Flail of the Pharoah (5 page)

Soon Charmian was standing in the doorway, shy and slightly fearful. Mira put on her most unctuous smile. It was essential that the girl should believe the Queen of Egypt had her best interests at heart.

‘Come, my dear, and let me have a good look at you,’ she said, beckoning. The slave who had accompanied her slipped away.

Charmian moved forward on her little feet; she was a graceful mover, Mira was forced to admit to herself. Envy seized her as she surveyed the perfect young form beneath the diaphanous gown. Once she had been as lithe herself, before childbirth had stretched and padded her flesh. She was still proud of her figure and the way she had kept it in good trim for a woman of her age, but she could never compete with a virgin girl.

Virgin… that was what she now needed to ascertain. How much of a virgin was she? Not just physically – her intact state could be taken for granted as no one would be such a fool to present King Seti with second-hand goods, of any description. But what of her mind? The spectre of that foolish Greek girl came back to haunt her; she should have made sure the girl was better prepared before the Pharaoh took her to bed.

Charmian might pose a similar challenge. She came from a barbaric country, where their ways would be less civilised. Had she been allowed to eavesdrop on men’s talk? Had the women gossiped imprudently? Had she even witnessed some lascivious deeds? Did she know far more about relations between the sexes than the Pharaoh would consider proper? One reason why he had a particular taste for foreign girls was that they tended to be more innocent than the home-grown variety. Yet he still expected them to enjoy love-play, to be sensual and quickly aroused and not to turn frigid with fright when he tried to penetrate them. Getting the balance right was always a difficult task.

Mira patted the place beside her on the couch. ‘Tell me a little about yourself, Charmian. First, your age.’

Hesitantly, the girl deposited her tender buttocks on the down-stuffed cushion. ‘I… am sixteen summers, your majesty.’

‘Sixteen? You look younger. And of what rank was your family in the place where you were born?’

‘I was high born. But in my land…’

‘I thought so.’ Mira reflected. She had a delicate air, a refinement that few other slaves possessed. No wonder that wily slaver, Ephiras, had secured himself a good price for her from the Hittite king. Another wily old goat! No doubt his man had been asked to find a superb female specimen to offer as tribute to the Pharaoh. There had been some fresh border skirmishes lately and he wanted to keep King Seti sweet.

‘Tell me more about your homeland, Charmian.’

‘It is very dark in winter, and the days are just a few hours of gloomy light. But the sun shines all the time in summer.’ Her face lit up. ‘It is so wonderful to see the sun again, here in Egypt!’

‘Yes, the sun is very special to us. He is the face of god, and the Pharaoh is his divine representative on earth, the Sun-King. You are very privileged to be allowed to serve him, my dear. And you want to serve him well, don’t you?’

‘Oh yes!’ the girl cried, clapping her hands together enthusiastically. But there was wariness in her clear blue eyes.

Mira decided to change tack. ‘First, we must have a little chat about the birds and the bees. Do you understand my meaning?’ Charmian shook her head, a troubled frown marring the perfect plane of her brow. ‘Well then, suppose we have one little ladybird and another little gentleman bird. What happens next?’

‘They… build a nest?’

‘Yes, and then what?’

‘Some eggs appear.’

This was an unfruitful line of enquiry. Mira said, ‘That’s right, and the little chicks hatch. We had two creatures, and then we have more. The same is true for a human couple, is it not? First a man and a woman, then children appear. Do you know how babies are made, Charmian?’

The girl brightened, repeating as if by rote, ‘A man lies with a woman and then she becomes with child.’

‘But do you know what “lies with a woman” actually means?’

‘The woman lies down and then the man lies down beside her,’ Charmian said, a slight note of indignation in her tone as if she were being asked to repeat some babyish catechism.

Mira smiled. The girl was a complete innocent, to be moulded however she wished. What a gift!

‘Have you ever seen a man’s naked body?’ she asked, and Charmian nodded, a faint but distinct flush entering her alabaster cheeks. ‘Then you know about his member, his tool, his big thing.’ Mira spread her thighs and placed one fist upon another between them, to represent a phallus.

