Hatshepsut's Heir

By Raven Starr

Twenty years after the mysterious death of Pharaoh Hatshepsut. A rumor floods the land about a lost heir to the throne. A young woman named Femi is kidnapped and her life is thrown into complete chaos when she's sold to Pharoah Hansani. Secrets. Lies. And death surrounds Femi. Does she have what it takes to survive?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Raven Starr
• Release date: Jun 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223180012

Raven Starr

Born in Paris Tennessee Ms. Starr grew up in New London, Connecticut. From an early age, Ms. Starr was drawn to poetry and the flow of words. During middle school, after a childhood friend commits suicide, Mr. Starr penned her first play. The feature was named The Wrong Choice. After the debut, Ms. Starr was asked to be a part of the Thames Valley Council making her the first African American youth to be a part of Thames Valley Council. She kept her position for two years. Ms. Starr has spent time at the acclaimed Eugene O'Neill Theater. It seems like this lady is meant for greatness. Raven loves to dwell in the dark fiction genre and oh how she loves to scare you. If you think you can handle it join us. It's going to be a bumpy ride.

Book preview

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

HATSHEPSUT'S HEIR

First edition. June 24, 2023.

Copyright © 2023 Kipley Skarzynska.

ISBN: 979-8223180012

Written by Kipley Skarzynska.

Table of Contents

Copyright Page

Hatshepsut's Heir

Chapter One

It was a stifling hundred degrees in Aswan, Egypt. Ra’s mighty sun beams pounding on the dry, cracking earth, for most of the day. Hot air blew sand particles across the tops of the young girl’s bare feet. Femi shielded her eyes from the blistering sun to gaze across the powerful Nile. Femi hoped the setting sun would bring an end to the heat. Femi wiped the sweat from her forehead as she glanced toward the Nile. Femi smirked wading into the water in its deeper she dunked her head under the water. Femi held her breath until her lungs craved fresh air. She broke the surface of the cool water and then ran her fingers through her hair. Femi splashed around enjoying a suppression from the heat.

Femi floated on the water her midnight hair formed a wild mane around her. She glanced at the clouds overhead. In the distance, the childish laughter of her younger sister brought joy to her heart. Femi stood up her wet hair cascading down her back. She took a glance at her reflection. Being twenty-one and unmarried brought shame to her father. An image of her father replaced her watery image. She shivered under his hard gaze. Femi waded toward the bank with her linen clinging to her skin. Femi squeezed the water from her dress. The heat forced her into the Nile to soothe her sunbaked skin. Her father’s harsh tone made her heart pound. Why does he hate so? The thought crossed her mind daily. Her father Abasi bellowed again. Abasi was not a kind man his skin weathered from days working in the harsh sun.

Abasi’s deep voice was as rough as his calloused hands. No matter what she did his dark eyes held venom toward her.

Many times, she found herself on the wrong side of his lash. Her back bore the healing marks of her latest discretion. Again, her father yelled for her, and slowly she started home. 

Femi hastened her pace up the hill, so her father did not have to call her once more. She caught up with her baby sister Mesi and chased her playfully into the house. Once inside, she glanced around at the niches on the walls, her eyes pleading with each God and Goddess statue. As always, her gaze ended with the statue of the Goddess Isis. Femi uttered a silent prayer while suppressing her hunger pains, she exhaled looking around at the meager food on the table. There was barely enough to feed all four of them.

Are you going to eat standing up? Absai broke off a piece of stale bread.

No. I’m sorry, Papa.

Absai groaned.

In front of each family member lay a bowl of porridge and the very last of the mutton. The rain refused to pour so the sun baked the crops before harvest. Femi cast her brown eyes up toward her father. He returned her stare with a harsh gaze. The look on his face meant he would take none of her foolishness tonight. Femi clamped her mouth shut, adverting her eyes. 

Femi glanced at her mother, Aziza, who tried to hide her puffy eyes under damp eyelashes.

Aziza’s eyes were happy once but tonight there was something different in her eyes. Has she been crying? Her heart broke for her mother’s unknown sadness.

Her little sister, Mesi smiled happily as she took a bite of her flatbread and gruel. Mesi was a chubby child, with full paunchy cheeks and singing brown eyes. Her nose was small and turned up. Mesi flashed a playful smile when Femi pushed her small portion toward to sister. 

Femi, you must eat, child. Aziza’s voice cracked with emotion.

No, it is fine, Mother. I am not hungry. May I go upstairs? Femi stood up to walk up the cold stone stairs to the second level. But when her foot touched the steps Abasi’s cold voice stopped her in her tracks.

Go to the well and fetch more water for the morning.

Femi exhaled slowly and replied, But Father... she pleaded as she descended the stairs. I gathered enough water this afternoon. See... Femi pointed to two full jugs of water in the corner.

Do not sass me, girl. Now, do as you’re told.

Femi bit her tongue to force the rest of the stupid remarks down her throat.

Femi walked hastily past her father, brushing his pointy elbow, grabbed the empty jug next to the door, and without a second glance she stormed out of the house.

The heat from the day faded but anger heated Femi’s body. She shook uncontrollably. The night breeze felt good against her hot skin. Her bare feet scuffed the ground as she forgot to slip on her sandals before walking outside. Femi glanced up at the starlit sky, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened her eyes to continue her way toward the family. Consumed by happier thoughts Femi didn’t hear the two men sneaking up behind her.

