Out of the Black Land (11 page)

‘Flog him,’ she said, shutting her mouth with a snap.

Ptah-hotep

Things went more easily for me and my office once the approbation of the high priest was known—and it was known with amazing speed. Palaces have very efficient gossip-networks and the gifts-of-welcome, which had been conspicuously absent, began to pour in.

I had to purchase two more slaves to open and catalogue them and hire another scribe to send thank-you notes. On Meryt’s advice, I bought Nubians, and that caused some murmuring. People said that I had a taste for black flesh, or that I was secretly part-Nubian. This might have been true. My father was always cagey about who my mother’s family had been and where he had acquired her. But what I needed was a household which would get along with Meryt, my chief slave and housekeeper, and she naturally preferred her fellow countrymen. Hani, Tani and Teti were pleasant people, cheerful enough, though showing marks of cruel usage, and seemed to be happy with their change of occupation. It never once occurred to me, as someone suggested, that the Nubians might mutiny and massacre me during the night. The people who were trying to kill me had all been pure-bred Egyptians.

I was delighted to find that my principal scribes were attentive and intelligent, and by balancing Khety’s account against Hanufer’s, I could arrive at a reasonable view of any situation.

My office was complete when the Master of Scribes brought me Bakhenmut, returned from the feast of Apis.

They found me listening to Hanufer’s account of the depredations of a landlord, who was demanding higher taxes than the Inspectors had assessed, in return for what he said was a spell for conferring magic fertility on seed, direct from Isis herself. The farmers who had
not
bought it had found their promising fields of barley and spelt-wheat withered overnight. This might, of course, have been supernatural but it seemed suspicious.

‘A letter to the Chief Watcher of that village, Hanufer,’ I dictated:

‘To the Chief of the Watchers of the village of the Son of Horus, Greetings. May your eyes never grow dim and your vigilance be maintained. Find out the movements of men around the stricken fields at night, and taste the soil of the fields where the crop has died. If you have reason to think that they may have been spread with salt, arrest the landlord and bring him before the court of the Nomarch.

‘Call also the Principal Priestess from the Temple of Isis and ask her to perform an apology to her goddess, who will have been affronted by this fraud—this to be paid for by the landlord.

‘If you find nothing to suggest fraud but instead divine intervention, then divert the debts of the farmers to the Temple of Isis, who presumably had a reason in bespelling some fields and blighting others. Convey this to the priestess also. Know that if you are virtuous and diligent, Pharaoh and the gods are well aware of what you do and you will be rewarded. Report the result to me so that I may instruct the temple to adjust the taxes. The Lord Ptah-hotep, usual titles.

‘How is it that you know of that trick about the salt, my lord Ptah-hotep of the usual titles?’ asked my amused Master, alerting me to his presence.

‘Master, how good to see you!’ I exclaimed, getting up and laying aside a sheaf of reports on the maintenance of dykes and walls. I noticed, as I put them down, that I might have to levy some labour to repair the worst, and that would be costly. Levied labourers eat like donkeys, but not, alas, of the same food.

‘Master, a landlord tried something very similar in my own village, though in that case it was sowing weed seeds through the crops.’

‘There are advantages in being a commoner, lord,’ he commented. ‘I have brought your scribe, as we agreed.’

‘Welcome.’ I took the hand of the short stocky priest with pleasure. He smiled shyly and said, ‘I am honoured by the Lord Ptah-hotep’s condescension and will strive to repay his trust.’

‘I’m sure you will. Now, here are Khety and Hanufer, you will remember them, and here is Meryt, she is my housekeeper and ruler of all matters which do not involve my office.’

Meryt knelt and Bakhenmut patted her shoulder gingerly. Meryt’s subservience had a royal arrogance about it now which made nervous people more nervous. She rose and smiled at him and he smiled back in relief.

‘Lord Bakhenmut, will you take up your apartments today?’ she asked practically.

‘Yes, yes, my wife is moving our household there now, very beautiful rooms. She is pleased,’ he told her, beaming. ‘She is a woman of refinement, you know, my Henutmire, and of noble lineage, and she is delighted at our elevation.’

‘But you will have a room here for late work, lord, and if you will come with me now I will show you,’ said Meryt.