‘Yes, I have… seen.’

Mira forced herself to put an arm around the girl’s shoulder, drawing her close. In a conspiratorial tone she murmured, ‘Well, it is a woman’s task to attend to a man’s while she lies beside him, to nurture and play with it like a toy. Do you understand me?’

‘I think so, your majesty.’

‘Please, call me Queen Mira. The reason you must stroke and caress the man’s organ is to make it rise up, like a snake, and stay rigid, like a rod.’

‘Like a snake, then a rod,’ Charmian repeated slowly. ‘Yes, I see.’

‘It is a remarkable implement because it is a kind of seed pod.’

‘A snake, a rod and a seed pod,’ the girl said, but it was obvious to Mira that she understood little of the lesson. Perhaps a more practical demonstration was called for. She rose and went over to her bed, which lay behind a screen. Under her pillow she kept an array of dildos and, after some deliberation, she selected a pliable example made of tightly woven reeds covered in smooth cloth.

Mira returned to where Charmian was waiting patiently, head bowed, hands clasped in her lap. Her loose hair fell like a cloak of spun gold, parting to reveal the creamy smooth nape of her neck. But the aura of childlike innocence that surrounded her was starting to irritate the queen and she felt a dull anger in her breast, like smouldering coals that could either be damped down or stoked to produce a fiery blaze. She decided to put a damper on her resentment of the girl – for the time being.

‘Look, Charmian, this is about the size of a man’s thing when erect,’ she said, in a matter-of-fact tone, handing over the dildo. Charmian took it and examined it closely. ‘It is quite long and thick, you see, but not usually so large that you cannot put your thumb and finger around it, so.’

She joined the tips of her thumb and forefinger to make a circle and slipped it over the dildo. Charmian nodded, her expressions as serious as if she were receiving a solemn lesson in some arcane art, which in a sense she was.

‘Hold it like that, show me.’

Charmian made an ‘O’ of her slender fingers and slipped it over the reed-filled cloth. She looked up at Mira and gave a smile so open and trusting, so delighted at holding this strange object in the way she had been shown, that the queen felt suddenly guilty.

‘Here, let me oil it.’ She took some of the precious scented oil from a nearby jar and smeared the cloth with it, in just the same way as when she made use of it for her own arousal. ‘You may slide your fingers more easily up and down it now.’

Charmian giggled a little as she proceeded to caress the slippery cloth. ‘It feels… strange.’

‘A man’s aroused
penis
– that is the correct word, or one of them – is warm to the touch, and firm-fleshed. It is smoother than the cloth, although you can feel the veins in it, like ribs. At the top it has a special flap of skin called the
foreskin
but the Pharaoh has had his removed.’

‘Why?’

‘It is our custom. What you are stroking there is the stem of the penis, called the
shaft
, but there is also a round tip called the
glans
with a slit in it. From there spills the milky liquid containing the seed of the man. In the case of King Seti it is very precious because it is the royal seed. From this, a royal prince has already been produced.’

‘A prince grows from a
seed
, like a plant?’ Charmian gasped with amazement and Mira couldn’t help laughing at her ingenuousness.

‘In a manner of speaking, yes. But you, my dear, must learn how to pleasure the Pharaoh in many ways. This is only one of them, the gentle stroking of his organ that will help it to remain stiff and strong.’

‘Why must it stay like that?’

Queen Mira hesitated, and then decided that the girl had received enough of a lesson for one day. She had no wish to overwhelm her with too much new and disturbing information all at once. It would not do to frighten the girl off the prospect of lying with the Pharaoh altogether.

‘Never mind. That is enough for today. Instead, my girl shall make up your eyes in the Egyptian fashion. The Pharaoh will expect to see you so adorned when he eventually calls you to his bed.’

Mira gave two sharp claps and Iras soon appeared from the wings, bowing low. ‘Your majesty?’

