Authors: Pauline Gedge
“Must you receive delegations today, Majesty?” I asked. “You are healing very well but the leg must not be tested. A few more days of rest would be better.” Indeed the ugly red gashes were less swollen and had closed satisfactorily. In spite of his bluster I could see that he was glad to be sitting, and he winced imperceptibly under my fingers. “If you will not use the stick then you must not walk any further than your own door.”
“Nonsense!” he snapped, then his brilliant smile flashed out. “Well perhaps you are right. Come, Thu. I will let my son see to the business of the day and I will recuperate still further in the peace of my own bedchamber. In fact I will lie on my couch. And so will you.” He limped the short distance to the couch and settled upon it, gesturing me forward imperiously. “I missed your presence last night,” he complained as I sat beside him and his arm went around me. “You were with Hui I hear, and he held a feast with his friends to entertain you. Were you entertained, little scorpion? Did you miss your King?” I smiled inwardly as I detected the note of jealousy in his speech. I nestled closer to him and held up my mouth to receive his kiss.
“It was a great delight to be back in Hui’s house,” I said innocently, “and I enjoyed his hospitality and the company of his friends. To tell you the truth, Majesty, I hardly missed you at all.”
“Demon!” he shot back at me, but he was laughing. “Prove to me now how much you did not miss me.”
I did as I was told. It took a very long time, and the proving was not as onerous as I had imagined. Pharaoh was becoming a better lover than the man Hunro had described to me, and the face of Prince Ramses rose only intermittently behind my closed lids as the morning burgeoned into the full, heavy heat of another afternoon and we whispered and thrashed among the disordered sheets.
I left him sleeping heavily, one arm outflung, the chubby fingers curled inward like a child’s, and made my way back to my cell intending to exercise and bathe although the fire of the day had not yet moderated. But as I turned in at my own door I found the room in chaos. Disenk was standing with folded arms in the middle of the floor while two slaves were engaged in packing my boxes. Hunro was watching also, doing deep knee bends in her tiny dancer’s kilt and humming to herself.
I paused, shocked and alarmed, my thoughts flying through the many gloomy possibilities the scene might mean. Ramses was already tired of me and was too craven to tell me to my face. I had offended him with my forward speech and was about to be punished. I was not achieving the task Hui had set for me quickly enough and he had somehow been able to have me banished to some royal backwater where the truly ancient concubines dozed through the hours remaining to them.
The last stab of fear told me a great deal about how the deepest part of me truly regarded my mentor, and the degree of mistrust I felt shocked me even further. In spite of my rapid rise in the King’s favour I was still tied to Hui’s powerful hand, mind and body moving obediently to every twitch of his fingers. But I would consider it later. Hunro stretched and smiled at me.
“Do not look so distressed, Thu,” she said. “You are to take up residence in larger quarters by the courtyard entrance, you know, one of the big corner apartments reserved for favourite concubines. You will not have to put up with my snoring any more!”
“You do not snore, Hunro,” I replied absently, the explosion of chaotic fears gone. So I was to be elevated in importance. I had pleased the King after all, pleased him enough to have him lift me from the common ranks of the women. I had been doing the right thing. “Who inhabited it before me?” I wanted to know. Hunro arched her back, her hands buried in her hair.
“Eben did,” she said matter-of-factly. “Eben has just been appointed Royal Nursemaid to the concubine children. You should have heard her wailing as they carried her possessions along to the nursery building.” I shivered. Eben would spend the rest of her life feeding, washing, scolding and teaching manners to the dozens of Pharaoh’s offspring who swarmed over the harem. I felt no sense of victory over her, no desire to gloat. Pity engulfed me.
With a series of thuds my boxes were being closed. Disenk gave an order and the slaves began to carry them out into the sunshine. My couch had already been stripped. I perched on its frame and watched Hunro tuck her head between her ankles. The courtyard was wide, but more than space separated the inmates of the corner apartments from the rest of the cells. I had not known that Eben had resided so close to me. The favourites did not mingle with the herd.
“Please visit me often, Hunro,” I said. “I have no one else to gossip with.” She unfolded and stood panting with her hands on her hips.
