The Blind Prince: Chapter 1

Soft hands moved over the marble counter slowly, searching patiently for the piece of papyrus that lay somewhere on the surface. My fingers touched on it finally, and calmly took up the papyrus. I looked blindly across the room, listening for the sounds of my guard. I heard the man’s footsteps across the rug, and I held out the papyrus. I was unable to read the hieroglyphics, so wished him to read them to me. I heard his footsteps draw closer, and sensed his hand being stretched out, the papyrus was taken from my open hand and I heard the gentle crinkling sound it made as the man unrolled it. After a second his voice was heard, the familiarly warm strong voice making me smile. Hamadi was not only my guard; he was my best friend and the one who understood me best. He knew my wishes without me having to speak, and he never asked of anything in return for what he gave to me – he gave me protection, friendship and care. He was paid to protect me, but he wasn’t getting paid for being my friend.

“Your father wishes you to attend the banquet tonight.” He told me in his warm voice, he placed the papyrus back onto the marble surface and I felt him touch my hand with his own. His skin was soft and smooth against mine, and comforting. He knew I hated being in the public eye, at such events I usually was because I was prince.

“Thank you, ‘Adi. Will you come with me?” I responded a few moments after, hating the sound of my weak voice compared to his strong commanding voice.

“Of course.” His hand moved from above my own, instead coming to rest on my cheek. I relaxed under the touch, lids falling down over my blind eyes. My long thick lashes sent shadows down my cheeks. He removed his hand quickly, and took a more formal stance. “Is there anything you need?

“Then you should get changed, Kota. I will return to take you to the banquet.” He spoke after I shook my head.

I felt him move away, hearing the beaded curtain rattle as he left my chamber. I rose carefully from my seat, knowing my chamber well enough to find my way to the wardrobe. I reached out, finding the handle of the wardrobe in my grasp within moments. I pulled it open gently, running my hand down the various garments slowly. I stopped as I found a cotton loincloth, feeling the silk that ran down the front of it and along the hem. I pulled out this garment, moving over to where I knew my bed was and laying the robe down on it. I undressed slowly, lifting the thin but comfortable cotton robe over my head and letting it fall to the floor. It was a warm afternoon, and the thin material was sufficient. I pulled the cloth up to my hips, fastening it a little tighter to fit my small frame.

I pondered for a few moments why my father would ask me to the banquet, being the son of the Pharaoh I was more than entitled to attend the banquets but being blind I would not be able to see the dancing or entertainment. Hamadi would explain to me, of course, but maybe that would ruin his night. I sighed quietly, touching over the desk again and finding the small blocks of carved wood. Hieroglyphs had been carved into each one; I picked up one and ran my finger along the lines. I made the shape in my head, recognising it as two feathers. It had been a long time since I had used these, already having learnt the basics of the Egyptian language. Hamadi had taught me, and he made a wonderful teacher. He was always patient, and never became angry if I failed to understood or answered wrongly. My father had once hired me a tutor, that didn’t turn out well. The man had been inpatient and expected me to understand immediately. I remembered that he’d used something to hit me for punishment, I hadn’t even realised Hamadi had been in the room until he had started shouting at the man. It hadn’t hurt so much, but it had shocked me. I had never been hit before, and hadn’t expected to be hit by someone I barely knew. I never saw my tutor after that, and only a few days passed before Hamadi began teaching me again.

I had not always been completely blind, I had never had clear vision but until a few years ago I was able to see colour and shapes. My sight had worsened gradually to complete blackness. I remembered Hamadi would always clean and bathe my eyes to try and help this. He worked on my memory of my surroundings to describe the colour of clothes or other items. He would tell me things were the colour of the pillars outside my room, or the colour of the pyramids. I would understand then, for I would always remember those huge structures clearly.

I was distracted from my thoughts when the beaded curtain rattled and I heard footsteps towards me, I heard Hamadi’s voice behind me. He moved over to where I sat, I heard him pick up something from the desk, soon realising it was a comb when he began to stroke the item through my slightly tangled long strands of black hair. Soon the knots were cleared, and the hair spilled freely over my shoulders and down my back, I touched at the soft strands gently. I heard the comb being set back down; I turned around and peered up to where I presumed he stood. I thanked him quietly; letting him slide some bangles onto my wrists, I shivered at the cold feel of them against my skin. He then lifted something heavy around my neck, attaching it carefully. I put a hand to the front of it, feeling it was embedded with gems and made of gold. He moved away briefly, I heard something metallic clanking together, I stood still as he fixed something relatively heavy around my waist. It helped to keep the cloth in place and when I touched it I felt the familiar feel of gold and gems, I almost forgot the splendour I lived in. It had been so long since I attended a banquet it would take me a while to adjust to this finery. I usually just wore simple clothes, but being a prince I had to look smart for the banquet, even if I couldn’t see how I looked. My shoulders sagged slightly under the weight of the jewellery around my neck, I quickly straightened my posture once I realised this. He took up my hand lastly, sliding one ring onto my index finger before letting go.

