AN: First chapter of actual story content, hooray! Anyway, on to the chapter!
Chapter One: Eighteen Coins
The caravan moved slowly through the desert. The camels pulling the wagons ambled across the sand, stopping frequently to graze on a patch of thorny weeds. The merchants directing the wagons would then strike the camels in the flanks with the rods in their hands to urge the animals forward. The camels' bellows of displeasure and the grunts and shouted orders of the merchants who owned them were devoured by the blazing hot sky.
There were three wagons in the caravan, each looking almost identical from the outside, save differing scratches and weathering marks on the cracked wood. Same wooden wheels grinding over sand dune after sand dune, same battered bodies, same sand-covered wagon canopies shading the goods the caravan was delivering.
Inside of the wagons was a different story. The first two wagons' load consisted entirely of fairly typical bolts of cloth, spices, and jewelry. The third wagon also contained some of the usual goods, however, in the back of the third wagon was a large, metal-barred animal cage, with a blanket - that could be barely called one, more accurately a large linen rag - folded at the bottom in a sort of bed, and curled up asleep on the bundled linen was a girl.
She was dirty from the dust being kicked up by the caravan, and her face was visibly bruised, a bit of dried blood crusted above her lip. Her thick brown hair was a tangled mess, and her wrists, bound by rope in front of her, were red and raw. Every so often, she'd twitch and murmur something in her sleep.
The wagon went over a steep sand dune, and with a loud scraping sound, the cage slid a few inches across the wagon floor and into a crate of spices.
If the scraping noise didn't wake the girl up, the impact with the crate definitely did.
"Ow!" she yelped, jerking up as her eyes flew open.
She blinked sleepily and then scowled through the bars at the interior of the wagon.
Still here, she frowned to herself. It hadn't been a dream.
Four days ago, Mana, daughter of Amenhotep, had been snatched up by these traders on a trip to the oasis, tied up, and thrown into this cage. They had been traveling ever since.
Mana had asked where they were going many times, however, none of her captors particularly wanted to tell her that. It was after she had asked that one too many times that one of the traders had struck her across the face, leading to a nosebleed, a split lip, and a red, puffy mark on that side of her face that threatened to turn into a shiner around her eye. After that she had kept quiet, wanting to avoid experiencing that kind of beating again.
Tears pricked at her eyes, although she blinked them away the best she could. Father had to be worried sick about her by now. Had to have the entire household and village searching the desert for her.
However, these traders had at least a day's head start on any rescue party, and they cleverly avoided scrutiny each time someone did take an interest in her cart. They threw a blanket over the cage and were quick to inform her that she would live only long enough to regret it if she dared make any noise to alert anyone that there was a person in the apparently innocent cloth-shrouded crate.
Such a search had happened twice, once by another trader - not a slaver from what Mana could see, just a merchant like Father - and once by a small group of soldiers on horseback, who Mana couldn't ascertain what they wanted and the traders, of course, had no interest in telling her.
Mana rested her head on her knees in despair.
Father had been weakening ever since her mother Anipe had died. What would happen to him with her gone too?
Where was she being taken? Was it on the other side of the river, the far end of the country? Another land altogether?
Will I ever see my family again?
Again, Mana silently wished that this - her current situation - could have been the dream instead of… Well, she still couldn't make heads or tails of what she had just been dreaming about, but it was infinitely preferable to being bound hand and foot and caged like an animal, in the process of being shipped off only the gods knew where.
Mana closed her eyes, picturing that dream, the one she'd been having for the past four nights, ever since her abduction. She'd been standing by the Nile, the water lapping at her feet. It had been night, with a full moon shining down, almost painfully bright, onto her.
She remembered looking around for a few minutes, before realizing something in alarm. On an outcropping of rock not two feet away from her, stood a lion, a young male with an unusual flaming red mane, still tufty and half-grown in. Mana remembered stepping back, after all, lions were dangerous. They were the symbol of Sekhmet for a reason. A lion could kill and eat a lone human if it got hungry enough, and even when not hungry male lions were fiercely territorial of their land and wives.
However, as Mana looked closer, she realized this lion couldn't hurt her even if he wanted to. He was bound to the rock with heavy shackles around each of his tawny legs, and a heavy, ungainly black helmet with chains attached, almost like an ox yoke, had been locked onto his head, keeping him from raising it higher than two feet or so from the rocks. He was straining and fighting against the helmet, trying to lift his head, snarling in frustration when the chains didn't budge.
