Asenath (2 page)

My father appeared beside me. In the dim light, I could see the outline of his bony profile as he knelt by my side.

"What's that noise, Papa?"

He put his arms around me and before he could answer, a chilling scream sliced through the air. Other screams followed. Soon, the air was filled with a frightening cacophony―screams, cries and more shouts in that strange language.

Papa's grip on me tightened. "Come, Kiya. We must hide you."

The door of our hut flew open.

Two enormous, fearsome-looking warriors towered like the tallest trees. Their faces were thickly painted in bright, garish colours. They wore loincloths made of animal skin and peculiar pointed headdresses that emphasised their unusual height. In their hands were spears that glinted threateningly.

Mama screamed.

One of the warriors shouted something, while waving toward us. Another dashed forward and snatched me out of Papa's protective hold.

"Papa!"

The monster hauled me outside.

I kicked and flailed. "Papa!"

"Kiya!" Papa hurried after me.

Alas, though he was strong and agile, he was no match for these giants. They ran with such enormous strides that in no time he was out of sight.

"Papa?" I writhed about in the warrior's iron grip. "Papa!"

I felt a blow to the back of my head and the world turned black.

Cold water slapped my face. When I opened my eyes, I was staring into the massive painted face of my captor.

"Get up," he snarled. His breath was fouler than rotten fish.

I struggled to my feet. Though I was still in a daze, I dared not disobey.

The warrior grabbed my arm and led me through pitch-black darkness. I was certain he was going to kill me. My chest tightened with fear.

He led me out into a brightly lit clearing. It looked like we were in the midst of a dense jungle. A campfire crackled at the centre where the warrior's comrades sat feasting and talking.

Relief washed over me when I noticed my fellow villagers huddled together at the far end. Menah was with them.

I smiled. "Menah!"

The warrior slapped me hard across the face. "You are not to speak. If you do so again, we will kill you."

I shuddered, though I was less frightened than before now that I knew I was not alone.

The warrior dragged me over to the villagers and shoved me amongst them.

"Stay with them. No talking and no trying to escape." He glared at us, then went to the fire to join the others.

Menah took my hand.

"Where are my parents?" I asked in a bare whisper.

He looked at me sadly and shook his head.

I knew what that meant. They were not there.

I suddenly threw up.

In a flash, the warrior was before us. "What's going on here?"

No one answered.

"She felt sick and vomited," our village mother Mekten said finally.

The warrior turned to his comrades and said something in their language. They laughed boisterously. He shook his head and returned to them.

Tears spilled from my eyes. Menah held me and rocked me, comforting me. I sobbed for a long time, eventually crying myself to sleep.

What followed was an arduous journey through the jungle. The scorching sun was merciless and mosquitoes bit my arms, legs and face. The entire time, our captors threatened to murder us and I might have actually died with despair had it not been for the familiar faces around me.

I do not know how far we travelled, but just as I thought we would perish, one of the warriors announced we had reached our destination.

It was early evening. We were led toward a tribal encampment illuminated by a towering bonfire. Drumbeats pounded in my ears as we drew nearer. When we entered the camp, I saw tents made of dyed animal hides, as well as poles topped with the decapitated heads of people and animals. I averted my eyes, trying to erase the horrific images from my head.

The drums were deafening as the tribes people surrounded us. Like our captors, they were wrapped in animal skins. Their bodies were pierced in just about every part and painted in bright colours. I shuddered when a small child with painted teeth and a pierced nose came over and poked at my face.

My fellow villagers and I were lined up in front of the bonfire. I thought for sure they would murder us. I whimpered as one of the warriors strode up to us. I recognised him. He had entered my family's hut.

The warrior paced the length of our row. "Do you know why you are all here?"

No one answered.

He glared at us. "Many years ago, your Pharaoh murdered our chieftain. I am that chieftain's son and will now avenge my father's death. Until your king makes amends, we will continue to destroy your wretched country. If he does not, we will fight until Egypt is no more."

As he reached me, he stopped pacing and smiled, revealing crooked yellow teeth. "What is your name, little girl?" His voice was gentle.

