Muralsu The sun began to sink from sight, bathing the Cretan landscape in a warm pink glow and blushing the two figures on the terrace. Would he ever get to the point? Every day that went by Muralsu risked him discovering her past which would end their relationship as surely as death itself. She stretched allowing her skirt to fall away revealing to Miah’s sight as much of her long black legs as she dared. He was Pharaoh’s representative on Crete, and though as an Egyptian he was quite used to the sight of nakedness in servants, slaves and poor folk, his views on what was right and proper deportment for a lady were narrow. Muralsu had remained seated whilst he wandered aimlessly about as he talked. At over six foot three and with a hairstyle that deliberately added a further six inches to her impressive height, she would easily dwarf her guest. She was aware her statuesque appearance could easily intimidate, and so it served her purpose at the moment to lie full length, one leg slightly raised, and an arm languidly resting along the back of the couch. She was after all a dancer, a performer, and used her strikingly attractive appearance to charm, captivate, embarrass, or seduce, as circumstances or her whim dictated. She was currently walking a narrow line, for she needed enough sexual allure to captivate her man, but not so much that he would consider her morals loose, and unbefitting in a candidate for a wife. In fact Muralsu had no sexual morals whatsoever if the truth was known, and she had always taken a more than broad earthy pleasure in life. “We have known each other almost a year now,” Miah said. “Is it so short a time? I feel that we have known each other forever. It feels so right to be together, don’t you think?” It was a little forward, but he needed every encouragement. His family thought her an unsuitable match by virtue of the colour of her skin and common ancestry. The fact that she was rich and well connected meant nothing to them. They held good breeding above all else, by which they meant pure Egyptian blood of high birth. Miah’s eyes travelled up those impossibly long legs, the light glistening on the sheen of her skin. He realised that if she moved a fraction more, he would see what good manners dictated he should not – until after they were married. He reluctantly averted his glance and looked at her eyes, colouring slightly, for she had noticed where he had been staring. Her face was high cheeked and slightly angular with the generous mouth of her race, her white teeth bright against the blue-black midnight satin of her complexion. The material slid a little more and his gaze was inevitably dragged back down. She always acted the essence of a lady when she was with him, but she knew that these little accidents, secretly delighted him. Abandoning his earlier excuses and pretences, he visited her almost everyday now. He never invited her to his home, nor did she expect it. She had only visited his house once, and it had been made abundantly clear what his sister and mother thought of her. She had not been even out of earshot when she had heard his sister’s indignant exclamation. “She’s black as a pot!” “Miah you cannot do this,” his mother had added. “You never told me that she was …well Nubian.” Miah had told them he could not see what the colour of her skin mattered, and that she was more a lady than many who owned the title. “Anyway she’s not Nubian,” he had declared. “She is from much further south.” It hadn’t helped. “I will not be related to a savage,” his sister had screamed. Muralsu had left them to it. If they were choking on her race, she wondered what they would do if they found out more of her background. No matter what his family thought however, Miah found her not only extremely alluring in an exotic way, but genuinely enjoyable to be with. She was able to carry on an intelligent conversation on numerous topics, showing a fine grasp of politics and business although she peppered her comments risqué remark or phrase. It was these, and the hints of her passionate nature that both shocked and pleased him. He was too straight laced to even think of her as a mistress, for that would begrime the finer feelings he had for her. On the other hand, as the days passed he needed more and more to satisfy his ardour on a baser level. He had therefore, after much self searching, decided to ask her to wife no matter what his mother and sister thought. After all she was extremely attractive and he was getting no younger. His continued hesitation was through lack of courage, not desire, and so it had continued until his nerves were frayed, and on this visit he was determined to ask her. His courage however, as usual evaporated leaving him prevaricating and confused. Muralsu was finding it difficult to keep the edge out of her voice. She knew she had him on the point of the question. The breeze blew across the terrace and her dress blew further open and she hastily gathered it shut, in case he bolted with embarrassment. However, he had his back to her, leaning on the wall, watching the sea begin to redden, as the sun crept down in the sky, tipping the small waves with fire. He was old, some thirty summers and not particularly good-looking. However, he had certain attractiveness, and was very good company when he forgot to be on his dignity. He could hardly believe that this exotic creature could be interested in him, and yet she had given him every indication in the most proper way. He would not have considered a pushy or forward woman. He only had to stay in Crete a year or two more, and then looked forward to a return to Egypt. What a swathe he would cut through society then with her on his arm. They would not believe it. He could hear them now. “Have you seen what Miah hooked for himself?” “Who would have believed it of him, him of all people?” He knew people thought him stuffy