The evening was wonderfully cool, the breeze coming in off of the Nile light and airy. The summer months would soon be upon the land of Khemet, and the blistering daytime heat would return, but for now the early evening was comfortable and calm.
Pharaoh Adjo, having taken care of the most pressing business of the day, was relaxing out on one of the large palace terraces. It was one of his favorite places in the whole of the palace - outside, and yet away from view of the general public, the alabaster overlook provided a magnificent view of the Nile Delta. It was quiet and well shaded, and the perfect retreat at the end of a long day’s work.
The talk among his advisers earlier had been focused on foreign matters. There was some concern that certain nations had not yet sent ambassadors or diplomats, nor formally recognized the legitimacy of the new Pharaoh. Now that matters had mostly settled down domestically, it was important to establish contact with foreign rulers. Alliances must be re-established and strengthened, and trade agreements negotiated.
Adjo stretched, silently mulling over the various opinions presented by his advisers as he plucked a piece of fruit from a nearby tray. Looking out over the expanse of the Delta and beyond, he frowned slightly at the sight of a vessel on the horizon. It was difficult for him to tell at this distance, but the basic shape of the ship told him that it was not of Khemetian make.
He sat watching intently for several minutes, as the ship slowly moved closer to the harbors. His tail twitched and ears perked as the shape of not just one, but two other vessels close behind the first also came into view. An escort. That could be promising, if it meant that one of the nations across the sea was sending an ambassador.
But before Adjo could give much thought to which nation it might be, the horizon suddenly seemed to blossom with the sails of ships, as if a field of closed flowers had all opened together at the god’s command. White sails lined the horizon, and now there was no mistaking their make, or their destination.
A shout from inside the palace halls told the Pharaoh that others had spotted the ships’ approach as well. He would have to move quickly. They would all have to move quickly - how much time did they have before the first of the warships reached the Harbor of Ahket?
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With the festival finally at an end the Sphinxes of Ahket, exhausted from days of revelry but more happy and content than they had been in years, were busy cleaning up the last remains of their celebrations. This year’s Heb~Bastet had been the largest in living memory, but now peasants swept the streets clean and vendors took their carts home and put their Bastet specific merchandise away for another year. At the Temple of Bastet, the statue had been returned to its place within the sacred inner chambers, and anyone who visited the courtyard would find only a small group of acolytes who were busy sweeping up the now wilted and dried out pile of flowers.
In all the calm activity, the soldiers weren’t really noticed at first - there were always some out and about; either off duty soldiers looking for a tavern, archers on the walls, or city guards patrolling the streets. But slowly a collective awareness seemed to spread through the native citizenry, a recognition that something wasn’t quite right. Soldiers and messengers were suddenly trotting through the streets with a hurried purpose that seemed barely restrained from a run, and none took the time to stop and give nearby sphinxes the chance to ask questions.
Uncertain of what might be happening, worried looks passed between neighbors, and companions put their heads together and shared speculations in whispers. But in a city as large as Ahket, most secrets and mysteries don’t stay that way for long. The first deckhand came running up the main thoroughfare, breathing hard and with a harried look on his face. At first the nearby sphinxes looked at him in a wary manner, unsure what a rough deckhand might be up to in the early hours of the evening if he wasn’t already drunk, but the first words out of his mouth quickly squashed all such thoughts.
“Ships! Warships!” He gulped for breath and pointed back towards the harbor. “Hundreds of them, coming right for us!” Gasps spread through the small crowd, and frightened sphinxes began to quickly dart for home, hoping that they might be able to get a look at the harbor from their own roof or a neighbors’ - could the deckhand really be telling the truth?
More deckhands and sailors followed, and as quick as wildfire the news of the approaching ships had spread all throughout the city. The number of ships varied in the tellings, typically growing more exaggerated as the tales passed from one sphinx to another, but underneath all of the rumor and speculation one truth remained uncontested: War was coming to Ahket.
