Rebellion Read Online Free PDF Page B

happily have rubbed against her-while ogling her with his eagle eyes. "What brings you here?" he demanded. She set her eyes demurely on the floor. "My master Thoth sent me hither." The guard grunted, then turned in communication with someone inside the apartment. "Got a girl out here-a peace offering from Thoth." A couple of coarse interpretations on that phrase came from within-and then an order. Outside, the guard gave out with a loud guffaw. "Search her?" he laughed. "She's got no place to hide anything!" Hathor was then ushered into a large marble chamber filled with warriors of Sebek's faction, obviously at play. The place stunk from a pungent combination of beer and sweat. Men shouted at the tops of their lungs, boasting, arguing, placing bets, all in counterpoint to the incessant rattling of dried knucklebones being tossed on the polished stone floor. As the crowd slowly became aware of Hathor's presence, the din subsided until finally the room was near dead silence, the men eating Hathor up with their eyes. One of Sebek's lieutenants reached him and whispered in his ear. The crocodile god's broad body lurched upright, his heavy face flushed from an excess of beer. "So, Thoth sent you, did he?" Hathor nodded. "And did he send a message with you?" Hathor shrugged, knowing it was a good effect. "Only that he sends me as a token of his high regard." "Well, he certainly knows how to choose a good ... gift. And he's wise in the choice of recipients as well." He turned to his followers with a coarse laugh.
    "He certainly wouldn't have enough woman-stuff of this quality to send to all contenders, would he, men?" A loud, boozy chorus of assent rose from the assembled warriors. "So perhaps you'll excuse me while I enjoy Thoth's offering ... alone." Sebek hooked a finger to her and set off across the room. Hathor trailed behind, her eyes still modestly downcast. She was impressed by the discipline evident in the troops.
    Although they hooted and howled, not a man of them moved to put a hand on the woman destined for their leader. Hathor left the large common room and followed Sebek to a more secluded chamber. The viceroy dropped onto a heavy divan and surveyed her with hot eyes. "Stay there," he said, gesturing for her to stop. "And turn around. I like to see what I'm getting." With a slow, sinuous movement she revolved before him, displaying herself beneath the wisp of linen she wore. Sebek's breathing was already heavy as he beckoned her forward. Hathor could feel his body heat as she came to a stop inches from the seated man.
    Sebek's hands darted out with the eagerness of a two-year-old unwrapping a present. One fist wrapped itself in the exiguous linen of her shift and yanked downward. As her only covering tore and pooled at her feet, Sebek's left hand curved around her hip to grasp a buttock and drag her forward those last few inches. His breath was hot on her belly as he crushed her to him. Even as Sebek pulled her forward, Hathor's hands were in motion. Her right hand lashed down at the arm holding her while her left slashed upward against Sebek's face. The razor-sharp glass bangles did their work. The viceroy's gashed arm slacked its grip, allowing Hathor to slip free. Her other attack opened Sebek's left cheek from the jawline almost to his eye. For a long count he sat frozen on the divan, staring at the blood. Then his face contorted with rage.
    "Bitch!" he muttered, starting to rise. Hathor's kick caught Sebek in the midsection, driving the air from his body. Long ago, when she had decided to compete in the ranks of the warriors, she sought out the best trainers available. And she had paid them well, in gold or in the coin of love. Her experts explained that Hathor could never develop the strength of arms and shoulders to match a male warrior. Her legs, however, were stronger than any man's arms-not to mention having longer reach. And the delicate looking sandals she wore boasted a heavy metal plate in the built-up