It was the shawl that inspired her.
She had found it draped across a low branch of a tree in the gardens, a worn, tattered thing that was more gray than white. How it had gotten into the garden Hatshepsut had no idea. Maybe it belonged to a slave who had sneaked out of the palace for a secret rendezvous. Or perhaps it had been discarded by one of the petitioners who had come to have a dispute mediated by the Queen. There had been a session that morning in the throne room and she had sat by her mother as she made a decision in each case.
Hatshepsut had impulsively taken the shawl to her room and placed it in the bottom of one of the chests that held her clothes. As the days wore on, she concocted a plan as to how she might use it. She had always been curious about the stalls in the Grand Souk and had wondered what it would be like to simply stroll around and browse like the commoners and nobles that frequented it. Actually walking among her people might also tell her more about them, so that she would have more insight into their lives and what they wanted and needed. It would be a little adventure.
And so, one afternoon when she went to the Souk to distribute alms to the poor, she kept the curtains on her sedan chair covered as her servants and retainers handed out food and coins. After unfastening the jeweled brooch that held her sheer filmy kalisaris in place, Hatshepsut took it off as well as all of her jewelry. Beneath it, she wore a simple linen sheath which wouldn't look out of place in the Souk even though it was made of very fine fabric. She had been sitting on the old shawl so nobody would see it and she pulled it out from under her and wrapped it around her shoulders, arranging it so that it covered her hair and left her face in shadow.
She had instructed the bearers to set the sedan chair down in front of a building so that she could part the curtains and slip out unobtrusively. Hiding herself in the crowd, Hatshepsut watched her servants doling out charity for a few moments. Everything seemed surreal from her forbidden point of view. Soon, though, she was happily perusing the merchandise available, going from stall to stall and listening to the conversations around her. She knew she couldn't stay away very long and determined to make the most of the time she had.
Stopping at a food stall, she bought a pasty that smelled delicious. Unfortunately, it was a bit too greasy for her and she fed it to a cat who had appeared from behind the stall to rub against her legs. It was obvious that the little feline had recently had kittens and the young Queen decided to follow it to make sure that the babies were in a safe place. If not, she would take them home with her. Cats, were, after all, sacred animals.
She had not been tracking it long when a menacing shadow fell over her and she found herself staring at a broad chest covered with a rather grimy tunic that reeked of salt and sweat. “Well, well, what have we here?” a gruff voice barked in Greek, and Hatshepsut looked up into a rough bearded face with small mean eyes and a nose that had been broken more than once.
Fear clutched her heart and she reached up to pull her shawl further over her face with her free hand. A second man grabbed her hand and studied it. “And she ain't no whore, neither,” he said. His head was as bald as an Egyptian’s but much lighter in tone. It gleamed in the light of the sun. “Looks like she ain't done a day of work in her life. We got us a noblewoman, here, fellas.”
Two more unsavory characters lurked behind her. The air smelled like salt and fish and she realized that she had followed the cat away from the Souk and towards the docks. There were no other people around but the four men ... who were probably sailors or even pirates ... and herself. Screaming would do no good here and they probably wouldn't care that she was the Queen of Egypt. In fact, if she revealed her identity, they might try to either kidnap or kill her. “It looks like our lucky day,” one of the others said. He leaned down to Hatshepsut's level and favored her with a lewd grin made all the more frightening by the absence of about half his teeth. His breath smelled like a chamber pot. “C'mere, love, and give me a kiss.”
The second man guffawed so loudly it made her jump. “I want more from her than just a kiss.” He grabbed her from behind and turned her around to face him. Her heart pounded in terror and she could think of nothing else but getting away. Instinctively, she stepped down hard on his foot, and when he yelped and let her go, she leapt of the way. “A lively one!” the third sailor exclaimed. She whirled around as as lunged at her and barely missed being grabbed by his meaty hands.
The one who had not yet spoken caught her before she could run. He pinned her hands to her sides and brought his mouth close to hers. Hatshepsut kneed him hard in the groin, and he released her and doubled over in pain. The young Queen turned to run back the way she had come, but one of the sailors grabbed her arm and lurched her back. Her other arm was captured as well, and one of them slammed a hand roughly over her mouth so she couldn't cry out. The one who had spoken first advanced upon her with a glare that was a chilling mixture of lust and anger. “There's no getting away from us now, girlie,” he said. “You're ours now, for as long as we wish to have you.”
Hatshepsut gulped and closed her eyes. They held her so firmly that she couldn't even struggle. Why had she left the safety of her sedan chair? If she had not longed for a bit of stolen freedom, she wouldn't be in this predicament. As it was, she doubted she would live to see the morrow, and if she did …. she would wish she was dead.