“There, your father would have been angry if you had turned up looking like a peasant. Are you ready to go?”

I felt his firm hand on my arm after I nodded in the affirmative; I let him lead me out of the chamber, taking my hand instead to guide me down the hall. Having left the safety of my chamber I felt lost in the corridor and relied on him to lead me around. The hall was large, I could tell that much by the way Hamadi’s voice reverberated around it. I extended a hand, feeling the columns against my fingers and the hieroglyphs etched into the stone. He walked slowly to allow me to get my bearings, speaking all the while to assure me of his presence. He slowly let go of my hand, I panicked for a moment before realising I could easily follow his voice. I heard a harp being played beautifully, as we walked it gradually became louder and clearer. I loved the sound of a harp; it was like artwork to the blind. Such a beautiful sound; however I did not know of this tune. Hamadi took hold of my hand again and lead me to the side, a felt a thin veil curtain brush my shoulder and I knew we were in the banquet room. Hamadi had explained before it was a huge room and to the end it was open to the whole of Egypt, displaying the beautiful dark skies. He told me the walls were painted brightly and in the midst of the room there was a small lake, where blue lotus flowers grew in abundance. I could smell their beautiful perfume from where I stood now. I heard the buzz of people and yet it seemed to grow quiet as my guard helped me down the steps. I felt my face going slightly red from embarrassment, I followed Hamadi’s slow pace perfectly to stop myself tripping on the steps. Eventually my feet touched on flat ground, and clasped onto my guard’s hand tighter until I heard my father’s voice. I could hear and feel the people around me and I did not want to get separated from Hamadi. He guided me across the hall, setting me down near the lake, I knew because I could smell the lotus flowers. I knelt down on the marble, hearing the rustle of fabric as he sat beside me.

“Would you like a flower, ‘Ota?” he asked, it was not often he called by the shortened name, but I did prefer it. I nodded slightly, feeling him press the wet blossom into my open hand a few moments later.

“It smells nice.” I murmured after bringing the lotus to my nose. I held it lightly in my hand, fingers stroking lightly over the damp petals.

The night passed slowly, and I waited quietly from my place at the lake as the music sounded and dancing took place. I loved the music; the sound of the harp was wonderful to my ears. The wine I had been given had made me slightly drowsy, and after a couple of hours I was more than ready to sleep. I leant my head onto my guard’s shoulder; he stayed still and allowed me to rest there. The music and festivities eventually died down. I felt my lids dropping over my eyes, having to lean heavier on Hamadi’s shoulder to stay upright.

“You’re tired, Kota.” He muttered over the low buzz of the last remaining people. “I shouldn’t have let you drink so much either.”

“I’m fine.” I shook my head, struggling a little to stand even with his assistance. I still clutched the flower in my hand, though now it did not really resemble a lotus.

He clasped onto my wrist to keep me upright, having to tighten the grip as I started to lower myself back down. Wordlessly he placed both hands on my waist and hoisted me up, holding me against his chest. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, my legs tightening around him to avoid falling as he started to walk. The steady pace he walked at made me even drearier, I fell asleep without even fighting.

I woke slightly as I was set down on the cold sheets of my bed; I shuddered lightly and tightened my grip around his shoulders. His body was warm and I wanted him to stay. He ducked out from my arms, pulling the white blankets over my small frame quickly and tucking my arms down against the sheets. He placed a hand on my forehead and smiled, he seemed amused as he spoke.

“Try to sleep, I’ll be here in the morning when you have a headache and feel sick.”

“Thank you.” I responded dully, turning over onto my side and pushing my already aching skull into the pillows. I still felt cold, and whined for him quietly. “I’m cold, ‘Adi. Hold me?”

“As you wish.” I heard him move and felt the mattress lower as his weight was added. He put an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. I instantly felt warmer, and placed my cheek against his strong chest. I always felt safe in his arms. He began to stroke through my hair with gentle fingers. “Better?”

“Yes. Thank you,” I murmured to him, adding to my words a few moments later. I realised I’d never thanked him for everything before; I acknowledged everything he did for me though. “For everything.”

“I’ll always be here.”

“I know. And-”

“Sleep.” He cut me off with this single firm word, I felt him tuck the blanket around me carefully and I gave in to much-needed sleep.