Mana frowned. Although she knew well that lions were dangerous, and those chains were likely the only thing keeping the lion from pouncing on her, she couldn't help but feel it a bit cruel to leave him bound up like this.
Against her better judgment, she took a step towards the lion.
The lion saw her and growled in warning, bristling.
"W-Wait… I'm a friend," Mana said uncertainly.
The lion growled a bit louder. Now that she got closer, she could see the lion's body was covered in scars - bruises on top of bruises and lash marks on top of lash marks.
"I'm… not going to hurt you," Mana said, becoming more sure of that as she said it. "Please… I can get that off, if you'd like…"
The lion's growling lowered in volume, and he wasn't bristling as much. His gaze was wary, but not furious.
"That's it…" Mana said encouragingly, slowly closing the distance between her and the lion. "I want to help you. Just… let me-"
The dream always ended seconds before she touched the lion's scarred shoulder.
Mana opened her eyes, finding herself back in the cage, and sighed. That dream still made no sense. She had never seen a lion with such vibrant red fur before, or heard of one. And why was it yoked to the rocks like that? Why did it look like it had been vexed and beaten by very-much-human whips? Who would have the courage - frankly lack of self-preservation - to try to whip a lion, even a half-grown one?
And why did she keep having that dream every time she so much as rested her eyes for a moment, ever since this journey with the slave traders began?
Mana curled up on the bottom of her cage, not wanting to fall asleep but at the same time hoping that having that dream again would reveal some secret meaning she had yet to find in all previous times.
There wasn't much to do except sleep, trapped in this cage. She had no use of her hands and limited space, and if she was too loud or too rebellious or simply had the bad luck to catch one of the traders in a foul mood, she faced being screamed at at best and a beating at worst. She had gotten the worst clout to the ear in her memory after one of the traders had become fed up with her singing Mother's old lullaby under her breath to lift her spirits.
Lying on her side, bunching up a section of the linen blanket to make a sort of pillow to prop up her head, she watched a beetle creep past, skittering back and forth on its little legs at the mercy of the up-and-down journey of the cart over the sand dunes.
Eventually, the beetle opened its wings and flew out to brave the desert wind, and Mana sighed.
The hours blended together, meaning Mana had no idea how long they had been traveling when she suddenly snapped out of her half-asleep state, realizing she was hearing voices all around her and that the wagon had suddenly stopped.
"Scarves! Finely woven scarves!"
"Come and buy my freshly picked figs!"
"No, no, spend a little on my spices!"
Mana lifted her head. It sounded like they had entered a market. Her heart thumped as she realized this was probably where her journey would end - sold to a wealthy family as their slave.
Two of the carts did stop in the marketplace, however, her cart was slowly moving forward again, past the marketplace altogether.
Wait… I thought they were going to sell me off! They'd do that in the marketplace, right?
Mana wished she could see outside of the wagon. The most she could see was a massive stone wall, slowly drawing closer and closer.
Then the wagon stopped again.
"Who goes there!?" a voice barked.
"I have a shipment purchased by the Lord Regent, sir!" one of the traders, the lead one from what Mana had been able to glean over the four-day journey, replied.
The… Lord Regent?
Mana then realized exactly where she was - the Great House of Egypt, the palace of the ruler of Egypt himself! She was being sold here?!
One of the traders poked his head into the wagon and unlocked the cage. "Out, girl. Be quick about it."
Mana gingerly climbed out of the cage, blood rushing to her legs as she was able to straighten them again. She wobbled, leaning on the roof of the cage for balance.
The trader unsympathetically snatched up her rope-bound hands and secured another rope around it, like a lead for an animal, before yanking her out of the wagon and into the blinding sunlight. Mana squinted, wishing she could rub her eyes.
She was standing out front of a massive gate, the alabaster stone towers of the Great House gleaming behind it. The trader dragged her over to the front gate, where guards and servants were in the process of unloading the crates and bundles that had been in the wagon with her.
One guard, a man with shoulder-length dark hair and a stern expression, looked her up and down.
"Who is this?" he asked severely.
"Another part of the payment I owe, General," the lead trader said with a bow. "My own daughter, sold as a servant to the Lord Regent. She is sixteen, and a hard worker. She will do well under Lord Aknadin's command."
Mana opened her mouth to protest - she wasn't this trader's daughter! Her real father was at home, likely scared to death and tearing the desert apart looking for her! However, before she could even make a sound, the trader stamped on her foot, warning her to keep quiet.
The general's eyes narrowed. "For what price?"
"Lord Aknadin and I agreed on eighteen silver coins," the trader said, eagerly holding out his hand for the money.
