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Up ahead laid the impressive palace of the pharaoh and his family. Inside, servants bustled themselves to their limits. The Chamber of the Gods was thoroughly cleaned of any windblown sand and other grime that might have collected. The priests busied themselves, organizing their preparations for the royal children’s daily teachings. Yet, amid all the daybreak clutter, the Pharaoh and his royal wife were out for their usual stroll in the land.
“Look at them,” the Queen pointed out to her beloved husband. “Watch the kingdom awake. See how the sun transforms it. All are asleep at home, embraced in the arms of their sweethearts. However, once the sun has risen, men are in the pastures while women stay at home, tending to their little ones.”
The Pharaoh nodded, signifying his agreement.
“Yes.” He said, turning to his wife. His mouth tipped into a tiny smile. “Hard to believe our son shall rule these very lands in a mere sum of time.”
“Yes, it is.” the Queen chortled to herself, her mind lost in the reminiscences of the past. “It seems that only the last moon, Khaemwaset couldn’t even remain on his feet for more than a moment. And now look at him.”
“You’ve nurtured him well, Haréré.” the Pharaoh praised, staring back at the lands he shrewdly governed. “He shall make a sensible Pharaoh.”
“And his sisters magnificent wives.” Queen Haréré added.
The Pharaoh turned to his wife, his smile wide.
“Yes, I have not a doubt they will.” He said, pulling Queen Haréré towards him. “How time flies.”
“Like papyrus in the wind.” she agreed, leaning in for a kiss.
“Your Majesty, if I could so kindly interrupt your personal moment with your wife.”
The Pharaoh mutely groaned. But of course, he was the Pharaoh. Duties came first.
“Is anything worth worrying about, Urshé?” he questioned, not taking the trouble to hide his exasperation.
The royal advisor bowedto his almighty ruler before turning to the Queen.
“I hope you receive my apology with cordial forgiveness.” Urshé said with a low and impressive bow. “But it is urgent that the Pharaoh returns to the palace.”
“What is this all about Urshé?” the Pharaoh asked once more.
“Yes, well, the delegates from the Sinai Valley have come to discuss exchange among our lands.”
“Right!” The Pharaoh’s eyes squeezed shut with frustration. Why hadn’t he remembered before? “Haréré, my dearest wife, please pardon me for leaving you in such a dreadful place and time.”
Queen Haréré’s smile gleamed with mercy and she patted her husband’s face lovingly.
“Don’t concern yourself with a simple person as me. Deal with the delegates and we can make plans for another walk in the coming future.”
The Pharaoh grinned and with a last kiss, returned to the palace with his royal advisor.
Queen Haréré sighed, wrapping her arms around her as if she were bathed with sudden chill. Slowly, but steadily, her time alone with her devoted husband was ceasing. When they had once been full of youth and passion, oh yes, they then had all the time in the world. But now? Another sigh leaked from her lips. No, with things drastically changing, the Pharaoh would soon find himself hectic with his royal obligations and no time for his family. And that mysterious rash of his wasn’t improving the dilemma any. For a while now, the Pharaoh’s chest bore a strange and unexplainable rash. It was small at first, the size of a bean, but now it had grown rapidly to the size of acat. Queen Haréré could only praythat the goddess Neith was with her husband.
Elated screams echoed from the Nile shore. Queen Haréré turned and watched a mother, father, and their children fool about in the quiet currents in the Nile. A shooting pain of jealously struck at her stomach. How she wished her life could be alike to that of the peasant woman.
“Most dominant and unsurpassed Hathor,” she wordlessly prayed. “Assist thy and thy dearly loved Pharaoh in what’s left in thy crumpling relationship. Thou take thy hands of influence and carry back what thou hast once given to us in thy lives. Contentment and harmony. Find thy missing piece and return it to thou’s demanding lives. With evermore delight and serenity with thy gods, this thy pray.”
Khaemwaset rested eye to eye with the foe. Reaching warily for the reed sack, he bent into poise, prepared for the strike.
“Come on now,” he faintly muttered, his eyes never parting from his vile opponent.
At long last, the Prince’s rival attacked! With one, long swoop, the prince was victorious, and the enemy in the bag.
Strolling into the playroom, Khaemwaset found two of his younger sisters engaged in play. Motioning to his youngest, Sheriti, Khaem waited with patience as her pair of chubby feet waddled over.
“Did you catch it,” the four-year-old squealed, her eyes misted with anxious tears. “Did you catch that mean and nasty spider?”