Get the water, Femi. Femi scoffed, kicking at the packed earth under her feet. Empty the night pans. You will never find a husband at the rate you’re going. Femi tried to mimic her father’s stern, husky voice. The desert breeze created small dust devils across the land. Femi tried to shield her eyes from the stinging, flying particles. She counted to ten and then moved her hand. Femi knew this desert better than her. She knew how to bypass the sandstorms and the best places to hide. Femi knew a lot about hiding. She placed the jug on the stonewall. She yawned ned then wiped her weary, dry eyes.

Femi froze when the tiny hairs on the back of her neck tingled. She grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it behind her into the eyes of her attacker. Femi spun around holding the jug high above her head. Get out of here. She threatened.

Grab her. One man said to the other.

She got dirt in my eye.

Useless. The bigger man wrapped his bulky arms around Femi.  

No. She tried to scream but the rough burlap sack muffled her voice. Fear gripped her heart, but she was not going to give up without a fight. Even though the sack blurred her vision, she stamped her foot hard on the kidnapper’s toe.

Stupid girl. The man with the grumbled voice slammed her hard against the wagon. Femi gasped for air. Come closer and tie her up. The man ordered while lifting her off the ground.

No more fight in ya. He spat in her ear.

Femi rammed her forehead against her attacker.

Witch. The man wrapped his hands around her slender throat.

Alive, she must be alive. The second man pulled his friend away.

You’re lucky. He pushed her back in the wagon. The second man grabbed her swinging legs and tied her up.

There. Let’s go. We have a long journey.

Femi used her fingers trying to find some clue about what was happening to her. Within the wooden wagon, each bump made sitting still uncomfortable. Who would a simple girl like her? She wiggled around, rubbing her wrists raw as she tried to free herself. The next bump the sound of jugs clamored. Jugs? I’m in a trader’s wagon.

The burlap fabric rubbed violently against her skin. With every breath, the sack filled her mouth. But Femi was ready to snap at the first pair of fingers that came within distance. She would make those vicious attackers sorry they even tried to kidnap her. The unstable swaying of the cart gnawed at her empty stomach. Her ears filled with the clanging of the vases jostling together as the wagon lurched forward. Rocks of every size thumped the wooden wheels shifting the weight and slamming her from side to side. She did not dare cry out; instead, she dug her nails deeply into her palms until he felt the warm droplets of blood fill her hand. Her mother always told her of young women being captured by thieves in the night. 

Women were sold or traded like bread. She closed her eyes, tears flowed rivers down her face. The innocent laugh of her sister tore at her soul. The thought of never being able to see her mother broke her heart. She clamped her eyes shut, praying this was all a dream she would soon wake from. Femi didn’t want to end up being sold. The thought of never returning to her home terrified her. She turned her mind to surviving this ordeal and returning home.

The burlap sack constricted her breathing, so she took short, shallow breaths, praying to the Gods to spare her life. The course fibers snaked down her throat surely, she would suffocate before they could reach her destination.

Femi struggled with her restraints again, chafing her wrists. This is ludicrous. How distraught her mother would be when she realized her daughter had been dragged away in the night. Femi could imagine her mother’s endless tears replenishing the lands. And what about her stern father, what would his reaction be to her sudden disappearance? She felt his infelicitous eyes glaring at her, even now being stripped from home. Absai would find her at fault for being kidnapped. Femi’s mouth was as dry as the bag over her head.

Femi knew if she didn’t calm herself, she would surely die. She stopped struggling as she focused on her baby’s sister’s laugh. Femi smiled. In her mind’s eye, she chased Mesi around loving the feeling of being loved. Femi didn’t feel love from her father, and she had no understanding as to why. She smelled the sweet aroma of roasting meat. Her stomach growled. Now she regretted not eating the stale bread.

Femi switched her mode of thinking. Again, using her fingers, she pushed on the jugs trying to determine if the jugs were empty or not. Femi allowed herself to go back to before she was kidnapped. She filled the water jugs in the morning so how were the jugs empty? Someone wanted this to happen. Anger rose in her chest at the mere thought of being betrayed by her family. Did Absai plan this? They were family, and she loved them, even her father.

Sadness replaced the anger as Mesi’s cherub-like face appeared in her mind. Mesi, such a sweet, chubby-cheeked girl, her dark eyes wide with wonder. It would be this innocent, loving face she would miss the most.                           

Well, if I am to be someone’s slave, I will never submit. They will have to kill me before they break my spirit. The Goddess Isis watches over me. On pain of death, I shall return home again. Femi whispered to her patron Goddess Isis. A calmness washed over her. The cart jerked to a sudden stop. The movement sent jugs slamming into her already hurting body. Femi grits her teeth together. She exhaled as the two brutes yanked her from the cart. Femi waited for her feet to touch the ground, so she readied her attack. But the slaver traders wised up and carried her off. As her abductors dragged her through the room, her ears tuned into the clacking sounds of dishes. The pungent smell of patchouli made her cough.

Oh, you don’t like that, eh? One of the men moved his hand up her dress to squeeze her rump. Femi wiggled trying to kick his unwanted hand away.

Simmer down you. The man growled in her ear. 

Never, Femi swore valiantly, kicking her legs.

Stupid girl. The man dropped her hard on the packed earthen floor. The fall took her breath away. Femi rolled over on her back. Femi yelped as the burlap sack ripped a clump of her hair. With a shaky hand, she felt her scalp. You vile cretin, Femi yelled kicking at the men.

The men erupted in laughter. Her anger rose again. Femi reared back and kicked the closest man on his shins. The motion sent the man tumbling to the ground. He howled gripping his leg in pain. Once the man recovered, he snatched her by the hair to drag her violently across the floor.

"You have been asking for this punishment, girl. Taste my lash. Learn to behave or nothing good