Flash Fiction: Kandake

Copyright © JJ Dobor 2020

Kandake paused on the threshold. Behind her the sun-baked village sprawled in the heat of the morning, her home for the fourteen years of her life. Before her, in the cool chamber, stood the man who would be her husband. Not a marriage of love, nor one of convenience, instead the consequence of generations of war and political conniving.

Remnants of her breakfast remained stuck in her throat, refusing to go down, making her wish for a sip of sweet water from the well. Although out of sight, Kandake could hear the whispers of her mother and aunts, and the grunts of her soon-to-be mother-in-law, as they awaited their summons in the cool shade of the Acacia tree.

A firm nudge in the small of her back propelled Kandake forward. She tilted her head of neat plaited coils, decorated with colourful beads, and inhaled, straightening her shoulders. She pulled her belly tight and with a gentle sway of her hips entered the room, her bare feet whispering on the floor as she walked.

Dark faces crowded the shadows of the curved wall, their voices a baritone thrum, amplified by the rush of blood in her ears as both fear and excitement churned within her. Natek, her betrothed, stood in the centre of the chamber, tall and fearsome in his ceremonial regalia, his dark skin gleaming in the shaft of sunlight cast from the doorway.

Kandake avoided his eyes, lowering her gaze to his feet, also bare and coated in fine dust, his ankles adorned with ceremonial beadwork. She took her place, petite beside the bulk of him, and pressed her sweating palms against the firm flesh of her naked legs, the tips of her fingers caressing the soft weave of the cloth which concealed her femininity from inquisitive eyes.

Silence fell, except for a few shuffles and a stifled cough, the atmosphere thick with heat and anticipation.

Natek stepped forward and tapped his staff on the earthen floor. Kandake knew what to do, her duty engrained in her since girlhood. She stepped up to him, her elbow touching his, every muscle in her body taut.

Natek handed the staff to an elder, removed his gold necklet, and turning to Kandake placed it around her neck, his thumbs caressing the soft ebony skin of her elegant neck. A shiver trickled across her flesh and her breath caught in her throat as their eyes met.

Natek brought his arm about her waist and drew her against him as he guided her to the doorway beyond which the villagers and travellers from across the kingdom gathered, their ululation rising to a high-pitched howl as they thronged to greet their King and his bride, the Queen, Kandake.