10

I SPENT MOST of the seventy days of mourning for Kenna in my room with Disenk. There was nothing to do and not much to say. Disenk spoke occasionally of a Kenna I had never known, a man who loved dogs and who had captured and tried to tame one of the desert creatures, shy and harmless but traditionally impossible to domesticate; a man whose mother had abandoned him in the streets of Pi-Ramses when he was three years old and who had steadfastly revered Bes, god of motherhood and the family, in the hope that one day he might be reunited with the woman who had cared so little for him.

I did not want to hear these things but I bit my lip and listened in a storm of confusion, guilt, relief and fear. In the long silences, when the heat of the season blended with the unaccustomed hush throughout the house so that it seemed to me as if time itself had died with Kenna and we were all suspended in an eternal limbo, I sat cross-legged on a cushion under the window, staring at the floor, and tried to recapture something of the person I had been. I did not want to examine the emotions that raged in my heart. Hour after hour I pushed them away, but just when I was able to achieve a precarious calm some image would blossom unbidden in my mind and my throat would go dry, my stomach churn. Kenna’s shadowed face by the river when the Master swam in the moonlight. Kenna pacing across the courtyard in Hui’s wake, obedient and respectful, his head down over the linen he carried. The feel of Kenna’s mouth under my own, firmness melting briefly into passion.

Much worse were the searingly fresh memories of Kenna’s clammy shoulders slumped against my chest, the feel of his hot, quick breath on my skin. These could not be fought and I sank helplessly under them. They passed, but at night new horrors attacked me as I tried vainly to sleep. I saw the sempriest in the House of the Dead bend over Kenna’s corpse and force the iron hook into his nostril to draw out his brain. I saw his flank slashed with the Nubian stone and the priest rip apart his skin to lift his cold, grey intestines onto the embalming bench. In the end I sent for Harshira, for I dared not approach Hui, and asked that he beg an infusion of poppy from the Master so that I could rest. The medicine came in due course and without comment and I drank it down, wondering dully whether it would be my last act before facing the gods of the Judgement Hall. But Hui did not exact revenge on me and after many hours of drugged unconsciousness I woke sluggishly, swollen-faced and thickheaded, to another day of inactivity and mental torture.

It was as though the house was sealed. No litters disgorged guests, no laughter broke the shimmering emptiness of the courtyard whose paving pattern became as well known to me as the delineations of my own face. Once I thought I heard a female voice below my window but was too lethargic to get off the couch where I was lying. Disenk told me later that the Lady Kawit had visited her brother to express her condolences.

I was not permitted to attend the funeral on the seventy-first day of mourning. I knelt at my window and watched the members of the household drift quietly across the courtyard and in under the trees on their way to the waiting barges. Kenna would be placed in a simple wooden coffin and would lie in the small rock-cut tomb Hui had provided on his behalf. So Disenk told me. There his friends and fellow servants would gather for the rituals of passing. They would eat the funeral feast outside the tomb and bury the remains of the food, and the little cave would be sealed. Disenk, solemn and cool, had wanted to attend but had obviously been instructed to stay with me. I at last persuaded her to come with me into the garden and we sat in the unearthly stillness, not speaking, while the hollow house drowsed, bathed in white sunlight, and even the birds were silent.

Towards evening we went back inside and Disenk prepared a simple meal for me herself. I had little appetite but I ate, just to please her. Later as she was sewing by the light of a lamp and I was moodily picking through the scrolls of time-honoured stories, songs and poems I liked to read for my own satisfaction, I heard the house begin to revive. The courtyard filled with the sound of chatter and hurrying footsteps. Downstairs a door slammed. Disenk looked up. “It is over,” she said quietly, and bent to her work again. I heard Hui’s voice outside, faint but familiar, and Harshira’s deep bass as he answered.

Suddenly it was as though a crushing weight had been jerked from my chest. I took a long, slow breath. It was over. I had not seen my Master for more than two months but it did not matter, he intended to forgive me, life would go on. Where the weight had been there was now the soft, healthy heaviness of a natural exhaustion. I yawned. “Undress me, Disenk,” I said. “I think I will go to bed now.” She obeyed immediately. I fought my sleepiness until she had finished the usual ritual of massaging my face with oils and honey. Then I fell at once into the blessed dark pit of unconsciousness. There were no dreams.

