Flail of the Pharoah (6 page)

‘Should we tell father?’

Mira considered. If she reported the blasphemy to Seti there would have to be a tribunal and the king was inclined to be lenient, especially towards those who had recently shared his bed. Perhaps the whore had been relying on that, hoping to get away with her scandalous accusation. But why had she made it in the first place? She needed to question her son further, in case he was making the whole thing up, for his own ends.

‘Did you do anything to provoke this woman?’ she wanted to know. ‘Did you taunt her in any way?’

‘Mother, how could you suggest such a thing?’

‘Then tell me exactly what happened, step by step, leading up to her outburst. Don’t hide anything from me, Neshi. I shall find out the truth in the end. Where were you when this happened?’

‘In a corner of the harem, minding my own business. She came up to me all flirtatious, and at first she said that I must be proud to have such a fine father. I thought she meant King Seti, naturally. I thanked her nicely, but then she came onto me.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘She had not long come from the Pharaoh’s bed, and I think she was still hot. She took my hand and played with my fingers, simpering and giggling. Then she said I was handsome. She said if a boy took after his father, then I must be well endowed. I was very embarrassed, mother.’

‘I’m sure you were. She had no right to speak so crudely to you. For that alone, she should be punished.’

Neshi looked rather sly. Again it crossed Mira’s mind to wonder whether he was inventing this story, but it suited her to believe him. The lesser concubines must be disciplined, so they did not attempt to rise above their station and dare to challenge the queen herself. She glanced at Charmian, who sat silent and wide-eyed. There was another who must be kept in her place. Perhaps this would prove a salutary lesson for her.

‘That was not all, mother,’ Neshi continued. ‘She followed up that remark by attempting to feel between my legs.’

‘What?’ Mira leapt up, astonished. ‘You mean she actually tried to touch your privates?’

Neshi nodded. ‘Naturally I tried to stop her but she begged me to let her have a feel, so she could compare my equipment, as she called it, to the king’s. She said if I were as well endowed as he, that would prove my royal origins. I tried to dodge out of her way, but when she persisted I slapped her hand and that was when she turned against me. That was when she uttered that dreadful slander.’

‘Repeat, word for word, what she said, my son.’

He frowned, as if trying to remember her exact words. ‘She said I was afraid to let her feel because the Pharaoh was not my true father. My mother had whored herself with the high priest, and got me that way. She said I must be a gelding like him, a fat gelded pig. Then she burst into horrid laughter and ran away.’

Mira felt her heart and pulses racing in some demonic dance, urging vengeance for this obscene slight on her reputation and that of her son. She addressed him solemnly. ‘Neshi, your good name has been sullied by this creature and your mother’s name besmirched as well. It is the duty of a man to avenge such a crime and you must take it upon yourself, even though you are not yet fully grown. Such deeds help a boy to take on the noble mantle of manhood. Are you up to the task?’

‘Tell me what I should do, mother. My heart is full of pain at the wrong done to us both.’

‘Well said, Neshi. You are indeed your father’s son as well as your mother’s. Go straight to the woman and tell her that Queen Mira wishes to see her, now. She will not dare refuse.’

The lad nodded and left the chamber. Mira felt again that surge of excitement at the prospect of witnessing the bitch’s humiliation and punishment. However, she must not appear cruel in front of Charmian. Her reputation as a kind and caring mentor for the new girl of the harem must remain intact, so this act of justice would require very careful handling.

Neshi returned with the sullen girl dragging at his heels. Mira took in the heavy-lidded eyes that stared past her, dull and vacant, the slightly bedraggled hair and the pouting mouth. She wore a tight, revealing shift that showed every bulge of her body, flattening the dark nipples against her rotund breasts and revealing the cleft in her shaven delta. Despite her attitude of defiant insubordination the girl had a voluptuous air about her, as if she were still wallowing in the luxury of the Pharaoh’s bed, and Mira fancied she could almost smell her husband’s intimate odours upon the creature even though she must have bathed at dawn.

