It was a sea of sand and I could see no end. My throat was parched and my lips, cracked. I laid curled into a ball and a gust of wind blew briefly. A shadow fell over me, circling menacingly. Turning over on my back was difficult. The muscles in my body seemed to be frozen. Yes, I was frozen under the scorching sun in the desert.
I turned to face the cloudless sky. The scorching ground beneath me shook suddenly and I watched the eagle which had been circling above dive towards me. I could only watch helplessly as it swooped down swiftly, aiming for my eyes.
“Tanith! Wake up, it’s just a dream!” came a panicked voice. It was Bella, the new slave recruited to serve Lady Frida and Master Hadi. My eyes flew open and stared straight into her concerned, blue eyes. I groaned and felt how my throat hurt. I must have been screaming again.
“It’s just a dream, Tanith,” Bella said and rubbed my back gently. Bless her heart. If only she knew…
Our little shared bedroom was dark save for the little, flickering candle on the floor. “Thank you, Bella. Now go, get your sleep,” I whispered hoarsely. She yawned tiredly and walked towards the makeshift bed we made out of straws and old curtains. I looked out the window — a hole in the wall with rusty vertical bars. Millions of little stars were scattered all over the night sky. There were no eagles coming to get me. Sleep has left and I had three hours before a new day full of chores began.
The feast we had prepared the day before to celebrate the return of Master Hadi turned into a pile of waste. The servants helped themselves to the food left uneaten by the royal family. Bags and dishcloths were filled with dessert and meat for their families. They even allowed Bella and me to help ourselves. Our hands shook with excitement and needless to say, we went to bed with a stomach ache for not chewing properly. Good food is hard to come by and we weren’t going to miss that opportunity.
I suppose I should first explain why it all went to waste. After returning from the harbour, Lady Frida immediately raided her selection of fine dresses to wear that evening. Bella and I could only chuckle while we helped her in and out of almost all of her dresses. She was simply unhappy despite the compliments we gave her. After all, she was in love and wanted to look her best for Master Kai. However, it took her longer than intended. So, I excused myself to prepare the bath for Master Hadi and hurried towards his chamber on the other side of the palace wing.
“Rosemary and marjoram in the bath. Chamomile tea to drink. That’ll do the trick,” I said to myself. Each time Master Hadi returned from the raids, I mixed essential oils into his bath. They help him recover quicker and relax. The droplets dissolved as I mixed them with my hand in the bathtub. “Perfect,” I said excitedly, happy with the temperature of the bath.
“What’s perfect?” asked Master Hadi as he entered the bath. I was startled at his voice, let alone his appearance, and simply stuttered, “The b-bath is r-ready, Master Hadi.” I turned around too quickly and knelt down with a loud thud.
Slaves were not allowed to meet their masters’ eyes. I watched the space between his feet and where I knelt. My knees were aching after my fall, but it was forbidden to cry out loud. One by one, his clothing fell to the floor.
I pointed at the freshly brewed tea and said, “Your tea, Master Hadi.”
“Get out,” he hissed coldly.
I stood up to pick up his clothes before leaving. They smelled of sweat, mud and blood. His undershirt laid spread on the floor and it was hard to miss — a gash at the back, caked with blood. The water sloshed behind me as Master Hadi entered his bath. I quickly stole a glance at him and with his back towards me, I gasped at the sight of the poorly treated wound.
“Didn’t I tell you to get out?” he shouted.
I apologised and left his bath, my feet carrying me on their own to the cupboard in his chamber where a wooden box of medical equipment was stowed away. His dirty clothes could wait. My other chores could wait. His wound needed to be treated and I waited until he was done.
It was a routine, really. Master Hadi never complained, nor did he agree to it. I was glad to be able to help him in that way. After the bath, he would step out to his chamber where I waited and I’d treat his wounds. An agreement made in silence. He never winced, not uttered anything about the pain he felt. I never asked because I was never allowed to speak of it. Then, we carried on as if nothing happened — me with my chores, he with his duties.
One by one, they had all gathered at the dining hall. Queen Mother could barely sit still. Bella and I were in the kitchen plating the food neatly while the servants dressed in white uniforms took them to the table. I looked at their clothes and back at mine, stained no matter how many times I’ve washed them. Bella and I exchanged glances and could only smile sadly.
While we were preparing for the second course to be sent to the table, a loud crash followed by a scream and a man shouting filled the air. Bella and I ran up the servants’ steps and peeked through the slightly ajar door. Master Hadi was furious and Queen Mother had turned pale. Lady Frida looked down at her plate — it was difficult to read her expression. Later that night, Bella, who had served Lady Frida a basket of bread and warm milk before getting her ready for bed, told me Queen Mother had mentioned the arrival of a Princess, a suitor for Master Hadi, the following day. I honestly couldn’t care less about the arrival of anyone. It was Master Hadi’s first proper meal after being away for months and I was furious.