‘This is Charmian, the
new girl
.’ She gave the last two words a slight inflexion, one that Iras would recognise as expressing a degree of scorn. ‘Apply kohl to her eyes, make her look like an Egyptian…’ she had been about to say ‘whore’ but left the word unspoken. Even if Charmian did not know the word now she might remember it, and learn its meaning later. She did not want the girl to have anything to reproach her with.

‘Yes, mistress. And some blue powder too, to match her beautiful eyes?’

‘Of course.’ Again, only Iras would notice the faint frostiness in her tone. ‘And summon the musicians. We may as well have some entertainment while you work.’

Three musicians appeared, two playing stringed instruments and one a gentle flute. They began to warble away in a corner, making a sound that Mira secretly found irksome, but she wanted to observe Charmian in every detail and she thought the music might distract her from noticing the close scrutiny she was under.

Iras had applied the blue powder to the girl’s lids, and already Mira noticed with some satisfaction that she looked like a cheap, painted tart. The local pigments were too strong for a girl of Charmian’s delicate colouring. They looked fine on sun-darkened skin, the pink ochre lending a rosy glow to brown cheeks or lips, and the blue lapis softening the harsh effect of the kohl outlining brown or amber eyes. She watched with private pleasure as Iras painted her features with the fine brushes, the effect growing ever more vulgar and clownish despite her best efforts.

‘Marvellous!’ she declared at last, bringing her polished mirror to show Charmian the results of Iras’ labours. The girl winced when she saw the image of her garish eyes and lips, the eyes so heavily delineated and the cheeks so bright and red that she resembled a wooden doll more than a human being.

‘Is this how I should appear before the Pharaoh?’ Charmian enquired meekly.

‘Yes, indeed. He will love the way you look.’

‘Are you quite sure, your highness?’ Iras ventured. She hardly ever presumed to speak without being spoken to, and Mira was shocked.

‘Who are you to question my judgement?’

Iras looked mortified and bowed low, muttering, ‘No one, your majesty, no one at all.’ But Charmian just looked puzzled and the queen feared she might have gone too far.

‘Egyptian women like to paint their faces,’ she said in a soothing tone. ‘It will take a while for you to get used to seeing yourself as an Egyptian, Charmian, but one of these days you will wake in the morning and realise that a wonderful transformation has taken place. You will have become one of us!’

Just then someone came rushing into the queen’s chamber: it was the crown prince, her son. She frowned at him. ‘Neshi! How many times have I told you to knock before entering my chambers?’

He stopped, abashed, his eyes widening as he spied Charmian and Iras. ‘My apologies, mother, I thought you were alone.’

‘Alone or not, you should knock first. Now, what was it you wanted to see me about?’

The young man’s expression was inflamed with indignation. ‘You know you said I should tell you if anyone behaved disrespectfully towards me?’

‘Yes. Has someone offended you? You may speak freely.’

‘It’s that plump girl, Kiya, the one who shared father’s bed last night. She has insulted me.’

Mira felt an instant rush of anger. How dare that Nubian slut act disrespectfully towards her son! Did she think that being chosen by Seti conferred special licence upon her? Did she dream of becoming the king’s favourite? Such presumption must be curbed immediately.

‘What did she say?’

‘She called me a…’ Neshi murmured the Egyptian word for a gelded pig. ‘Then she said… oh, I cannot repeat it. It is too dreadful!’

‘You must tell me,’ Mira urged, feeling quite excited at the idea of that creature Kiya being punished for her slander.

Neshi was shamefaced and he spoke so softly that Mira could only hear him by straining her ears. ‘She said I was no true son of the Pharaoh but that you, my mother, had tricked him and lain with another man. She said it might be Tut-Tut who had fathered me, before he made the ultimate sacrifice.’

‘Tut-Tut?’ Mira gave a scornful laugh despite herself. The very idea that she might have given herself to that fat priest before he was gelded was ludicrous. Her wrath rose and she clenched her fists. ‘The bitch must be punished!’