Did I notice a shade of more relief on the devoted husband-of-Henutmire’s face? It was gone too quickly for me to be sure.

I left Meryt to settle the new overseer of scribes into his room and took my Master into the inner office, to which only my household had access. One of the Nubian twins poured wine.

‘Tashery?’ asked the Master of Scribes, smiling at me.

‘Did you get them?’ I asked.

‘Certainly, Ptah-hotep, and they were a generous present. My ancient colleague Snefru is beside himself with joy at the cartload of old manuscripts you sent and he has plans for the purchase of so many more that he may have to be dug out of the pile. That was kind, lord. And I hear that you acquitted yourself so well with the High Priest that he declared you to be almost adequate and invited you to play senet with him.’

‘You are well informed, Master of Scribes,’ I smiled. It was very pleasant to revert to being a student again.

‘Many have had to alter their view of you, Chief Royal Scribe,’ he returned. ‘But I knew, of course, all along. Can you tell me of the interview, lord, before I perish of curiosity?’

I recounted the whole evening, including my silent, lonely walk along the avenue of sphinxes.

‘He would have liked that,’ chuckled Ammemmes. ‘No attempt to bolster your position with soldiers or guards, just the solitary young man and the terribly dangerous old man. A duel of more than wits, and you have impressed him. Very well done.

‘Now, Ptah-hotep, you seem to have ordered your work in the approved way—as I would have done myself. There is only one thing which I would venture to suggest and before I do that I think I will have some more wine.’

I gestured to the Nubian. He filled the master’s cup, and then left at my signal.

‘The Princess Sitamen visited you, did she not?’

‘Yes, she did.’

‘That has caused gossip. It would not be wise to have too close a friendship with that Great Royal Wife. You know how palaces are.’

‘I am beginning to learn,’ I said stiffly.

‘One you know of is well and has sent word; I bring this,’ he handed me a letter which I slipped into my cloth. ‘To preserve him, Ptah-hotep, it would be a good idea for you to marry. The followers of supplanted Nebamenet are restrained, but not muzzled. They speak against you and who knows what will incline the Pharaoh’s heart one way or another? Take a wife, my pupil.’

‘I do not want a wife,’ I said. ‘I do not want to take on the responsibility of a household and children when my own position lies on the edge of a knife. I will not take anyone into peril with me.’

‘That is the only impediment?’ his eyes were as sharp as pins.

‘No, I do not know if I desire women, and I would not like to make anyone miserable. Then the word would go out to all the gossips, Master of Scribes. A mysterious young man who may or may not love women is one thing; an impotent husband is a laughing stock.’

‘You have a point,’ he said. ‘And I would not presume to instruct you in your private life, my lord. But I do think,’ he added, getting to his feet and ordering his cloth, ‘that you should try and find out. Secretly, of course. With a trusted lover.’

I nodded, and the Nubian saw him out.

Meryt came in to announce that Bakhenmut was pleased with his accommodation and had already taken some of the tax-returns off the pile to be read.

I surveyed her. She was elegant and well-made, this woman whom I owned; for she had resisted being freed, saying that a freed slave had no place in my service, and that she would keep the paper for some later date, when fate might make it useful.

Her hair today was loose and floating, confined only by a length of gold ribbon. Her body was full, her breasts round, her limbs well-shaped. Did I desire her? Could I make love with her?

‘Meryt, sit down. I have something to say and I want you to listen.’

She sat down promptly at my feet and I slid down to join her, so that I could see her face.

‘Lord?’ she asked politely.

‘Meryt, I value your service and I could wish for no better housekeeper and companion.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, puzzled.

‘The Master of Scribes has told me that I must marry, but…’

‘But your heart belongs to another,’ she finished the sentence.

‘Yes. But there is another problem. I do not know women, and I do not know…’

‘I will lie with you tonight,’ she said, reading my heart as she often did. I seldom had to spell things out to Meryt. ‘Then you shall know. Is that all, Master?’ Her voice sounded careless, as if it was a minor matter in a busy household.

‘Yes,’ I answered.

She relented and stroked my cheek, a caress which felt as intimate as a kiss. ‘It will be all right, Master,’ she said, and was gone.

***

She came to me after the household was bedded down for the night. Hanufer and Khety in their room, my new scribe with his family, Anubis on guard, the three Nubians in an untidy heap on their mats before the door.

