Back From Xwaresmia--The Sorcerer Gaumata

I have spent time in Xwaresmia trying to sort out my priorities. I really think I have to put together a book of spells and curses. The other thing that has vexed me is that my associate, Tigran, who is a demon, is proving difficult to train. I did not realize that he was as young as he was when I took him on as an acolyte. He is powerful, but in need of a strong hand. 
I have included these proofs: see the picture labeled “werewolf,” above.  In it you see him transforming. Note his moon-like eyes. Yet he forgets to finish the transformation and it appears ridiculous. The next photo shows him sprouting an eye from the side of his face. He had four eyes, some of which roved aimlessly. It was quite gruesome, but he was asleep. When he awoke, his face returned to normal. 
I think he has potential, however, so I will not give up. I feel that I may become attached to him, and this is not at all desirable. I must focus on the task of finding a suitable post to occupy. There is no longer an emperor of any stature in this unfortunate world, and I do not wish to occupy the throne of a weakling. The world has changed for the worse. I may retire to the forest, but I still covet power.

Psamtik's Mother--The Sorcerer Gaumata

The work done for the day, Matwa went to Psamtik, the pharaoh-to-be’s quarters. The wretch’s mother had called him. Psamtik was asleep in his mother’s arms. He slept naked and his mother looked fondly at his skinny, angular body. His shiny shaved head showed off many bumps and irregularities. He had had an erection in his sleep and she stroked it down gently. Matwa stood a while and finally cleared his throat, causing Psamtik to stir and grit his teeth, making an awful grinding sound. The woman looked up and smiled proudly as she slipped out of the bed.

“Matwa, how are the arrangements for his ascension progressing? I feel that the priesthood is not very enthusiastic about my son’s coronation, and I want to know that the army will be loyal.” She paced silently. “At least we have you, Matwa. I’m sure you can control the other priests.”
Matwa nodded, “Yes Your Grace, I will do my best. Every thing is going as planned.”

http://www.extasybooks.com/the-sorcerers-secret-5/

{WARNING} Contains scenes of extreme violence that may be offensive to some readers. Fire—dreams of Fire—visions of Fire. Where do they come from? Aryazate doesn’t know why, but he fears the power secretly growing in him. Am I a demon, or a sorcerer? Kavada, the blacksmith, seems to be the only one he can trust, but even he doesn’t know the extent of Aryazate’s secrets. What would he say if he found out that the beautiful maiden Aryazate, is really a young man forced by circumstances to conceal this truth, which day by day becomes more evident? Just when he thinks Kavada is ready to hear the truth, Aryazate’s worst nightmares become reality. The Head-Mage Monushir accuses him of sorcery and has him imprisoned. What will this trial reveal? Is the truth so horrible that Aryazate will welcome torture and death by fire—by the same fire that haunts his dreams?

The Pharaoh's Useless Brains--The Sorcerer Gaumata

The priests moved the body of the Pharaoh to the royal embalmers. They had been prepared for this momentous event for a long time. Richly decorated canopic jars stood ready to receive the royal internal organs. The heart, being the seat of intelligence, would remain in the body. A large stone sarcophagus was set up in the room. This was not to be the final resting place, but the container that would hold the body while it cured and dried before mummification. It was full of natron over one layer of pure salt.

The priests were in attendance as the embalmers prepared the royal body and they began chanting the spells that were necessary for this stage. Taking a needle-thin, sharp knife, the senior embalmer made a deft jab at the navel of the body. He cut upwards, carefully avoiding the membrane separating the internal organs and the muscle. He made three more cuts until he could expose the cavity. Then taking another knife, he carefully pierced the membrane, and without ever injuring an organ, he began to cut away each one, then handed the organ over to an assistant who stood close by, holding an almost flat reed basket. Two men were holding the basket now as he skillfully cut the intestines out and began to scoop them into a large reed cone and then transferred the shimmering mass into their waiting basket. 

When this was done, the priests could see the Pharaoh’s backbone through his collapsed abdomen. One assistant held the mouth of the Pharaoh open as the master made several expert cuts that freed the esophagus and lungs. The lungs were removed by carefully cutting through the upper part of the abdomen and pulling them through the small incision. The cavity was washed now with palm wine and pounded spices. The assistant wiped the blood often from both the body and from the master’s hands and arms. The brain was removed through the nose using a long, hooked instrument. The master embalmer removed it expertly, although it was usually a messy procedure. It was placed in the reed basket with the rags, because it was not considered to be of any value to the Pharaoh in the afterworld.

