Title: Tomb Hunter: Episode 7: Larra’s Saharan Adventure

Email: Lespion@msn.com

 

TOMB HUNTER

The Adventures of Larra Court

Episode 7

Larra’s Saharan Adventure

 

Chapter 8  The Egyptians

 

Ibana pushed angrily through the grove of trees.  For the second time this week someone had broken into his banana grove and made off with part of his crop.  But this time the culprit had been careless, leaving an easily followed trail.  He slowed a bit, sensing that he was getting closer.  He did not want to frighten his quarry away.  He raised his hand to caution the two men following him.  Mahuhy, his overseer and one of his field hands.  He was a bit annoyed with Mahuhy, as he was supposed to be watching the banana grove that day and had obviously not done his job. 

 

Just ahead was a stand of bushes.  The sandal tracks led straight into it.  He motioned to his two companions to spread out.  If the thief bolted there would be a better chance of catching him.  He tapped the stick he held gently into the palm of his hand.  He suspected the thief was one of the locals.  He would give him a thrashing that he would long remember. 

 

Very quietly now he tiptoed forward, parting the bushes carefully so as not to make too much noise.  His eyes widened as he saw beyond the bush into a small clearing.  Slowly he backed away.  This was something he had not expected.  Motioning to his two helpers he beat a hasty retreat. 

 

“What is it, master?” Mahuhy asked.

 

“A wild woman.  A savage.  We must send for the guard.”  He turned to the field hand.  “Find the nearest guard.  Tell him that we have found a wild woman and need help in her subjugation.  Tell him she had been stealing my bananas.”

 

He and Mahuhy settled down to keep watch as the man ran off.  With any luck the savage woman he had seen sleeping next to a pile of banana peels would still be there when the guard arrived.

 

 

Melissa stirred.  She sat up and rubbed her eyes.  She was feeling a lot better after a good sleep and a second meal of bananas.  But she was getting a little tired of the starchy fruit.  “I’m going to start chirping like a chimp if I don’t get something else to eat soon,” she muttered.  “And I need a bath.  I hope there is a nice deep pool of water somewhere in this valley.  There should be.  It seems green enough.”

 

She pushed through the screen of vegetation, but as she entered the open area on the other side, something dropped over her.  For a second she was too stunned to move, then as she realized that she was snared in a net, she fought to break free.  But her efforts were too late.  The net settled over her and was drawn tight, knocking her off her feet.  She landed hard enough to knock the wind out of her, something that should not have happened if she had remembered some of the training Larra had instilled into her.  Her lack of discipline left her helpless as she was tightly trussed up in the net and hoisted into the air by a half dozen men. 

 

Only when it was too late to escape did she protest.  “Put me down,” she screamed, but her captors paid no attention to her objections and babbled away in an incomprehensible language.  Realizing at last that she was truly caught, and that her captors did not understand anything she was saying, she finally fell silent. 

 

 

“She is mine,” Ibana insisted.  I found her on my property and she has been stealing my bananas.”

 

“You forget,” replied one of the guardsmen who had joined them, “she is white.  And the pharaoh has commanded that all white women be brought to his court.”

 

“But I found her.  I should at least get the reward for finding her,” Ibana protested

 

“I’ll mention it to the slave master at the palace,” the guard grinned.

 

“I’ll bet you will.  You’ll just pocket the reward and I’ll be out my bananas.”  Ibana was hopping up and down in rage.  “Look at her,” he added, jumping around the entangled prisoner.  “She’s just a savage.  She sounds just like a monkey.  How can you consider her a white woman?  I should be able to claim her.”

 

“Look,” said the guard, reaching into a pouch.  “Here is a silver coin for your bananas and your help in catching the woman.”  Noting the outraged look on Ibana’s face he fished out a second coin.  “Alright, two silvers and you better take them.  I’m running out of patience.”

 

Cursing, Ibana snatched the coins.  Shaking his fist he watched sullenly as the four guardsmen hauled the passive savage away.  Inside the netting Melissa lay quiet.  She had noted the heated exchange between the guardsmen and the banana farmer, not understanding a word.  She was saving herself for the time when the net was removed.  Then she would make her break.  At the same time she was taking in the panorama of the unbelievable city she was being carried through.

 

“I must be dreaming,” she thought.  “It looks like I’m in an ancient Egyptian city.”  Everywhere she looked she saw people hurrying about their business.  All of them were dressed in the manner of the ancient pictures and carvings she had studied in the archeological texts Larra had instructed her to read before they had journeyed to Egypt.  In addition, the buildings were unmistakably Egyptian in their architecture. 