“Of course I will,” she assured me. “I hope we shall continue to exercise together, Thu. Besides, we share the same hope for Egypt’s future and we must decide how you are to handle Pharaoh now that you are so high in his favour. The trading fleet has been sighted, you know. It is on its way home.” I stared at her. She was still smiling, looking at me with an expression of condescension on her pretty face.
“I think,” I said slowly, “that I can handle Ramses quite well on my own, thank you, Hunro. I have been glad of your advice in the past but I no longer need to be told what to say or do, by you or by Hui.” Her eyes widened briefly but then she shrugged.
“I hope you are right,” she said crisply. “But be careful of your pride, Thu. Do not let it trip you up.” I was about to make a hot response, for her words had cut me to the quick, when a shadow darkened the cell door. I swung round. Amunnakht was bowing imperturbably, a scroll in his hands.
“Your pardon, Concubine Thu,” he said. “I am here to execute the order received from Pharaoh’s Scribe.” He tapped the scroll gently against the lintel. “Follow me.” I did not look at Hunro again. Sliding off the now denuded couch I hurried after him.
The women gathered on the grass in the late afternoon sunlight watched us in what I took to be an envious silence as we crossed beside the pool and went on to the farther wall of cells, turning left along the paving. Amunnakht strode regally ahead. I felt rather than saw the mute Hatia turn her head to see us go. Nubhirma’at and Nebt-Iunu, the two young lovers, waved happily after me. Amunnakht stopped just beyond the foot of the stairs leading to the roofs and opened a door. He smiled non-committally, at me. “You are blessed indeed,” he said. “And our King is generous.” Bowing, he left me. I did not wait to see him go. I ran inside.
The first thing I noticed was the profusion of light streaming in wide shafts from the windows cut high in the walls and falling on my boxes, on the elegantly turned lion legs of the gilded couch, bringing Disenk’s sheath to dazzling life as she dismissed the slaves and stepped forward. Bright mats covered the floor. There was another door in the left-hand wall. It stood open and gave out onto the passage that ran between my building and the palace. I knew that the queens lived in the next block. With a burst of excitement I told myself that before long I would cross that small divide.
The ceiling was painted with an expert likeness of Nut, goddess of the sky, arching her star-filled body over the space where I would sleep, and the interior walls were also vivid with scenes of palace life. In one corner an empty brazier stood ready to heat the cool winter nights. A shrine, likewise empty, waited with open doors to receive whatever god the lucky inhabitant of the quarters might worship. Lamp stands clustered at the foot of the couch. Two exquisitely carved tables gleamed dully. I sank into one of the chairs placed obligingly by the couch and heaved a sigh of pure satisfaction.
“Disenk,” I said. “Bring out Wepwawet and stand him inside the shrine. Prepare incense. I will offer my thanks to my totem, for surely he has decreed a glorious future for his loyal subject!” My gaze followed her as she opened the crude little cedar box I had brought with me from Aswat, extracted the statue my father had carved, and set it on its stand within the shrine. I became aware all at once of the welcome quiet surrounding us. The splash of the fountain, the cries of the children, the laughter of the other women, could barely be heard. I closed my eyes. Oh gods, I breathed to myself. I will do anything to hold on to this. Anything at all. I will not allow Hui and his plans to endanger what I have achieved. I will speak to Ramses on the matter of the trading apportionment, but if my words incur his wrath I will abandon all future efforts to subvert his policies. The risk of loss to myself is too great. The odour of incense began to curl about my nostrils as Disenk lit the grains in the long holder. I rose and took it from her, making the ponderous motions of purification around the god’s little silver house before I could go to the floor and begin my prayers. Wepwawet would stand by me, I knew. He had never failed me yet. Together the peasant girl and the God of War had weathered many battles. They were loyal to each other, Aswat’s minor deity and the child of Aswat’s earth, and there was great security in that thought. Inhaling the smoky air I started to pray.
Ramses sent for me in the evening. I found him seated beside his table in the mellow glow of a lamp, but his beaming smile eclipsed the light that bathed him. Well? his expression said. I knelt and kissed his feet, pressing my face against his warm flesh. “Many thanks, Mighty Bull, Great Horus,” I said huskily. “Your kindness is unbounded. I do not know what to say.” He patted the top of my head paternally, bade me rise, and reached behind him. Two scrolls were placed in his hand and I noticed for the first time that Tehuti, his Chief Scribe, stood by his shoulder. Ramses was still smiling, the unaffected expression of pure mischievous joy making him look like an excited child.