Finally, the body was lifted carefully and placed in the sarcophagus. The abdominal cavity was filled with pure bruised myrrh, cassia, and other aromatic substances and then sewed up. The mouth was also filled with the mixture of materials, but it was skillfully pushed into place so that it bore a calm expression. Natron was poured over the body now, so that it could dry out in preparation for mummification. It was late in the night when they finally finished and the exhausted men set out for their quarters.

http://www.devinedestinies.com/the-sorcerer-and-the-shaman

Psamtik the Scarecrow--The Sorcerer Gaumata

Psamtik sat on the minor throne he had occupied before the death of his father, the Pharaoh. His scrawny shoulders shook with indignation as the priests explained to him for the tenth time that he had to wait for the ceremony before he could ascend the pharaoh’s throne. His face was thin and his nose hawkish. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his lips were so thin that his steward had to paint them to make them more visible.

Matwa watched Ankhare as he looked at the young man in disgust. Matwa could see that Psamtik’s claw-like hand was clutching the arm of his throne and he watched as a blue vein pulsed in the skinny neck under a gold neckband. One time Ankhare had told Matwa that he would never have such a poor specimen even clean pots for his troops, but this scarecrow who seemed to be certain that he was already a god, would be the Pharaoh. Matwa felt a sharp twinge of doubt and he looked away. He was going to have to accept it, but his mind continued to doubt. Could they, the priests, transform this weakling into a god? Didn’t they need better material to work with?

“It is now time, Prince Psamtik,” Matwa began, “for you to come to the room where your father, god of the underworld now...”

“No, no, no!” Psamtik interrupted, “I want to lie down now for my nap! I always do! Just because the old Pharaoh died does not mean that I have to change my schedule.” Psamtik’s eyes were red and his thin lips set in determination.

Matwa looked helplessly at Ankhare, as if for help, but the general was studying the ground and blushing furiously in shame. Kawaba, Psamtik’s mother, stood up and took the young man’s hand without further arguments and began to lead him from the room. He stood quite tall, as almost all of the Pharaoh’s children did, but as he left, they saw his backbone clearly. His shoulder blades protruded like the tucked in wings of a pelican.

Matwa knew what Kawaba was doing. He’d actually seen the disgusting thing before, since Psamtik was unashamed. Kawaba would lie down on the bed after settling her son in. She would lift her sash and when he opened his mouth wide to take in most of her sagging breast, she always winced. He would suck vigorously, although she was as dry as a mummy’s tit in late summer. He always did this when he felt insecure. Matwa groaned as he imagined the young pharaoh-to-be with his eyes shut—those eyes that looked like balls with a thin membrane stretched over them— while he made loud sucking noises. He looked away in disgust and began to study the cracks in the stone floor.

http://www.extasybooks.com/sorcerer-gaumata-king-of-kings/

The Pharaoh--The Sorcerer Gaumata

The following was related to me by a trusted follower, who I killed later. I include this so that you will have some idea as to the situation in Egypt as King Cambyses made his plans to invade:

The body of the Pharaoh Ahmose lay on a stone slab. He was dressed splendidly. Even his crown was propped into place. His arms lay crossed on his chest in the manner of a mummy and the two scepters glinted in the sunlight. Attendants walked noiselessly through the room as a phalanx of shaved-headed priests dressed in pure white stood looking at the body, as if it would get up at any moment and address them. The Pharaoh had finally entered the underworld, where he would rule forever. The heat of the day was intense. Matwa, the head priest, knew that he must give the order that the body of the god-king be taken to the royal embalmers. He hesitated because his heart was heavy with thoughts of the state of Egypt.
The great Pharaoh Ahmose was truly the god on earth and now he was Osiris and would rule the underworld. None of the priests surrounding the dead pharaoh showed any emotion, for this was a time of grave peril for the king. His body had to be prepared and this might take up to six weeks. The tomb was well prepared—it had been for the last thirty years. A priest used a fly whisk to make sure no insect landed on the king.
No, it wasn’t the fact that the pharaoh had gone to the underworld that bothered Matwa, but that he had left no real successor. The son who had been groomed for the throne of Upper and Lower Egypt was now dead. He preceded his father in death, thanks to the Greeks. Pharaoh Ahmose had been keen on strengthening his ties with the Greeks, but Ahmose III had died in a shipwreck on his way to Greece on an expedition.
Now they were left only with the sickly and effeminate Psamtik III. The priesthood opposed his ascension, but his mother was far more powerful than the other queens and it would be impossible to change the course of events now. Matwa had been in favor of a lesser ranked son, Ankhare, who was serving as the army commander. He was virile and steadfast. Psamtik, on the other hand...

