Authors: Pauline Gedge
Tags: #Kings and rulers, #Egypt, #General, #Historical, #Fiction, #Egypt - History
Itu was swaying, her eyes swollen. Huy kissed her, hugged Hapzefa, and together they moved across the floor and out under a star-strewn sky, following the circle of light Huy had taken from Merenra until they came to the watersteps, where Huy’s barge rested almost without motion.
“The river’s level has sunk even more,” Ishat remarked. “The ramp now sits on the second-to-last waterstep.” She kissed her mother, and she and Huy watched as the family straggled over the ramp and onto the deck. The sailors seemed to flit like wraiths as they took their stations. After a moment the bearers appeared, bowing to Huy as they too entered the barge. The litter was kept on board.
“Thank you!” Itu called as the ramp was run in and the oars hit the turgid water. The barge swung out, the sailors soon pulling against the north-flowing current, and before long it was lost to view.
Huy took Ishat’s hand and lifted the lamp so that its glow fell on her face. “It was a very pleasant day,” he said quietly. “Did you enjoy yourself, Ishat?”
She smiled sleepily. “More than I thought I would. And you seem to have resolved your differences with your father. They can come again soon, can’t they, Huy?”
“As often as they like. Heby might as well continue his swimming lessons with Anhur until school commences again. I suppose Anhur has gone to his cot.”
“Hentis ago.”
They began to wander back to the house. Presently Ishat withdrew her hand. “Huy, you called me your dearest sister tonight,” she said, looking away from him into the gloom of the acacia hedge. “It is what a lover calls his beloved. How did you mean the words?”
“I remembered our early days together, and how hard you strove to care for me,” he answered sadly. “My heart filled with the love for you I have always felt, Ishat.”
“But not … that kind of love.”
There are times when I hate you with a terrible purity of emotion, Atum Neb-er-djer,
Huy thought savagely,
and this is one of those moments. You are cruel in your commands and implacable in seeing your will fulfilled. Even if I desired Ishat as I continue to crave Anuket, any attempt to make love to her would be useless.
“No,” he replied shortly. “If I could sacrifice my soul to make this one thing different, I would. But I can’t. Atum has made sure of that.” He did not try to keep the bitterness out of his voice, and they re-entered the house in silence, climbing the stairs and parting. Ishat closed her door behind her without bidding him good night.
Even though the hour was late, Tetiankh stood waiting by Huy’s couch, a bowl of steaming water and a dish of natron beside him on the table. At the sight of him, Huy felt all at once exhausted. Pulling off his kilt, unhooking the jewellery from his ear, he slumped into his chair and allowed his body servant to wash the cosmetics from his face, cleanse and briefly massage his feet and hands, and comb and rebraid his hair. In answer to the man’s raised eyebrows, he shook his head. “I don’t need any poppy tonight,” he said. “My head is fine. Let me wake naturally tomorrow, Tetiankh. When I need you, I shall call.”
Bidding him rest well, Tetiankh took away the scummed water and cloths, shutting the door just as the night guard was passing along the corridor. Huy heard the two exchange cheerful greetings.
The soldiers and servants are beginning to mix well,
he thought as he eased himself onto his sheets.
That’s good. I wish a little air would move through my wind catcher. It’s too still out there tonight. Perhaps we should be sleeping on the roof.
His eyes closed.
Late the following morning, after spending a longer than usual time standing on the stone slab in the bathhouse while he gradually returned to full consciousness under Tetiankh’s deluge of cold water, Huy went in search of Ishat. He found her pacing impatiently in the office.
“I’ve been up for hours and hours,” she accused him, “and here are two sealed scrolls delivered just after dawn I’ve been desperate to unroll. One is from Thothmes. I recognize the insignia of his father’s sepat. The other is from Ra’s temple at Iunu. I couldn’t open them without your permission, of course. Gods, Huy, your hair hasn’t been oiled yet, and you need to be shaved!”
“Don’t nag me, woman!” He took the letters she was holding out to him, and to tease her he broke the temple seal first. The familiar hand of High Priest Ramose’s scribe leapt up at him. “‘To my dear erstwhile pupil, the Seer Huy, greetings, ’” he read aloud. “‘You have asked that the services of one kitchen servant, Amunmose, be transferred to you, subject to the young man’s agreement. I vaguely remember that he accompanied you to Khmun on one of your journeys to Thoth’s temple there. Amunmose is more than eager to join your household in whatever capacity you desire, indeed he has been dogging my steps at every turn, begging to be released, since your request arrived. Therefore, you may expect his arrival within a day or two of receiving these words. May you have joy of him! Ever your friend, Ramose, High Servant of the Majesty of Ra.’”
