Chapter Three

Osahar cursed under his breath and picked up his pace. Baniti had sent word to meet him, and he was running late. There was a feast at the palace, and he had been able to slip away, but there were too many people wanting to stop and talk. As a scribe, he was party to many discussions but he was not allowed to tell other people although it didn't stop them from asking.

A group of dancing girls provided the perfect distraction. He managed to get away and into the grounds, avoiding the irrigation channels, and headed to the walled terrace where he often sat to work in the afternoon when the priests were busy with their prayers and the light was getting poor inside. Baniti was waiting for him, and as always when he saw him Osahar's heart began to beat a little quicker. He couldn't believe some days how lucky he was, Baniti was so attractive, tall and lean, with a grace fitting his status. Even though they'd been lovers for several years, he still got the same thrill when he saw him.

"There you are," Baniti said, and Osahar went willingly into his arms. "The potion has been sitting for three days, are you ready?"

"Yes! I have lost track of time, I didn't realise it would be ready tonight, this is wonderful news."

"I would ride the back of the beetle and roll the sun across the sky myself to make sure I get to keep you by my side, and now we can. Shall we go?"

"To your rooms?"

Baniti rubbed his nose against his. "Yes, everything is set up. After we perform the final step, it is complete, and then I can make love to you on our new sheets."

"Then we should hurry. I can't wait to be underneath you, begging."

With a grin, Baniti grabbed his hand and then set off to the compound where the senior clerics lived. He spent most of his nights with Baniti, truth be told, more nights there than in his own quarters. It would not be too long before Baniti would have bigger rooms and Osahar would move in, then he could spend every night in Baniti's arms.

A few minutes later they were back inside, Baniti closing the door behind them. Osahar noticed a tray of figs and his stomach rumbled. Baniti laughed. "Eat before you are too weak to be of use. I have everything set up and all we need are a few drops of blood then we can complete the spell."

He devoured three figs in close succession while Baniti collected a gold plate and knife and sat beside him at the low table. "What's that for?" he asked, licking the stickiness from the figs off his fingers.

"I think it easier to collect a few drops of our blood on the plate and then place the ushabti in it and say the spell."

"You are always so practical."

"That is why we are so perfect for one another. You are the dreamer, and I will find a way to make the dreams come true."

He trusted Baniti to know what was best, and held out his left hand. "Take the blood from this one, I have much to write tomorrow, and a wound would make it difficult."

He must have sounded nervous because Baniti reached out and stroked his cheek. "No need to worry, my beautiful one. The gods are on our side."

The knife was sharp and the prick small. Baniti squeezed a few drops of blood from his finger. He sucked at the wound as Baniti repeated the action on his own hand, and the vibrant red of their blood combined. "What's next?"

"I will go and get the ushabti and then we will recite the spell together."

He watched Baniti stand and head into his workroom. Baniti had heard there might be a way for them to be together in their afterlife, had spoken to a mutual friend who had suggested someone who might have an answer, and then they'd learnt the pharaoh had a similar idea and Osahar had been desperate to agree. He loved Baniti with all his heart and soul. He had never felt such desire and affection for anyone, no one before Baniti had touched him. Osahar had thought he'd die unhappy and alone as he didn't think anyone else would want him. He was not important, a scribe of note but not a priest like Baniti. They were happy, and he would spend his life and eternity to ensure it would continue.

Baniti reappeared carrying a plain wooden casket. "All is ready. Let us sit together and say the spell. Light the oil pans and add some herbs, I think we should make this moment special."

Osahar moved quickly to do as asked and the two of them sat opposite each other with the casket between them. Baniti picked up the ushabti and placed it on the plate in the pool of their blood before taking its tiny head between his thumb and finger as Osahar reached and held its feet. He had memorised the words, he would never forget them. Together they spoke the spell that would link them beyond their mortal lives. "In life and death we are together, no mortal path will limit us, and we will journey to the edge of time. Blessed be the eternal heart, bind souls never to be apart. Through the ages we will always be as one."