http://www.extasybooks.com/sorcerer-in-egypt/

Ha!! Do You See The Evil Glint in His Eye??

The Madness of King Cambyses

My plan was to make Cambyses mad, as I had his father, Cyrus the Great. It began with his obsession with Egypt, one of the Persian satrapies. 

“What do you think?” Cambyses asked Mihr, his advisor, cocking his head as he studied the map. Mihr opened his mouth, but Cambyses said, “Hmm, yes, I think so too.” He stroked his black beard contemplatively. Mihr did not move. The emperor cocked his head, as if listening and nodding his head slightly. 
Suddenly Cambyses turned and glared at him. Cambyses opened his eyes wide in a look of indescribable hatred and began to stalk towards Mihr. Cambyses began to reach for his dagger, but Mihr reached for his holy kusti string and shook it.

“Your Majesty, I... I have answered your summons!” Mihr said in a trembling voice. The emperor stopped. Mihr’s voice had ended the trance I had placed on him, hoping to have him kill that gnat of an advisor. 

His stance relaxed and he smiled at Mihr, gesturing him eagerly to follow him to the wall map of Egypt. He began to talk excitedly. 

“... my destiny! I can feel it calling to me! I want to go to Egypt to conquer that ancient land. Maybe I’ll even set up a capital there eventually. Mihr, I want to become a real pharaoh. I want you to get all the information that you can on their customs and religious practices.”

“Uh, yes, at once Your Majesty,” Mihr said. 

“First, however, I will begin to treat my magi more like the pharaoh treats his priests. They are landowners and nobles under Pharaoh. In exchange, they will think of me as god on earth.” Cambyses smiled slowly, his eyes taking on a far away look. “A god on earth,” he repeated, seeming to taste the syllables. He turned to Mihr, his eyes bright and intense with his passion. “Mihr, you must help me with this, I need that information! I need to become a god!”

Mihr bowed his head in reverence. “Oh King of Kings, I sense that there is already divinity in you.”

Cambyses’ eyes lit up in triumph. “You are a smart one, Mihr! No wonder my father had so much faith in you. Do you know that my mother was actually an Egyptian princess, the daughter of the great Pharaoh Ahmose, who rules Egypt? Pharaoh Ahmose has been ruling for forty years now. He is old, very old.”

Mihr made a sound of agreement, but the emperor had already turned and was studying the map of Egypt with rapt attention. 
When he returned the next day, I, Gaumata, smiled. I imagined what he was thinking as a guttural voice in a strange language greeted him. There was no one else in the room but Cambyses, who sat upon his throne as straight as the depictions of the pharaoh he had seen. He wore a short skirt of golden material and was holding two strange looking scepters.

The emperor just sat there, looking straight ahead and Mihr looked as though he didn’t know whether to stay or to leave. 
Finally Cambyses spoke. “Pharaoh Ahmose has just died. He came to me in a dream and told me to set out for Egypt to claim my throne.” 

Everyone had already heard about the death of the pharaoh. However, the emperor wanted people to believe that he had seen it in a vision. So Mihr made the appropriate expressions of joy and wonder.

http://www.extasybooks.com/pride-of-the-beast/

The Prince and the Girls--The Sorcerer Gaumata

Now Prince Cambyses was assured the position of King of Kings. I had made it possible. What a clever fellow I am! I was becoming quite settled in the palace, inside of his head. The only thing was that I needed somehow to control his sexual urges. It was disgusting the way his body seemed always alert for women. One day, I saw that my training was finally taking root.

