Flail of the Pharoah (7 page)

There was a pause in the proceedings as Neshi raised the flail high with his right arm. A sharp intake of breath came from Iras, but the queen remained impassive. Charmian looked at Prince Neshi with new eyes, astonished to find that something akin to her old feelings for her betrothed were rising within her. To see the strong sinews of his arms and legs, tautened for the task ahead, and that noble profile with the hawkish eyes focused intently on his target, made her feel quite dizzy with strange longing.

Then the prince spoke, in a confident tone that echoed powerfully around the room. ‘You Kiya, one of the Pharaoh’s lesser concubines, dependent upon the king’s grace and favour, have grossly insulted the name of his chief wife and eldest son. For this, you will receive just punishment. Hear me, ye gods, and exonerate me from blame. For I am the Son of the Most High and my name, and that of her majesty my mother, has been sullied by this wretched creature who is not worthy to bear the name of woman. Twelve lashes shall she receive from the holy flail of Egypt, in order that she may see the error of her ways.’

Charmian held her breath, feeling as though her heart had stopped too. She saw the thongs fall with cruel force upon Kiya’s naked buttocks, making a hideous cracking noise. The girl trembled and flexed her buttocks, but did not cry out. Now Charmian knew that her own heart had not stopped after all because it was beating a wild tattoo, like the drums of the desert tribesmen she’d heard on her way through Egypt.

Prince Neshi struck again, the leather strands slapping against Kiya’s buttocks with a loud thwack, and this time the girl gave a half-suppressed grunt of pain. The young man’s dark eyes glittered with satisfaction as he raised his arm again, and brought it down even more viciously upon the girl’s defenceless flesh. A wail of agony was heard this time, and Charmian glanced at the queen, wondering if she would show mercy and intervene, but her full lips were pressed even more tightly together.

It was proving too much for Iras though, who broke into a sob and hid her face. Charmian wondered whether she should comfort the servant, but Queen Mira’s forbidding eye rooted her to the spot and she had to witness yet another vicious lashing. By now the dark cheeks of the girl’s bottom were laced with ugly weals and Kiya’s body was trembling and convulsing.

Neshi struck again and again in quick succession, and soon the rhythmic thrusting of his arm and swaying of his torso held an almost hypnotic fascination for Charmian, who found herself growing immune to the shrieks of pain as she was caught up in the drama. Soon the girl’s agonised cries came to seem like a strange musical accompaniment to the action. Eight strokes… nine… ten… Charmian wondered what it must be like to be chastised by such a strong man, to humble oneself before the lash and submit one’s flesh to torment. A strange excitement was stirring in her bowels as she witnessed that primeval scene of punishment.

Before the sentence could be completed, however, there was a sudden noise in the doorway and into the queen’s chamber strode the Pharaoh himself.

‘Stop!’ he called, in the commanding tone proper to his station. ‘Neshi, desist at once. What is going on here? Speak, my queen.’

He was frowning sternly, standing in his magnificent apron with his legs apart and his hands on his hips. Queen Mira hurried up and made her obeisance.

‘I did not wish to trouble you with this minor matter, your majesty. One of your women insulted the prince, that is all, so I thought it best if he administered justice by his own hand. He is old enough to perform such duties now.’

The king’s face remained severe as he turned to his son. ‘What was this “minor matter?” Speak, Neshi.’

‘Father, the woman slandered me to my face, and my mother too.’

‘Why would she do such a thing?’

‘She was behaving improperly, father. I rebuked her, and then she came out with a torrent of abuse. I had to tell mother, although it pained me to do so.’

Charmian, watching this exchange, thought Neshi looked sly and furtive. For the first time it crossed her mind that he might have invented this whole story. She saw Kiya twist around, straining to see what was going on, and Iras went to help her rise to her feet. The poor girl could hardly stand, and leaned upon the servant girl heavily.

King Seti turned again to his wife. ‘Why did you not inform me of this?’

‘I thought it too trivial, sire. It is an internal matter regarding your harem, but you have more important things to attend to.’ She put a placatory hand upon his forearm. ‘I thought you would be glad to be spared this tiresome business.’

