1600BC

Siamun sat on his wooden chair, leaning back on its hind legs. He watched Kenemetankh’s amused face, as his great hands scraped the three dull coins off the table.
   “If I get three tails on this throw then I win!” Kenemetankh said, his smile widening. A flame danced in the oil lamp, casting a lively reflection on his sweaty brow. He scratched his stubble, then ran his hand slowly through his thick black hair. Pausing, before he let a solitary coin loose from his clasp. Arcing across the board it span towards Siamun, moving slower and slower until it fell.   
    “Tails!” Kenemetankh exclaimed, his smile wider than ever. He raised his great arm once more and threw another coin. Again it span towards Siamun, toppling over as it knocked against one of the Jackal pins on the board.
     “Tails again! One more and I win. Let me tell you those dates are looking very tasty; they will be going home with me for once!” Kenemetankh chuckled.
      Siamun smiled back; he had never lost a game of Dogs and Jackals to Kenemetankh.
     “You know you have luck for no more than two throws in a game,” Siamun said, before picking up one of the larger sweet wine cakes on the table and taking a healthy bite.
     “We’ll see!” Kenemetankh replied as he let the third coin flick out from between his fingers. Spinning on a single axis it started to slow, before tipping onto one side.
    “Wrath of Ra! Heads, always the same! I don’t know why I even play,” Kenemetankh grumbled.
      Siamun laughed. In a way he felt sorry for Kenemetankh, yet he wouldn't lose for all of Egypt. He took a big swig of beer from his carved wooden cup, swashing the sweet liquid around his mouth. Raising his arm, Siamun threw all three coins at once. One by one they fell to one side with gentle clinks as they hit the wooden board.
      “Three heads, well that’s three moves and well that means…I win!” Siamun said calmly, pretending it couldn’t have gone the other way.
    “Good game but your luck will fade some time,” Kenemetankh jokingly quipped.
    Siamon mused while crumbling some bread he had broken off; he knew they had more serious business to talk about.

“My friend, enough of these games now. We have important matters to discuss,” Siamun said, catching Kemetankh's eye.
“You know as well as I do, it is time the Hyksos were removed from power and we Egyptians controlled our own lands!” he said, before getting up and walking over to the dark wooden table in the corner. It was dimly lit by candles and was covered in fruits with various pots and containers around the edge.
   He picked up a jug of beer and poured himself another, splashing some on the dusty wooden floor.
     “Well yes, I agree and we can both fight well but we are only two city guards. What could we possibly do? Storm them?!” Kenemetankh asked sarcastically, his bushy eye brows raising.
        Siamun moved back across the room. Sitting back down on his rickety chair, he glanced out the window of his town house towards the street below.
     Warm air wafted through the window, tinted with the smell of turmeric and cumin from the stock room next door. The dark street was empty, other than a lone policeman trudging up the hill with his staff. Light from the odd oil lamp could be seen from only a few windows of the opposite building. One of the the lights was glowing dimly behind a grey cloth blind at the brothel, which often brought undesirables to his neighbourhood.
     Siamun’s thought chain snapped back to the conversation and Kenemetankh's mocking remarks.
“Well, I've heard rumours that here in Thebes a certain Prince, Amhose is planning an uprising, said to march on Avaris!” Siamun said, with a new passion.
     “If indeed he plans to do this, then I will stand up and be counted like the rest! There is more than a fool's hope with an army led by a Thebian prince. Surely the Gods will favour us! And even better we can finally leave the guard!” Kenemtankh replied.
     “No more orders and menial tasks from that wretched Siapopis.” Enthused Siamun.
     “We should teach him a lesson before we go! Let him know what it’s like to do a hard days work scrubbing the barracks!” Kenemetankh boomed merrily.
      “Sounds like a plan my friend! Carrying out the will of Ma'at cannot be wrong,” Siamun replied with a smirk.
      Kenemetankh raised himself and straightened his white flaxen robe.
“It’s late and I must take my leave, Siamun. Meet me tomorrow at the market, let’s see if we have enough coin for some meat as a leaving treat! We also need to discuss the prince's plan further,” he said, turning to pick up his bronze spear and guard's shield, engraved with the symbol of the Sekem, showing his authority.
     “Ok my friend, take these dates as well, as a gift, I’m still getting through yesturdays winnings,” Siamum said gently as he rose from his seat.
     Taking the dates, Kenemetankh turned and ambled towards the door.
“I will win the next game of Dogs and Jackals you know!” he said without looking back.
     Siamun smiled. His friend was a hulk of a man who was insurpassable in battle – yet for all his strength, the mind is quicker than the spear.