Love and War: Short Story Collection

Queen of the Nile - Karmen Kramer

1.New Year’s eve, 3500 BC

“Wake up! It’s time!” He whisper-shouts at her. Doesn’t the Prince know that she only went to bed an hour ago? What is so urgent so close to morning?

“I’m up. Not that it matters that I didn’t sleep at all,” Mariama grumbles. He’s no different than the rest when he wants something, but she’s wise enough to keep that to herself. She hasn’t worked her ass off to die when she’s so close to her goal. To get vengeance at last.

“Mother kept you up all night again?” He whispers. He is careful around this part of the royal palace. The Prince would not want to be seen in the servant’s quarters.

“Her Royal Highness couldn’t sleep. She demanded a warm milk bath and honey dates. And she grumbled about your lack of commitment to Princess Neera,” Marima explains to him in a quiet voice. The walls are not thin, it’s just that they tend to have ears.

“Do this one last thing for me and I’ll buy you off. I’ll grant you freedom,” the Prince smiles at her. He does have a charming smile. Too bad, she’s immune to him.

“What about my revenge?” Mariama inquires. She worked her way from a kitchen rat to the Queens consort in the span of fifteen years. She is just biding her time and then she’ll suggest to the Queen that her uncle needs to die. In a war, preferably.

“I’ll send you there as my emissary. Rub it in his nose. Kill him yourself, for all I care,” he winks at her. “We can demand more slaves. Or taxes, food, whatever I want, basically.”

“Do you promise? You won’t come up with more excuses?” Mariama asks.

“Yes. I think you are ready to return home,” he nods. The smile on his face is sinister. He was planning her revenge with her since he found her practising with his bow one late afternoon. Mariama was ten years old and the Prince was sixteen. He trained her in all kinds of fighting techniques, so she became his personal assassin.

“Who?” Mariama wants to know. Will it be a challenge this time?

“Minister of treasury. He is spewing nonsense about funds. I know for sure he took quite a lot of gold for himself. Mother knows it too. But for as long as he has her favour, he can do what he wants,” the Prince sneers. She can feel his anger, but he never allows her to soothe him.

“Won’t the Pharaoh do anything?” She inquires.

“You and I both know my father only cares for the Amun-Ra festival and rituals. He can’t be bothered with such mundane things,” the Prince sighs. “Not this close to the festival. We can’t wait for that rat to clean out the treasury. The festival is the perfect time.”

“All right. Amun-Ra New Year’s festival is as good as any time to die,” Mariama smiles. That creepy old man is a thorn in her side. He seems to be one of the few in court who is not afraid of her. His dirty, sticky paws were on her skin numerous times, but he never got what is not his for taking.

The Prince leans closer to her to give her a kiss. He always does this slowly to give her time to pull back. Why? That is lost on her. Not like she can object. She is a slave and he is the crown Prince. Mariama pulls him on top of her to kiss him back. They have played this game since she was old enough to understand it. She gives him pleasure and he gives her promises. He reaches under the thin dress she wears for sleep. His fingers are cold, but his touch leaves fire on her skin. The Prince spreads her legs and guides his d**k to her entrance. He didn’t give her any time, but he never took her by force. Teasing her nether lips with the tip of his manhood, he slowly pushes inside. He drowns out her moans by kissing her hard.

She is on fire. His kisses are turning her on too much to be still, but such is the nature of their deal. The Prince wants her to be as still as possible, and quiet too. Mariama wants to break the rules so badly, her whole body hurts. One day she will. When she’s free. Deep down, she wants to love him. She wants to give him more than this passive acceptance. His fingers on her breast are stirring a fire in her loins, the kisses he gives her are a promise of something to come.

Mariama scrapes her nails over his back. She is careful about possible marks. Nothing can mar the perfection that is the crown Prince. But she knows he likes that. His shallow thrusts do nothing for her, but she knows he’s close. She knows he needs this. Princess Neera demands too much from him and does nothing. And she failed to give him an heir. Why he doesn’t get another wife is a mystery to her? Maybe just a highborn lover he could show off in court? She feels like his dirty little secret in more ways than one.

“I love you, my black rose,” the Prince whispers as he comes. “I’ll make you my queen when you’re free.”

“Have a nice day, my Prince,” Mariama responds. She never once told him that she loves him too. It would just make it real. There is no hope in her that he’ll ever keep his promises.