and was aware of the whisperings that went on behind his back. He turned. “Muralsu my dear, I have to go away on some business and, er, there is something I would like to ask you before I leave.” Muralsu smiled. “Yes Miah, do go on.” “I was wondering … that is to say I would like to ask…” Sekhmet’s tits! Damn you, you stupid idiot! Muralsu clenched her jaw as Isis, her maid, came into the room at exactly the wrong moment. She was followed by a small marmoset that rushed across the floor and jumped up onto Muralsu’s shoulders chattering. Usually Muralsu adored the little monkey, but this time she irritably brushed her aside. She nevertheless smiled sweetly and spoke softly in that purring accented voice Miah found so captivating. “Isis you haven’t remembered what I told you.” It certainly was not what she was going to say to the girl later. She had given orders that they were not to be disturbed under any circumstances. Isis however, was not very bright, and at times Muralsu wondered why she kept her. That wasn’t strictly true. She knew very well why she kept the girl. She watched her walk over the warm tiles towards her, her well-rounded breasts bouncing slightly as she walked. The girl was small, a little plump without being fat, and pretty in a girly sort of way. She had only been with Muralsu a week or two, and had not as yet realised why her mistress’s eyes followed her wherever she went. That was something else that Muralsu had to keep from Miah. In fact if she did marry him she would have to dispense with Isis and most of the other girl servants as well. Isis bobbed a little courtesy. “Sorry mistress, I didn’t know what to do.” “About what?” Muralsu did her best to keep the edge out of her voice. She dearly wanted to grab hold of Isis and give her the thrashing she deserved, but Miah would not have approved. “The man, mistress. He said to give you it straight away, no matter what you were doing.” Muralsu could contain herself no more and stood up to berate the girl. “What man? Isis what are you talking about? You have interrupted our guest, who has something important to ask me.” There was the mere accenting of the latter part of the sentence, but it was entirely lost on Isis. “He said it was important too.” “Who was he?” “A man mistress.” Muralsu shut her eyes and took a breath. “Yes Isis, You said that. What man, and what did he give you?” “Just a man, I didn’t know him.” “And?” “Mistress?” Muralsu swallowed the oath that had almost sprung from her lips. “What did he give you girl, or have you come just to annoy me?” “Oh yes, sorry,” she giggled totally oblivious to the fact that her mistress was seething with suppressed anger. “He said give you this, oh dear.” She held something in her hand, but the thong of it had wound around her wrist and become entangled, and it took a moment to untwist it. As Muralsu’s hand stretched out to receive it she suddenly felt the room contract. The blood drained from her face and a hollow chasm seemed to gape in her stomach. She took a step back and almost collapsed in the chair from which she had just risen. “My dear, are you all right?” She felt Miah’s arms around her shoulder as the intense feelings began to abate. “Quickly,” he said, “get your mistress some water.” Some moments later a little recovered, Muralsu gave Miah a little smile, it vanished as she looked at Isis. “You may go Isis. I will speak to you later.” Miah had returned to a polite distance. “What is it my dear, you looked quite shocked?” Muralsu forced herself to look at what still lay in her hand; there was no doubt about it. She tried to thrust away her thoughts and concentrate on Miah . “I stood up a little too quickly, and felt a little faint that is all.” She waived the thing in her hand. “This is nothing my dear.” She threw it on the table by her. “A tinker’s cheap pendant. They get up to all sorts of tricks to get past the servants. Isis is I’m afraid not the brightest girl.” “Yes, but she’s quite sweet and pretty. That why I like coming here my dear, most of your servants seem to be pretty girls.” He was beginning to mellow under her influence. When she first knew him, Miah would never had said such a thing. “Miah!” she said trying to sound shocked. “I’m surprised at you. I hope that is not the only reason you come. You were saying you had something to ask me.” “I er … well yes. We have known each other some little time and er … the thing is that I feel that … I have to leave the island on business and will be gone several months possibly even a year.” Muralsu was genuinely surprised. “Oh no Miah. What will I do with you gone? But what has this to do with what you wish to ask me?” “I wanted to … to … when I return I thought that … but now is not a good time, I am expected home.” Muralsu was not about to let him get away, despite being distracted by thoughts of what lay on the table. She slid from the couch and stepped up beside him and perched on the low wall so as not to tower over him. She gave him her best hurt and defenceless look. “I wish that we did not need to part for you to go home. The sun is not as bright with you gone. Come, you cannot be so cruel as to let a girl wonder. What did you wish to ask? I can deny you nothing.” He looked into her eyes, warm and dark, his courage fluttered weakly. “When I return I will have something important to ask you, but now is not the time as who knows what dangers a journey may hold.” This time she stood up and stepped close and kissed him. She felt him resist for the first split second, and then he clumsily took hold of her and pressed himself against her. They broke apart. “Miah, I’m sorry, it was most unbecoming of me. Please forgive me, it was merely your talk of danger and parting, I quite forgot myself.” She took a few paces away and glanced back hoping that her bold tactic might have given him the courage to speak out. She