Suzanne Robinson (31 page)

“Seth,” Pharaoh said. “Go talk with Prince Ahmose for a while. You look as if you could use the calming influence.”

“Majesty,” Seth said.

Tutankhamun sat up and laid a hand on Seth’s shoulder. “No defiance, my lord count. I will not have it.”

“Yes, Majesty.”

He wanted to punch the living god. Seth left the king and passed Anqet on her way to Pharaoh with a tray of food. He brushed by her and let his arm graze hers. She looked at him with those luminous, earth-dark eyes. She gave him a sad smile and joined the king on his couch. Seth exercised military discipline, walking over to Prince Ahmose without turning around. His vicious scowl sent teasing naked dancers bouncing in all directions, and the prince thanked him. Seth bowed in silence and took the winecup Ahmose offered.

“Our delinquent count has returned.”

Seth drained his cup. “Lady Gasantra. Have you been practicing your arts of emasculation on more willing victims?”

Ahmose stuttered an excuse and melted into the shadows. Seth didn’t hear Gasantra’s reply, for he was spying on Anqet where she sat beside the king. He failed to notice Gasantra sidling up beside him and worming her body against his side.

He watched Anqet offer Pharaoh a tray of seasoned pigeon legs. Tutankhamun lifted one and gave it to her. He whispered something. Anqet threw back her head and laughed softly. The king drew her close, and the two engaged in an intimate dialogue. Seth looked at the king’s hand. It rested familiarly on the girl’s arm. He felt as if the lid of a granite sarcophagus had slammed shut and imprisoned him in hopelessness. Something tugged at his arm.

“Seth, listen to me. Now do you see what she is? She practices evil magic.” Gasantra spit her words out. “She would spread her legs on Pharaoh’s couch in front of us if he commanded it. No doubt she’s been on her back most of the time since she seduced our glorious Pharaoh.”

Seth dragged his eyes from the pair across the room.

“What? What did you say?”

“It wasn’t important,” Gasantra said. She spread her hand over Seth’s bare chest and moved it along his ribs.
“Where is your pride, count of the Falcon nome? You’re acting like a heartbroken pet. Has she taken your manhood along with your heart?”

“Of what use is the kind of pride you’re talking about, woman?”

“At least cease this pathetic gawking,” Gasantra said. She grasped Seth around the waist and pulled him into the darkness behind a table of refreshments.

Afraid that he would lose control and rend the two lovers apart, Seth let Gasantra guide him. It was strange that he could hardly feel her hands on his thighs or her mouth at his throat. Desperate to expunge the pain in his ka, he gave Gasantra an impatient shove, leaned against the wall, and tried to master himself. Gasantra pursued him. To his disgust, she slipped her hand inside his kilt, clasped his penis, and stroked. He sucked in his breath. Reaching for her hand, he removed it from his body and shoved the woman away.

Gasantra moved back to him. She ran her tongue along the smooth skin of his neck. “Come, lover. You’ve engaged in far more lurid behavior, and with the king present.”

Leave me.

Gasantra lifted her face from his chest and glanced over her shoulder “Pharaoh saves you from ravishment, it seems.”

There was no mistaking that firm, quiet voice. It was heard over music and talk because all listened for it, whatever else might be going on. Seth arranged the folds of his kilt and emerged from seclusion. Pharaoh was alone. Seth searched the room for Anqet.

There she was, next to Prince Ahmose.

Seth reclaimed his seat below the king. He propped his back against the couch so that he could see Anqet without appearing to look for her.

“Have something to eat.” Tutankhamun waved his hand at a tray.

“I’m not hungry, my Pharaoh.”

“Then have this. It’s black wine from Ahmose’s estate
near Memphis. Memphis. I must have someone look into the question of Lady Anqet’s estate.”

“I’m already doing that, Majesty.” Seth narrowed his eyes. Prince Khai was kneeling before Anqet. “Her uncle is in the city, Golden One, and he has control of the girl’s fortune.” Seth’s fingers grew white as they strangled his goblet. Prince Khai risked a broken neck if he didn’t stop rubbing Anqet’s arm with his cheek.

Tutankhamun sat up and reached for a triangular pastry covered with honey and nuts. “I want Anqet to have what is hers. I’ve already promised to remove Hauron. After all, she is mine, and he has no rights over her. What’s wrong? Oh. Don’t worry about Khai. He means no harm. I was saying that since Anqet is mine, I will cause this Hauron to remove his people from her home at once.”