“I’ll get you to say it one day,” he chuckles, but leaves it at that. Leaves her.

Mariama goes to clean herself up. There is no use in trying to sleep. Some cold water should do the trick, and then she’ll just hope to get a nap somewhere in the busy day ahead. She has to prepare the Queen’s wardrobe and jewels for the festival, the bath for her royal grumpiness, manicure, pedicure and hair. Why Mariama has to do all this herself is lost on her. The Queen has a legion of servants at her disposal, but none would do. That means she probably won’t get a chance to eat anything at all. Lucky for her, she’s used to it.

She walks down the long hall in the violet dress that is designated for the Queen’s servants. Mariama holds her head high, her sandals making clicking noises on the tiles, her eyes never waiver from her imaginary goal. She knows all others scurry out of her way in fear. It’s not so much her position in court as is her dark chocolate skin tone and raven black hair.

The only one of her kind in the Royal palace. All other servants are Egyptians, but she came here from Ethiopia. A Princess sold to be a slave, because her uncle wanted to avoid war with Egypt. But, she’ll be the one to bring the war back to him. One day. The Prince promised her.

2.Amun-Ra festival

Mariama opens the doors of the queen’s private bath. She knows the woman is still asleep in her bed, but she also knows that she’ll expect everything to be ready for her lazy ass when she rises. Working in silence on the elaborate dress adorned with rubies, she has the time to think up a plan. The Prince wants it to happen today. He is probably right about the timing. The palace and temple will be full of people. It gives her the perfect opportunity and alibi. Everyone knows her place, everyone fears her. No one will suspect her.

Her trusted pets reside in the special box right here in the Queens bath. She takes out one of the scorpions to create the make up lotion that gives the Queen her rosy cheeks. Mixing the venom with dried herbs and chalk she thinks what would happen if she gets the dose wrong? Is it trust or vanity the Queen shows her? Does the woman think Mariama loves her? What slave really loves their master? She loves the Prince, but he’s not her master. She might be his puppet, but she chose this. If he doesn’t keep his word, she can just kill them all and vanish.

The chalk has absorbed the red of the herbs and the venom. It’s silky smooth and ready to be applied. Mariama sighs deeply. She did it right, again. Time to face the degradation and humiliation. She can hear the Queen. That woman loves to hear herself talk more than anything. Would the Prince mind if she “accidentally” kills his mother? She doesn’t know how much she can take. The Queen should fear her, but she never pays any attention to her.

The Queen enjoys seeing fear in everyone’s eyes. So she’s keeping Mariama close to her all the time. The sadistic b***h probably spread the rumours herself. Mariama thinks that maybe she should be killed next. But how does she suggest to the Prince to kill his own mother? She doesn’t want to go behind his back, but getting him to see that his mother is just as bad as the minister is not an easy task.

When she’s finally pinning up the Queen’s long hair, Mariama get’s the perfect idea. Rubies on the pins flash red as blood. The Queen is going for drama, which is the opposite of what the Pharaoh wants. It’s a sun festival. Everything should be gold. Red dress, a jackal on her necklace, and rubies are a statement. The Queen does not believe in Amun-Ra as the only god. Is she trying to push Egypt into a war with itself? There won’t be a chance to talk about this with the Prince.

Mariama escorts the Queen to the designated meeting place with the Pharaoh. The throne room is filled with dignitaries and guards. But everyone makes way for the Queen when they see Mariama. Another reason that rotten woman is keeping her close. The idiots believe she can cast curses if they touch her. Wouldn’t her life be easier if she could?

The look from the Pharaoh means trouble. It’s not her fault the Queen does what she pleases. But she also knows he won’t make a scene. Nothing can spoil his festival. He will blatantly overlook the Queen’s disregard, and carry on as if nothing happened. The festivities must run as planned. That is her cue to fade into the background.

The priests have the main words until midnight when the Pharaoh, the sun god incarnate, takes over. Mariama doesn’t have any function in the festival. A slave’s place is at the back. Which gives her ample time to prepare. She was seen, that’s the important detail in her plan. The Prince is at the front with his parents and his wife, Princess Neera. She caught his gaze and his question about the Queen’s dress without him actually saying anything. Mariama shrugged and looked away.