Without a word the Pharaoh walked slowly over to Kiya and looked her directly in the eye. She stared back at him, her expression neither one of pleading nor of anger, but one of mere resignation. He spoke softly to her, words that Charmian could not catch, and then addressed Iras. ‘Take her back to her quarters and make sure she is properly cared for.’

Iras helped Kiya draw on her shift, although it was obviously painful to pull the tight material over her raw and tender buttocks, then she led the hobbling girl slowly from the room. The atmosphere seemed to lighten once they had gone, but the Pharaoh’s frown did not lift. Instead, he confronted his wife and son.

‘Whatever that girl did or said, you should not have taken the law into your own hands,’ he said. ‘Only the Pharaoh can dispense justice in the Kingdom of Egypt. Never forget that.’

‘I am sorry, sire,’ Mira said, her head bowed. She sounded contrite.

‘Sorry, father,’ Prince Neshi added, although Charmian thought he sounded as though he didn’t mean it. He seemed to still be in a state of exhilaration, panting slightly from his exertions with a light sweat beading his brow. His fist was still curled around the handle of the flail, and his father’s eyes now lighted upon it.

‘Give that to me.’ Neshi handed it over. ‘Now leave your mother and me alone. I wish to speak with her in private.’

Charmian assumed that meant she should go too, but the Pharaoh seemed not to have noticed her at all as he stood with his back to her. She half-rose to her feet, but then the queen shook her head so she sat down again. Why would Queen Mira want her to stay? Another mystery. Perhaps she needed a witness for the scene that was about to occur.

‘The lad is hardly more than a boy, Mira. You put too heavy a responsibility upon his shoulders by allowing him to chastise that wretched woman. And did you have any more than his word for it that she had mouthed those insults?’

‘I… not really,’ the queen confessed. ‘But why would our son lie? Besides, the girl is a sly creature, just the sort who would be pleasant to my face but insult me behind my back.’

The king put a hand on his wife’s shoulder and looked into her eyes. ‘Are you sure you were not jealous, my queen? That would explain why you were so quick to think ill of Kiya, since she shared my bed last night. Search in your heart, and tell me the truth.’

Her expression changed to one of pain. ‘It is quite possible, husband. You have not called me to your bed for many a lonely moon, and I miss your tenderness.’

‘But every morning we are intimate, and no other woman in the harem has that special privilege. You know that you are first in my heart, and share my throne. Furthermore, one day, when I am gone, your son will sit upon the throne of Egypt. What more can any woman desire than these most high honours?’

He sounded genuinely puzzled. Mira rested her head briefly upon the magnificent jewelled collar that spanned his broad shoulders. ‘You are the soul of generosity,’ she murmured. ‘But my own soul still yearns for you. Allow me to make amends for my presumption this day, Seti. Allow me to pleasure you, in all the ways I used to do when I was called to your bed again and again, because you could not get enough of me.’

The king gave a soft chuckle. ‘You always know how to win me round, wife.’ He kissed her full on the lips and she gave a brief moan, compounded of surprise and desire. Then he continued, ‘Very well, you shall be with me tonight, but on one condition.’

‘Anything, my lord.’

‘You must allow the new girl – the pale barbarian – to observe our love play.’

‘What?’ The queen took a step back in outrage, her glance flicking towards Charmian for an instant, then back to the Pharaoh. ‘You cannot mean it.’

Charmian could hardly believe it either. At first she thought she had misunderstood Seti’s words, but then he explained. ‘The girl comes from an uncouth land and has been raised in unknown ways. She is not like the Hittite women in my harem, who are schooled in the art of love almost from childhood. Neither is she like an Egyptian girl, to whom sex and love are second nature. This exquisite creature is an unknown quantity, and she must be trained in our ways. What better way to achieve this than to give her an object lesson in lovemaking, dear wife?’

‘But to sit and watch, like… like a madam auditioning a whore!’

