This month’s free fiction is in honor of the solstice.
In the hour before dawn a chariot climbed through the desert hills toward the Western mountains, the full moon above illuminating the way. The sky was not yet even the barest pink and every star embedded in the body of Nut winked down at the driver and passenger as they broke the night’s silence. They drove past the sealed tombs in the rock, the monuments to past kings, until the beating of the horses’ hooves echoed off the stone of the new monument ahead. Hatshepsut tapped her driver’s shoulder to indicate where they should stop, then squeezed it to keep balance once they did.
“Here, my king?” the driver asked. They were still many feet from the front of the first ramp.
“Yes, I’ll walk the rest of the way,” Hatshepsut said as she climbed down and dusted herself off. “I won’t need to return to the High House until the sun peaks, so you may return to the river to take part in the festival there.”
Even though they’d discussed this before leaving, the driver still looked uncomfortable leaving her king there all alone.
“I’ll be safe. Go.” She said firmly but with a smile.