There was a breathing silence, and Meryt came in naked on the wind of it.

‘Look at me,’ she whispered, and I saw by lamplight the rich curves of her shoulder and hip, the rounded belly, the full breasts. She came closer and I smelt a strong female scent, oil of Hathor from the temple. It mingled with the scent of her skin and made me giddy.

She knelt beside me and guided my hands to her nipples, to the wet cleft between her thighs. I had never touched a woman, and slid one finger inside, feeling her slippery flesh with curiosity but, as yet, no desire.

Then she bent her head and kissed my mouth, and she tasted of honey. Her lips parted and I felt her tickle my inner lip with her tongue. Still, though I felt interested and a little breathless, I was unaroused.

‘Isis lay with Osiris after he was murdered,’ she whispered, and her hands caressed my body, sliding down over my chest to my belly and then to my phallus, which at last began to rise.

‘I will show you how she conceived Horus the Revenger,’ Meryt said softly. ‘I will show you how she received his seed inside her.’

I moved under her hand, and she pushed me down firmly. For a startled moment, I felt her mouth encompass my phallus, a sudden indescribable wetness, and then she was astride me, her knees on either side of my hips, and my phallus was inside her, in the soft liquid heat of her vessel, and it felt wonderful. I lay still, transfixed, and she rode me like a warrior rides a horse, rising and falling, and the stimulation passed towards unbearable until it flowered in a gush, a stream of semen, a sensation so strong that it hurt deep in my loins, and she exclaimed with pleasure.

She would not let me withdraw, but rolled so that we lay side by side, and strong muscles held my softening phallus inside the Nubian woman until it hardened again and we moved now with some confidence, and at the second climax I heard myself cry aloud.

Chapter Nine

Mutnodjme

Nefertiti thought for a long time, and she did not tell me what she thought. But she had cast aside her cloth when she came into her own rooms, and as she lay naked across her bed on the reed mat I saw one hand stray to her nipple and roll it gently, a self-caress full of sorrow. She had never been a ‘woman of a hundred lovers’ even when she had played with our cousin, her first lover, in the stooks of cut hay. She had told me that he had pleased her and that she loved him, but Divine Father Ay had plans for Nefertiti—‘the beautiful one who is come’—most saleable of daughters. Our cousin was sent away to the army and later we heard that he had been killed in a border skirmish somewhere south in Kush.

I wondered suddenly about Horemheb, the captain, who had known his way to her bathing pool and bed-chamber when I had fallen into the Nile and nearly been eaten. Had he lain down in her arms as well? But Horemheb was also away on the borders, and in any case he was young and strong. He was not an old man.

Nefertiti sighed. She rubbed her temples as though her head hurt. Then she moved to the window, where she could catch the last glimpse of Amen-Re sinking over the edge of the world to traverse the Tuat, the twelve hours of night and the battle with the monster Apep of Teacher Khons’ story.

‘Lord Amen, you who know the hearts of all creatures, tell me what to do!’ she exclaimed. ‘I must conceive, my womb is hollow, it aches for a child. To do so I must lie with another man.’

‘He’s a god,’ I said, and she started at the unexpected voice, though she knew that I was there. ‘The Pharaoh is the avatar of the Lord Amen-Re; Teacher Khons said so. You aren’t lying with a man, but with a God.’

I realised, too late, that I had succeeded in arguing my sister into doing what I least wanted her to do, and bit my lip. For Nefertiti was smiling at me. She took me into her scented embrace and kissed me, and then turned me around by the shoulders.

‘Most intelligent little scribe! Go tell the Queen Tiye that I will do as she advises, as long as my lord knows and approves.’

I went, but I still didn’t like it.

I don’t know what the Great Royal Wife Tiye said to her Royal Son that evening, but she did speak to him; I saw him come and go from her apartments. I watched as the Queen’s maids cleared the corridor with a great tumult, screaming that there was a snake and that no one should come near until the snake-catcher could remove it.