Anqet is mine.
The words ripped through Seth’s ka. He turned away from the sight of Anqet so obviously content in her new status. If his rival had been anyone else in the Two Lands, he would have fought to death for her. He squeezed his eyes shut and bent his head so that his face was screened by his hair.

“Majesty, may I go? I have no appetite.”

“Stay.”

Seth turned to the youth he had thought his friend. “Send me to Kush, or to Babylon. I’ll take Khet with me. I can’t stay here.”

The king touched Seth’s arm. “You can stay here.”

Strained laughter escaped Seth. He couldn’t hold it back. He gave Tutankhamun a grief-stricken smile and whispered:

The laughter came again. It carried pain, an offering born of his soul and given to his god-king. “Divine Pharaoh,
knowing Anqet and losing her is indeed a good way to attain death.”

“Then perhaps you should reconsider your distaste for marriage.”

Seth gave a tired sigh. “I want no other woman. I can’t bear anyone else. I begin to see why marriage is necessary. How else can one keep a lover from the hands of—”

“Pharaohs?”

“And others.”

The king dropped down beside Seth and clapped him on the back. “I think you wouldn’t refuse Anqet if she were free.”

“I would ask her if she wanted me still. Please, Majesty, I don’t want to stay here.”

“Then go ask Lady Anqet if she will have you.”

Seth made no move. He gaped at the king.

“Did you hear me?” Tutankhamun asked. “Take Lady Anqet to my garden and beg her to forgive you. Offer marriage.” Tutankhamun stood up and pulled Seth with him. He turned the count around. Giving Seth a shove, he hissed in his friend’s ear.

“For once, I’ve been the teacher and you the pupil. Go.”

Unable to speak, Seth obeyed. His feet moved on their own. They moved faster as the meaning of Pharaoh’s words reached his ka. He was so intent on the girl that he stumbled over Gasantra.

“Come home with me,” she said. She made sure Anqet was watching and slipped her hand inside Seth’s belt. “Show her how little she means to you.”

Seth pulled the woman’s hand from his stomach without bothering to look at her He said something to her that he immediately forgot and left Gasantra standing alone in the middle of the room. He shoved past Khai, took Anqet’s arm, and escorted her out of the room without a word. To his amazement, she went peacefully.

During the walk to the king’s garden, Seth made
supplications to Hathor:
Goddess of love, let her forgive me. Let her still love me.

Anqet sat opposite Seth in Pharaoh’s garden and waited for her lover to speak. The evening had been long and harrowing. Without the king’s admonishments she would have clawed Gasantra into jackal-meat. For a good part of the time, she’d been sure that Seth hadn’t missed her, that he had adjusted to their separation and no longer cared. Then she caught him watching her while Prince Khai plied his silly gallantries. She had seen that same malevolence in those green eyes when Seth fought for her life with Lord Merab. After witnessing that look, she’d been hard-pressed to keep an absurd grin off her face.

He wasn’t looking at her. Anqet peered at her lover. Seth was facing her, but he veiled his provocative eyes. There was a quiet tension about his face and body.

“Have I the right, still, to call you beloved?” Seth raised his eyes to hers.

“I know little of love, Seth, but mine doesn’t evaporate like water in the desert.”

Seth took her hand in both of his. “Beloved, Pharaoh says he will release you if you will have me. I—curse it! I feel as if I were being torn in two by a pair of lions. I know this marriage business will end in ruin.”

Anqet snatched her hand away. Throwing the heavy strands of her wig over her shoulders, she stood up and looked down on Seth

“‘Ruin,’ is it?”

“I don’t want what happened to my parents to happen to us.”

Boiling oil pumped through Anqet’s veins. Her voice rose. “Oh, I see. Then you must repeat the mistakes of those who have come before you? You are your father? You learned nothing from your sorrows, or from Sennefer’s tragedy? Your brother died for this—so that you could hide from love and life?”

Seth sprang up. He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, then pushed her away. Taking long strides, he charged toward a myrrh tree.

Anqet stalked over to him. She wanted to punch his taut stomach. She had no chance to alleviate her wrath. Seth whirled on her and dropped to his knees.

“Beloved, are you willing to marry a fool and a coward?”

Anqet joined Seth on the ground. “If the fool will promise not to live in the shadows of his dead mother and father.”