A feeling like warm oil flowing across his skin made him let out a small moan. A tingle started at his fingertips, scurried over his arms, across his chest and into his belly, where it curled around and pulsed three times before ebbing away. He looked to see Baniti's reaction and saw pure delight spread across Baniti's face.

"I think it worked," he said.

"We have been granted a great gift." Baniti grinned and placed the ushabti into the casket. "I am part of the prayer group who is readying the burial chamber. We'll be blessing the inner chamber at sunrise in two days' time and I will place our little friend in his new home then."

Osahar couldn't believe how perfect everything was. "We should celebrate."

Osahar crawled over and slid into Baniti's lap and they shared a deep and passionate kiss. He wanted more, and from the firmness of Baniti's manhood, so did he. He rocked his hips and with a growl, Baniti tipped him backwards.

Callum woke with a start. He was aching hard, his cock responding to the dream. He must stop drinking so much before he retired for the night. His dream was so vivid, it was almost as if he could smell the lotus blossom still, and his lips tingled at the intensity of the kiss. He'd never experienced anything of its sort. He presumed he dreamed often, but he seldom remembered them.

The setting was a strange one too, a royal court, but nothing like King George's. Instead of damp London, he'd been in a dry, hot place with pyramids and grand buildings and statues. The vibrant colours and life weren't like the dusty remains he'd heard of from the archaeologists whose lectures he'd attended, but as if the place had been newly built. His mind wandered back to the evening before, and the little stone figure Dominic Fairweather had given him as a placeholder for his winnings. Maybe that had triggered his dream, his imagination could be on the overactive side at times and coupled with the beauty of a man like Dominic, it was no wonder his mind gifted him with such visions while he slept.

By the lightness of his room, it was a good time to go about his ablutions. He checked his pocket watch he'd left on his bedside. It was after nine, which was later than he tended to rise. But he felt no residual sluggishness, and he was refreshed, so there was no need to idle even if he didn't have any firm plans .

His valet entered the room carrying a jug of water for his wash. "Good morning, sir. Would you like me to bring your breakfast?"

"Yes, please, Hemmit. I'll take my mail and any messages as well."

"Certainly, sir. Do you wish to shave before dressing?"

He gave his chin a rub. "Not this morning."

"Very well, I will return shortly with breakfast, then lay out your clothes."

It had long been his habit to take his first meal of the day in his rooms before he dressed, it allowed him space to think and to be prepared for what lay ahead. He would often join his father in his offices, although that had not been his intention for today—he was working on a project that could distract him from the dream.

Callum finished off a small slice of honey cake and his tea, the last of his letters read—mainly updates from friends and relatives and invites to various gatherings. He was now ready to finish getting dressed and maybe take the air in a nearby park. A restlessness sat about him, an unwelcome and strange fellow he wasn't used to entertaining.

A soft cough alerted him to his valet reappearing. He must be distracted if Hemmit was able to sneak up on him. Hemmit held out a silver salver. "This arrived for you just now, sir. A servant is waiting for a reply."

He picked it up and opened the letter:

Mr Gething,

If it is convenient, I will call this morning at 11 at your London abode to make good on my promise.

Regards,

Dominic Fairweather.

"It appears we will have a guest." He handed the letter to Hemmit.

"Should I lay out your new blue waistcoat? Lord Fairweather is the Duke of Richmond's youngest son, and I had chosen your day attire based on there being no plan for you to receive visitors."

"Yes, please. I should look my best for an important man." Not to mention attractive. "Send word back that the time and place is convenient and I would be happy to receive him."

Dominic had said he would arrange for his IOU to be settled, but Callum hadn't thought he would attend himself, rather he'd send a servant to retrieve his property and give Callum his winnings. He couldn't say he was disappointed, and he would have no concerns about getting to know him better. Be it as a useful friend, or maybe even more. His interest in Dominic surprised him, seldom was he this enamoured so quickly. He could admit his head was turned, yet it felt more than pure physical attraction, which was bizarre as he couldn't claim to know Dominic, although he felt as if he did.