"K-Kiya," I squeaked.

"What a beautiful girl you are. Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?"

I did not answer.

"How old are you?"

"Nine."

"Ah. Perfect." His hideous grin widened. "You will be my slave, Kiya. And when your red moon comes, you will become my bride."

I stared at him, too horrified to speak.

He stepped forward. "That flower around your neck goes very well with your lovely face." He fingered the lotus pendant and I pulled back.

"Where are my parents?" I blurted.

"We left them behind, little one. We have no use for them." He laughed cruelly.

My fear was replaced by rage. "I want my parents. Bring me back to my parents."

One of the warriors rushed toward me, but the chieftain held up his hand. He stared into space for a moment. "Very well. If you work hard, I will send for your parents by the time you and I are ready to marry."

My anger began to abate. "You mean that?" I looked into his dark eyes, which were surrounded by a strange painted pattern of dots.

"Yes. So what do you say, little Kiya? Are you going to work hard?"

I hated that he called me "little Kiya." It sounded like he was trying to replace Papa. But I knew that if I wanted to see my parents again, I had to be obedient and silent.

I nodded.

"Good," he said, turning away.

"What is a red moon?" I asked.

Some of my fellow villagers stared at me, aghast, while the tribespeople roared with laughter.

The chieftain approached Mekten. "Be Kiya's advisor and explain to her what a red moon is. I am sure you know full well." He winked at her.

I felt sick at that gesture, even though I did not understand what it meant.

Mekten nodded in submission.

The chieftain waved his arm, inviting his people to pick slaves from among us.

A tall, thin woman with large bone earrings and a cold expression led Mekten and I to the chieftain's large tent. When we stepped inside, I nearly screamed. The place was festooned with more disembodied animal heads, as well as enormous wooden masks with frightening expressions. The dim light from torches cast shadows on the eerie things, making them look almost alive.

The tribeswoman pointed to a dirty mat at the far end of the tent. "You will sleep there. Go now." Mekten and I headed for the mat, but the tribeswoman grabbed Mekten's arm. "Not you. You will stay here."

I stared at them, confused, and the woman glared at me. "Go!"

I hurried over to the mat as the tribeswoman extinguished the torch, plunging the tent into complete darkness.

All was silent. Then the tent's flap rose, revealing the bulky profile of the chieftain. He shuffled inside and the flap swung closed.

Not long after, I heard Mekten crying out in fear and pain. Heavy breathing followed. The louder Mekten screamed, the heavier the breathing grew.

Though I had no idea what was happening, I knew I was hearing something bad. I covered my ears, but it was no use. Similar screams rose from the neighbouring tents. I slept amongst nightmares, waking at times to the sound of terrified cries and heartbreaking sobbing.

The following morning, Mekten acted scared of everything and everyone, which wasn't like her. I wanted to make her feel better, but I didn't know how. Even the most trivial things I did frightened her. Throughout the day, I kept a distance from her. But at times, I tried to reach out to her. She was, after all, one of our dearest family friends.

"Mekten," I said in a timid voice. "What is a red moon?"

Mekten looked at me with sad eyes. Finally, she took a deep breath and explained everything in a shaky voice before breaking down.

CHAPTER TWO

For the next months, I woke up each day to a fresh new dread, which remained with me until the time I went to sleep. Even in my dreams, I was given no respite. Sometimes, I woke up in the middle of the night, worrying if we would ever be rescued and if I would ever see my parents again.

Then one morning, at a most unexpected moment, my red moon dawned. Though Mekten had already told me all I needed to know, nothing could have prepared me for a pain so terrible that I could barely stand.

When Mekten saw me hunched on the mat, she immediately flew to my aid. I was more than grateful as I desperately needed help. She gave me soothing herbs, then eased me into a foetal position, which improved my condition remarkably.

As I knelt on the ground, she whispered to me, "Kiya, I'm pregnant."

I gasped. "How?" Though Mekten had already told me the mysteries of womanhood, there was still so much I didn't know.

