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It was not simply his size and power, but also his speed. He was astoundingly graceful for a man so broad and tall. He moved like an animal, an extremely dangerous predator who followed his instincts and intuition rather than the mechanics of a well-practiced martial art.
Shai trained daily for two hours. Sometimes with others, often alone. It was the only time for him to hone his skills and perhaps to release pent-up tension. To move freely under the sun, to sweat and let his heart race.
They never discussed it explicitly, the fact that the then Royal Princess, now Queen, accompanied her personal guard to training. It was a unique phenomenon. No other royal or noble spent their time like this.
But then, none of the other peers spent every minute in the presence of one particular slave.
Her husband of three years, Pharoah Thutmose II, possessed an army of guards. He had at least four to six with him at all times, but they rotated with others every few hours. His guards stood watch outside his chamber, never within. And they were extremely expendable as far as he was concerned.
Shortly after he was first enthroned, there was an assassination attempt. His guards were able to protect him, but one of them lost his life in the attack.
Thutmose barely blinked at the man’s death. Instead of thanking his guard, he screamed at them for their incompetence for letting such danger within fifty feet of him.
It was Heba who quietly sent funds to the dead man’s elderly parents, enough for them to hire help and to support their needs for the rest of their days.
Thutmose never concerned himself with the “little people,” except to be worshipped as a god from afar. But then, he was hardly unique in his relationship with the Egyptian masses. This was simply the way they were.
Heba, on the other hand, had only one guard. She needed only one.
Shai.
She trusted no other to protect her, and he trusted no one else either. Thus, by tacit agreement, they were always together, and he never let her out of his sight.
Even now, as he fought the six warriors coming at him at once, he knew exactly where she stood against the column. She had no doubt that if any threat were near, he’d take care of it before it ever reached her.
The only time he didn’t have ready access to her was once a month when she visited Thutmose’s chamber to procreate.
Shai would stand guard with the Pharoah’s sentinels right outside his doors, but those doors were barred to him unless something extraordinary were to occur.
Something extraordinary did.
Once.
The first night, Heba’s wedding night, had been an unmitigated disaster. Even though she’d only been fifteen, and Thutmose several years her senior, she seemed to know more about what needed to be done than he did.
The first issue was his impotence. The more he tried to make his member hard, the softer it remained. Then came his temper. The softer he was, the angrier he got.
Soon, that anger turned on Heba, forshemust be the source of his problems.Shemust be the reason he couldn’t harden enough to do the deed.
She was too ugly, too unwomanly, too…something.
So, he began to shout. The wine he imbibed and continued to guzzle didn’t help the situation. When she tried to placate him or even simply just get out of his way, he’d slapped her hard enough to send her crashing to the ground.
They were fighting like wild dogs upon the stone floor when Shai broke through the heavy bolt somehow and burst into the room, the other guards bedamned. Though a couple were clearly trying to hold him back, but to no avail.
He’d pulled Thutmose off of her as if the Pharoah was no better than a flea-bitten mongrel, and tossed him against a nearby wall.
Heba was bruised and sore, but her injuries were minor compared to what Shai suffered as a consequence of his actions that night.
Thutmose had been on a wrathful, vengeful rampage. He wanted Shai dead at first for daring to lay a hand on him. Heba pleaded, cajoled and even threatened her husband in private to lessen Shai’s punishment.
As it was, Shai had been bound to a post and publicly flogged until she was certain there was no square of skin untouched. Unbruised. His entire body had been covered in dirt and blood.
Afterwards, it took him a full week to recover, despite his astonishingly fast healing abilities. She’d tended to him herself, not letting anyone else near, not trusting what her husband might do.
Just as fiercely, Shai guarded her, even in such a state, in unfathomable pain. He was even more focused, more intense, because he knew he was vulnerable, and therefore so was she.
It was countless experiences like this, large and small, that cemented Heba’s unwavering faith in Shai. Papa always told her to be careful in whom she trusted. To be sure of their motivations so that she could anticipate their actions.
