House of Dreams (49 page)

“What of your son, Majesty?” I whispered. “Surely Prince Ramses with the men he commands …” He laughed harshly.

“My sons, you mean,” he said. “Ah yes, my little Horus-Fledglings. All with their military toys, their quarrelling and foolish jealousies. Do you know how many sons I have, Thu? Pa-Ra-her-unami-f, Montu-her-khepesh-f, Meri-Tem, Khaemwaset, Amun-her-khepesh-f, Ramses-meri-Amun, all of them legitimate, all of them eager and hot-blooded, all of them panting to be declared my Heir. And the eldest, of course. Prince Ramses. He of the mysterious air and godlike beauty. Trust him? Trust any of them? No! For they are fawned upon and flattered and bribed and courted by every faction at court and in the temples with any pretensions to power in Egypt, and if I make a move to declare any one of them the Horus-in-the-Nest the rest will scream their disappointed outrage and the power mongers will swiftly take sides. No. I am content to let the gaming pieces fall where they may. When I feel the touch of the God upon my shoulder, and my days in Egypt are numbered, then I will declare a successor who can untangle the maze Egypt has become if he has the strength and the wit. I have done my part. I have kept the foreign wolves from the borders. Let him deal with the rats within. As for you …” He struggled out of the chair, pulled away the sheet I had been clutching to my neck, and pointed to my sandals. “Leave my presence, and do not insult me again with your foolish and arrogant ideas of what should be. You are like a suckling babe trying to read the Admonitions of Imhotep.” He had become a powerful and cold stranger, this man with whom I had wrestled and laughed, who had stroked my head when I sat at his feet during the feasts and beamed with an indulgent delight while he showered me with gifts. I did not dare to look at him. Quickly I slid from the couch, put on my sandals, and prostrated myself before him, conscious all the time of his rancour, his contempt for me. Head down I backed to the door, but as I reached it I risked a glance at him. He had already turned away and was talking to Paibekamun. Crushed, I slunk into the darkness.

19

I WAS NOT INVITED
to the formal distribution of the treasure the ships had brought home. After a night of restless sleep and lurid dreams I sat just within my door where my shame could not be seen, and watched and listened to the furore as the other women prepared to enjoy the great day. The harem was emptying. Even the drunken Hatia, swathed in red linen, her pallid face garishly painted, paced unsteadily in and out of my vision, her body servant behind her, as she waited for the summons to the litters. The occasion seemed to infect the precincts with a kind of hysteria. Children cried, harried servants exchanged sharp words as they rushed to and fro, and the high, shrill voices of the inmates filled the air like the senseless gibberish of a flock of agitated birds.

Disenk hovered at my rear, silently passing me water that did not seem to quench my thirst and fruit that stuck in my throat. I was not particularly disappointed at missing the festivities. I would have had to stand under the tenuous shade of my gauze canopy for hours, my feet aching, the sweat gathering under my fine sheath, the metal of my jewellery burning against my skin. No, it was the public nature of my disgrace that ate at my vitals. The whole court, the entire harem, would notice my absence, comment upon it, whisper about it with unfeeling glee. She rose too fast, they would say with mock concern, their eyes alight at the delicious titbit of gossip. She was arrogant and aloof, and now she is paying. Poor Lady Thu. Poor trumped-up little commoner.

I both dreaded and longed for a visit from Hunro, but no one darkened my door, and at last the vast courtyard emptied and I dared to emerge and walk alone upon the dry grass. Sitting beside the pool with its busy fountain I gave way to rage and a mounting trepidation. Would Ramses forgive me? Was his affection deep enough to overcome my indiscretion?

Later, kneeling before the pool with my folded arms upon the rim and my eyes fixed unseeingly on the play of sunlight infusing the surface, I heard the bray of horns and faintly the roar of the crowd gathered around the temple forecourt. Palace and temple guards in leather-scaled armoured tunics, their bronze helmets flashing, would be holding back the thousands of city dwellers pressing to catch a glimpse of Pharaoh and the mounds of gold, silver and precious stones with which he would be surrounded. The Queen, tiny and regal, would be at Ramses’ right hand, Ast-Amasareth with her red, red mouth over jumbled teeth at his left.