"Eighteen," the general said, a note of sardonicism entering his voice. "Very well. I fear I don't have that sum of money to give you at the moment." To one of the guards under his command, he said, "You, fetch Lord Shada. He ought to have access to the treasury, and the silver requested by this trader."
"Yes, sir," the guard replied, before disappearing through the open gate.
"Oh - o-of course," the lead trader said.
The general looked over Mana again. "How old did you say she was?"
"Sixteen, sir," the merchant said.
"Small for sixteen," the general murmured.
"It has been… hard for us to obtain proper food since the famine. She's stronger than she looks, I can assure you of that. And, barring anything else, she has a certain prettiness to her. She can always be a concubine."
Mana kept her eyes down, but inwardly wanted the trader to just be quiet, to stop spouting off lies and advertising her features as if she were a prized cow.
The general gave the trader another searching look. "Very well. I can hardly argue with Lord Aknadin's orders. However, should you be lying, about any aspect of your story, I'll collect payment in the form of your head."
"Y-Yes, as is your right, sir," the trader cringed.
"Follow us inside, merchant," a nearby guard said. "We shall oversee bringing the rest of your payment in."
Karim gave each of the guards a sharp look. "If I catch any of you taking some of this fellow's payment to line your own purses, the same shall be flogged!" he announced.
The guards froze in fear, giving the general a chorus of affirmations that of course they wouldn't dare steal from the Lord Regent's property.
Mana was shaking as she was pulled through the Great House's gate. She was being sold to the Lord Regent of Egypt, as his house servant, as his trophy, as his concubine, as whatever he liked. There was next to no hope of her fleeing for home now.
In the courtyard were even more guards and servants, swarming around the cart and running errands back and forth. Standing just behind the gate were two men, surrounded by guards. They both looked surprisingly young, one looking about the age the trader had arbitrarily assigned her, sixteen, and the other looking just a few years older.
The younger of the two had brown hair that looked almost copper when the sun struck it right, and piercing blue eyes that coldly took her apart upon finding her. He was dressed in a cobalt shade that matched his eyes - his tunic, the lapis inlaid into his gold collar and wrist cuffs, and the eyes of his crown, decorated with the head of a cobra. The older one had intricate tattoos on his shaved forehead and his eyes were more gray than blue.
"Your Highness!" the merchant said, immediately prostrating on the ground at the feet of the younger man. The trader holding Mana forced her to her knees as well. "I-I wasn't expecting you to oversee the payment of my debt yourself!"
"Lord Aknadin informed me you were coming. He said this would be among my duties as Pharaoh, a day that is drawing nearer, and thus I ought to begin now," the young man said coldly. "But you hardly have the authority to question my presence here. Get up."
The traders both stood, and Mana gingerly rose to her feet too, feeling her knee sting and begin to bleed from being forced onto the stone. However, she barely noticed. Her heart raced. The boy standing in front of her was Lord Regent Aknadin's heir! The Crown Prince?!
"What do you have to pay Lord Aknadin with?" the prince asked, a smirk crossing his face.
"Seven crates of dried meat, ten bushels of grain, and twenty bundles of spices, my lord," the trader said. "And my only daughter as a servant, wherever she is needed."
The prince sneered. "That waif? She'll be lucky if she doesn't break in two after a day's work!"
Mana frowned, yearning to snap something back but knowing this boy of all people was not someone she should cross
"Lord Seth, I believe we could…" the older man cut in, lowering his voice to a whisper Mana couldn't make out as he leaned over to say what was on his mind in the prince's ear.
"Is he really in need of another…?" the prince whispered back.
"Lord Aknadin informed me… Did he not tell you…?"
"I didn't hear one word." The prince huffed. "Fine. Shada? Give that trader the money he asked for."
Shada reached into the money sack at his waist and counted out eighteen silver coins, dropping them into the trader's grasping hands.
"Go," the prince told the traders. "Your debt has been repaid. Escort them out," he said, addressing the last part to the guards. "Now, as for you." He walked up to Mana, and she took a terrified step back as he drew his sword.
But he only used it to slice off her bonds.
"We're still considering a place for you, little girl. For now, you can help the serving girls in the kitchen. I suppose you can do that?" the prince said.
Mana fought to keep her voice even as she said, "I-I can, sir."
"Good. You two!" he said to two maids who had appeared in the commotion. "Get this girl properly dressed and cleaned up. There is no reason for a servant of the Lord Regent to look like a wild animal."
"Yes, sire," the older of the two said. "Come here, girl."
