The Egyptian Ladybug and her Chat

Chapter 1

"Yes, Papa!" I called.

I carried a bag of wheat into the bakery, then poured half of it into the mortar.

"Marinette! Please take the wheat to the storehouse that way the rats don't get to it," My mother called.

I quickly tied the top of the bag then put it in the storage room into a special vault made of stone that had a very heavy lid. No rats could get in that!

Then I ran back upstairs and took out the long wooden pole with the stone at the end. I began to ground the wheat into flour, swatting at the flies. I reminded myself I needed to get some scents to burn and keep the flies out. The old ones were getting...well, old.

After I finished the flour, I sifted it into a bowl, then put the excess back into the mortar to ground again later.

I brought the bowl to Papa, who was putting bread into the oven. I ran to another oven, and pulled out two loaves of bread, setting them to cool.

I wiped my face with a towel and dusted off my long dress.

Egypt was almost always hot in the days, and cool at night, but now it was the end of October. As soon as November came, the days would be wonderfully cool. But the nights would get colder...I'd need to see about getting some more blankets.

I grabbed some bread that had cooled and brought it to the front where the store was. I set it on display on a shelf.

Suddenly, the door opened, and I turned to find a young girl come in, "Good afternoon, Melen!" I said brightly, smiling at my friend.

"Morning Marinette. How are you this afternoon?" Melen asked.

"Hot as always, but otherwise good. Just doing chores. Has your Father been to the palace lately?"

Melen smiled, "Yes. Pharaoh was quite pleased with his last performance."

"I'm glad," I said, "How many loaves will you be wanting today?"

"Three."

I grabbed three from the shelf, and she slid me six coins. I gave her the bread, and she slipped it in her basket.

"Good to see you!" She called as she walked out.

I waved back at her, then slipped the money into a jar in the hidden drawer. As I walked outside my friend Alya ran to me, "Marinette!"

I smiled, "Alya!" Alya was a sixteen-year-old girl with long brown hair. As the fashion was, we wore our hair up and ebony wigs over them. But today Alya had her hair down for all to see.

To be fair though so did I. Her long dress was almost identical to mine, and her chocolate brown eyes danced with laughter.

We hugged, then began walking as we talked. We'd been neighbors for almost a year now since she came.

"So, how was the market?" I asked.

"Busy as always. The Prince's caravan passed through. He's apparently back from the visit to Libya. I hear he's brought a girl with him."

"I hope she's kind. If he plans to marry her, I would not want to fall under the rule of an evil queen like the kingdom of Mali. I hear that none may be more beautiful than the queen, or they are put to death!"

"Well, Prince Adrien has been nothing but kind, but who knows. Even the good apples can rot," Alya said.

I nodded.

We came around the side of my house where a big garden was. This was mine and Alya's. We were proud to have the tastiest fruits and vegetables in all of Egypt.

We sat down beside a trellis of beans and began to weed. After that, we moved to five large trees.

"I think the figs will be ready to pick soon," I said.

"I hope so! Then we can have some of your famous fig jam!" Alya said.

"You mean so you can. You always eat them all before we can get any," I laughed.

Alya held up her hands, "Guilty!"

...............................................................................

"Girls, close the cellar doors, please," Mrs. Cesair said.

Ella and Etta, Alya's little twin sisters, quickly closed the cellar doors, leaving us in darkness.

Mrs. Cesair lit a few candles, illuminating the room, "Good, now we can begin."

Me and Alya took out papyrus, writing utensils, and a few scrolls.

The little girls started writing their letters while me and Alya wrote words in seven different languages including Egyptian, Latin, Greek, French, Parisian, Arabic, Syrian, and one that I could never remember the name of.

In Egypt, it was illegal for girls to learn to read and write, but Alya's family came from a place where it was okay.

So, to keep up their education, Mrs. Cesair taught them, and Alay had her teach me too.

She had obviously been impressed with how fast I learned. Now, as we practiced in the dim light, she said, "Alya, Marinette...I have a favor to ask. I need you to teach the little ones. It's becoming more and more suspicious for me to be gone so long. It'd be better for your girls. I know we have Nora as a lookout for us, but I know she doesn't approve. She doesn't want you learning any more than necessary," She sighed.

"Of course we'll teach them, Mrs. Cesair," I said.

"We'll take care of it, Mama," Alya said.

Mrs. Cesair looked relieved, "Good. Thank you two."

Me and Alya smiled.