And who would be standing in my place, behind the God, with her hand resting lightly on his shoulder? Did I have a rival already, or was the space vacant? I did not want to think about such things. I did not want to consider any of it. There was a griping pain in my belly and my head was beginning to ache.

Disenk persuaded me to submit to a massage, and I lay in the coolness of my room while her hands passed soothingly over me. Was it my imagination, or was she treating me with less esteem today than yesterday? I closed my eyes and willed myself to become calm. I was building a pyramid out of a small stone, driving myself deeper into nothing but a foolish fantasy. Damn you, Hui, I thought as I felt my body gradually relax. You and your insane ideas. For what, in the end, can Ramses do but struggle to compromise with and conciliate the priests? I dozed in the intensifying heat of noon.

I knew that the women would not return until the following dawn, for the celebrations would fill every room of the palace with music and dancing, drinking and revelry, so I spent the remaining hours of the day in reading, swimming, and talking to Disenk. But at sunset, when I was sitting quietly by the pool as the solid shade of the building behind me crept over the grass and Disenk was about to serve me my evening meal, a royal Herald approached, bowed, and handed me a scroll. “A communication from Aswat, Lady Thu,” he said politely. I thanked him, my mood lifting immediately, and tore the missive open. It had to be from Pa-ari, telling me when he would arrive. I must talk with Amunnakht, I thought happily as I unrolled the papyrus. Quarters must be prepared with the other harem scribes, and furnishings provided. My food forgotten, I began to read. The sight of the script written in his own meticulous, neat hand gave me a rush of reassuring warmth.

“My dearest sister,” I read. “Forgive the length of time that has passed since I received your letter. And forgive, also, the words I must reply. I cannot come to Pi-Ramses. I am now fully employed in a position of trust by the priests of Wepwawet, and Isis and I signed our marriage contract last month. We have a house behind the temple, with a small garden and fish pond, and we are expecting our first child towards the end of the year. Please understand, dear Thu. I love you but I would not be happy in Pi-Ramses, and surely the harem does not need yet another able scribe as much as Wepwawet, and my wife, need me here. Write to me soon and tell me that I am forgiven, for until then I will live in the utmost fear that I have lost your affection.”

But I do need you, Pa-ari, I thought in anguish as I let the scroll fall from my hand and curl in upon itself. I need you desperately. I have no friends here, no one who will give me a rock of unselfish love on which to plant my feet! Oh my brother, will you desert me also?

I was shaken by a fierce jealousy, seeing in my mind’s eye the little mud brick house in the shadow of my totem’s temple, the slow-moving orange fish undulating placidly in the depths of the modest pool. Pa-ari would come home to the adoring dark eyes of his Isis and together they would eat their simple meal in the peace of an Aswat evening while the sunset glowed red in their tidy little garden and the palm trees stood in a dignified stillness, outlined against the copper-coloured sky.

“Disenk,” I called gruffly, “bring me my medicine box. I will lie here in the grass and chew kat leaves. I do not wish to exist in the glare of this reality any more.” Picking up Pa-ari’s scroll I held it to my face, trying vainly to catch from it a whiff of his comforting smell, but the papyrus was dry and odourless. I tore it in two and dropped it into the water.