"The rest of you, get back to your duties! You've had a good enough show this morning with that fool's payment!" the prince shouted.
A cry of "Yes, Lord Seth!" in varying cadences and fear levels floated up from the courtyard as the guards and servants scattered back to their respective posts. Mana was led by the two maids through the inner gate into the Great House itself.
Mana was bathed - which would have been nice except for the fact the warm water aggravated the hundreds of tiny cuts, bruises, and stray splinters she had accumulated in her four-day captive journey - and had every tangle picked out of her wild brown hair. Then the maids, who introduced themselves as Dinah and Nailah, dressed her in a clean linen dress like they were wearing.
"This way to the kitchens, child," Dinah said. "I suppose Kisara and Teana can look after you from here."
"K-Kisara?" Mana asked.
"She mentors all the new ones," Nailah answered. "You won't miss her, she's pale as a ghost!"
"Nailah! Watch your tongue!" Dinah scolded the younger maid. "Pardon my sister. I'm afraid we can't stay with you the whole day, there's work to be done elsewhere. But, as I said, Kisara will take good care of you."
Mana was left standing, confused, at the door entering the kitchens, too nervous to call out her apparent mentor's name.
"Hey!" a voice called. "You, there! By the door!"
Mana blinked and looked around.
"Yeah! You in the floppy hat, I need some help over here!"
Mana finally spied who was calling her name, a girl a few years older than her in a similar linen dress. Her hair, cut short around her chin, was brown, and her eyes matched. She put her hands on her hips, her gaze stern. "You know you're playing with your life standing around doing nothing in the Great House's kitchen, right? Come on, help me turn these!"
She took up position beside a spit of roast duck over a roaring fire and began turning it, beckoning Mana to do the same.
The spit wasn't too hard to turn, although the fact it was twice as big as the one her family used at home didn't mean it was easy, either. The main problem was, standing right beside the fire, Mana's fingers were slick with sweat within minutes, and smoke and burning cinders always seemed to be flying up into her face. After the third time she coughed, the older girl frowned.
"Is the smoke bothering you?" she asked.
Mana nodded, taking a moment to wipe her eyes before continuing to turn the spit.
"Here, trade me spots. It's not as bad over here." She stood up, allowing Mana to stand where she had been. It was true that there was much less smoke being flung up into her face, although her eyes still stung.
"By the way," the girl said. "I don't think I've ever seen you around here before. Are you new? Do you work in a different section of the palace or something?"
"I'm… pretty new," Mana replied.
"Well, welcome to the Great House of Egypt! I'm Teana!"
"I'm Mana," Mana replied. "Um, do you know where I can find someone named Kisara? Dinah said she was going to show me around."
"Oh! You're in luck, then! Kisara and I go way back! She was just here, she ran off to go do something, but I'm sure she'll be back in a minute. In the meantime, we can finish these!" She gestured to the roast ducks on spits they were in the process of cooking.
Teana showed Mana how to remove the ducks from the spit once they were done cooking, and who to pass them to to be served with the Lord Regent's noon meal.
Mana's stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since one of the traders had thrown her a piece of charred bread and a fig the previous night when they'd stopped for camp.
"We get our own noon meal after we're finished making food for the nobles. Not as impressive, but it fills you up, and that's what's important," Teana said, picking up a bucket of water to douse the fire they had been using. "Still, working in the kitchen makes me hungry, too…"
"In a moment, Rashid, I left Teana cooking the roast duck by herself," a quiet voice said politely.
Mana turned to see a girl emerge from the crush of bodies gathered around a washtub scrubbing dishes.
She was also dressed like all the other serving girls, however, that was where the similarities ended. Her long hair was silver, her skin was pale and ghostly, and her eyes were a deeper, richer shade of blue than the Crown Prince's. Even in the dimly lit, crowded kitchen, she managed to look unearthly and strangely powerful. Mana thought she saw a clap of lightning flicker across her eyes.
"Teana!" the girl called. Her voice was quiet, but still seemed to cut through the room. "Sorry I took so long, we need all the hands we can get at the washtub right now, and-" She broke off when she saw Mana standing there.
"Yeah, I grabbed a girl to fill your post while you were gone, Kisara - hope you don't mind!" Teana said, grinning at the girl. "She was told to talk to you because she's new around here. Mana, this is Kisara."
"It's nice to meet you, Mana," Kisara said with a smile. "Teana, do you mind if I borrow her for a bit? We still need a lot of people at the washtub."
"Not at all, Kisara, we just finished the roast duck. I was just about to put the fire out."
