Disclaimer: I do not own Ardeth (Dakarai) or Evy (Nefertiri). I own Chanda, though. So there.
Chanda knew something was up. The performance had gone exceedingly well, and she'd not said a single word, not that anyone there would have understood it. Still, Bhagra seemed unusually distracted. Chanda was more than a little affronted that he'd not bothered to either thank her for not causing a scene or congratulate her on a successful performance. Actually, it had been better than successful, it was her best performance in a very long time. She was sitting in a tent in the palace courtyard removing the jewelry and scrubbing clean her made up face, and Bhagra was pacing outside. Chanda tried to concentrate on the rustle of the breeze through the canvas to no avail. The prevailing noise was that of her pudgy master's shuffling footsteps. Back and forth. Back and forth. Chanda threw down the last of her bracelets and stormed out of the tent.
"Stop it!" she hissed. Bhagra was little more than surprised, "You're driving me mad. Either tell someone, preferably not myself, what's wrong, or go to bed." Bhagra gazed at her in stunned silence before shaking his head.
"Chanda, leave me be, I can't deal with you right now." He grumbled, returning to his fevered pacing.
"Well, that's some gratitude." Chanda scolded, crossing her arms, "I give a brilliant performance, at your request I might add, and you treat me this way. Ten percent isn't worth this kind of ingratitude."
"Then run away, Chanda." Bhagra replied, stopping in his tracks and looking her in the eye, something he rarely dared to do, "Run far away. Run to the north. Get as far away as possible." Chanda raised one eyebrow and her muscles tensed.
"What are you up to?" she asked quietly. Bhagra diverted his gaze and recommenced his pacing. Chanda huffed noisily and rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you. Scaring me like that. You know I think I did rather well tonight, Bhagra, and I behaved myself." She was the only girl who called him Bhagra, and she was the only one who dared.
"You were amazing Chanda," Bhagra said sincerely, "And for all my blustering I almost wish you hadn't been there at all."
"How's that for gratitude?"
"You don't know what you're talking about, girl." Bhagra had begun playing with the earring in his right ear, twisting it around and around as he only did when he was nervous. Chanda, who was now sitting on the ground nea rhte entrance to the tent grew tense once more.
" What is going on, Bhagra?" she asked, "You're dancing on my last nerve. I have a right to know what it is that I've done that's got you in such a condition."
"So that you may repeat it, I suppose." Bhagra chuckled.
"Stop stalling, and tell me."
"Alright." He hissed, spinning on one heal to face her. "Alright." he said more calmly. The short, pudgy man let out a sigh and lowered himself to the ground in front of her.
"Now, what have I done wrong this time?" Chanda asked, leaning back on the tent post and crossing her arms, "What is so grave that you wish me to run away?"
"I thought you wanted to run."
"Bhagra." She warned.
"OK. OK. You have done nothing, my dear girl. That was the finest performance I've seen in a long time from you."
"I had proper motivation." Let him assume that she was referring to the money and not the handsome soldier at Seti's table.
"Yes, well, perhaps it was too much motivation." He sighed, "Seti liked the performance."
"I'm not following. I thought that was a good thing."
"He liked it a little too well." Bhagra replied, pinching the bridge of his nose with his stubby little fingers. "We have to get you away from here, tonight. You have to go as far as you can. I will disguise Indrani, she is as tall as you, has the same color eyes. We are foreign to the sight of these Egyptians, and Seti was drinking heavily. If we keep a veil on her, Seti will not notice the difference." Bhagra had taken his hand from his face, and his eyes were grave. A chill ran through Chanda. She knew what he meant now, and she tried not to believe it.
"I don't understand." She lied.
"Of course you do. You are a beautiful creature, and this was bound to happen eventually. He offers a handsome sum."
"So why do you tell me? Why do you not take it?"
"You know very well I cannot. For as much grief as you give me, I am your guardian. You may not prefer this life, but it is far more honorable than the fate which awaits you. It is the same fate that awaited you then, chosen by the Maharaja of Andhara to be one of his consorts. I cannot consign you tot eh fate I initially delivered you from."
"Stop making yourself the hero."
"Stop being so difficult."
"At least I would have stayed in the land of my birth."
"You know the character of the Maharaja as well as anyone from Andhara. I suspect even this Seti is a preferable alternative to him. Still, I cannot allow you to be disgraced so."
"What would you have me do? Die in the desert?"
"That is your choice now, Chanda." Bhagra replied, getting to his feet. "I will acquire some heavy robes of the native people. Should you choose to flee, you know where to find me." Bhagra turned and walked away, disappearing behind one of the tents that housed three of the other girls. Chanda sat for a moment in silence. She could get angry at Bhagra: first, for abducting her from her homeland and second, for bringing her before this foreign king. There was nothing for it, though. She knew her options, and she knew what she had to do. Chanda stood with a sigh and went inside her tent. She had a relatively plush lifestyle for a slave. She wondered for how long she'd be on the run.
