Queen Of Egypt: The Mummy {The Rise Of Sitre}

03 | THE BIRTH OF A NEW DAWN

Chapter 03; The Birth Of A New Dawn.

9 Months Later.

With the snap of Amun's finger It was past midnight, a carnage ensued. Trees started writhing and flailing, swaying left and right as their groans of pain were carried away by the wind.

The wind screamed like a banshee, uprooting weeds and shrubs in a fit of ever-consuming rage.

It was a very dark new moon night. A night so dark it could swallow up an entire city. But then again, it wasn't just an ordinary night but a special one Egypt held so remarkably; The night when the royal baby is born.

When the clouds rummaged and lightening bolts strikes, a heavy pang struck Sitre at dawn, driving her into labor. Unexpectedly, confusion walked into the palace, driving everyone into a whirlwind.

Like the flash of a nymph, the news flitted across the kingdom like the flurry of the screeching birds.

Everyone from the highest noble viziers, governors, ministers, lieutenants, captains, taskmasters, lords, vassals, ladies, both young and old, feeble to the least slave, held their breath to know the gender of the baby: a heir or an heiress.

Rain hammered the ground, like an impenetrable salvo of slings. Livid black clouds reared up like a cobra readying itself for attack.

They spat lightning mercilessly onto the pitiful scene below, which cut through the sky not unlike burning venom.

At the second wing outside the Queens chambers, a low chant rose softly from a row of prostrated priests, each with a tiny lamp before him, their bald head rocking back and forth as they chanted in a quiet eerie hum.

The sudden outburst of Sitre's voice cut through the priest's prayer. Several of them look at each other frightened, then quickly look back down and resumed chanting and praying for the Queen to have a safe delivery.

From the shadowed columns In the antechamber of Queen Sitre, a low chanting rises softly from the row of prostrated priestesses.

Each with sacred lamp before her, to one side the High Priestess Istra, knelt before a miniature shrine, incensing the idol with a rod-like cup headed censar.

"By Amun-Ra Beloved,.... By Osiris Beloved,..... By Isis Beloved.... Beloved of Hathor,... Beloved of Horus...May the gods bless you as you bring forth their offspring Into this earth realm" The High Priestess said while her followers chanted in a low voice.

Whilst their low murmured incantation continued in the antechamber, the royal midwives were in whirlwind going back and forth.

Some beard spices and others beard antidotes in an open herb boxes. All were in the aid of helping the Queen deliver safely without any complications.

Still in the Queen's bedchamber, behind the silk transparent curtain laid Sitre. She looked worn out, stressed and lifeless. Too weak to conceive. "Arrrrrrrrrggggh" Sitre groaned, gripping the bed sheets tightly, sweating profusely as the contraction held her life.

"Your Majesty breathe" The midwife said positioned herself in front of the Queen mother. Two other midwives stood on either side of the bed, holding the queen's arms, while she pushed.

A midwife holds a wooden tray, on it was a pestle, mortar and flask, also a slave held a golden basin filled with cold water, and the other beard a pile of white napkin sheered with silver and gold.

All eyes were fixated on the Queen, watching how she groaned in pain. A midwife takes a napkin from a slave and deeps it in the golden basin, draping it over Sitre's forehead, so as to ease down her temperature.