My punishment lasted three days, during which Pharaoh’s silence was like a wall of adamant around me. The women eyed me warily. Their servants, when I chanced to meet them, were respectful but distant. Hatia shocked me by giving me a smile of such malevolent complicity as I passed her on the second day on my way to the bath house that my scalp prickled. I hated them all, the silly, shallow females, the ridiculously snobbish underlings, the spoiled, pouting children always underfoot. I wanted to scream at them, strike out in some way, but I moved from my privileged quarters to my bath, from the pool where I swam to the grassy spot where I blatantly exercised under their avid eyes, with my chin high. “Never mind,” Hunro said on the one occasion when she came to my rooms. “It cannot last, Thu. Ramses is not used to hearing intelligent argument from the women he sleeps with, only from the Queen and the Chief Wife who do not challenge his virility any more when they open their mouths to engage him on some point of political strategy. You madden him but you also fascinate him. He will send word soon.” She grinned at me, the picture of vigorous good health and beauty, making me feel pale and thin. “If not, you can always choose a lover from among the rest of us. There is satiation in a woman’s arms as well as a man’s, you know.” I answered her sourly, curtly, but she was right, for on the evening of the third day I was summoned to the royal bedchamber. I went apprehensively, feeling as though I would have to conquer Pharaoh all over again.

But he greeted me effusively, enfolding me in an embrace even before I had fully risen from my obeisance and leading me to the table where sweetmeats and wine had been set out. Still holding my hand he urged me to sit and then bent over me, searching my face, his smile one of unaffected joy. “Dearest Thu!” he said. “I have missed you so much! My nights have been miserable without your warm body beneath the sheets and I have not slept well. How are you? A trifle wan, I see. Can it be that you have missed me also?” He spoke as though we had been apart for months rather than three tortuous days and I thought resentfully that if he had missed me so acutely it was his own fault, yet I could not help but respond to the note of insecurity in his voice.

“My King,” I responded, “of course I have missed you! And I have been prostrate with the fear that I had seriously offended you and you had banished me from your presence for ever.” He wagged a finger at me, took the chair opposite, and raised his eyebrows.

“You did offend me. And I have chastised you, my Lady. Let us speak of it no more. Tell me of Adiroma’s report on your land. I hear he took a female Overseer with him to the Fayum. Most intriguing!”

I looked into those dark brown, lively eyes and thought how grossly Hui had underestimated this man who knew with pitiless omniscience the exact limits of his position and who obviously kept his stubby finger on the pulse of his domain. For the first time it struck me as puzzling that Hui, powerful and intelligent in his own right, a privileged physician with access to every member of the royal family, should have a weaker grasp of Ramses’ true character and the issues confronting him than I did. But perhaps Hui had never faced his King in the way I had, nor heard his clear, succinct exposition.

I described my dealings with Adiroma and Wia as vividly as I could. It was not difficult. At the thought of my property I was filled with delight and did not need to feign animation. Ramses listened with a smug smile. “I am happy to have been able to bring you such pleasure, my little scorpion,” he said at length. “Your words have kindled an interest in me. How would you like to take a trip to the Fayum, you and I, so that together we may inspect this piece of Egypt’s dirt you have imbued with such sacred virtues?”

“Oh Ramses!” I cried out, leaving my chair and climbing onto his knee. “You are a good man and I love you! I would like it more than anything else in the world!”

“I am not a man, I am a God,” he returned, amused as always at my enthusiasm, his arm encircling my waist. “And I hope there is something else in the world you like better, otherwise your King will be bitterly disappointed.” He heaved himself upright, carrying me with him, stalked to the couch, and threw me upon it. Both of us were laughing. Falling beside me, he pulled me to him and began to kiss me avidly and I found, to my great surprise, that I had missed the scent of his skin and the taste of his mouth. Lust rose in me, and with a grunt I surrendered to its mindless insistence.

He had not directly commanded me to stay for the night. When he fell at last into an exhausted sleep I dressed, and Paibekamun let me out into the cooler air of the passage. As he held the door for me he said in a low voice, “The Master wishes to see you as soon as possible.” I turned sharply. The face so close to mine was indistinct in the dimness. It told me nothing. Yet the impression of aloof superiority Paibekamun always gave was as strong as ever as our breath mingled. It came to me then that Paibekamun did not like me at all.

“If that is so, why does he not come to me?” I inquired, tired and annoyed. Behind us, on the great couch, Pharaoh stirred and groaned but did not wake. Paibekamun shrugged, a supremely indifferent gesture.