“I sure did.” Khaem lifted the sack. “Would you like to come and see him? He’s just a harmless tarantula.”
Sheriti shook her head timidly. But her older sister, Paniwi, of three years laughed and said, “Go on Sher. It shan’t hurt you.”
Sheriti, nevertheless her sister’s words, was still uneasy with the spider that dwelled within the sack. But she didn’t want to be later on deemed as a baby, so, collecting all the courage she possessed, and peeked inside the waiting sack.
“Go ahead and touch it.” Khaem encouraged.
With slothful moments, the little girl skimmed her little arm into the sack and giggled.
“It’s hairy!” she sniggered. Khaem and Paniwi shared a glance, both silently amused with their youngest sibling.
Paniwi could only continue to watch as Khaem crouched next to Sheriti. She may have been seven, but that was enough to know of her eldest brother’s handsomeness. With eyes the color of wet sand, they seemed to fit right in with his well-developed, bronzed body. His raven-black hair dangled vulnerably in front of his eyes, and his nose rested long and narrow. To finish this painting of sheer beauty, a small dimple laid close by his garnet–colored lips. He was rather tall for an age of ten and nine, but Paniwi supposed that lofty height was all right when it came to men. Paniwi smiled. He and Nafretiri would undoubtedly make a good match, if the rumors about the palace were true that is. Nafretiri, her cousin, was a beauty all of herself, making her the most sought after and desirable woman.
The children jerked with surprise as fuming shouts gushed from the royal court. Curious, Khaem, along with his sisters, crept over to the opening to watch.
“Must I be overlooked several times!” the Pharaoh roared, waving his scepter through the air. “I said no! How many times does one need to here that!?”
Khaem could only gape at the lone man standing in the center. Bearing robes of abundant colors, not only was the man rather tall, but also fairly menacing. His lengthy, black hair rested at his waist with a beard about the same length, full of whites and grays and blacks. In his hand was a staff, alavender ball attached to the top.
“I vow upon the god Horus,” the man bellowed for all to hear. “Either permit me a night’s rest and a share of your impressive lands, or you and your household shall be cursed evermore!”
The man beckoned at the word “curse” with his rod and the members of the court mumbled with wonder and apprehension. Khaem could only watch, mesmerized with the scene rolling out in front of him. He prayed his father would make a sensible choice to this idiotic man’s words.
After a long period of silence, the Pharaoh spoke.
“What evidence of such, should we believe?” he asked, his voice rimed with bitter coldness.
“My words, only my words.”
Then the Pharaoh made his mistake. He laughed. Laughing as if it were some witty joke and inviting all to join in.
There were some chuckles here and there throughout the crowd, but for the most part, Khaem noted that most stood silent.
“I warned you!” the livid man bellowed, his face as red as the crimson he wore. “I warned you and now you shall face the consequences! Listen closely my Majesty.”
“In four a thousandth, five a hundredth, two a tenth, and eight a one shall thy wake in a bullion box. From thence on, thou shall travel the land, lost with barely an ally but one. One who can and only break thou curse. But thou must discover respect and in return, respect for thy. Only the joining of the worlds can bring thy home where thou belongs. Once this firstlytakes place, thy entire family shall endure dire luck for the rest of thy dynasties! ”
Khaem froze, his heart pumping horror through his veins, for the man had been staring at him. He was used to stares, but this one had been additionally hostile and spiteful.
Khaem turned and ran. He could still feel the man’s gaze lie upon his back, could still feel the ice and chill released from it. It was something he had never felt before … and never wanted to feel again.
Once in his bedchambers, Khaem crumpled onto his bed. What had the bizarre man meant by his curse or what he had claimed to be a curse?
Sitting up, Khaem grasped at his head, surprised to sense a faint buzzing. Perhaps he had spent too much time out in the sun today. Yes, that’s probably what it was.
However, ten minutes later, the buzzing had yet to stop. If truth were told, it had grown louder, aggravating Khaem by the minute.
Khaem decided it was from lack of water and stood up to retrieve some. It was surely a bad mistake for the buzzing grew deafening and all objects distorted before his eyes.
Khaem screamed as pain rippled through his body. The blurred objects expanded into each other, making Khaem’s world a sight of black.
With one final scream, Khaem fell to the floor, his body wrapped in a blanket of unconsciousness, not knowing that he would soon be presumed dead and his body prepared for burial. Not knowing that his organs would still stay remained intact thanks to the evil sorcerer. Not knowing what his future and the gods held in front of him.
Bye! :o)