Now, she’s leaning against the back wall. Waiting like the obedient servant that she's not. Her dress is hiding all that she needs. A small pouch with her trusted pets. She gets to carry them around with her, because the vain creature that is the current Queen desires her rosy cheeks and blood-red lips at all times. What better way to achieve that than with a drop of venom? Nobody knows it’s a science that takes time to prepare. They look at their Queen with admiration and fear.

For this special occasion, she prepped her darlings. Keeping her pets in the Queen’s quarters comes in handy. She was there all the time, tending to the Queen. No one will know that she fed her pets in between with cobra venom. The luxury of being alone with the Queen who cares only about herself comes with time to do what she needs. The resilient little darlings are comfortable, well fed and warm. She hums a lullaby to keep them calm. They recognise the vibrations of her voice and stay still.

The priests are stalling for time with unnecessary long speeches. Mariama can tell that everyone is bored. Everyone except the Pharaoh. That man holds the rituals over everything else. She wonders when has religion taken first place in his life? He’s not looking out for Egypt and its people anymore.

Her target is on the fringes of all the courtiers. The minister should be in front, but he’s not. Did the guy just make her job that much easier without knowing it? Or is there something else going on tonight? Maybe he just hopes to slip out and ditch the festivities? He is awfully close to the side door of the temple. She can’t let him get out and ruin her plan. This is the only chance at gaining her freedom. The Prince does not condone mistakes. She hasn’t failed him, yet. Scorpion poison can’t be detected, so it’s the perfect weapon. It’s not the first time or the first victim, either. Mariama favours poison to any other means because it’s clean.

Mariama changes her position to be closer to the door. If the minister does leave, she has to catch him very fast. As the Queens consort, she’s not allowed to leave the palace. The ritual is nearing the peak. The priests will hand over all the power to the Pharaoh with the striking of the gong. That huge bronze thing makes so much noise that nothing can be heard for a few minutes. She also has to get out of here at that point or her pets might go crazy and kill her. There is just one right moment and she has to get it done on time.

She takes one of her pets out of the pouch. Hiding the small creature in her long sleeve, Mariama steps closer to the minister. She sends a quick prayer to Anubis and thanks the animal in her hand for its sacrifice. With her eyes on the gong, she lets the scorpion climb on the minister’s robe. Knowing what will happen when the gong goes off, she runs out the door as fast as she can. There is no need for her to be there when the minister dies, but it’s crucial that she’s seen on the other side of the temple.

Making a mad dash around the palace's halls, Mariama deposits her pouch of death in a secret hideout. There are many statuaries with nooks that she knows like the back of her hand. The rest of her beauties will be fine without her for a few hours. Then she slips back inside the temple using the servant’s entry. She leans on the wall pretending to be bored. Nobody will hold her accountable for it. The court believes her to be a witch. They don’t know anything about her at all.

Mariama searches the temple for the minister. He can’t be seen, but there are guards at the place she’s left him. She can see a few of them practically carrying the minister out. A small feat to keep it hidden from the masses, but she’s not the only one to notice. The Queen seems worried. She nudges her head at Mariama to follow the guards, and makes a gesture with her ruby clad hand that means she has to come back and report.

Smiling, she makes her way around the crowd to the other door. Mariama bends down fast to collect her pet. There are pockets in her dress to hide the poor thing. It looks to her that the minister squashed the scorpion when he fell. Away with the evidence and all that. The guards won’t ever touch her in fear of the Queen's retribution.

“He’s dead,” one of the guards tells her.

“Oh…” Mariama looks at all of them. “The Queen won’t be happy. He was her favourite minister.”

“The Pharaoh can’t know. It will ruin the festival,” the other guard announces.

“I don’t see how we can keep it from him. The Queen sent me to see what’s going on. I have to tell her the truth,” she shrugs and leaves them with the corpse that is slowly turning blue.

3.All Hell breaking loose

“The minister of treasury is dead,” Mariama whispers to the Queen.

“What?” The Pharaoh roars. He heard her, because she wanted him to. She could have written it down and passed a note to the Queen, but she decided to say it.

“Your Holiness, that’s not part of the ritual,” one of the priests murmurs.

“Neither is this,” The Queen counters. She draws a long thin knife from her dress and stabs the Pharaoh. “I can’t let you continue this charade! Amun-Ra my ass. All hail Anubis!”