In the morning, before I had even left my couch, someone knocked on the door. Disenk opened it. A short, powerfully built man stood there. He smiled at Disenk and bowed briefly across the room to me.

“I am Neferhotep, the Master’s new body servant,” he said. “I bring this for Thu and Disenk. I also bring a message. Thu is expected to attend the Master for work as soon as she has completed her personal tasks.” Thrusting a small bowl at Disenk he smiled again and withdrew. Disenk carried it carefully to me as I swung my legs from under the sheets.

“What is it?” she asked, wrinkling her nose in bewilderment. I looked. Two shiny green leaves were floating in clear water. I stared at them, and gradually a tide of happiness swept over me. He must have put them in the water as soon as he came back from Kenna’s funeral, I thought delightedly. One for her, one for me. A gesture of reassurance, a promise of forgiveness, permission to laugh again. Reaching into the bowl I fished out one leaf, shook the moisture from it, and handed it to Disenk. She backed away suspiciously and I took the bowl from her and set it on the table.

“Don’t worry,” I told her. “Put it in your mouth and chew it slowly. It is a kat leaf. Trust me!” I took the other leaf and laid it on my tongue. Hesitantly she imitated me, frowning at the bitter taste. For a moment we stood facing each other and chewing thoughtfully, but it was not long before we were giggling together over nothing.

We went down to the bath house arm in arm. I stood on the bathing stone with my eyes closed while I was washed and the fragrant warm water was trickled over me. Never had the feel of liquid on my skin been so insidiously sensuous, nor had the morning air been so full of delicious odours as I left the small room and went to lie on the bench for my massage. It will be all right, I thought deliberately, luxuriously, as the young man’s hands began their daily chore. Time is moving me forward again. I laughed aloud on a tide of well-being and the capable fingers were temporarily stilled.

“My touch is not sure today?” came the query. I laughed again, knowing it was the kat but more than the kat. It was the breath in my nostrils, the strong, healthy beating of my heart, the tiny spot of burning on my heel where the sun had moved the shade away. Kenna was dead but I was alive.

“Your touch is wonderful, as always,” I answered, and thought, it is over. I am free.

Hui greeted me as though nothing at all had happened. After his habitual keen glance over me to make sure my eyes were correctly kohled and my sheath spotless we proceeded with the day’s duties. I had presumed that he would look strained, that there would be a certain aura of sadness about him at least for a while, but he showed no evidence of grief. I knew now in what esteem he had held his body servant but I supposed that the seventy days had leached out his sorrow. I had a moment of profound shock when halfway through the morning I heard someone enter the office behind me and Hui said absently, “Yes, it is permitted to clean now,” but of course it was Neferhotep armed with rags and broom who busied himself around us. He did not call for beer.

The house returned quickly to its regular routine and so did I. Letters to my family were dictated, prescriptions noted and made up, the work went on in the herb room. Such rigidity served to make one day flow seamlessly into another with very little to distinguish them and soon Kenna’s presence became nothing but an uncomfortable, fleeting memory.

Under the simple sheaths I wore every day my body slowly changed. My breasts grew more prominent, my hips gently rounded. I continued to exercise every morning with Nebnefer, to stand in the bath house and lie on the massage bench, to sit before Disenk’s cosmetic table while she painted my face and dressed my hair.

I cannot remember the moment when I realized that Hui’s establishment had truly become my home. I did not consider how the very restrictions placed on my life had forced an unnatural reliance upon its complete security, its unwavering predictability. I saw the same familiar faces from week to week, performed the same tasks, and except in my sleep I ceased to feel uneasy at the changelessness of it all. I was a prisoner unaware of her true state, a favoured child refused the challenges of unfolding maturity, so that although I became expert in the variety and application of all Hui’s medicinal herbs and poisons, though my memory became faultless and my body perfect, my will remained dormant. I was not required to make a single decision regarding myself and I was content that it should be so.

