Chapter One: The Dancer
"Come on, move it!"
The slave driver yanked on the chain that connected all the slaves together. It created a domino effect, causing the slaves to bump into each other. The sun beat down on their backs, fresh whip marks criss-crossing in gruesome patterns. Their feet were torn and bloody, and their wrists were chaffing from their shackles. Blood-shot eyes gazed listlessly at the sand rising into their faces. None of them spoke—their tongues were coated in a thick layer of dust.
At the end of the chain, the youngest, newest slave staggered behind the rest. Her dress had turned brown from the sand, sweat, and a lack of washing. Like the other slaves, she wore no shoes and her hands hung limply before her. They, the slave traders, were taking them all to the palace. No surprise there. However, she didn't see why they wanted her. Normally, under these circumstances, they would have killed her. After all, she was too weak to make it all the way to the palace, none of the other slaves would have been willing to help her, and she had been caught stealing water before they had taken her—she was a thief, the last thing they should want. When she thought about it, for her brain rarely registered anything as of late, she realized that she didn't even look like a normal Egyptian. Her skin was paler and more delicate looking. Her hair, when let down, fell in long blonde waves well past her feet. Eyes that looked to be light brown or hazel at first, revealed a ring of forest green around the outer edge of her iris. Her own parents had scorned her…so why had these slave traders wanted her?
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"Come on, let's go!"
"I'm coming, I'm coming," the young prince replied. Mahaado was always so impatient when it came to court meetings, it was scary. Mana had been allowed to tag along to this particular meeting and she skipped happily alongside him. Am I the only one who doesn't enjoy court meetings? Today, his father said he had a surprise for him. The prince pushed his blonde bangs back from his sweaty forehead. They fell right back into place, shielding his eyes from the scorching sun. The majority of his hair was black, but the tips of it was red. He couldn't see why the others wore their hair straight down their backs. Whenever he tried it, he began to get…overheated. And keeping it up off his back felt so nice compared to having it stick all over his neck and shoulders, which just created more heat.
As he, Mana, and Mahaado entered the throne room, all three of them understood why the pharaoh had said today was special—new slaves.
Another thing the young prince did not understand. The other nobles and court officials and higher-ups saw new slaves as new goods to be ogled. While he did understand that everyone had their place, he saw no reason to humiliate the slaves by treating them as nothing more than mere objects. After all, objects could not do things that slaves, which were people, could.
The young prince took his place by his father's side as Pharaoh Akunamonon began to speak with the slave traders.
"Tell me, Traders, do you happen to have any that would be around the age of my son?" he asked.
The traders replied, "We have only one, but she would not be able to do any hard labor. The most she would be good for is a concubine's work." The traders snickered amongst themselves. They had not touched her, but the girl they spoke of was a bit skittish, and extremely fun to tease.
"Let me see this girl," the pharaoh demanded.
Mana watched on as they brought a girl around her age, whose face was currently covered by the hood of her cloak, to the front. They kept her hands bound as they pulled back her hood, revealing her face. Mana let out a quiet gasp that no one but Mahaado heard. The girl was certainly pretty, but her eyes looked so dead. Her posture screamed that she was ragged and weary, though the girl herself remained silent.
Pharaoh Akunamonon turned to his son, "Atem, what do you think?"
The young prince, Atem, didn't want to say anything. He could see her blonde hair, her oddly colored eyes; everyone could. If he said he didn't want her, she would surely be killed once the traders left. They must have known that no one except for the pharaoh would have seen her as some kind of exotic beauty, and they wanted every slave they could find. Then again, if he said he did want her, she would be made his concubine. Maybe not now, but in the years to come when he took over as pharaoh. Not to be misunderstood, he loved girls as much as the next boy his age, but he wasn't quite as…how had Mahaado put it? Ah, yes, horny…as the others. He had responsibilities others his age didn't, after all. As he sat there brooding, the rest of the court waited with baited breath.
That fool's taking too long. Mana knew he had to make a decision fast, otherwise, his father would make it for him…and it wouldn't be pretty. So she did the only thing she could to get the pharaoh's attention.
"Um, excuse me?" Her hand shot up in the air as all eyes turned toward her. She began to wave it around frantically, "I have a suggestion."
Mahaado sighed. I told her she could come if she kept her mouth shut. But, of course, why would she listen to me?
The pharaoh had to suppress a chuckle at the young girl's antics, "Yes, Mana, you may speak."
"Okay, so it's really obvious that Prince Atem wants to keep her, right?" She continued before he could answer. "Well, I was thinking that, most likely, he's over thinking this. Cause you know how he is, concerned with the future of the kingdom and all. Honestly, he should know he's allowed to be a little selfish at least once in his lif—"
Mahaado chose now to interrupt, "Your point, Mana."
"Oh! Right," she continued, "well, anyway, so I was thinking, he could keep her, but as something other than a concubine…like a dancer or something…until he figures out what he wants to do with her." Mana beamed at Atem and the pharaoh, proud of her idea. After all, she'd just been making up as she went along.
Pharaoh Akunamonon looked at his son, "That sounds reasonable enough. What do you say, my son?"