A shrill bell interrupted my thoughts. We had little bells hung on the wall with labels of where it had been rung from. The one ringing at the moment was labelled ‘Prince Hadi’. Bella turned in her sleep and I prayed she wouldn’t wake up. I got onto my feet, changed into my clothes quickly and ran up the series of steps towards his chamber. My heart was beating hard against my chest, fueled by excitement. I cleared my throat and hoped my voice wasn’t hoarse anymore.
Five knocks to announce me — same goes for Bella. Four for servants, three for officials and guards, two for family, one for Frida — after which she simply barges in without waiting for his approval. A muffled, “Come in,” came through the thick wooden door. I pushed it open slowly, to avoid any creaking.
“I need food,” he said.
“Cook has gone home, Master Hadi.”
“Well, cook something for me.”
“I-I c-can’t. I’m not allowed to,”
“Look at me.”
I gulped and lifted my head up to face him. Cook would be furious if she found out a slave had touched her holy pots and cooking utensils. Another slave before me had once heated up leftovers as she had been starving. She had cleaned up, but the coal had been warm when Cook arrived the following morning. Cook abused her physically and verbally, leaving her unfit for work for three days. It also meant no meals earned for three long days.
“Get me some food. Now,” he said curtly and narrowed his eyes.
Before I knew it, I was at the kitchen cooking a pot of stew. Some minutes later, I was going up the steps towards his chamber, balancing the bowl of hot food carefully in my hands. He must have heard me because the door swung open before I could knock on it. We walked towards his study and I set the bowl on the table as he sat on his chair.
“Wait until I’m done,” he said to me and began eating. I held my breath and watched him take his first bite. His eyebrows shot up and I saw a ghost of a smile on his face. Master Hadi must have been starving for he ate it very quickly. I was pleased to see him enjoying my food.
“Did you enjoy it, Master Hadi?” I asked without thinking twice. Never speak unless you were spoken to. I knelt down and asked for forgiveness. He handed me the bowl to my surprise. We were never handed anything directly — items were left for us to pick up. “Yes, I did,” came a soft reply and with that, our time had come to an end.
Before Cook arrived, I scrubbed and cleaned to remove any traces of the stew. There were another two hours left and it was still dark outside. I decided to take a dip in the river. We were allowed one bath weekly and three during hot summer weather — an offer rarely granted to other slaves. Bella and I take turns to wash up in the river, one staying behind in case Lady Frida or Master Hadi required assistance.
I was about to step out of the room when I heard heavy footsteps heading towards the kitchen. My heart sank for it was Cook arriving earlier than I had anticipated. Of course! The princess!, I cursed myself for forgetting the even larger feast we had to prepare for the princess and her entourage. The coals! They had been too hot for me to remove.
“Who cooked here, you filthy dog”!” roared Cook.
Bella must have been waiting in the kitchen already. I walked into the kitchen, prepared for the worst.
“I did. Master Hadi was hung-” before I could finish my sentence, she slapped me hard across my face. My hand flew up to cover my stinging left cheek. Cook had hands of steel after decades of experience in the kitchen. Time must have slowed down for me after that. First, Bella cried, then I heard a hiss and I remembered a sharp pain shooting up my left arm. Cook had picked up a small piece of coal and pressed it onto the left palm.
Bella cursed bravely at Cook in her own language, pushing the large woman away from us. I dropped the coal and steadied my breath to ease the pain. We were interrupted by the ringing bells — Lady Frida and Master Hadi have both summoned us. Bella was still cursing in her mother tongue when I said, “Go to Lady Frida. I’ll go to Master Hadi.”
“Since when do you speak my language?” asked Bella.
“I do?” I asked her back. The pain was occupying my mind and I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. “Hurry, don’t make them wait,” I continued and led the way up the steps. Lady Frida would throw a fit if she found out what Cook had done to me, but we didn’t need another argument in the morning. I walked silently to Master Hadi’s chamber the third time that morning, each step heavier than the one before.
“I need to shave,” he said as I entered his chamber.
“Yes, Master.” I couldn’t recognise my own voice. So many thoughts rushed through my mind. It was going to be difficult with my injured hand. After placing a bowl of water, a clean towel and the sharp blade by the candle in the bath, I waited for Master Hadi to take his seat.
Time must have wanted to play a trick on me. Everything seemed to play out in slow motion again. His footsteps towards me, slow and measured. A pause — hesitation, perhaps? I gestured unthinkingly with my left hand filled with fresh blisters to the chair and turned to my right to pick up the blade. Master Hadi held my wrist and examined the blisters on my open palm, before looking up at my cheek where angry, red streaks must have stared back at him.
“You plan to use your filthy hands on my face?” he roared.
I stood silently. Silly, silly girl, I laughed at myself. I had wanted to believe Master Hadi had examined my wounds with concerned eyes.
“Get out and don’t come back until you’ve cleaned yourself,” he muttered and pointed to the open door.
I ran out with fresh tears in my eyes. For some reason, his words hurt more than the blisters the hot coal had given me.