Three months fled by. Then it was Payni, the middle of the season of Shemu again, three weeks before my naming day, and everything changed.

I had risen as usual and the morning had been entirely uneventful. There had perhaps been less to do during my afternoon hours in the office after the noon sleep and in spite of the absence of any real work Hui seemed tense and preoccupied, but I retired to my room pleased with my day. It lacked two hours to sunset. Walking through my door I came to an abrupt halt. Blue linen, the palest, most delicate colour I had ever seen, shimmered and cascaded over my couch, and the smooth contours of my bedcovering could be seen through it. On the table beside the couch a wig rested on a stand. Beside it was a tumble of jewels. Disenk turned from her cosmetics and smiled. Coming to me quickly she closed the door and ushered me forward.

“What is all this?” I wanted to know. She was already unfastening my sheath as she replied.

“Word has come from Harshira that you are to attend a small feast tonight with the Master and a few guests. They will be arriving at dusk. We must be busy.”

“But who is arriving? Why am I invited too? What is going on, Disenk? Do you know?”

“Yes I know, but I have been instructed to give you no information,” she said primly, and for a moment I was awash in the same anxiety and fear that used to plague me when I first arrived. I allowed her to seat me and remove my sandals. I was now completely naked but for the ribbon in my hair which she proceeded to gently slide away.

“Well, what is expected of me then?” I persisted. “Am I to go as a servant, or as the Master’s apprentice? How am I to behave?” I was suddenly panic-stricken. Strangers entering the womb where I had learned to curl up safely. New eyes appraising me, judging me … Disenk was massaging my feet.

“You will behave as I have taught you, Thu,” she said calmly. “You no longer belong to the fellahin. Perhaps you do not realize it, but you walk and talk and eat and converse now quite naturally like a lady. You have become accomplished.”

“It is another test,” I blurted. “After all this time, Hui is still testing me!”

“You are right,” she admitted, “but I think that you will not be displeased when you know why. Now allow me to wash your hands and remove the old paint from your face. We must begin afresh.”

“I have been a member of this household long enough that I can be trusted with its secrets!” I objected hotly, but I submitted to her soothing, efficient touch and gradually composed myself. It did no good to kick against the goad and besides, I was eyeing that river of almost translucent blue linen rippling over my couch with mounting interest. “Am I to wear that?” I asked Disenk, nodding in its direction.

“Of course. And the Master has said that if all goes well tonight you may keep it.”

“If I behave myself and do not embarrass him, you mean,” I muttered but my innate optimism was stirring, the long-buried need for adventure and challenge, and I decided quite deliberately to enjoy myself to the full. It was entirely possible that the invitation to dine would not be repeated. I had sensed Hui’s deeply buried callous streak a long time ago.

Once washed, I sat before the little cosmetic table while Disenk worked her magic. Grey eye paint on my lids and thick black kohl drawn to my temples brought my glittering blue eyes into instant, alluring prominence. My eyebrows were also emphasized with the kohl. Carefully Disenk pried the lid from a tiny jar, and taking a fine brush she loaded it with the contents. “Tip your head back,” she commanded and I did so, catching a sparkle out of the corner of my eye. Studiously she shook the fine grains over my lids and brushed them over my face. “It is gold dust,” she told me, anticipating my question, and I was dumb with wonder. Gold dust! For me!

When I was allowed to raise my head Disenk handed me the copper mirror. The kohl around my eyes, sweeping my temples, caught all the light and sparked as I breathed. So did my skin. Magically I had become an exotic, seductive creature, a goddess in flesh. “Oh!” I gasped, hardly able to breathe, and Disenk firmly removed the mirror and began to place a dusting of red ochre on my cheeks and mouth. I could see her smile with satisfaction at her handiwork. When she had finished with my face she lifted my hair and pinned it to the top of my head, then she pulled a bowl towards her and knelt, lifting my foot into her lap. The orange liquid left her brush and went, cool and slick, onto my sole. My heart gave a great bound. “It is henna,” I whispered, and once again she smiled.