Ishat snatched the scroll from Huy. “Amunmose sounds like rather a nuisance,” she said waspishly. “You are so mean, Huy! What does Thothmes say?”
Huy cracked the seal with its hawk imprint and unrolled it, scanning the scroll quickly. “It’s very short. He simply says that he will arrive at the end of Mesore and is able to stay with us for several weeks.”
Ishat clapped her hands. “That’s four days away! Oh, I am so pleased! Now go and finish your morning ablutions, and then Anhur wants to go over the roster of guard watches for the coming month.”
Huy handed the scrolls back to her. “Make copies as usual and file these,” he ordered her. “Ishat, when I’ve finished with Anhur, I want to talk to you about a suggestion my father had. Meet me under the shade of the front portico.” He left the office with a heart both lighter, because he longed to see his friend, and somewhat apprehensive. Was Thothmes still attracted to Ishat? Would he, Huy, find himself a jealous spectator, as before? He shook off the small cloud of unease and returned to where Tetiankh was still tidying the bathhouse.
Later, sitting on cushions within the protection of the blessed shadow cast by the portico, their backs against the house wall and eyes narrowed against the fierce glare beyond, Ishat listened while Huy told her of his father’s suggestions.
“It all seems very sensible,” she said when he had finished. “I don’t know why we didn’t think of these things before. I’ve been luxuriating in gems and linens and thoroughly enjoying myself, and I haven’t wanted to look into the future. But I see the dangers.” She turned towards Huy. One bead of sweat began to trickle down her temple and she brushed it away.
Her hands are becoming softer,
Huy thought, watching the careless gesture.
The colour of her skin is paler. She is losing the dark stigma of the peasant who is forced to spend too much time under the sun. I suppose I am also
.
“Ask Hapu what land is available, Huy. Let him do this favour for you. It would be a good idea to approach Mayor Mery-neith as well. He’ll know what acres around Hut-herib have gone khato.”
“But khato land reverts directly to the King. He controls its disposition. Will I seem ungrateful, asking his permission and using his gold to buy it?”
“Giving back to him something that was his?” Ishat responded promptly. “Surely he will applaud such thrift! Aren’t we Egyptians famous for our canny dealings as well as our piety?” She leaned closer. “You’re afraid to incur his displeasure, aren’t you, Huy? So am I. I imagine losing all we have, and I am terrified. But to go on relying on His Majesty’s good graces is terrifying also. Your father is right. Kings can be unpredictable and none dare to oppose them. Let’s take the gamble.”
But if we lose, and cause the King offence, my supply of poppy will dry up,
Huy thought.
That I cannot risk.
“What of his other suggestion?” he said aloud. “Egypt trades with Keftiu and Alashia, we bring in gold from Kush and incense from Karoy to the south. Both commodities belong to the King and the temples, but what else comes into the country with the caravans?”
“I don’t know, but Merenra can find out. He talks to other stewards. Are we agreed on this, Huy? Of course, I’m no more than your scribe and the final decision is yours, but it would set our hearts at ease.”
Huy chuckled. “You have a much better grasp of such matters than I, and you know it, Ishat! After the sleep we’ll draft a letter to Mery-neith and tell Merenra to make his inquiries.”
“Should you talk to your uncle? Investing with him would entail no risk to us. Everyone who can afford them wears his perfumes, and he is one of the few suppliers of the sacred kyphi to the temples.”
“No,” Huy snapped. “Ker shall not benefit from any gold of mine.”
Amunmose arrived one day before Thothmes’ barge nudged the watersteps. He was expected and challenged and passed through the gate by the guards. However, most of the household was sleeping away another blazing afternoon, and Huy, coming downstairs some time later, found him dozing on the floor of the reception hall, his head uncomfortably pillowed on a bulging leather satchel. Huy stirred him gently with one foot. “You asked to enter my service seven years ago if I was ever in a position to hire you, Amunmose,” he said as the young man opened his eyes. “Well, here you are. I hope it makes you happy.”
