Neithotep and her brother Akhenaten were quite familiar with the more disreputable section of Cairo and the taverns and brothels that lay within; some might even say too familiar. Then again, neither of them cared much for what others said. They knew where they were liked. They knew where they were wanted. And it wasn’t at home.
It was late in the evening when Nia and Akhenaten found themselves walking up to one of their more frequented taverns, a seedy little establishment with the flippant name Tears of the Nile. It was well known for its strong drinks and plentiful opium, along with some of the best dancers and performers that could be found this deep in the city. Nia had seen performances in the palace of the Pharaoh more than once. She still thought this place was better.
At least as far as the company went.
Offering a bright smile to her younger sibling, they slipped inside without a word. As soon as they stepped past the door, they were encased in smoke and haze, the sweet smell of burning poppy wafting into her nose. The resonating sound of a foreign bard’s voice filled the air, immediately enchanting the young lady of Hei Sheifa. Seeking its source, she smiled; she had come at the right time. A tension she didn’t even realize she was holding released in her shoulders, dropping a kiss on her brother’s cheek before disappearing further into the room.
Twining through the small crowd so that she might find a better vantage point to watch this unknown performer, Nia was greeted by faces both known and unknown. One of the tavern’s regulars, a middle-aged woman by the name of Rashida held out her pipe in offering as the nubile girl passed. Lips pulling into a broad grin, she accepted, taking a long, luxurious drag of the heady nectar so many were already indulging in. With a murmured thanks, she brushed Rashida’s cheek and kept moving until she came to a more open area with a better view of the singer.
Settling on one of the free cushions, another pipe was passed her way, this time from unfamiliar hands. Not that she cared. Free drugs were free drugs and who was Nia to say no? Accepting it gratefully, she took another hit, the smoke curling from her nose as she leaned back. Spotting a lovely woman with dark skin and exotically beautiful eyes lounging nearby, she scooted a little closer and offered her the pipe, as well.
“He’s got quite the voice, don’t you think?” she asked the stranger with another smile, indicating the golden-haired bard they were all gathered around. With a conspiratorial wink, she added, “And rather handsome, too.”
Neena of the Zaire Hesiodos of Phossis
It was late in the evening when Nia and Akhenaten found themselves walking up to one of their more frequented taverns, a seedy little establishment with the flippant name Tears of the Nile. It was well known for its strong drinks and plentiful opium, along with some of the best dancers and performers that could be found this deep in the city. Nia had seen performances in the palace of the Pharaoh more than once. She still thought this place was better.
At least as far as the company went.
Offering a bright smile to her younger sibling, they slipped inside without a word. As soon as they stepped past the door, they were encased in smoke and haze, the sweet smell of burning poppy wafting into her nose. The resonating sound of a foreign bard’s voice filled the air, immediately enchanting the young lady of Hei Sheifa. Seeking its source, she smiled; she had come at the right time. A tension she didn’t even realize she was holding released in her shoulders, dropping a kiss on her brother’s cheek before disappearing further into the room.
Twining through the small crowd so that she might find a better vantage point to watch this unknown performer, Nia was greeted by faces both known and unknown. One of the tavern’s regulars, a middle-aged woman by the name of Rashida held out her pipe in offering as the nubile girl passed. Lips pulling into a broad grin, she accepted, taking a long, luxurious drag of the heady nectar so many were already indulging in. With a murmured thanks, she brushed Rashida’s cheek and kept moving until she came to a more open area with a better view of the singer.
Settling on one of the free cushions, another pipe was passed her way, this time from unfamiliar hands. Not that she cared. Free drugs were free drugs and who was Nia to say no? Accepting it gratefully, she took another hit, the smoke curling from her nose as she leaned back. Spotting a lovely woman with dark skin and exotically beautiful eyes lounging nearby, she scooted a little closer and offered her the pipe, as well.
“He’s got quite the voice, don’t you think?” she asked the stranger with another smile, indicating the golden-haired bard they were all gathered around. With a conspiratorial wink, she added, “And rather handsome, too.”
Neena of the Zaire Hesiodos of Phossis