“No noble woman would be seen at a feast without henna on her palms and feet,” she said. “It is a sign of her position. It commands respect and obedience from her inferiors. The other foot please. Then I will paint your palms, and while the henna dries we will try on the wig.”

It was a beautiful, heavy affair of many tightly woven braids falling beyond my shoulders. Gold discs swung at the end of each braid and were set to frame the face of the wearer, and a straight black fringe across the forehead completed the effect. It felt like a crown as Disenk settled it firmly on my head. It brushed my bare skin lightly, regally as I turned this way and that, admiring my reflection in the mirror once again. Oh Pa-ari, I thought with delight. If only you could see your little sister now!

The henna was dry. Wordlessly Disenk lifted the blue linen, helping me into it. Softly it draped itself around my ankles, its gold border glinting. Its skirt was loose but the bodice hugged my figure. My right breast jutted uncovered. Disenk picked up the henna and gently painted my nipple with it. My mother would hide herself in shame, knowing that her daughter was about to appear to strangers dressed like this, I thought, but I will teach myself not to care. Aswat is far behind me now. My hands and feet are hennaed. I am the Lady Thu.

All that remained was the jewellery, and I did not suppose that Hui would let me keep any of it once the dawn came stealing cold into my room. There was a gold circlet studded with blue turquoise for my head, a great gold pectoral that encircled my neck and lay halfway over my breasts, five rings of gold in the likeness of ankhs and scarabs for my trembling fingers, and a gold armband from which hung tiny flowers whose centres were drops of turquoise. The unaccustomed weight of the wig and the finery caused me to move with more deliberation than usual but it was not unpleasant. Disenk surveyed her creation critically and was satisfied. “You are ready,” she pronounced, and I knew that she would be on display tonight as much as I. When the summons came I laid one reddened palm against her cheek and left her.

It was Harshira who stood outside the door, resplendent in gold-shot linen, a golden sash draped across his broad chest. I read no reaction to my transformation in his eyes but he bowed to me stiffly before leading the way along the passage. Dusk was filling the house and the stairs were dim but we descended into the sweet smell of scented lamp oil and soft yellow light. The servants were moving to and fro with tapers, driving back the impending darkness. They stopped and reverenced Harshira briefly as we passed them, and he nodded frostily, sailing on into a part of the building that had been forbidden to me until now.

We had turned right at the foot of the stairs. The passage here had widened into a stately hallway, blue-tiled, its ceiling sprinkled with painted stars. My glance fell from the Chief Steward’s rolling buttocks to my own feet pacing the spotless floor. Light glinted on the tiny gems sewn into my new sandals, one between each toe, and my skin gleamed with oil. The hem of the gossamer blue sheath brushed my ankles like the merest breath of air, shimmering with my movement, and as I came to a halt behind Harshira a gush of saffron perfume from my body rose out of its folds to my nostrils.

Harshira knocked on the imposing cedar doors that confronted us and a slave opened them at once. Within there was a tide of male conversation, a gruff burst of laughter, a sudden gush of scented heat and full light. The tiny turquoise pendants of my armband tinkled as I consciously unclenched my hands and let them fall loosely to my sides. “The Lady Thu,” Harshira intoned, and stood back for me to pass. I met his eyes. They said nothing. With a throat all at once gone dry I stepped into the room.

Hui was already rising, coming towards me, and for a moment he was all that I saw. He was smiling warmly, the moon god himself, all glimmering white and silver with his white braid threaded in silver hanging over one shoulder, the silver baboons, Thoth’s sacred animals, clustered on the pectoral across his white chest, the thick silver bracelets gripping his muscular arms, the silver-shot folds of his floor-length linen. He was strange and beautiful and my Master, and pride swept me as he took my fingers and raised them to his hennaed mouth. “Thu, you are the loveliest woman in Pi-Ramses,” he whispered, drawing me into the company, and it was then that I realized how silent the room had become. Six pairs of eyes were fixed on me, male eyes, appraising and curious. I lifted my chin and gazed back as haughtily as I could. Hui surreptitiously pressed my hand. “The Lady Thu,” he announced quietly. “My assistant and friend. Thu, these men are also my friends, with the exception of General Paiis, my brother, of whom you have perhaps already heard.”