 

Most of the people, she noted, were brown skinned.  A few, riding in chariots or carried on litters were lighter skinned.  There was obviously quite a bit of interracial mixing in this lost civilization, but the whites seemed to occupy the upper echelons of society.  She pondered this information as she was hurried through the streets, the net she was being carried in swinging side to side.  As she passed through the city most people stopped to stare.  It was obvious that she was considered something unusual, a not surprising event considering that she was dressed in rags and almost completely nude. 

 

At length the men carrying her entered a large building, passing between rows of huge columns and into an inner courtyard.  She was dumped unceremoniously on the ground in front of a rather important looking individual.  Like most of the people she had seen he was simply dressed, wearing only sandals and a kilt-like garment.  But he also wore an impressive gold medallion and was tall and powerfully muscled.

 

He studied her through the netting for a moment and then barked out an order.  Melissa was picked up again and hurried across the compound and into a large building.  Several flights of stairs later she found herself in a large well lit room.  It appeared to be some sort of palatial living quarters, because it was sumptuously furnished and well decorated with statuary and live plants.  In the centre of the room was a burbling fountain and spaced abut the room were numerous male and female servants.  She noted that most of the latter were either nude or wearing so little clothing that it really did not matter.  

 

This time when the net was lowered, it was set down more gently, but no effort was made to release her.  A tall powerfully built man strode forward.  From the richness of the clothing and jewelry that he wore, Melissa guessed that this was the man she had been brought to see.  He was the first man who matched her in height.  Melissa guessed that he was probably close to six feet tall. 

 

Of all the people in the room he was the only one wearing anything on his head.  He wore a circlet of gold with the figure of a cobra arched to strike on the front.  He studied her intensely and then nodded.  Once more she was picked up carried by the four guards who had captured her.  This time she did not go far.  She was taken to an apartment just off the main room. 

 

As the net was loosened Melissa wondered what she should do.  The room where she had been taken did not resemble a prison in any way.  Far from it; it appeared to be a very spacious and luxurious living quarters.  Other than being captured by being snared in the net she had not been harmed, nor had she been threatened in any way.  She also had to admit that she was probably a rather wild looking character.  And she had stolen the bananas.  By the time the net had been untangled she had decided to see where things were headed. 

 

A few minutes later she was glad she had decided to act with restraint.  She was up to her neck in perfumed water and receiving a thorough cleansing at the hands of three serving girls.  At the same time she was helping herself to a sumptuous platter of fruit and chasing it down with some of the finest red wine she had ever tasted.  The four guardsmen had departed, leaving her alone with the five maidservants who were now attending her every need.  As the effects of the wine took hold, Melissa allowed herself to settle more deeply into the water and closed her eyes.  “This is heaven,” she thought.  “A girl could really get used to this.”

 

 

Queen Isetnofret ground her teeth, but concealed her rage in the presence of her husband.  Another concubine, and this one exotically beautiful.  The queen had never seen anything like her.  Tangled in the net when she had been brought is she seemed like a wild thing, but she knew that would make her all the more attractive to the pharaoh.  He was powerfully attracted to the strange and the beautiful, and the bizarre young woman was certainly both of those. 

 

She just had to see more of the newcomer.  Excusing herself on the pretext that she needed to attend to something personal, she sneaked into the living quarters.  Standing behind a wicker screen she spied on the savage as she was bathed and readied for the pharaoh. 

 

She did not like what she saw.  That mahogany brown hair and tall supple body were far too attractive and unusual.  And she had a gorgeous physique with breasts the size of ripe melons, an incredibly narrow waist, and long powerful legs.  She could imagine them wrapped around her husband.  Such a woman would be a dangerous rival, especially as she was at least ten years younger than she was. 

 

Returning to the pharaoh, she spent the rest of the day trying to think of ways of eliminating her new competition.  After sorting through dozens of highly imaginative possibilities she decided that the direct approach would probably work best.  She would try it out tonight.

