Princess, Crown Not Included

Chanting through the morning prayers, all seven girls found themselves wishing away the minutes till the end of rituals- even Femii sighed in annoyance as Shaada added suffix after pious suffix to the requests for the health of the people. Finally, though, even he had to conclude rituals, and the girls rose from their positions with a haste that made Karim frown self-righteously. After a few moments of muttering, Zahra pulled away from the rest of the girls and tapped Seto on the shoulder, distracting him from a conversation with Mahaado.

"What is it, Zahra?" The tall girl put on an exaggeratedly hurt expression.

"Why do you automatically assume we want something?" she asked innocently. Seto rolled his cinnamon eyes.

"I can't remember the last time Kesi wore kohl, you must be up to something," the priest replied cynically. Ariam and Chione glared at the sheepish Kesi accusingly. "Are you going to tell me or do I have to threaten you all?"

"We-e-ell..." Zahra began carefully, not wanting to give the game away- if Seto found out what they were really up to, she highly doubted they would get away with it. "We were just talking last night-" Seto snorted incredulously, "-and we thought, this messenger must be bored and lonely, so far away from his home and anyone he knows, so we were just thinking-"

"Yes, you can go and amuse him," the chocolate-haired man cut across with a sigh. Zahra blinked in surprise. Seto laughed at her reaction. "Please, you think I wouldn't see how much you want to interrogate him? Be my guests, girls, on all accounts. Ra only knows we could do with a little more information."

"Thank you, master Seto," Zahra grinned, the other six echoing her in similar relief and excitement. Bowing to the priests, they turned and all but ran from the room.

"Astarte?" Zahra began as their running slowed to a walk. The green-eyed girl cocked her head in her direction. "I know that we five have never go on with you three, but after Dendera..." She paused for a second. "Now Dendera's gone, I think that we have started to... see more eye to eye?"

"What are you saying, Zahra?" Astarte asked, a glimmer of suspicion playing at the edges of her words. Zahra sighed.

"What I mean is... I know we argue. But, even just for today..." The brunette sighed. "For what may be the sake of all Egypt, can we try and get on?" She held out a hand. After eying it for a moment, Astarte took it.

"Who knows," she smiled. "Maybe it will last."

********

"It is a long time since I saw such beautiful girls around me," the dark-skinned newcomer smiled as the seven took seats around him, smiling sweetly. "I think perhaps you have want of something of me, no?"

"Of course not," Astarte replied, putting on a shocked expression.

"We simply thought you might be lonely, so far away from home," Neith added. Next to her, Chione nodded vehemently. The man's smile widened.

"So you thought to amuse me? Perhaps talk of my home, gain information?" he asked.

"Is that so wrong?" Ariam returned sweetly. "You must understand, sir-"

"Who is Sir?" the man asked, genuinely puzzled. "Ever since I have arrived, people call me Sir. Please, my beautiful ladies, I am named Djakare."

"Djakare, you must understand," Ariam continued as smoothly as if he had not spoken. "Since we came to the temple from our own towns, the closest we get to living outside is when we go to the market. It would mean so much to us to hear tales from another land." She offered another coy smile from under her eyelashes. Behind Djakare, Femii cast her a look that was half disapproving, half amusement. The Libyan sighed in defeat, his eyes twinkling.

"Then what choice have you left with me?" he asked, to a chorus of quiet cheers of glee. "But before all I must sample this food and drinks you have brought so kindly for me." Grinning in triumph, Zahra was only too happy to oblige him.

Two hours and three gold amphorae of wine later, the room was ringing with laughter and exclamations. Djakare's tales had gone down very well, especially the one concerning the behavior of their counterparts at the Libyan court at the feast day of one of their gods and a plate of cow's brains. None of them really understood the significance of the brains, or if there was any significance at all, but Djakare's delivery of the story had even pulled raucous giggles from Kesi.

"And of course, the lord Adeban was pleased with his brother's tale," Djakare continued, meandering off on yet another of his seemingly characteristic tangents as he took a deep drink from his cup, "as was the rest of court. But," he held up a finger to emphasize his point, waving it round so everyone could see it, "his wife, lady Hasina- you remember, she bought for herself a wheat field to prove her skills of business to her sister... Where was I?" he asked, his brows furrowing as the alcohol clouded his memory.

"Everyone in the court was pleased but Hasina," Neith supplied, refilling his glass. The drunker he was, the looser his tongue. He nodded, remembering.

"Yes... Hasina was in a mind that he was making fun on her. She grew incensed and demanded of her husband his brother ride the Mare of Steel for his slander." He shrugged and grabbed one of the cakes from the table in the middle of the room, nonchalant, but a worried look passed between the girls.

"The Mare of Steel?" Zahra repeated. Djakare nodded. "What's that?"

"You have not known of the Mare of Steel?" he asked, puzzled. They shook their heads. "It is a punishment common to my land... a long, steel blade, curving downwards like the tail of a horse. The rider is tied behind the back at the wrists and kneels astride at the top, and when the platform is pulled away..." He made a sliding gesture with his hand, accompanied by a rather distasteful sound effect. A collection of winces, hisses of sympathy and whispers of disgust filled the room. "At the bottom sits there a bed of spiked metal... It is not a pleasant death."

"That's horrific..." Astarte muttered.

"It is justice," he replied, swaying slightly as his eyes crossed. "Hasina is a woman of great power, she may do as she wishes." He shrugged again and set his cup down. Zahra cast a glance around the circle.

"Djakare?" she began. He turned to look at her, his eyes out of focus. "You must know... Why is your court visiting ours?"

"So you spoke a lie to me, you do wish information..." he sniggered. "Such beauty hides deception, the case always is... You shall see for your own, when my queen arrives..."

"The queen is coming?" Neith repeated, her tone echoing the disbelief in the minds of all of them. Djakare nodded.

"Yes, she comes, and her waiting ladies, and her daughter also, with her women..." Continuing with his list of the people arriving under his breath, he made a half-hearted grab for his wine, missed and shrugged half-heartedly, swaying.

"They are bringing women? Across the desert?" Ariam demanded. He nodded vaguely. "But why? Why would they risk that?"

"My beautiful ladies, I wish I knew, but I know as less as you. However," he added in a slur as one hand went to Zahra's shoulder, who pulled back a little. "If maybe one of you would talk a little more... privately with me... my memories may be stirred?" He grinned lecherously. Pushing his hand away firmly, Zahra stood up.

"Thank you, Djakare, but we must return to the temple... It is nearly dusk, after all," she told him, suppressing the disgust in her voice. Djakare nodded.

"Yes, you must... your gods will have anger in you..." he muttered, before promptly falling backwards on his divan. A moment later he began snoring. Shivering, Zahra was the first to leave the room, followed closely by the others, who were caught between mortified giggles and comforting her.

"Well, that was helpful," Chione commented sarcastically, one arm around Zahra's shoulder, who looked ready to throw up.

"It was, Chione," Femii replied, her voice as serious as her eyes. "Think about it... Why would they be bringing women across the desert for a visit of politics?"