“Oh, oh!” Mariama exclaims. She didn’t see this coming. Nobody has. The Prince pulls her away from the Queen’s side in a swift motion. The Hell breaking loose around them is fun to see, if you’re not in the middle of it. The guards rush the Queen to take her down, but she apparently had other plans. There are fresh cuts blooming on her hands. The Queen slit her wrists. And by the gushing blood, she did a lot of damage in the right places. The ultimate sacrifice to Lord Anubis.

“Come on,” the Prince orders her. He takes her to a guard waiting by the side door. “Take her to the Queen's quarters. Maybe my mother can be saved?”

“By the witch? Right,” the guard scoffs, but he makes no motion to touch Mariama.

“Go! That’s an order!” The Prince bellows at the guard.

“I’ll go there by myself, but I don’t know what you hope me to do, my Prince,” Mariama tells him calmly. They haven’t discussed anything, so she’s a bit clueless about what his intention is.

As she waits in the lush bedroom of the former Queen, she is certain the Prince knows there is nothing to be done for his mother. What is he playing at? With both his parents dead, he can take over the throne. He probably did it already. At least the old Pharaoh got his wish. A festival no one will ever forget. Just not for the reasons he thought. Mariama paces the rooms like a caged lion. She feels trapped in this golden cage. Not knowing what is going on is making her anxious.

Several hours later, she hears knocking on the door. With only her here, she goes to open it to see what is going on. Being kept in the dark didn’t sit well with her. The Prince used to tell her everything, but now he locked her away. At least it’s not the dungeon, she thinks to herself. Looking directly into the guards eyes, she waits for him to say something. The uniform looks like the one the Prince’s private guards wear.

“Your Highness, the Pharaoh demands an audience,” the guard bows slightly.

“Huh?” Mariama is confused. Nobody ever addressed her this way before. She was too little back then and she’s a slave now. The best she gets from anyone not the Prince is witch. And nobody calls her by name at all.

“Follow me to the throne room,” the guard motions for her. And somewhere along the way, another guard comes along to drape a blue robe over her violet dress.

Mariama walks with fear for the first time in so long. Did the old Pharaoh survive, or is this her Prince calling for her? Is it possible someone noticed what she did? But why would the guard address her as “Your Highness”? It’s definitely one of the Prince's personal guards, but she has never seen this man before. Her thoughts get interrupted by the commotion she can hear from the throne room. The events of today have left many people highly upset.

The guards stop at the massive door. The royal announcer slams his staff into the ground with all force to get the people to stop talking. The utter silence that follows is broken by the voice of her Prince. He’s sitting on the throne of his Father, wearing the royal garb and crown. He made himself the Pharaoh? But what utterly floors her are his words: “I present Her Royal Highness, Princess Mariama of Ethiopia. Your future Queen.”

No. She didn’t see this coming at all. He said that he loves her a few times, but making a slave his Queen? Has he lost it completely? Is insanity running in his family? And what happened to Princess Neera? Right now questions seem to drown out the answers. Mariama walks on automatically. Maybe the guard slightly steering her in the right direction is actually helping her, but why? She didn’t want this. She wanted freedom to go back home and kill her uncle. Whatever happened after that, she would just leave to chance.

But it looks like she is exchanging one cage for another. Yes, a queen is free. Just not to do what she wants. Turning him down would be a death sentence and she loves to live. So, she takes the seat he offers. She holds her head high when he places a crown on her dark hair. And above all, she holds her tongue. For now. Ruining his big moment is not in her best interest. The time for questions will come later. She is certain he will come to her tonight. Making her his Queen in public is just the first step. There will be a marriage ceremony and after that time to quench the fires he just started. She can see the displeased faces in the crowd. Fear is mixed with hate.

Time for vengeance will come. A war is brewing on the horizon. But the Queen of the Nile will come out of it stronger than ever. This is just the beginning of her story, never the end.

Author Pen name: Karmen Kramer

Author Works

DREAME: Gods of Old, Wolves of Milano, Sacrificed to the Dragon, Survival Island (reality show), The story of the Fallen.

AM.AZON: The Moon Goddess Sorority.

Author groups/websites/pages:

FB : Karmen Kramer - author

Am.azon: Karmen Kramer