suppressed a smile for he was standing motionless almost as if in a trance. “Miah? Miah am sorry, I should not …” “No, It is alright, I … marry me.” The two words rushed out before he could recall them. He looked stunned, shocked as if he had sworn some vile oath before her. He recovered himself. “That is to say that … if you would consider …” She freed him from his misery. “Oh Miah! Yes, yes of course. I though that you would never ask.” He still looked flustered at his own embarrassment. “You will? By Ra’s boat who would have believed it? You will?” She laughed nodding and held out her hands for him to take. He spoke of arrangements and guests to invite but having secured what she wanted, Muralsu’s mind fixed on what lay on the table and she only listened with half of her attention. “So it is agreed then,” he said. “I will see you on my return, and we shall be married. I must go now but will count the days to my return.” He hesitated and then gave her a proprietary kiss on the cheek and hurried away. Despite the momentous event, the culmination of much work and stratagems, the horror of what lay on the table absorbed her whole attention now and Miah faded into the background. The small blue pendant, seemingly innocent, was full of darkness and meaning. Eventually she managed to pluck up enough courage to pick it up in shaking fingers. She held it to the light and examined it closely. There was no doubt that it was the real thing. She threw it down again as if it were red hot and shuddered. “Asif! Asif!” She ran to the doorway a shouted again urgently, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. Isis came running, but Muralsu gestured her away with her arm. “Not you, you idiot. Get Asif quickly.” He came into the room his stick urgently tapping out his steps. He was old, just how old nobody knew. Occasionally Muralsu wondered whether he was younger than he looked, and at others she considered him older than he seemed. He was an enigma who had now been with her since her company was first formed all those years ago. He was obviously educated and intelligent, an artist and storyteller, but would have all believe that he was a silly old fool. That was something the years had taught her he was not. “There, on the table, look.” Muralsu pointed, but would not look towards it. Asif picked up the pendant and examined it turning it over. He looked up from under his bushy brows. “A cheap pendant, an amulet maybe. Nothing special.” “Nothing special! It’s hers. She sent it. How can that be Asif? She is dead.” Asif had never seen her so frightened and upset before. In the past she had faced the possibility of death and even torture without showing fear. In fact such threats seemed only to breed defiance and arrogance in her. Yet now at the sight of a common piece of jewellery she was shivering with terror. He took a step towards her, “What is there to fear?” She backed away. “Keep it away Asif. Put it down.” She showed the whites of her eyes as she spoke, her jaw clenched. Asif placed the pendant back on the table and crossed over to Muralsu taking her arm, and sitting her next to him on the day couch. “Tell me why this upsets you.” “Upsets me? It’s hers, don’t you remember? It’s hers.” A thought struck her. “Of course, you do not know, nobody knows but she. That’s the point.” She swept the sweat from her face with one hand. “By Seth, Asif what am I to do?” He patted her leg paternally. “Nothing, nothing for the moment. We will take a drink, talk of other things and when you are calmer we will set this right.” He stood up and went to the wine cooler that was empty. Tutting he summons Isis and had it replenished. “So did our gallant guest manage to ask you to marry him at long last, or did he flee again?” They talked for a while about Miah and marriage, and Muralsu calmed down, although Asif noticed the furtive glances in the direction of the table. When he thought her sufficiently recovered he said. “Tell me, plainly, what is the significance of the pendant, and why should it so frighten you.” Muralsu smoothed down the folds of her dress whilst thinking of what to say. “It is a very personal and urgent summons, very personal. It is a secret only known to two people Asif.” She hesitated, and he prompted her. “And why should that fill you with dread?” “It is a message from Queen Nefertiti herself. Nobody else could have sent it.” “But she has been dead for years Blackbird. Someone else must have known about it.” She shook her head. “No, Asif, she would have told nobody. That was what we agreed. That is why even you did not know of it. Nobody was told, for it was our code to tell me that the Queen personally was in danger. It summonses me, and only me. … Asif, it is … from beyond the grave,” The firmness of her voice had trailed off like a dying breath. “Do you believe that she can summons you from beyond this life? Could not someone else have found it and perhaps sent it without knowing the full significance?” She looked at him, her voice stronger now as her courage began to return. “You never met her Asif. To summon me from the afterlife in the West would be nothing to such as she. Asif, I dread answering the spirits of the dead. You know how I feel about such things. I know it happens; even that Serohia woman came back from the dead. These things are possible” “Let us examine things like we always have Blackbird. Either the pendant has been sent by some living person who may or may not fully comprehend its meaning, or the dead Queen has sent it, as she requires your service. If Egyptian religious beliefs are right the latter is not beyond a possibility.” Muralsu looked at him. “You’re not helping Asif.” “She was your friend and benefactor during your life, why should you fear harm from her now, though she be dead?” Their discussion went on for some time and ended without a satisfactory conclusion.