“I will try.” Seth traced a finger along her cheek. “The shadow of the dead isn’t a pleasant place to stay. Anqet, sweet passion, come home with me.”

Anqet closed her eyes and let her whole being concentrate on Seth’s mouth and body in the kiss that followed. After a while, Seth lifted his lips from hers and spoke in a hoarse whisper.

“If we don’t leave, I’ll take you here beneath Pharaoh’s myrrh tree.”

They walked together out of the king’s apartments. In the corridor near the dining chamber, Gasantra blocked their way.

“I understand,” the woman said. “You pass her between you. Or is this part of the lessons you teach the Living Horus? Did you train her so that Pharaoh would learn your own habits of pleasure?”

“Is she always so strident?” Anqet asked as they strolled past Gasantra.

“Not ordinarily,” Seth answered. “But then, you know how loud a vulture can screech when deprived of a carcass.”

Gasantra howled. Her voice chased them down the hall.

“I may not be a fearful opponent, love, but there are others more powerful than I who have cause to resent you. Enjoy the little piece of muck while you can. It won’t be long before I have you at my feet.”

“Better than in your bed,” Seth said.

*    *    *

The sun wrapped Thebes in an embrace of hot stillness. Pampered foreign vegetation in gardens wilted, and all who could sought refuge in workshop, tavern, house, and temple. The molten heat within Hauron’s mind far surpassed the afternoon sun-storm. The liquid metal of hate bubbled inside that living crucible. Like the metal-smith who keeps his fire white-hot by blowing in it through a hollow reed, Hauron fed his wrath. The past few weeks of frustration had only made his torture worse. The girl was in the city, but he couldn’t find out where.

Hauron followed the servant to a house he’d never been in before. As he stepped into the darkness from the sunlight, he bumped into a priest. The man was burdened with two caskets, an arm strung with clacking amulets and several bags that smelled of herbs and dried dung. The caskets rattled, for they held bottles. It wasn’t his habit, but Hauron excused himself. It was never wise to annoy a magician priest. He continued on his way after a polite nod in the man’s direction.

He was ushered into the presence of a woman in a room perfumed with flowers. She reminded him of a basking lizard. It might have been the iridescent paint on her eyes or the way she molded her body to the couch where she lay; or perhaps it was the smooth coldness of her face that gave the amphibian impression. She stirred, and Hauron watched the somnolent slowness with which she got to her feet. She said her name. At once, the anger he’d been holding in check surfaced.

“Lady Gasantra, tell me why you sent for me as if I were the boy who carries your fly whisk.”

Gasantra cocked her head to one side and looked at him without rancor “My sister’s husband is lay priest at the temple of Amun-Ra. He told me you were looking for a girl called Anqet.”

“You know where she is? Please tell me. I’ve been so worried. We were attacked—”

“I’ve heard,” Gasantra said. She gestured toward a seat and offered
wine.
“Before I tell you where your niece
is, can you tell me what will happen to her if you find her?”

Hauron stared into his winecup. He traced the fluted pattern in the bronze and prayed to Amun-Ra for the strength to keep his impatience and his wrath under control He had lost the girl over a month ago, and in all that time, his suffering had grown like an animal being fattened for sacrifice. Even now, the wine failed to dull his appetite. He was never sated for long and wouldn’t be until he had delved within the female demon who called herself his niece. Hauron downed his wine.

“I intend to take my niece home. Her father died recently, and I am her only family.”

“And your home is near Memphis? I suppose that’s far enough away.” Gasantra took a chair beside Hauron and motioned for a slave to refill his winecup. “Drink deeply, my lord, for you won’t enjoy what I have to say. Your niece has been here in Thebes, masquerading as a singer and playing whore to the commander of chariots.”

Hauron lowered his drinking cup. It took him a few moments to understand, and when he did, all trace of the well-bred nobleman vanished. He wasn’t aware of throwing the cup against the wall until wine splattered on the painted plaster The cup bounced into a table leg. The slave attending them fled. Hauron grabbed Lady Gasantra by her arms. His fingers pressed into her flesh as he brought her face close to his.

“She has coupled with a man? Find your tongue, woman.” Hauron shook Gasantra so hard that her wig began to slip back on her head. “Count Seth has touched her? By the loins of Ra, if he has touched her before me, I’ll kill her and him. Speak, before I beat the words out of you.”