Then I saw the King’s door open, and the old man came out into the empty hallway. He moved easily, though it was clear from the drooping of belly over his cloth and the laxity of the flesh at his throat and armpit, not to mention the white hair, that he was very old. His face was all lines, around his mouth, across his brow. He was scented with the rarest of oils and his hands, as he reached down to pat my shoulder, were long fingered and very clean with close cut nails. He wore only one ring, his coronation ring of the beetle Khephri who is Amen-Re at noon. I knew that he had been a soldier in his youth. There was a lateral scar across his chest where a spear had slashed him in the battle in Nubia. A battle which had decided him against any more wars, or so they said. So he must have once been young and strong and brave, like Horemheb.

He saw me and smiled, his understanding, intelligent smile.

‘Well, little maiden, we meet again.’

This was true and I saw no need to comment, but he held out his hand and I took it, kneeling as I was required to do when addressed by a god.

He lifted me to my feet and said, ‘Tell me, Mutnodjme, is this with your will?’

His dark eyes were very kind but exceptionally sharp and I could not lie to him.

‘No, Lord,’ I wriggled with embarrassment.

‘Is it with the lady’s will?’

‘Yes, Lord,’ I replied. His face, which had been troubled, cleared.

‘Then show the way,’ he said, and I led him to my sister’s door. She opened it and he went in. I went too, as was required, and was immediately ordered by my sister to stand outside the door and keep watch in case anyone defied the Queen’s diversionary viper and came this way. Affronted, I did so, and only heard a little of what went on inside.

I heard her say to him, ‘Lord, has my husband agreed?’ and heard the soft voice of the King say, ‘Lady, he has,’ and then I heard the creak of the bed-strings as Nefertiti lay down. I could picture her, spreadeagled for a sacrifice; but there was no other sound but conversation too quiet for my ears for a long time; no other creaks.

Unbelieving, I heard Nefertiti laugh, a light laugh as though there was no great responsibility on her. Then I heard wine being poured. There was an interval, and then I heard her giggle, a giggle which broke into a soft gasp. Still the tell-tale strings made no noise. What was she doing? Was the old King impotent as well as the young?

Then the gasp broke into a strange cry. It was repeated on a rising note, like a bird’s voice. At last I heard the bed respond to another body being added to it. The bird-voice went on until it broke and silence fell. Then more speech, more conversation, more wine. I began to think I was going to sit outside my sister’s door all night, and wondered how long the snake-panic would keep everyone away.

At last I heard a man groan, over the rising notes.

A span of time later, the door opened, and the king came out, smiled at me, and walked away. I went into the room.

There was a scent of the herb unefer—the holy plant, which exudes a pearly sap which women call ‘seed-of-Horus’—in the air; and such a strong atmosphere of mating that I paused at the portal, overawed. Finally I shook myself roughly, had I not a right to be there?—and walked in. Nefertiti was lying asleep on her bed. I threw a light cloth over her. The cool air of the night was stirring her hair across her face, and she sneezed and almost woke, then rolled on her back, her thighs open. She was slick with perspiration and utterly relaxed, and she was smiling.

I began to think that I had underestimated both the king and the love of men, and lay down on my mat to think about it. I had not got very far before I too fell asleep.

She made no verbal report to my mother the next day, but smiled at her like Hathor herself; and Tey said, almost gently, ‘I wish you joy, daughter.’

Tey ordered Khons, Mutnodjme and Merope to join the Great Royal Wife as she accompanied her Divine Spouse, Akhnamen, to the office of the Great Royal Scribe to inspect the plans for a new city. I was delighted. I had liked the young man who had brought us our teacher. Khons, too was pleased.

‘The Lord Akhnamen is building a great city at Amarna, on the other bank of the river,’ he informed us. ‘Now, my pupils, do not disgrace me before my master. Keep the questions until later and I will answer them as well as I can. Do you hear me, Lady Mutnodjme?’

‘Yes, teacher,’ I agreed. I had discovered that Khons would give me a better answer in private than I could hope for in public and I had never shocked him with any comment or request. In any case I was still thinking about what I had heard in the apartments of the Queen Nefertiti the night before.

She had seemed so different this morning, so relaxed, so beautiful; as if the old man had given her a great gift, had loosened some tight thread within her weave which had been distorting the whole human garment. There was something in this matter of human love that I did not understand, but I was determined to find it out. Mother Tey, when asked, had told me flatly that I would not know what it meant until I too lay with a man, and that was at least a year or two away, if ever, and then only if I was exceptionally lucky.