He was uncurling from behind his small dining table, a tall, ridiculously handsome man with black eyes and a full, sardonic mouth. He was wearing a long yellow dress kilt instead of a red one but I recognized him immediately. It was all I could do, not to start forward and blurt out, “It’s you! Did you ever succumb to the drunken princess’s lust?” He bowed to me, grinning slowly.

“It is a pleasure to meet you at last,” he drawled. “Hui has told me a great deal about the excessively beautiful and impossibly clever young woman he has kept sequestered in his house. He has guarded you so jealously that I despaired of ever setting eyes on you. But …” He held up a playfully mocking finger, “the wait has been worthwhile. Let me introduce you to yet another General, my comrade in arms, General Banemus. He commands Pharaoh’s Bowmen in Cush.”

Banemus was tall also, with the tight physique of the serving soldier. His movements, as he rose and bowed, were abrupt and assured, but his eyes, under a mop of curly brown hair anchored with a purple ribbon, were kind. A raised red scar cut across the corner of his mouth and he fingered it absently from time to time. It looked fresh. “There is not much commanding to do in Cush at the moment,” he retorted, smiling. “The south is quiet and my men do nothing but patrol endlessly, gamble recklessly, and quarrel sporadically. It is to the east that Pharaoh looks with wary gaze.”

“He would do better to gaze within his own land,” another man broke in sharply, coming forward. He bowed to me shortly, officiously, his glance sweeping me noncommittally from head to toe. He reminded me of a pigeon. “Forgive me, Thu,” he said. “I am Mersura, Chancellor to the Mighty Bull and one of his advisers. When we here present get together we cannot resist the heated discussions that arise from the preoccupations of our several professions. I am happy to meet you.” He strutted back to his cushions and I felt Hui’s arm go around my shoulders.

“This is your table, between Paiis and myself,” he said gently, guiding me to it. He snapped his fingers and a young slave appeared, placing wine and a bouquet of flowers in my hands. “Before you sit, some final introductions.” The last three men were hovering behind him and I turned to them expectantly. “This is Paibekamun, High Steward to the Living Horus; Panauk, Royal Scribe of the Harem; and Pentu, Scribe of the Double House of Life.” They made their silent greeting and I returned it, murmuring my delight at their acquaintance. They murmured back politely, and while I settled myself behind my table, laid the flowers beside me on the floor, took a sip of wine, they watched me intently. The High Steward in particular had a dark, brooding air about him that was more than the awesome dignity of his exalted position at court. His regard was steady and completely cool. At first I endured it meekly, cowed by the impressive company into which I had been so summarily thrust, but before long I became annoyed.

“Do I have a blemish on my nose, Lords of Egypt?” I enquired brightly, and the tension in the room broke up. Paiis grunted his laughter. Hui chortled. Paibekamun the High Steward bowed again to me, this time with a little more respect.

“Your pardon, Thu,” he said with an icy smile. “I do not often succumb to such rudeness. Let us say that your beauty is somewhat startling. The palace is full of the loveliest women in the country but you are very unusual.”

“Oh yes!” I replied as he retired to his table. “Do let us say that, Lord Paibekamun! And let me say in my turn that I am honoured to be allowed to dine in such illustrious company.” I lifted my cup and drank to them and they toasted me back. Hui signalled, and at the end of the room his musicians began to play. Servants carrying steaming, laden trays poured through a door and began to serve us. Paiis leaned close to me.

“It wasn’t just flattery you know, Thu,” he assured me. “You really are exquisite. How do you come by your blue eyes?”

While my plate was heaped with delicacies and my cup refilled, I told him of my father’s roots in Libu, then I asked him about his family. He spoke readily enough about Kawit, his and Hui’s sister, and of his parents and forebears who had peopled the Delta for many hentis, but soon he brought the conversation around to me again, inviting me to talk about myself which I did with some hesitancy, aware of Hui eating quietly so close to me. I expected a rebuke from him but there was none.