A sound from the curtained doorway made Cambyses glance up briefly. Sarada, one of the youngest of Prince Cambyses’ wives came into the room where he sat, head down, as he inspected some of the precious items he had taken from his father’s quarters. She wanted to sit on his lap, as was her custom when she wanted to complain about one of her senior co-wives. 

Cambyses was annoyed, but he allowed her to climb onto his lap as he examined a small, filigreed locket. She was babbling on. Usually he found her as adorable as a newborn filly, but today, an odd rage seemed to well up within him. Her words grated on his senses and this startled him because usually he was able to tune her out completely until she was ready to go to bed with him.

“And so it I was just standing there and she said did I say you could wear my shift? And I said, well, why not, you once used the ring I left on the table that time, and she said well you stole that from me, don’t you remember? And so anyway then...”

Cambyses let his knee go limp and the girl began to slip to the floor. She grabbed him around the neck and tried to kiss him, but he shied away. Abruptly, she pulled back and wiped her lips on her sleeve.

“What is that smell? Maybe you were holding baby Xerxes on your lap? And maybe he pooped on you?”

Cambyses pushed her to the floor violently and glared at her as if she were an enemy. She ran crying from the room and Cambyses called his steward to fix him a hot bath. He just had to bathe and get the awful feel of that woman off of him. How could he bear those women—there were just so many of them swarming in his quarters, in the gardens, everywhere. “If anyone smells it’s them— the dirty evil creatures,” he growled. He stood swaying slightly as his eyes filmed over. He smiled sardonically and began to undress.

That, my friends, was my doing. My personality was beginning to rise in him.

Assassinate the Assassins--The Sorcerer Gaumata

The next day, the victorious assassin squad was near the city when a scout reached Prince Cambyses. “I see the traitors that I was to watch for, Oh Prince! They are still outside the city.”

“Prepare the troops. They are to die, each and every one of them. Do not bring me prisoners. I have been informed that they have plotted to take my life, but nobody knew why they left the city but my informant. They were conspiring with the old Babylonian priesthood to kill me before I could ascend the throne,” Cambyses watched the scout’s eyes widen. His own face was grave, but in his heart he was jubilant, for he knew now that his brother was dead. The plan was going wonderfully. He had Bardiya killed by the assassins, now he would have the troops kill the assassins. His dark secret would die with them.

http://www.devinedestinies.com/seeing-crimson/

My Wickedly Ingenious Plan--The Sorcerer Gaumata

Now it was time to really get to work. I made sure that by the morning, Prince Cambyses had totally forgotten about his foray to the garden Quiet Room. As planned, the princes and magi, as well as some other nobles close to the dead king, Cyrus the Great, assembled to witness the demolition of the Quiet Room. Many tears were shed as the building was beaten down until only a pile of limestone lay in its place. There was much to do. The magi would oversee the transition of the throne, not that Cambyses agreed with that, but it was the protocol. 

The biggest problem was that succession was far from a settled fact. Some of the magi thought that there should be a period of waiting and finally they won out. I had to make sure that Cambyses won the throne, for he was my vehicle.

Cambyses and his brother were expected to deal with the problems that were plaguing the empire with the king’s passing. Many of the upstart kingdoms saw this as a time to rebel. Prince Bardiya was set to go to the far off kingdom of Susa to the east. Cambyses knew that he should return to Babylon, where he had been ruling, if only to quell the rumors, but he did not think it was safe to leave the capital at such a time. And there was the problem of settling the question of succession for once and for all.

Prince Bardiya was setting out for Susa, where he would quell the rebellion before returning for the decision of the magi.  Bardiya didn’t even know if he wanted to rule at all. What I got from the mind of Cambyses was that all his brother wanted was to hunt all day. 

I made a plan and let it enter my victim’s mind. His rage and fear that he would lose the throne made him a more than willing participant. He called together a secret meeting with a few of his most adept assassins. They would follow Bardiya as he made his way to Susa, but while the royal party slept, they would attack and kill the prince. They were to hide his remains along with those of his party. Even horses would have to be killed and hidden in the vast series of craggy cliffs and ravines.

http://www.extasybooks.com/curse-of-two-spirit/