‘Kiya, kneel!’ Mira commanded brusquely. ‘Make your obeisance to your queen.’ She was slow to obey, and Mira felt her blood start to boil as the bitch sashayed insolently towards her then gave a token bob. ‘I said kneel!’ she repeated coldly, barely containing her anger. She longed to slap that impudent face, but retribution would be Neshi’s prerogative since he was the one who had been more directly wounded by her reckless words.

Kiya bent her knee with a surly look of disdain, holding her head high instead of lowering it in the presence of her queen, as was the custom. Mira took a deep breath to prevent herself from losing control. In a calm and measured tone, she interrogated the girl.

‘My son, the Crown Prince Neshi, claims you have insulted both him and myself. How do you answer this accusation?’

She remained silent, so Mira repeated, ‘How do you answer this accusation?’

Kiya shrugged. ‘Whatever I say will not be believed. Think what you like.’

It was hard to believe the girl was prepared to put herself in jeopardy like this. Mira was unsure what to do about it. If she would not confess to her crime, how should she proceed? She began to wish she had handed her over to the king’s justice. He would know what to do.

The queen turned to her son. ‘Were there any witnesses, Neshi?’

He shook his head. ‘The girl was cunning and chose a quiet corner where we would neither be seen nor overheard.’

‘Then I must take your word for it. You are the Crown Prince of Egypt, and your word is sacrosanct. To you, the representative on earth of the great Horus, is given the duty of divine retribution.’ She turned back to Kiya. ‘On your feet, girl!’

An audible sigh issued from the girl as she slowly heaved her body into an upright position, her eyes glazed with indifference. Mira had been thinking of decreeing six lashes, but this continuing attitude of defiance hardened her heart.

‘Foul deeds and words directed against a Crown Prince of Egypt and, by inference, against the Queen Mother, carries a severe penalty.’ She paused, her eyes searching the miscreant’s face for any sign of repentance, but there was none. ‘You are fortunate indeed that Prince Neshi brought this matter to my attention, instead of to the Pharaoh’s. He would not have been so lenient.’

Mira glanced at Charmian. She was still sitting on the sidelines with her hands clasped in her lap, but she now looked quite frightened. That was just as well; this lesson would be striking home.

‘In view of the severity of the offence, and your refusal to admit to the crime, I sentence you to twelve lashes, administered by the crown prince himself.’

There was a gasp from Charmian, but Kiya remained unmoved. Deciding that she needed to appear fair and compassionate, Mira added, ‘I will give you one more chance to confess to your crime, in which case your sentence shall be reduced to six lashes.’

Neshi stepped up to the woman and confronted her. ‘Confess!’ he snapped. ‘You know what you said and did, you and me both! Make it easier on yourself.’

It was astonishing how obdurate these Nubian slaves could be. While Mira marvelled at her stubborn will a niggling doubt persisted that Neshi might, after all, have invented this whole scenario for some gratification of his own. Still, it was too late to back out now.

‘Very well, the sentence must stand.’ She beckoned to Iras, who was also looking on nervously. ‘Fetch the Flail of Correction for Prince Neshi.’

Iras hurried off into the antechamber, eager to perform her mistress’s command in case she too should be found wanting. Mira resumed her seat on the couch, next to Charmian. Her work was done. Now she must hand over to her son. He lounged against a pillar with a satisfied look, his eyes unashamedly feasting on the sight of the humbled slave girl. Kiya stood perfectly still, gazing at the back wall with an impassive expression.

In a few seconds Iras returned with the implement. The Flail of Correction differed from that used for ceremonial purposes which was made of gold and elaborately decorated, being one of the Pharaoh’s badges of office. This flail was nearer to the practical kind used on some Egyptian threshing floors, to separate the wheat kernels from the husks. Five leather thongs hung from a stout wooden handle that was studded with precious gems and decorated with figures of Horus and Maat, Goddess of Justice. Although not made of gold, it was nevertheless a tool of exquisite workmanship and serviceable as well.

‘Hand the flail to the prince,’ Mira said. ‘Then strip the girl.’