Amunmose scrambled up, wincing. “Ouch! I have a crick in my neck and an ache in my back,” he complained. “I sailed with a herald as far as Nag-ta-Hert and then I had to walk west through fields and over canals to find your ugly town, and then I had to ask for directions to your house, and then I got lost.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s a miracle I found you, Huy. I’d like to say that you haven’t changed at all, but in truth you bear little resemblance to that insecure boy who stood trembling with me before the door of Thoth’s temple at Khmun.” He bowed. “Thank you for remembering me, and rescuing me from Ra’s kitchens. What would you have me do?”
Huy laughed from sheer happiness. The memory of this cheerful face, Amunmose’s tactful attempts to allay a lad’s fear of a strange city, his reassurances, and his pride in being given the task of accompanying Huy came vividly back to Huy now. He stepped forward and embraced him.
“You were so good to me, and you took my mind off the task ahead of me by telling me about Khmun as we sailed past its environs,” he said. “A child does not forget such kindnesses. Have you returned to see your family in Khmun lately? Is your mother still making the soup you boasted to me about?”
“What a memory! Yes, my mother is well and I am still smug regarding her skills.” Amunmose looked him up and down much as Anhur had done. “You’ve become a man,” he nodded, “and a great one at that, if the stories I hear are to be believed. I suspect that from now on it will be you, Master, who educates me.” He glanced around. “A lovely house, and I’m eager to begin my duties in it. Already I feel I am basking in your reflected glory!”
“Don’t be ridiculous! I need an under steward, Amunmose. My steward, Merenra, is desperate for assistance. I have acquired a few domestic servants, but Merenra needs someone who can assume an authority they cannot. You read and write?”
Amunmose’s brow had begun to lift at Huy’s words until it almost disappeared under his thatch of dusty, unruly black hair. “You’re not putting me in your kitchen?”
“No. Khnit now has all the help she needs.”
Amunmose flung out his arms and hopped from one foot to the other. “Wonderful! Unbelievable! I can read simple instructions and write numbers and lists, but that’s all.”
“That’s enough.” He called and Tetiankh came hurrying down the stairs. “This is my body servant, Tetiankh,” Huy explained. “Go with him to the bathhouse. He will wash you and shave your head. Then he can take you to Merenra. Are you hungry? Tetiankh, make sure Merenra feeds him after he’s been cleaned up.”
Amunmose sobered. Reaching down for his satchel, he slung it over one shoulder and stared at Huy. “Those six years have dealt strangely with you, Master,” he said with a new respect. “You may trust me to serve you honestly and with loyalty. I consider myself privileged to be here.”
Huy watched him follow Tetiankh into the passage that ran right through the house and out to the rear. He was limping slightly, but there was still a bounce to his step. Huy knew he would not regret his decision to keep the promise he had made, although it had been spoken out of a boy’s panicked desire to keep a friendly face close by. He set off in search of Ishat.
Early the following day, Thothmes arrived. Huy had set one of the servants to watch by the watersteps, and as soon as Thothmes’ barge hove into view, he and Ishat hurried there. Ishat was clearly nervous. She had dressed in gold-bordered, filmy scarlet linen. Her lips had been coloured with red antimony, and her eyelids, above heavy lines of dark grey kohl, had been dusted with powdered gold. The gold circlet hung with jaspers rested on her head, the one large red stone gracing her forehead, and her hair had been gathered into the net attached to the headband. Her sandals sported tiny red jaspers nestling between each toe. She moved in a cloud of perfume, the blend of myrrh, cassia, and henna flowers that was becoming her signature, and although her throat was bare, the gold bracelets on her arms clicked against each other. Her forefingers carried thick gold bands on which green turquoise scarabs sat.
The fingers of power,
Huy thought, half amused and half sympathetic to the pulse beating rapidly in her neck.
She is learning not only to hide her insecurities but also to amplify the nimbus of influence surrounding every part of our being.
They waited while the craft nosed the steps, Anhur (as Huy’s captain) gave a formal challenge that received an equally formal answer, and the ramp was run out. Thothmes did not wait. Running along it, trailed by his attendants, he flung himself on Huy and hugged him tightly, beaming with pleasure. “I would have come to visit weeks ago, but my father is not well and I was deluged with work,” he explained. “I miss you every day, old friend! And you!” He turned and took Ishat’s hand, bringing it to his mouth. “I relive the time we spent together, with you showing me the rather dubious delights of Hut-herib. I remember how much we laughed together, my Lady Ishat. I hope you have not forgotten me!”