Kisara nodded. "Come with me, Mana. There's going to be loads of dishes coming in after lunch, so it'll be best if you've found a rhythm by then."
Mana soon found herself kneeling beside the large washtub, scrubbing goblets and plates with a group of about twelve other servants.
"E-Excuse me," Mana said as she accidentally bumped elbows with someone.
"These hired girls keep on getting younger," the servant grumbled. "How old are you, girl? Twelve?"
"Sixteen," Mana said, deciding to stick with the trader's lie.
"Of course," the servant said, before going back to washing dishes.
It seemed like ages later that Kisara tapped her on the shoulder.
"Hey, a lot of food got sent back to the kitchens. Hurry or there won't be anything good left."
Mana shakily stood, her legs numb from kneeling in one position for so long, and followed Kisara over to the cooking fire, where Teana was eagerly tearing into a duck leg. Other serving girls were crowded around the center of the kitchen, where plates upon plates of leftovers had been placed.
Teana passed Mana a bowl filled with lamb stew and a chunk of bread. "I saved this for you, just so you got something."
"There's still so much…" Mana trailed off. "Did any of it get eaten?"
"Yeah, quite a bit. Of course, most of it went to-oww! Kisara!" Teana began, only for Kisara to elbow her in the stomach and urgently whisper, "Later, Teana, don't scare her!"
"Lord Regent Aknadin always asks for more than he needs," Kisara continued. "There are a lot of people in the Great House anyway, and it's better to have a surplus than not enough. Especially since us servants get a cut then."
"Lord Aknadin didn't touch any of it, I guarantee you. I'm half convinced he feeds on the souls of the damned," Teana said flatly.
"Teana, watch your tongue," Kisara said mildly. "That's a harsh thing to insinuate about Egypt's ruler."
"Well, have you ever seen him actually eat any of the food we make? Does he have a whole other kitchen he takes food from?"
"I don't pay attention to what Lord Regent Aknadin eats," Kisara said matter-of-factly. "I am a kitchen girl. I help make the food and send it to him and the other nobles. Whether he eats it or not is out of my control."
"You certainly pay attention to whether the Crown Prince is eating right," Teana teased, pointing at Kisara with the half-eaten remains of her duck leg.
Kisara's pale face turned brilliant red. "Teana, Prince Seth gave me a job when no one else would even consider me because of my features. He saved my life. Of course I'd feel indebted to him. And stop that, you're acting like a child!" she added as Teana leaned over conspiratorially and pursed her lips in a kissing face, gesturing at Kisara with her thumb.
Mana couldn't help but giggle, stifling it behind her hand. It felt good to laugh, probably for the first time in days.
Teana innocently went back to eating her roast duck, pretending not to see Kisara's annoyed look.
Mana's smile faded. Finding nice people she could laugh with didn't change the fact she was stuck at the Great House, a prisoner.
"Hey," Teana said. "Are you okay?"
"I'm…I'm fine."
"Homesick?" Teana guessed.
"...C-Can you really tell?" Mana asked, wiping her eyes.
"I've been there, that's why. I was inconsolable my first day here," Teana said. "Cried into the stew so much it was salty."
Kisara squeezed Mana's hand. "It's not so bad here once you get used to the work. If you do what you're told, no one can fault you for anything."
That didn't really make Mana feel better, but she knew the white-haired girl was trying to cheer her up, so she forced a smile.
"Well, I'm glad to see at least a few friendly faces around here," she said. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Kisara said. Teana was mid-bite, so she couldn't say the same, but she nodded eagerly.
While they ate, Kisara pointed out different places in the kitchen and what one had to do working there.
"You'll probably be kept washing dishes for the first few weeks," Kisara said. "It's the simplest job, especially since some of the nobles get particular about how their food is prepared."
Teana coughed and, between coughs, Mana clearly caught Crown Prince Seth.
Kisara closed her eyes, irritated. "Anyway, you likely won't be trusted with actually cooking something until you have a bit of experience. Today was an anomaly, and you had Teana to show you the right way to do it."
"All we were doing was turning spits," Teana protested, before popping a bite of bread in her mouth.
"Kisara, Teana, we need to get back to work," the same servant who had commented on Mana's age said abruptly. Mana guessed he was Rashid. "New girl, we want you back at the washtub cleaning dishes again. The plates that had leftovers still need to be cleaned."
Mana knelt in front of the washtub and picked up the first plate to start scrubbing it.
She frowned, remembering something.
What was Teana about to say before Kisara cut her off? Something about most of the food going to one person?
Who could need that much food?