River of the Sun, Chapter Eight
The Unchosen Darkness
Darkness had just fallen when the Beak of Horus rounded the curve in the river and fixed its course on the stone landing of the Island of Gezirah al Nabatath. The ranks of the oarsmen, led by the Obion Guard, relaxed their stroke, feathering their oars as one. Menascare, known to all as the most trusted friend and arch mage of the Pharaoh elect, strode from the raised command point at the rear of the craft and stood beside his King-in-Rising in the prow, looking at the lights of torches which ringed the fringes of the temple island.
“A welcome, Majesty?” asked Menascare, seemingly recovered from his former collapse.
“No,” said the Pharaoh elect, “they could not know of our arrival. We travel in darkness for a reason…
“Then why their lights?”
“I think we join them at a fortuitous time.”
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