She had found it draped across a low branch of a tree in the gardens, a worn, tattered thing that was more gray than white. How it had gotten into the garden Hatshepsut had no idea. Maybe it belonged to a slave who had sneaked out of the palace for a secret rendezvous. Or perhaps it had been discarded by one of the petitioners who had come to have a dispute mediated by the Queen. There had been a session that morning in the throne room and she had sat by her mother as she made a decision in each case.
Hatshepsut had impulsively taken the shawl to her room and placed it in the bottom of one of the chests that held her clothes. As the days wore on, she concocted a plan as to how she might use it. She had always been curious about the stalls in the Grand Souk and had wondered what it would be like to simply stroll around and browse like the commoners and nobles that frequented it. Actually walking among her people might also tell her more about them, so that she would have more insight into their lives and what they wanted and needed. It would be a little adventure.
And so, one afternoon when she went to the Souk to distribute alms to the poor, she kept the curtains on her sedan chair covered as her servants and retainers handed out food and coins. After unfastening the jeweled brooch that held her sheer filmy kalisaris in place, Hatshepsut took it off as well as all of her jewelry. Beneath it, she wore a simple linen sheath which wouldn't look out of place in the Souk even though it was made of very fine fabric. She had been sitting on the old shawl so nobody would see it and she pulled it out from under her and wrapped it around her shoulders, arranging it so that it covered her hair and left her face in shadow.
She had instructed the bearers to set the sedan chair down in front of a building so that she could part the curtains and slip out unobtrusively. Hiding herself in the crowd, Hatshepsut watched her servants doling out charity for a few moments. Everything seemed surreal from her forbidden point of view. Soon, though, she was happily perusing the merchandise available, going from stall to stall and listening to the conversations around her. She knew she couldn't stay away very long and determined to make the most of the time she had.
Stopping at a food stall, she bought a pasty that smelled delicious. Unfortunately, it was a bit too greasy for her and she fed it to a cat who had appeared from behind the stall to rub against her legs. It was obvious that the little feline had recently had kittens and the young Queen decided to follow it to make sure that the babies were in a safe place. If not, she would take them home with her. Cats, were, after all, sacred animals.
She had not been tracking it long when a menacing shadow fell over her and she found herself staring at a broad chest covered with a rather grimy tunic that reeked of salt and sweat. “Well, well, what have we here?” a gruff voice barked in Greek, and Hatshepsut looked up into a rough bearded face with small mean eyes and a nose that had been broken more than once.
Fear clutched her heart and she reached up to pull her shawl further over her face with her free hand. A second man grabbed her hand and studied it. “And she ain't no whore, neither,” he said. His head was as bald as an Egyptian’s but much lighter in tone. It gleamed in the light of the sun. “Looks like she ain't done a day of work in her life. We got us a noblewoman, here, fellas.”
Two more unsavory characters lurked behind her. The air smelled like salt and fish and she realized that she had followed the cat away from the Souk and towards the docks. There were no other people around but the four men ... who were probably sailors or even pirates ... and herself. Screaming would do no good here and they probably wouldn't care that she was the Queen of Egypt. In fact, if she revealed her identity, they might try to either kidnap or kill her. “It looks like our lucky day,” one of the others said. He leaned down to Hatshepsut's level and favored her with a lewd grin made all the more frightening by the absence of about half his teeth. His breath smelled like a chamber pot. “C'mere, love, and give me a kiss.”
The second man guffawed so loudly it made her jump. “I want more from her than just a kiss.” He grabbed her from behind and turned her around to face him. Her heart pounded in terror and she could think of nothing else but getting away. Instinctively, she stepped down hard on his foot, and when he yelped and let her go, she leapt of the way. “A lively one!” the third sailor exclaimed. She whirled around as as lunged at her and barely missed being grabbed by his meaty hands.
The one who had not yet spoken caught her before she could run. He pinned her hands to her sides and brought his mouth close to hers. Hatshepsut kneed him hard in the groin, and he released her and doubled over in pain. The young Queen turned to run back the way she had come, but one of the sailors grabbed her arm and lurched her back. Her other arm was captured as well, and one of them slammed a hand roughly over her mouth so she couldn't cry out. The one who had spoken first advanced upon her with a glare that was a chilling mixture of lust and anger. “There's no getting away from us now, girlie,” he said. “You're ours now, for as long as we wish to have you.”
Hatshepsut gulped and closed her eyes. They held her so firmly that she couldn't even struggle. Why had she left the safety of her sedan chair? If she had not longed for a bit of stolen freedom, she wouldn't be in this predicament. As it was, she doubted she would live to see the morrow, and if she did …. she would wish she was dead.