"Ah...it's a long story."

"Will you be all right?"

"I hope so. I mean...yes, I will." She gave me a clearly forced smile.

"If you need any help, you can always come to me."

"Thank you, Kiya. I'd better go. I'll cover your chores for you."

After she stepped out of the tent, I held the lapis lazuli lotus pendant close to my chest, thinking about Mama and Papa. In the rare, blessed silence of the tent, I tried to send messages to them, telling them that we would all be together again soon.

A week later, I was lost in a dreamless sleep when I heard a faint rumbling, like distant thunder. I paid it no attention, even as the rumbling continued.

Then I opened my eyes to the tent's heavy darkness and realised that the rumbling had become nearly deafening.

I sat up. This was so much like the day we were captured. Whatever it was, whatever would happen, it could only be worse.

Without warning, the tent's entrance flap was ripped apart and the breaking dawn light revealed three tall soldiers dressed in bronze breastplates and leather kilts. I screamed as they brandished their swords. One of the soldiers charged toward Mekten and I, while the other two headed for our masters.

"Don't be afraid," the soldier said. "We're here to save you. We're Pharaoh's army. Come!"

Immediately, Mekten and I leapt to our feet and hurried outside without looking back. I saw that the camp was already in the throes of battle. Cries rang out as the horses and chariots of the Egyptian army swept throughout the camp. Groups of soldiers tore down the tribespeople's tents. Weapons clashed and blood spilled everywhere.

Not far from me, one of Pharaoh's soldiers beheaded a tribal warrior. Blood sprayed all over me and the head rolled at my feet. I stopped in my steps, shocked.

"Come on, little girl!" my rescuer cried. He grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the encampment.

Mekten and I were led to a safe distance, where a makeshift barricade of wagons and chariots had been set up. I saw that a number of our fellow villagers were already gathered there, guarded by more Egyptian soldiers.

"Kiya!" Menah suddenly appeared and darted toward me.

I screamed with joy this time and held out my arms to my beloved best friend. Our masters had kept us apart the entire time. The only one of my people I could speak to was Mekten, as I worked with her.

But now, Menah and I swept each other up in a fierce embrace. Then some of the adults came to us and hugged us both. Soon, we were all embracing each other. Some of us laughed, some cried with relief.

We must have made such a sorry sight, with our ragged clothes, soiled and bruised faces and stringy hair. But we did not care. Even the soldiers at the barricade watched us with smiles.

In no time, Pharaoh's army emerged victorious and we received them with clamorous cheers. Those of the tribespeople who had not been killed were rounded up to be made slaves in Egypt. As for the chieftain, I heard he and his entire family had been murdered. I shed no tears for them.

The much longed-for journey home started out happy, needless to say. The soldiers sang victory songs and invited us to join in.

However, one day Mekten whispered to me to go fetch the doctor. She was bleeding, she said. He came to her at once and our journey was brought to a halt.

I tried to comfort my friend, but my efforts seemed to be in vain. Her face was twisted in pain and she was taking deep, ragged breaths.

"Mekten," I whispered, as she let out a groan that brought tears to my eyes. I took her hand. "Mekten, it's all right."

"Kiya," the physician suddenly said. "She's bleeding very badly. Go get some linen."

I gathered as much as I could. But soon, the pile of bloodied cloths rose high at the side and Mekten's mat had become a deep crimson red.

I took her hand once more and leaned my face close to hers. "Mekten, I am so sorry. I am trying to do everything I can."

"Thank you for your kindness, Kiya." Her voice was hoarse, as she struggled to get the words out. "Thank you."

Then, her hand went limp and her head rolled back, looking up at me with a hollow, vacant expression.

I threw my head back and let out a loud wail. Soon, the rest of my fellow villagers gathered to me, joining me in my mourning.

The soldiers were kind enough to allow us a solid day of grieving. When we were ready to move again, the adults wrapped Mekten's body in linen and placed her aboard one of the wagons. We would be taking her back with us to the village to bury her there. It was the least we could do for our beloved Village Mother, after all she had done for us.