Iras went up to Kiya and, with a slightly apologetic air, slipped the straps from her shoulders and rolled the garment down her body, revealing her plump nakedness. Neshi stood a few feet away, his gaze transfixed by the sight of those protruding breasts, oiled and polished like ebony, the dark nipples hardening upon exposure to the air. Beneath her slim waist and jewelled navel, the shaven mound and swollen lips of her sex were clearly visible.

He is truly a man now, Mira thought, seeing the flush rise in his cheeks. Beneath his tunic she knew his organ must be hardening with desire for the girl. Had this been the cause of all the trouble? Had he perhaps been the instigator of some sex play that Kiya, mindful of her duty, had gently rebuffed? The thought was disturbing, but there could be no going back now. Besides, this would be an object lesson to Charmian.

‘Iras, move that stool into the centre of the room,’ the queen commanded, pointing to a low cross-legged stool with a curved seat and jackal heads at the four corners. ‘Now, Kiya, you must bend over that stool so you are ready to receive your punishment.’

The slave girl walked slowly to her doom, and then knelt before the stool. She put her hands on the other side, her breasts squashing up like huge brown pillows as they rested on the seat.

‘No, that will not do,’ Mira called, rising. ‘You must let your bosom fall over the other side of the stool, so your stomach is on the seat.’ That way, she noted with satisfaction as the girl obeyed her instructions, her fat rump would be higher in the air and easier to whip. She looked at her son; his eyes were gleaming with anticipation as he clenched his fist around the wooden handle. Charmian’s fingers were at her mouth in a childlike gesture of apprehension, but Iras stood to one side now, watching impassively.

Mira walked all around the girl to check that she was well positioned. The bell-like breasts swung free now, their dark nipples still erect, and her fat bottom raised provocatively in the air. She looked ridiculous, like a stranded animal, and Mira wanted to increase her humiliation by letting her know it. So she asked Iras to fetch the long mirror and held it in front of the unfortunate concubine.

‘Look, Kiya, see what your slander has reduced you to. You shall be beaten like a donkey for your transgression.’ She looked up at Neshi, hovering nearby. ‘Get ready to strike the first blow, my son. Remember that you strike each blow for the honour of your family, the royal house of Seti. Do not spare this whore, for she has deeply sinned.’

There was a tense atmosphere in the room as Neshi gripped his flail and strode forward, positioning himself directly behind the prostrate girl. The full cheeks of her posterior offered an ample target and Mira saw his eyes glitter with appetite for the task ahead. Perhaps he would have preferred, given the chance, to plunge his fleshy sword between those buttocks and probe the inner chamber, riding her with increasing frenzy until he gained his own sweet satisfaction. The Pharaoh’s concubines were out of bounds, however, and her son must be content with expressing his pent-up desire in the form of wrath, rather than lust.

How like his father he must feel now, administering justice to a slave. Pride surged in the queen’s heart as she watched him raise the flail in his right hand, his feet firmly planted and his handsome head erect on broad shoulders. What a magnificent Pharaoh he would make some day.

Charmian sat transfixed by the sight before her. Only once had she witnessed a flogging, when she first arrived in this alien land, and the prospect of witnessing another woman’s pain and humiliation was terrifying. She gazed at the victim, bent over the stool in that ignominious way, and her heart went out to her.

Yet she was fascinated, too, by the woman’s smooth brown buttocks and the dark divide between them. Her body looked as if it were fashioned from polished wood or bronze rather than flesh and skin. She had short black hair that was oiled and curled, her voluptuous breasts bore nipples that were almost black in colour, and her lips were a dark crimson while her tongue was red, making Charmian wonder about the other hidden parts of her body.

While Kiya seemed to be offering herself up for sacrifice, like a trussed animal, Prince Neshi grew in stature as he took up his position to her rear. Charmian wondered at the way in which he had been apparently transformed from a boy into a man, once he had been given command of the flail. Was there something magical in that implement, something that conferred supreme power upon its bearer? Charmian gave a barely audible sigh. There was so much still to learn about the people of this strange land and their customs.