The conversation sometimes flowed around me but more often was focused in my direction and I began to sense that I was being gently but expertly drained of information about myself. I was the polite centre of attention. I was the curiosity, the butterfly set free from its prison, and the experience was sweet. The food was wonderful, the wine heady, and the music wove with the warm virile voices, the darting men’s eyes, the sheen of sweat on their arms and in the hollows of their throats that formed as the night deepened. I found myself joking and laughing with them, my temporary shyness gone.

Only Hui was quiet. He ate and drank desultorily, gave his orders absently, then sat back on his cushions and watched his guests. He did not speak to me once and I was anxious lest I had somehow offended him, but that anxiety was thrust away by my enjoyment. I had arrived. Arrived where, was a question I did not then ask myself. I was the Lady Thu, at ease among Egypt’s greatest. It was a feast I would never forget.

Towards dawn the musicians retired and one by one the men rose amid a welter of soiled dishes and empty wine jugs, picking their way unsteadily through the wilted flowers and broken pastries to the door leading into the great reception hall and the porticoed entrance beyond. Hui took my hand and led me out with them. A scentless, warm wind met us, lifting the braids from my tired shoulders and pressing my crumpled linen against my thighs. The litters were waiting. Harshira stood in the shadows, ready to assist anyone too drunk to help himself. They took their farewells of me with wine-induced fondness, their voices loud in the blessedly cool air, and got into their litters and disappeared across the courtyard. But General Paiis lifted my fingers to his lips and then kissed me lightly on both cheeks. “Sleep well, little princess,” he murmured in my ear. “You are a rare and exotic bloom and it has been a delight to get to know you.” He swung away, springing into his litter and giving his bearers a curt command. He waved as the gloom swallowed him up and I thought deliriously— princess. He called me little princess and I am standing here in the same spot where he rejected that other princess, and I am the happiest woman alive.

Hui drew me back into the house, towards the familiar peace of his office. Once the door was closed behind us he invited me to sit but he perched on the desk, one long thigh crossed over the other, his legs the colour of milk under the still spotless, silvered kilt. I looked up into the red, kohl-rimmed eyes and as I did so he leaned down and lifted the heavy wig from my head, pulling out Disenk’s pins and then pushing his fingers tenderly through my hair. “You are flushed,” he remarked. “Are you tired now, Thu? Did the evening exhaust you? What is your opinion of my friends?” His touch was both soothing and arousing. Troubled, I bit my lip and looked away and instantly his hands returned to his lap.

“Your brother is charming,” I replied. “I am not surprised that the princess wanted to sleep with him. I heard an exchange between him and a royal lady from my window one night a long time ago.” Hui blinked in surprise and then laughed hoarsely.

“Paiis has a way with women. And do you want to sleep with him?”

“No!” I said aloud, laughing back, but thought giddily to myself, it is not the General who makes my breath come faster, it is you, Hui. I want to sleep with you. I want you to hold me in your arms, kiss me with those hennaed lips, I want your red, red eyes aflame with desire as they travel my naked body, your white hands sliding over my skin. You are my Master, my teacher, the arbiter of my days. I wish that you were my lover also. I shuddered.

“Good!” Hui retorted. “I think he would like to play with you for a while because you are a novelty, neither pampered noblewoman nor ignorant slave, but you will have the good sense to avoid any sweet traps he may set, won’t you? And what of the others?” I considered carefully. The effects of the wine I had drunk were wearing off, leaving my head heavy and my limbs cold.

“General Banemus is an honest man, I think. If he ever gave his word he would keep it. How did he get that scar?”

“Fighting the Meshwesh at Gautut, by the Great Green, four years ago,” Hui answered indifferently. “He acquitted himself so well that Pharaoh gave him command of the bowmen in the south. Pharaoh is not a man of sound judgement. He should have kept Banemus in the north.”

“Gautut?” I was shocked. “But the District of Gautut is on the left bank of the Nile, in the Delta, it is a part of Egypt!”

“Four years ago the Delta was occupied from Carbana to On by the Meshwesh,” Hui pointed out. “Ramses and his army finally managed to repulse them. Their chief, Mesher, was captured. His father, Keper, pleaded for mercy for his son but Pharaoh would not listen. Mesher was executed. Did the peasants of Aswat know nothing of this, Thu? What age do they think they live in?”