We were passing through the hall of the tribute bearers when Merope cried ‘Kriti! There are the men and women of my island!’ and we halted to survey the copper-skinned warriors, bearing cow-hide shaped ingots of copper on their muscular shoulders. Around their loins was a fringed garment; otherwise they were bare and very beautiful, with long elaborately curled ebony ringlets.

‘Indeed, Lady Merope, they are the men of your island,’ agreed Khons. ‘But we cannot linger, we will come and look at them again,’ and he took the hand of the now-disconsolate Great Royal Wife and led her on after the guards and maidens who were escorting the King and Queen.

Merope was struggling to hold back tears. To distract her, I began to whisper to her; I thought it might comfort her to hear of the excellent results obtained by my sister and the pleasure she could expect from the love of the king, even though he was old. I kept my voice low and mentioned no names, because one never knows who is listening in a palace. Merope listened and forgot to cry.

Khons, who also may have caught what I was saying, looked away and did not comment.

Nefertiti and the King were close together. His arm was around her waist and he was smiling at her as though he thoroughly approved of her lying down with his father. This was strange, but presumably it had been explained to him by the alarming red-headed woman his mother, and he had accepted it.

I could not, in fact, imagine someone not accepting anything explained to them by Queen Tiye, who would have kept explaining until there was no alternative but to agree. Not that she would have overborne his will if he had been strongly opposed, but he had not been. I reasoned that he was not sexed, so why should he bother that his father was, and why should he grudge his spouse, whom he certainly seemed to love, such pleasure as the Divine Amenhotep could provide?

And there was no doubt that he had provided it. The arrangement was that Nefertiti should lie with the King every second night for a month. She told me that she was longing for the next time.

It was a puzzle.

Ptah-hotep

I woke the next morning with Meryt asleep beside me. Her coarse black hair strayed across my face and made me sneeze, and I awoke with such a feeling of pleasurable languor that I embraced her again for the pure luxury of touching a warm breathing living creature.

She murmured, and her half-asleep hand slid down my body, found and clasped the phallus, which was erect as it usually was at that hour. She made a complicated movement which entwined our legs and I was inside that female vessel, so soft and wet and strong. Four or five strokes, not more, and I was seeding her again. She was a little disappointed, I think, but she merely held me close and said nothing.

‘Well, Master, what of the love of women?’ she asked, disengaging our bodies and kneeling up to find her cloth, kissing my mouth in passing.

‘It is very fine,’ I said truthfully. I did not love Meryt as I loved my heart’s friend Kheperren, who reported that he was well, enjoying great favour from the captain Horemheb, and missing me beyond endurance. I did not yearn towards her as I yearned towards Kheperren. But I was delighted to find that I was potent with women and she pleased me in a purely animal way. I wondered how her other masters had used her. I asked.

‘Most do not desire black flesh, so I was not raped. When the house-steward bought me I was warranted virgin, though I was not. My people have a great feast at which all virgin girls are required to lie down with the King. Since that was my father I lay under my uncle, who was heavy. He did not hurt me but he did not please me, either. If you wish, Master, I will teach you the art of pleasing women. Then, if you marry, your wife will be happy.’

‘What we have done is not pleasing to you?’ I asked, getting off my bed.

‘Not precisely, Master, though it was not unpleasant. Some men have the skill of making a woman scream with joy; they are the ones surrounded by adoring maidens begging for their attentions.’

‘Like the Lord Amenhotep may he live?’ I sluiced my body down with cool water and dried my male parts with a linen towel. My phallus was a little reddened, but not sore.

‘Yes, he is the master of love-making, it is well-known,’ agreed Meryt. ‘I will show you the caresses women use amongst themselves to give each other pleasure, after they have done their duty by harsh, unfeeling men. Then your wife will adore you and never murmur against you.’

‘I would like to please you,’ I said, overcome with a rush of pure gratitude to this generous Nubian, who had awarded me her loyalty as well as her body.

‘Then you shall,’ she said, giving me a quick kiss. ‘Now, I must order your household, for the Royal Architect is coming, even Imhotep himself, to show the King Akhnamen may he live the plans of a new city he is intending to build. I have drawn more wine from the kitchen, and we should serve them some food. Hani and Tani can attend. Is that according to your will, Master?’