Page 44 of Over the Emerald Valley
“That depends greatly on your basis for comparison.” Temaj leaned in. “On which I’m certain we differ, General.”
“He treats you like property,” Solon pressed.
Temaj pursed his lips. “So?”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“Are you trying to upset me? What choice do I have?”
That was a good question. Solon hadn’t planned on broaching this topic right away, but he wouldn’t get a better opening. “Leave with me.”
Dropping his food onto his plate, Temaj thudded back against his chair and studied Solon’s face.
Solon studied back. Temaj’s lips were slightly parted. His eyes glittered with shock. Silence rang loud between them.
When Temaj finally answered, his whisper was so quiet Solon had to strain to hear. “I’ve been bought and sold no less than ten times in my twenty-some years. I’m safe here. How do I know life outside these walls will be any better?”
It was Solon’s turn for shock. “I could request your freedom. Horemheb won’t deny me after a lifetime of service. And if you help me now, he’ll have even more cause to liberate you.”
Temaj was silent. He’d stopped eating and stared into his lap. If Solon wasn’t watching him so closely, he might be fooled into thinking he’d stopped breathing as well.
“Say something. Please.”
Temaj lifted his head, but his gaze was distant. “What has he done?”
Confusion clouded Solon’s mind. “Who?”
“My master, the viceroy. You called him a criminal. What has he done?”
“Oh.” Solon wanted Temaj’s answer to be yes so badly he’d momentarily forgotten about Abasi. “I’m here for more than just the numbers and such. I’m looking for proof of crime. Perhaps as far as to replace the viceroy with a man more suitable for the job. He’s embezzled wealth from the pharaoh, from Egypt and her people.”
“And so? Is Egypt not wealthy enough? Do her people starve? Does your master not have gold and silver aplenty? Who is Abasi hurting when there are more emeralds than any king could know what to do with?”
“They are not his for the taking.”
“Whose are they? Did anyone ask the mountain before we clawed thousands of ugly shafts into her depths if she wanted to give away her precious green glory?”
“Temaj—”
“Solon. What do you care? I could list countless masters who should be pursued with the might and the backing of their pharaoh’s army for the crimes they’ve committed against humanity, but those men go free. So Abasi steals emeralds? I’ll take him over my last master a thousand times over. Who’s to say the next won’t be far worse?”
Sometime during his speech, Temaj had hugged his arms around his waist. He looked small like that. Tucked into the chair, into himself, making himself little, his golden hair fallen over his face.
Solon’s heart hurt to see it. He hadn’t considered Temaj’s perspective would be so different from his own, but he should have. Now his mistake had clearly roused painful memories. The right words refused to come.
Rising from his chair, Solon considered his next action carefully. He knelt beside Temaj and put a hand on his knee. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I should have thought before I spoke.”
Temaj took a shuddering breath. “Did you mean it?”
Solon thought back. To which part would Temaj be referring? “That I want you to leave with me?”
“Yes, that.”
“Yes. Very much so. I would offer you my protection.”
Temaj uncurled from his position and caressed Solon’s face, hands on his cheeks. “What do you need me to do?”
Hope rose teasingly. “Is that a yes?”