Seti's court was bustling the next morning. The party was a smashing success, and word had got out that Seti had selected a fifth for his harem. Of course as a prince he'd had available consorts, though his harem had been ostentatiously empty until the death of his wife during childbirth. She'd given him a strong son, and a lovely daughter. There was very little more any man could ask, but he had loved her. So he now kept a harem, and until he chose a wife, Nefertiri was the closest Egypt would have to a queen. And everyone loved her.
Seti waited patiently in his throne, consulting with his most trusted advisor. Imhotep was a shrewd and intelligent individual. His charisma and apparent ability to make eerily accurate predictions had ensured his place at pharaoh's side. Nefertiri never much liked or trusted the priest, but there was little she could say about the matter. Plans would soon commence for the construction of Seti's pyramid, and Imhotep would be the chief spiritual advisor to the royal architect. It was a monumental job. The very fate of the pharaoh's soul rested in the preparations made for the afterlife. Besides, Nefertiri decided, just how horrible could the priest be?
Bhagra's palms were sweating, and he feared perhaps his brow was, too. Indrani was wearing the regular dancing regalia, but her head and face were covered by a translucent, iridescent pale pink veil. She was younger than Chanda, and lacked the muscle tone, but as for height and hair length they were about the same. Bhagra was sure the pharaoh would never know the difference. Still, he was visibly nervous. But, as the great doors to the throne room were opened for him, he knew there was no turning back. He'd coached Indrani all night, teaching her to walk like Chanda, to carry the same rebellious attitude, and most importantly, to answer to "Chanda."
Pharaoh was pleased to see the short chubby man arrive with the exotic dancing girl by his side. He'd been almost afraid the man would try to slip away during the night, thinking he could escape the Pharaoh's soldiers. It would have been unwise to try such a stunt, but the Pharaoh suspected this shrewd man would do just about anything to guard his primary source of income. Seti smiled as the two approached the throne and kneeled before him. The girl's face was hidden, but this only enticed him. She was the rare, the exotic, something wild and untamed. It was his right as ruler to posses all the rare fruits of the earth, and she was the rarest he'd seen.
"Your majesty." The pudgy man spoke. His Egyptian was horrid, Seti hadn't really noticed at the party, but he'd been drinking for some time when the dancers arrived, "I bring you the finest jewel of India."
"Ah yes, Chanda," Seti said, standing and walking forward. He approached the two and Bhagra's pace quickened, "How could I forget such a beautiful name?" Seti reached down and took the girls chin in his gently fingers, raising her to her feet. Bhagra's heart nearly stopped. "I thank you for bringing her to me, I know she is valuable to you."
"Yes sir," Bhagra barely managed. His head was beginning to swim. His skin was hot and cold at once. He felt sick.
"It is because of this, your sacrafice that I am willing to give you twice what we discussed last night. I never like to inconvenience a businessman." Seti smiled at the girl as he talked to her master. Bhagra's head snapped up. Seti hadn't noticed. At least, not yet. If he followed the traditions of most kings, she would be stolen away into the harem and cleaned up, prepared according tot he local style and custom. It may be days before the king set eyes on her again and by then, Chanda would be far away.
"My king, your first offer was far too generous, but this…"
"Nonesense," Seti said, beckoning Bhagra to his feet, "In return I ask only that you provide this girl her wardrobe and jewelry. I would prefer her to be authentic. She will be the only one of her kind, and she will not wear the same costume of the other women."
"That's easy enough, your highness, but the clothes and jewelry are worth nowhere near…"
"That is the end of it, Bhagra. You will go now and gather her things. Dakarai," the soldier was standing by the door, watching all this with great scrutiny, "escort this girl to my harem. See too it that she gets cleaned up." Dakarai came forward at pharaoh's command, a little surprised at what he was witnessing. Had the pharaoh purchased the dancing girl from last night? Not that Dakarai could personally blame him, but Seti was not known for these kinds of rash, impulsive actions. Dakarai bowed to the pharaoh and turned to the costumed woman in the veil. Suddenly, he was confused.
"Pharaoh, if I may?" he said, tilting his head a little. It was hard to see through the veil, and she was the right height, but he was almost sure he was correct.
"Yes, Dakarai? What is it?" Pharaoh said, perplexed. Dakarai was a good soldier, and he rarely spoke up. It was then that Nefertiri saw the heavy Indian man clutch his left arm.
"This is not the dancing girl from your majesty's celebration last night."
It was then that Bhagra's knees gave way and he collapsed onto the polished limestone of Seti's throne room, and there was nothing the court healers could do.
A/N: This took awhile, but I had to go read Nakhti's "Harem Nights." I think I can safely assure everyone that this story will not be taking the same route. Great story by the way (see, don't feel bad, now I'm plugging you) especially if you're like me and you like longer stories instead of the half-assed ones where everyone's gotten laid by the end of chapter 2. I admire those who build their characters. Thank you so very much to Shorty McGee (I may take you up on that offer if I write something I think might be a boo-boo), Pirate Gyrl, FawkesFire, Karita, Nakhti, and BrokenAngel1753.