Atem looked on, bewildered. He had been lost in his head, trying to figure out what he should do and had no clue as to what was going on. Looking at Mana, he saw her beaming. Oh, Ra, what did she do this time? Mahaado was of no help either, seeing as he simply nodded.
"Yes, Father, that sounds…reasonable."
"Then it is decided! Mana, since it was your idea, would be so kind as to take the girl to her new room in the slave quarters?"
Mana skipped happily over to the girl, determined to be her friend. Taking her hand, she took off in the other direction, "Come on! You're gonna love it here!"
As she skipped out, dragging the girl with her, the pharaoh rethought his decision, "Mahaado, would you be so kind as to make sure Mana doesn't hide the girl in her room?"
Mahaado let out another sigh. He should have thought of that…she was his pupil and he should be used to her antics. "Yes, Pharaoh," he replied and followed after the two girls.
Atem looked over at Shimon.
"What in the name of Osiris just happened?"
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The older women gathered around Mana.
"Who's the new girl?" one asked.
"Where's she from?" asked another.
"What's she doing here?" one more asked.
Mana held up her hand to quiet them. "Well this is…um, I don't know her name. And she's from…somewhere towards the…west? I don't know that, either. And she's here to be a new dancer!" she finished excitedly.
The other women sweat-dropped. They turned as one towards the girl standing quietly in the doorway. She began to back away as they began to stalk towards her. One did not move—the eldest of them all. Instead, she cried out in a voice that was slightly hoarse with old age, but as strong as it had been in her glory days, "Tell me, girl. My name is Neferet, what is yours?"
All eyes turned towards the girl. She answered in the quietest voice they had ever heard, "I do not have a name."
"Well, then, where are you from?" Neferet asked.
"I do not know. Somewhere in the west, I think."
"…Do your parents know you are now a slave?"
"If they do, they do not care."
The women all gasped. "They don't care? How could they not care that their daughter is now a slave?"
The girl looked at them all with confusion in her eyes, "…should they?"
All at once, the women assembled around her, showering her with affection. "It's alright, little one," they crooned, "we'll take care of you."
Mana nodded happily and skipped outside to find Mahaado. Atem was there waiting with him as well. She gasped, "Atem! You gotta do something! Stay right there! Mahaado, can you make sure he doesn't go anywhere?" Before either man could answer, she ran back inside. She soon came back out, dragging the girl with her. The older women swarmed around them, waiting for Atem's verdict. He could tell by the expectant looks on their faces that he was about to make and important decision. Even old Neferet had come out to watch.
Pushing the girl in front of his face, Mana said impatiently, "Okay, Atem, do your prince-y thing."
Atem blinked once.
Twice.
Three times.
"Um, what thing?"
"She doesn't have a name, my prince!" one of the women cried in horror.
"Please give her one!" cried another.
"The poor little dear needs a name!" one more cried.
Pharaoh Akunamonon appeared behind him, "Go on, son, give her a name. After all, we can't keep calling her 'the girl' or 'slave'."
Atem blinked once.
Twice.
Three times.
Oooooooh, he knew what his father was doing. Usually, if a slave did not have a name, the pharaoh was the only one who could give them one. So why was his father letting him name the girl? Simple. If Atem was the one who named her, in everyone else's eyes, she would officially belong to him. Kind of like a pet. He inwardly cringed at that thought. But he didn't have a choice, everyone was waiting.
"Well, let's name her after some aspect about herself." There, that should make things a little easier.
"All we know is that she's from some village in the west and that she's a new dancer," Mana replied.
Atem could feel a giant sweat-drop form on the back of his head, "So, no one knows…anything about her?"
"Nope!" Mana chirped.
"Well then," the pharaoh spoke up, "the little one's just full of hidden secrets, isn't she?"
The other female slaves sighed in remorse. Their new little one might not be given a name after all. Poor little one.
Atem brightened all of a sudden, "I've got it!" he exclaimed as he snapped his fingers, "How about 'Amunet'?"
The women looked about themselves, murmuring the name quietly—testing it's sound.
The girl looked shyly at Atem, and he heard her soft voice for the first time, " 'The hidden one'?"
Mana noticed the slight blush on Atem's face. I knew he wouldn't be able to not love that sweet voice of hers.
"Y-yes," Atem replied.
"Wonderful!" cried the pharaoh. "Now then, ladies, will you clean her up? She needs to begin learning right away."
"Yes, Pharaoh!" they replied happily. Soon, she was dragged off to the servants' bathing quarters.
"A well picked name, Prince Atem," Mahaado said.
"Yeah, see? That wasn't so hard, was it? I think you're gonna like Amunet. The other ladies love her, and you know how hard it is to break them," Mana giggled.
Atem smiled at Mana, "Well then, I guess she's a special one, isn't she? Amunet…" he tested the name himself. "I think I like it."
Mana giggled. "You mean you didn't even think about it?"
Atem blushed, "Not really."
Mahaado smiled at the two younger ones. I have a feeling things are going to be slightly more interesting around here. I suppose we shall see, Amunet the Dancer.