The king laughed. ‘How can the act of love between the Pharaoh and his wife be likened to the goings-on in a brothel? Keep a sense of proportion, my dear. The girl will find it a moving and enlightening experience I am sure, if your past performances are anything to go by. She will learn from the best teachers in the land. Besides,’ his tone grew slightly menacing, ‘we don’t want a repetition of that Greek girl fiasco, now do we?’

Charmian caught the queen’s eye and at once her gaze flicked towards the door, dismissing her. Now she knew she had heard more than Mira had intended and she was being told to make a swift exit. She rose silently and crept out, but as she reached the doorway she looked back over her shoulder to see the king and queen embracing passionately.

The rest of the day dragged for Charmian. She was all but ignored by the other women in the harem and felt like an outcast. Her pale skin and golden hair had turned her into nothing more than a figure of curiosity, and now her novelty value seemed to have been spent. How she yearned for some friendly company, such as she used to have at home.

As for Kiya, she saw no more of the girl. She must have been spirited away by Iras to some private sanctuary, to lick her wounds.

But towards the end of the afternoon Prince Neshi strolled into the women’s quarters, and Charmian’s heart skipped a beat. Seeing him there amidst the women he looked more out of place than ever. Although not as tall as his father, he was a head and shoulders above some of the shorter concubines and on a level with Charmian.

Remembering how he had struck out at Kiya in such a masterly fashion, his presence now seemed all the more incongruous. She thought if the other women had seen what she had witnessed that morning, they would never treat him like a boy-child again but would cower and shake in his presence. She could feel her bowels curdle at the sight of him, and that strange mixture of attraction and repulsion returned to dominate her soul.

To her surprise, and a faint sense of horror, his hawk-like eyes sought her out and then he came striding over to her side.

‘Ah, Charmian,’ he began, pleasantly enough. ‘My mother wishes you to accompany me to her room.’

There was no hint of what had passed before. When her blue eyes met his brown eyes she searched their unfathomable depths for some sign of recognition, some evidence of a secret bond between them, but his expression was enigmatic. Charmian felt oddly cheated. ‘I shall come at once.’

She followed him out of the room, noticing with satisfaction that a few of the women threw questioning glances in their direction, which she haughtily ignored, then out into the corridor. It was only a short walk to the queen’s apartments, but suddenly Neshi seized her arm and pushed her into a small antechamber out of the way. He closed the door behind them and she faced him, trembling.

‘W-what do you want?’

There was a hint of that earlier savagery in his eyes that made her quail. He pushed her against the sandstone wall and placed his hand over her mouth.

‘I promise you shall come to no harm,’ he said in a harsh whisper. ‘In return, do you promise not to cry out?’

She nodded vehemently, and he released her mouth. His expression turned soft as he gently caressed her cheek. ‘I am sorry, Charmian, I didn’t mean to startle you. But I need to talk to you about what you witnessed earlier today. You have not told anyone about it, have you?’

‘Oh no!’ The words came out swiftly, in a shocked tone. Charmian would never have thought to discuss such a terrible event with anyone in the harem, since she did not feel that close to any of the other women. Her sincerity seemed to convince the prince, because he smiled kindly.

‘Good girl, I know I can trust you never to speak of it to anyone. You see, the Pharaoh and his queen must be above reproach. You saw how Kiya was punished for her disrespect. My father pretended to disapprove of the way the punishment was carried out but, believe me, if he had been sitting in judgement over her she would have had paid even harsher penalty – probably banishment, or even death. All things considered, she got off lightly.’

‘Why are you telling me all this?’

‘Because you are new to our country, and our ways are strange to you. I understand how bewildering it must be for you…’ He broke off, a dreamy look entering his dark eyes as he gazed at her. ‘You are so beautiful, Charmian. I can understand why the Pharaoh has summoned you to his bedchamber tonight.’

‘Tonight?’ Charmian repeated, in fright.

The prince laughed, showing his white teeth. His scent was musk-laden and exotic, making Charmian feel faint. Desire was welling up in her unbidden, and her knees felt weak. She pressed her body against the wall, to steady herself, but then Neshi took her hand and tingles of electricity shot up her arm. She wanted to weep or faint, but she did neither, only stared at his brown, burnished face as if he were some god on earth.