 

 

Melissa felt great, if a little apprehensive.  There had been only one anxious moment since she had been brought to the palace. And that had been when she had been shaved.  The Egyptians seemed to have something of a phobia about body hair.  She had been almost asleep in the bath when she felt the touch of a razor to her skin.  The sensation had revived frightening memories of her rape at the hands of Reginald Featherstone.  That memory of being tied down on a tabletop and having her pubic hair removed was still as vivid as if it had happened only the day before.  It had taken all of her self control not to flee screaming from the bathwater.  But she had forced herself to submit to the gentle hands of the handmaidens as they carefully scraped her fur away with bronze razors.  She had been kept shaved ever since that day.  Her body was as smooth and hairless as the day she had been born.  Other than that her treatment at the hands of the Egyptians had been extremely generous if a little puzzling.  She did not know why she had been treated so royally although she could guess.  She appeared to have been added to the pharaoh’s harem.  That was a little worrying as it meant that the pharaoh would no doubt expect her to behave in the customary manner concubines.   Not that she found the thought all that repugnant.  The pharaoh was a handsome and impressive man.  However, she was a twentieth century woman and could not picture herself surrendering her life to one of sexual servitude no matter how pleasant the experience might be.  She was no meek captive to go quietly to the pharaoh’s bed simply because he summoned her.  If she was to submit to a man it must be by her choice, and not because she was regarded as a piece of property to be used and then thrown away when the man was tired of her.

 

However, it did not appear that she had much choice at present.  She was obviously a prisoner in the palace.  She had passed enough armed guards on the way in to realize that escape would not be easy and even if she did get out where would she go?  She knew nothing about the strange civilization she had stumbled into.  Getting out of the palace was only the first step.  Then there was the city and beyond that…  she had no idea.  Probably the Sahara again, and she had no equipment to help survive the perils of the desert.  It was best to wait and see what prevailed.

 

She glanced at her companions.  There were sixteen others; all of them dark-haired Egyptian girls ranging in age from fourteen to thirty.  The oldest she learned was the queen, Isetnofret, who lorded it over the rest.  She made it quite clear that in the harem she was the one in charge.  So far though, she had kept her distance.  Perhaps she was afraid of her.  She was much taller than any of the other women and a good nine inches taller than the queen.  She had noticed, however, the queen darting glances her way.  The looks she gave her were venomous.  She would have to be on her guard.

 

Her mind swung back to the task at hand.  She was trying to learn a little of the Egyptian language and had picked up quite a few words in just a short while.  A pair of fourteen-year-old girls was helping her and seemed delighted to do it.  “Table,” said Melissa in Egyptian.  One of the girls nodded and smiled.  Then she touched an onyx vase.  “Vase,” said Melissa.  The girl started to smile but suddenly went pale.  Melissa turned in the direction the girl was looking.  A few feet away stood Queen  Isetnofret.  In her hand was a dagger, and she was stroking the blade suggestively.

 

Melissa looked calmly at the queen.  She recognized an attempt by the older woman to intimidate her, but was having nothing to do with it.  Her controlled reaction seemed to anger the queen.  Stepping closer she said something in Egyptian that Melissa did not understand.  But she didn’t really need to, the threat was clear enough. 

 

Isetnofret raised the dagger, the point only inches from Melissa’s breasts.  Melissa didn’t know if the queen intended to use the knife or was just trying to frighten her, but she took no chances.  Using one of the moves Larra had shown her, she reached across with her right hand and grasped the woman’s knife hand.  Then with her left hand she lifted the queen’s elbow.  The move was so quickly executed that Isetnofret could only gasp in pain as her arm was twisted behind her and she was disarmed.  Melissa caught the knife and disdainfully tossed it into a reflecting pool a few feet away. 

 

Purple with rage and screaming abuse, Isetnofret backed away as Melissa released her.  She recognized only one word out of the many insults hurled at her, the word for “savage.”  She smiled.  If the queen thought her a savage so much the better.  Perhaps she would leave her alone from now on. 

 

The rest of the night passed peacefully.  Isetnofret kept her distance, although Melissa slept with one eye open.  She had no illusions, she knew that she had made a dangerous enemy.  But she had also changed the hierarchy of the harem as well.  That was made clear the next day, when many of the younger girls grouped themselves around Melissa.  Isetnofret was left with only a few loyalists.  But Melissa knew that the power of the queen rested with more than just the support of the other members of the harem.  The pharaoh was supreme.  Whatever woman secured his affection would dominate; at least until a younger and prettier woman came along.  She would just have to wait and see how much of the pharaoh’s power still rested in the hands of the one he had made queen. 

 

For the first few days, nothing happened to change the new balance of power Melissa had created in the harem.  The members of the harem came and went, summoned by the pharaoh whenever his mind turned in their direction or he wanted some female companionship.  Isetnofret was summoned on several occasions, but either she had not brought up the subject of Melissa’s insubordination or the pharaoh decided not to act on her complaints.  She still did not know enough of the language to carry on an intelligent conversation, although her vocabulary was increasing every day.  And so she waited.  Waited until that special day, when a maidservant came to her and uttered the words Melissa both expected and dreaded.  “The pharaoh wants you.  Come now.”


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