Free Flail of the Pharoah by Rosanna Challis Page A

bowing low and shaking a little bell. Charmian guessed this was the summons to the royal bedchamber.
    The queen smiled at him. ‘Tell his majesty that we are on our way. Come, Charmian, you will follow a few paces behind me,’ she added imperiously.
    Charmian felt very nervous as she followed the Queen of Egypt in slow procession out of the room and down the corridor where torches flickered in the darkness, throwing grotesque shadows. The two females took on gargantuan shapes, like giantesses thrown in relief against the painted walls, and there was a strong smell of incense in the air that confounded Charmian further so that she felt as if she were in the midst of a bizarre dream.
    After a short while the queen turned off into an antechamber where the same pageboy who, Charmian surmised, must have run ahead of them at top speed, rang another bell to announce their arrival. The smell of incense was overpowering now, and the torches flickering at the entrance to the Pharaoh’s bedchamber were made of gold. Tinkling music could be heard and, in the shadows, she could just make out a group of musicians huddled in the corner, playing for their majesties’ pleasure.
    The queen walked straight on, head held high, and swept through the curtained entrance without further ceremony. Charmian followed, her heart beating rapidly. One day she would come here alone to face the unknown. Tonight she must watch and learn, so that when her turn came she would not be so overwhelmed by the experience.
    Yet it was hard not to feel overawed when she entered the dimly-lit room, where carved columns rose towering above her and a carpet strewn with rose petals led up to a canopied bed. There reclined the Pharaoh wearing the double crown of Egypt, his neck and arms laden with exquisite jewellery and his body clothed in a white pleated tunic from which his muscled thighs emerged onto pure white linen sheets scented with lotus.
    ‘My queen,’ he greeted her eagerly, opening his arms.
    She bowed low as she approached and then knelt beside the bed for his blessing. He kissed the crown of the black wig, but then his gaze turned to Charmian, hovering in the shadows. ‘And you too are welcome, Charmian. Come here, where I may bless you.’ But as she moved forward, eyes downcast, there came a gasp from King Seti. ‘By the Lord Osiris, what have they done to you?’
    She looked up then to see an expression of utter consternation on his face, which only left her bewildered. Queen Mira moved aside nervously from the bed, allowing room for Charmian to kneel in her place, but there was to be no calm and kind benediction for her. Before she could approach Seti addressed his wife in angry tones.
    ‘Are you responsible for turning this girl into a street whore? Speak at once!’
    Mira looked shocked. ‘I… I know not what you mean, sire.’
    ‘The face paint she is wearing makes her look like a clown! Where is her beautiful pale skin? Where is her golden hair? You have turned her into a travesty of an Egyptian girl. Is it out of jealousy that you have done this, woman, or are you trying to upset me?’
    ‘My king, I had no such intent,’ Mira asserted, seizing his hand. ‘I am loyal to your majesty, your true wife. I thought that if Iras made the girl look like one of our own people you would like her more.’
    As Mira spoke Charmian had the feeling she was not being sincere. Whatever game the queen might be playing was obscure, but she knew one thing: she was being used as a pawn.
    Seti shook off his wife’s hand and swung his sturdy legs over the side of the bed. He put both hands on Mira’s shoulders and faced her squarely.
    ‘Listen to me,’ he said. ‘The appeal of this girl, Charmian, lies in her exotic looks and foreign ways. I should have thought any woman close to my heart would understand that. I want to see her natural beauty. If the gods permit, from our eventual coupling a rare child shall emerge, darker than the girl, paler than