“They are more concerned with how to pay their taxes and find their food!” I flashed back at him, stung. “What are events in the Delta to them? Merely the faint echoes of an Egypt that they cannot afford to care about!”

There was an awkward silence, during which Hui stared at me speculatively. Then he began to smile. “There is still a little peasant lurking behind that accomplished exterior,” he said softly. “And her loyalties are primitive and unreflective. But it is all right, Thu. I like that tough little daughter of the earth. She knows how to survive.” He stirred, uncrossed his legs, and began to unbraid his hair. “What do you think of Paibekamun, our aristocratic High Steward?” I watched the ropes of creamy hair fall free in a rippling wave.

“He is shrewd and cold,” I suggested hesitantly, “and though he may smile and nod and converse, his true nature is well concealed.” Hui tossed the silver threads that had been woven into his plait onto the desk behind him and slid to his feet.

“You are right,” he declared flatly. “Paibekamun is an exemplary Steward, efficient and silent, and his King thinks very highly of him. So do I, but for very different reasons.” He stifled a yawn. “You acquitted yourself well, Thu. I am pleased.” I scrambled up.

“Then I may keep the blue sheath?”

“Little mercenary!” He tapped me lightly on the cheek. “I think you may, and the jewellery as well.”

“Really?” I stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “Thank you, Master!” A look of sadness came over his face and he sighed.

“I have become very fond of you, my ruthless assistant,” he said quietly. “Go to your couch now, and sleep the day away. Dawn is here.”

I was halfway to the door when some devil stirred in me, a wicked yet pathetic impulse. I turned.

“Marry me, Hui,” I blurted recklessly. “Take me for your wife. I already share your work. Let me share your bed also.” He did not seem taken aback. His mouth quivered, whether from mirth or some other strong emotion, I did not know.

“Little girl,” he said at last, “you have spent the years of your growing in this house, and I am the only man you have really known since you were obedient to your father and frolicked with your brother. You stand on the brink of a dazzling maturity. You have tasted true power once. You will do so again. There is a larger issue in Egypt than either your happiness or mine, and that is my true work. You do not share it yet. I am not the one to take your virginity, and though you imagine that I have taken your heart, it is not so. I do not wish to marry. Leave me now.”

I opened my mouth to protest, to argue, even to beg, for I suddenly sensed a severing, but he gestured violently and I left him, pacing the empty, dawn-drowsy passages until I came to my own domain. Disenk rose from her pallet by the door and quickly undressed and washed me. I watched the water in the bowl become rust coloured as the henna dribbled from my palms. My head had begun to ache. So did my heart. Oh, Hui, I thought as I lay down and Disenk drew the covers over me. If you have not taken my heart, then where is the man who can possibly loom larger in my life than you?

The following morning I reported for work with some trepidation, not knowing how I might be received after my outburst of two nights ago, but my Master greeted me with a warm smile. “Do not become too comfortable, Thu,” he said cheerfully. “Your naming day is less than three weeks away and I have decided to give you your gift early. Today you may come with me to the palace.”

“Oh, Master!” I exclaimed. “Thank you! You have business there?”

“No,” he grinned. “You do. An important man is complaining of abdominal pain and fever, and I have decided that you shall make the diagnosis while I stand by with my palette and take notes. You are perfectly capable of this,” he assured me, seeing my expression. “Have I not trained you myself?”

“But how should I behave in the palace?” I asked in momentary panic, and he rolled his eyes.

“You will behave like a physician, briskly, kindly and competently. Put on your pretty blue linen and tell Disenk to henna your soles and palms. Wear the jewellery but not the wig. I will meet you in the courtyard presently and we will share a litter. Do not be long!”

I nodded vigorously and almost ran from the room. I was delighted and scared. My life had been a placid river for so long, with but one whirlpool, the death of Kenna. Now, in a breathlessly short time, it had become a torrent of stormy water, exhilarating and unpredictable in its surges. I was determined to weather each one.