A/N: READ!!! Please?
Chapter 1:
The Beginnings
Just before the sun sets on the moment of the sixth interval of a seven-day rotation does Mukhtar, (the regal cook) scrupulously place an ice chest inside the pit dug by us workers. The pit has been dug near the west sector of the palace, which gives us an easy access to the chest before the next night, when a local worker comes and takes all that is in the pit and discards of it by the Nile and lets the currents take everything away, all the contents bearing within the box. Untouched and unbothered...or so they think. But do they really know the truth?
There are six of , Tryphaena, Siddique, Anata, Younas, and myself. In minutes we were all huddled together behind a strangely structured plant of the Cassia spice, holding our breaths till the moment was right. As we got restless the leaves of the plant started rustling, luckily Mukhtar didn't notice because the wind, as though right on cue made it seem as though it was only a sheet of a strong midnight breeze. Finally we quietly watched the back of Mukhtar's sleek body strolling back down the moss-infested path. Not to draw the slightest bit of attention we remained silenced for a while longer, until no trace of anyone other than the six of us was to be seen in an eyes view.
Quick and stealthy. We filed out from behind the bush in order from boys first to girl's surveilling every step of the ones ahead of them. Trying not to trail behind I commanded my self and the others to move at a faster pace.
I felt something nudging at my ribcage. Startled, my quick wits took no time to assume that it was only Anata shoving through to get to the goods first. And indeed I was correct for that brat had had her way for the last time... I was not going to let her leave the rest of us to the short end of the stick. I wasn't scared of her! I had planted my feet down and stood my ground, so she could not get through. Luckily, I made it to the pit just in time before Anata's grimy hands could. I could feel the winds getting stronger tugging at my skirt as though they were trying to tell me something. The night was becoming darker and from the sounds that the clouds were making above I could tell that rainfall season was drawing nearer and the Nile would also be bringing along its yearly floods, which means that these items could not go to waste. That of what the wealthy may call 'junk' but to us slaves, to us...the poor, well we call them our treasures.
What glories this box held within! Tonight we were lucky for at times the chest bore only of the sand remnants blown in with the gust of the sandy, dry winds. Once again Anata had started her whining...almost as if I had expected it from her. She was 13 years old (1 year younger than I) but as spoiled as she was she acted like she was one of our elders. I started to search through the chest, when I came across it. It was ravishing! Gold papyrus leaves bound together with what seemed a long gold sprig of entwined wires of some sort, alongside a gold feather type of utensil. Forgotten all about the other trinkets, food and whatever else was in the ice chest, my fascination had been nourished enough, for Anata was once again becoming impatient.
Most of us servants have had our share of working in the scorching Egyptian sunlight for continuous hours a day, and no matter what our origins were, we all bear a chestnut brownish tan pigment. My name is Mariasha, and I am within one of these 'dark people' groups, for I am a servant in the royal palace of the pharaoh designated in the city of Alexandria. I am what the wealthy call a slave, what the middle class calls a servant or worker, and what the all others may call a peasant or just another girl. My only equals are the rest of the young slaves in training. At just bout infancy, I was deported from my family and taken care of by the palace maids. My only remaining family is my sister Rumaysah; she whom you may say is my 'biological' sibling, and from what I have heard, my only living relative at that too.
Today Rumaysah, Tryphaena and I were assigned in the northeast quarter of the palace. Although quiet unlikely indeed, the three of us considered this room our own. Stepping foot in this room was like entering an atmosphere entirely apart from any that you will find on the face of the sole earth. It was like a palace in a palace. The walls were studded with gemstones, rubies, diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, amethyst, and just about any other beauty you could think of. The walls themselves reflected such a light, such a glitter it was almost unreal. Beauty just dripped from the walls of this room. There were gold casted columns, vases, and "muttqa's". Exquisite, hand-painted portraits clung to the walls. The ceiling was encrypted with hieroglyphics and figures from pharaoh Tutenkhamun's era. It was almost as though the sky had opened its doors and beamed down the lights of heaven, right into this room.
The three of us were the best of friends amongst all of the slave children. For the moment we sat around letting the beauty of this room soak into our souls. Giggling and squealing like little girls amongst our constant chatter we were having a great time, like the good old days, until we heard footsteps thudding outside in the hallway by the room. My heart skipped a beat.
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