“That is not all,” he said. He passed me one of the scrolls with the eagerness of anticipation. “Read it, my precious little scorpion!” I broke the seal and unrolled the papyrus, scanning the contents rapidly. The scribe’s exquisitely turned hieroglyphs sprang out at me and I felt the colour of an instant exhilaration flush my cheeks as I understood what was under my eye.
“Oh Ramses,” I managed. “This is too much. I do not deserve it.” He laughed happily.
“I have deeded to you ten arouras in the Fayum oasis. Five contain an orchard. The rest is grass but you can have it seeded to grain if you wish. In fact,” he leaned forward with mock solemnity, “you can do anything with it that you want. Why not have it flooded from the lake and wade about in the mud like a true peasant?” His expression was impish. “One more thing.” He unrolled the second scroll himself, cleared his throat, and read sonorously aloud, “‘In accord with the supreme authority I, Ramses Heq On, the Mighty One of Years, hold as God in Egypt I bestow upon the concubine Thu, beloved of My Majesty, the title of Lady and a place among the orders of minor nobility commensurate with the title, in recognition of her superior talent as My Majesty’s personal physician.’ The Heralds will call the news.” He thrust that scroll at me also and sat back, hands on his knees. “Copies already lie in the chests of the Royal Archives. Are you pleased, Lady Thu?”
Lady Thu. Lady. A title, and enough arouras to support two large families for a year. I was a noble landowner. The delicious unreality of it stunned me, and all of a sudden I burst into tears.
“Come come,” Ramses said anxiously. “Are you so disappointed? Do not cry, Thu. You will make your eyes swollen and besides, your King cannot bear the sight of a beautiful woman in distress.”
“No!” I choked. “Not disappointed, Great One. Oh, not at all,” and I collapsed into his arms. With my face against his warm neck I wept while he pulled me close and stroked my arm soothingly.
“There is much in you that is still a child,” he said. “Paibekamun! Bring linen! Now blow your nose, my Lady Thu, and run along to your new playroom. I will send for you later and we will eat on the river and enjoy the night breezes. Yes?” I nodded, blew my nose, kissed him, and slid from his lap.
“Thank you, Ramses,” I whispered. He made a face.
“How many times must I tell you that you may not use my name,” he grumbled, but his mouth was quivering. He waved me away, and clutching my precious scrolls I performed my obeisance and left his presence, running in the late bronze light along the short passage between his bedchamber and the path that divided the palace from the harem and then through my own door.
Disenk rose obediently, her expression becoming startled at my tear-stained appearance. I babbled out my news, the scrolls still hugged to my chest. A smile of sheer satisfaction spread across her delicate features and I thought how much my title would please her snobbish little heart.
“Get me a harem scribe,” I requested. “I want to dictate a letter to my family. Then clean me up, Disenk. I am to go boating with Pharaoh this evening.” Her bow was profound and she glided out with alacrity.
I have had much time lately to reflect upon my life. I do so with anger, with great bitterness, with hot shame when I consider my naïvety, but I do not think that I fear the censure of the gods any more. For in that moment when Ramses read to me from the scroll bestowing a nobility upon me that I in truth did not deserve, the emotions of gratitude and humility that welled up in me and spilled over into tears were entirely genuine. I have been cold and calculating. I have been selfish, deceitful and unscrupulous. But on that occasion my heart was touched and opened naturally, revealing a blossom long hidden in darkness. Surely the gods will forgive me all else because of that brief blooming! It was Panauk who answered my summons. I greeted him with surprise for although I knew he was a scribe of the harem I had identified him more closely with Hui’s house than with the maelstrom of the women’s quarters. He congratulated me politely on my elevation, sank onto the mat, and set his palette across his bare knees.
I dictated quickly, telling my mother and father of my good fortune and wishing them well, those two insubstantial shades from my past. I ended with a message for Pa-ari. “Dearest friend and brother,” I said. “Now that I am to have charge of my own land I need a reliable scribe. I beseech you to come to Pi-Ramses with Isis your betrothed. I will find good quarters for you both and see that you lack for nothing. Think well before you refuse me! I love and miss you. By the hand of Panauk, Scribe of the Harem, for the Lady Thu.” I watched Panauk inscribe the last words. Then he looked up.