The Prince's Punishment

Chapter Two

Eshe’s PoV

I could feel the rays of a thousand suns upon my back as I walked across the desert lands of Egypt. The sun shone brightly over head as I walked the hot sands of time towards the temples to finish my work. It didn’t pay very much but any little bit helped to put food on the table for me and my family. I was not the bread winner of my family but I was forced to work as all the other women and children were.

We lived in times of poverty, where a scrap of bread was nothing to feed a family of four or even a family of two. The royals cared for no one but themselves and their own families if they even showed an ounce of care for them.

I wiped the back of my hand across my brow wiping the sweat that dripped down from the immense heat. I longed to be free of this life but I knew that would not happen in my lifetime. We were ruled by a greedy Pharaoh who drove us to work day and practically night, all he wanted were monuments and temples built in his name, he didn’t care for the well being of his subjects. No, he could care less about what happened to us. We were replaceable to him. When one of us died, another slave was born and because we populated most of Egypt, he passed the rule of killing all the first born for fear that one day the slaves would overrule him. My brother was lucky to have survived such a horrid and cruel rule. My mother had our uncle keep us safe far from the Pharaoh’s soldier’s grasp. They knew my mother had children but she was a very good liar and told them she had a daughter instead of a son and that she was older than an infant and therefore, they were not able to touch her. She fibbed by saying our father took her down to the Nile to wash while she stayed home and made dinner. The guards seemed to have believed her.

I sighed softly as I remembered the story of that day as if it were just yesterday. I knew my mother was fearful for my brother and my safety, I didn’t blame her. Who knew what evil the Pharaoh Runihura would come up with next? I shook my head running my fingers through my long thick black hair and tossing it behind my shoulder and pulling out a leather tie from my wrist and pulled my hair into a slightly neater style. It was the best I could do with what I had; at least it would leave my face while I worked.

I grabbed a pitcher and walked over to the well to grab some water. “Hello Eshe how is your family doing?” I looked up to see a familiar face of an elder woman who often spoke to me each time I visited the well. “Hello, they are fine thank you. How is your husband, I heard he was ill?”

The old women sighed and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She was nearing her seventies and they still had her working like an over hauled ox. “He passed on to the next world. The illness was just too strong for his weak body.” I placed a hand upon her shoulder. “I am sorry to hear that. It is truly a shame that someone as wonderful as he had to pass. If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know.” She smiled up at me and I could tell I had made her day.

“Thank you Eshe. You truly are a gift from the Gods.” I smiled back at her. “Thank you. May I have some water?” “Of course my child, have your fill.” I grinned wide and held up the pitcher as she poured the cool water filling the pitcher up to the brim. “Thank you so much. I shall see you later. I better get going before one of the guards comes looking for me.” “Be well.”

I waved her off as I headed back towards my part of the temple where I made pottery and sometimes when I was up for it, I used to draw the hieroglyphs for the other workers who weren’t as fortunate with their drawing skills as most of the ones who did them. I took a quick drink of the water, the feeling of it cooling down my dry sticky throat.

I could only bask in that glorious moment for a few short seconds before I was yelled at by one of the guards.“You there slave girl! You’ve had your break, get to work!” I sighed placing the pitcher down and grabbed one of the unfinished pots and began to build onto it, sticking my hands into the hot mud that made up most of our things.

My once gentle hands were filled with callous and busted blisters from my hours and days of constant work with little breaks to be had. My mother constantly medicated my hands to the best of her ability with what little we had but the labor was harsh on a woman’s hands and her features. They say the labor causes us to age a lot quicker than normal.

I’ve noticed it more in the men, though they have it a lot harder than us women. They slave away carrying large straw bulks, bricks and stones on their backs. They are constantly whipped if they are dragging on too slow or they are not doing it correctly. I couldn’t bear the thought of having my back constantly slashed at for something that was not my fault. If those soldiers only knew how much those things weigh, they’d know that one man alone would falter under the weight of such heavy things but of course, they are the lucky ones and do not need to do what we do every day. They get to stand with a whip in hand and pretend to be God.

One day, one day this would all change and all the slaves would be set free with plenty to eat and they would not have to worry about such an evil ruler. I smiled at the thought.

Yes, one day this nightmare would all be over, I just hope that I am alive to see it all unravel. “Stop day dreaming and get to work!” I blinked and shook my head hearing the loud shout of a guard giving me a daring look as if telling me I dare you to give me a reason to strike you good. “I’m sorry.” He huffed loudly with a sneer and walked off once he was convinced that I was starting my work.

The nerve of some guards, we are people too! If only they too could feel what we do. Then, I know they would not treat us as they do. My hands worked skillfully around the pot adding to its unfinished body. I swiped my forearm across my forehead as beads of sweat dripped down the sides of my face. The heat was becoming intense and it was just morning. I could tell it was going to be one of those days again.

I grabbed the pitcher of water and poured a bit over my head and took a quick sip, and getting back to work before one of the guards came around again. Hours passed since my last break and I had already made five more pots along with a large rounded bowl. I decided to wash up my hands and head on to the next thing on my work list. I wandered the palace’s corridors searching for my friend Sabyn.

After, a few moments of searching and getting lost I was able to find her. “There you are. I have been looking all over for you.” She turned to me and smiled and I could see a fresh wound against her cheek, this pained my heart. I sighed and reached up to gently caress her cheek. “Don’t worry Eshe. It was my fault it happened. I dropped the bowl of fruit on the Pharaoh. It was a faulty made one and I paid the price.”

My brows furrowed at her response. “That does not give him the right to strike you for something that was not your fault. You didn’t make the bowl, Sabyn.” She moved away from my hand and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry. Let us get to work before we are whipped.” I nodded my head and turned to the wall where she had left off on painting over the pictures that were already drawn on for her.