden table. The ever present fan bearers took up station behind Pharaoh and Edekh walked to a place at his right hand.

            “You may be seated,” Pharaoh said, placing the crook and flail on the table in front of him. “Which day is going to be the most propitious for this ceremony?” He gave Tyema a conspiratorial smile. “My zookeeper tells me the beast has already devoured all the fish in his pond and they’ve had to restock.”

            “I’ve cast the omens, Great One, and the day after tomorrow is the ideal date for the new ruler of the bask to be presented to the people of Thebes and installed at our temple,” said the High Priest, displaying no hesitation.

            Pharaoh nodded and Edekh made a note. Tyema sat back in her chair as the men discussed the arrangements for the procession. The city officials were also silent for the most part, apparently in the meeting to receive instructions, not to make suggestions. She had no opinion about the parade, the local Sobek priests knew their own city and how to organize things here. Perhaps she would have put the second troupe of dancing girls before the sacred image of Sobek, not after as they were going to do, but Tyema had no feeling it mattered to the Crocodile God, so she only nodded when Pharaoh courteously asked her opinion.

            The high priest continued his rundown of the sequence of events. “And when we arrive at the temple, I’ll greet you with the hymn of the seventh hour—”

            “After I’ve sung the hymn of the Abundant Nile,” Tyema said. She felt a tightening in her gut, sure now they would be in opposition. He’d rather I played no part in the day’s ceremonies. He probably wishes I’d just sent the crocodile with only old Hotepre for escort. Well, for that matter, so do I, but the Great One wanted it otherwise.

            The older priest cleared his throat for a moment, blinking. Clearly he wasn’t used to being interrupted. “No need for you to exert yourself, I’m sure. It’s one of the older, less well known hymns after all.  You can sing a brief blessing on the bask at the end of the ceremonies, if you wish. Now then, as I was saying—”

            “The Great One Sobek particularly enjoys the ‘Abundant Nile’, since it praises his efforts to keep the life giving waters flowing freely,” Tyema said, cutting across his words, her voice clear. “As he is sending his crocodile to you, personally selected by him, we need to thank him appropriately.”

            The men from the Theban temple gawked at her. Color becoming even hotter in his gaunt cheeks, the high priest blew out a breath. “My dear girl, we’re duly conscious of the honor the Great One does us here at Thebes. I merely see no need to slow the tempo of the ceremony with additional music. The crowd will naturally wish to see the crocodile installed in the pond as soon as possible.”

            “As High Priestess, it’s my responsibility to conduct the crocodile to your temple and to make the official transfer in proper order,” she said, not at all abashed by his dismissive manner. When it came to anything regarding her duty to Sobek, Tyema felt as if some measure of his strength ran in her veins, and no condescending old man from Thebes could silence her. “I’ll sing ‘Abundant Nile,’ after which you can sing whatever you feel is most appropriate to accept the gift of Sobek and then we’ll proceed to the pond. Whether our audience is one person or ten thousand people, we must honor the Great One Sobek properly.”

            “Well,” Pharaoh said, his voice solemn but his eyes twinkling, “The list of songs is decided then.”

            “Duly noted,” Edekh assured him as the palace scribe by his side made rapid inscriptions on his tablet. The temple scribe shot a wary look at his superiors, but then scratched some notes as well.

            There was an awkward moment of silence. Pharaoh raised his hand and gestured in a lazy circular motion at the priest. “Continue.”

            The man opened and closed his mouth several times before swallowing a sip of wine from the clay goblet his under priest handed him. “Um, yes, um, at the pond, we’ll open the crate—”

            “The child of Sobek doesn’t travel through Thebes in a crate,” Tyema interrupted.

            “You’re not seriously proposing to have a dangerous Nile crocodile carried loose in the procession, are you?” the old man spluttered.

            “Sobek has given me the gift of controlling his children of the Nile when circumstances warrant. I’ll ensure the animal remains calm during the parade through the city, docile until he’s installed in the pond,” Tyema said.

            “I’ve seen this gift or power in action, exactly as the Lady Tyema indicates,” Pharaoh agreed.

            “It would be most exciting,” said one of the younger priests, enthusiasm causing him to speak boldly, earning himself a glare from the High Priest. “Imagine the effect on the crowds, the crocodile on full display, yet posing no danger.”

            “Sobek has selected a magnificent animal to rule over your bask,” Tyema said. “The beast has the rare purple underbelly. It can only benefit your temple to have the people of Thebes behold this marvelous creature, not have him hidden away in a crate.”

            “Consequences will be on your head if this goes awry, if the beast causes injury,” the old priest said, his eyes flashing in anger. He bit his lip and glanced at Pharaoh, seeming to regret his outburst.

            Tyema laid a hand on the collar, touching the emeralds. “Where’s your faith in Sobek, the god we both serve?”

            “Any other concerns?” Pharaoh asked the high priest, his tone mild.

            “No, Great One. I’m satisfied with the arrangements,” he said, sounding as if he was forcing the words out one by one.

            “I’ll need to inspect the pond,” Tyema said, tapping her fingers on the table as she mentally reviewed her list of requirements. “I’m sure all your arrangements are in order, but I can’t bring Sobek’s gift to you with all the pomp and ceremony, only to find some problem in front of Pharaoh and the crowds.”

            Now she thought the old priest was going to have a full-on fit, especially as Pharaoh was nodding agreement with her. “Excellent forethought, Lady Tyema,” the ruler said. “Captain Sahure can conduct you and your crocodile keeper to the temple tomorrow morning, leaving the afternoon for any repairs or alterations to be made. On the appointed day, the palace will provide the usual beer, bread and meat for the afternoon feasting after the procession in honor of Sobek. Edekh will see to the distribution.” He rose, signaling the end of the meeting, and swept out of the chamber.

            Edekh remained, moving closer to Tyema as the high priest came around the table at her. Shaking a finger in her face, the man talked so fast he was spitting. “There’s nothing wrong with my temple’s pond, girl, and I don’t appreciate your trying to embarrass me in front of Pharaoh by suggesting there is.”

            The priest who’d agreed with Tyema before put a restraining hand on his elder’s arm. “I don’t think anyone took her words as carrying intent to insult, sir. The lady is being prudent, cautious with the Great One’s living gift to us.”

            “Sobek gave me the responsibility for his crocodile and I don’t take it lightly,” Tyema said. “I can’t.”

            “Some little nobody from the country, trying to make a place for herself here, no doubt,” the High Priest blustered on.

            “I’ve no desire to live here in Thebes. Running my own temple and managing my own concerns keeps me fully engaged,” Tyema answered, her voice sharp. She leaned toward him. “I speak directly to the god, to learn his will and desire. Surely you do the same?”

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Copyright Veronica Scott 2014