Death Comes As the End (15 page)

The little maid chattered and fussed round Esa, but Esa hardly noticed her. She felt old and ill and cold…Once again she saw the intent circle of faces watching her as she spoke.

Only a look–a momentary flash of fear and understanding–could she have been wrong? Was she so sure of what she had seen? After all, her eyes were dim…

Yes, she was sure. It was less an expression than the sudden tension of a whole body–a hardening–a rigidity. To one person, and one person only, her rambling words had made sense. That deadly, unerring sense which is truth…

‘Now that the matter is laid before you, Renisenb, what have you to say?’

Renisenb looked doubtfully from her father to Yahmose. Her head felt dull and bemused.

‘I do not know.’ The words fell from her lips tonelessly.

‘Under ordinary conditions,’ went on Imhotep, ‘there would be plenty of time for discussion. I have other kinsmen, and we could select and reject until we settled upon the most suitable as a husband for you. But as it is uncertain–yes, life is uncertain.’

His voice faltered. He went on:

‘That is how the matter stands, Renisenb. Death is facing all three of us today. Yahmose, yourself, myself. At which of us will the peril strike next? Therefore it
behoves me to put my affairs in order. If anything should happen to Yahmose you, my only daughter, will need a man to stand by your side and share your inheritance and perform such duties of my estate as cannot be administered by a woman. For who knows at what moment I may be taken from you? The trusteeship and guardianship of Sobek’s children I have arranged in my will shall be administered by Hori if Yahmose is no longer alive–also the guardianship of Yahmose’s children–since that is his wish–eh, Yahmose?’

Yahmose nodded.

‘Hori has always been very close to me. He is as one of my own family.’

‘Quite, quite,’ said Imhotep. ‘But the fact remains he is
not
one of the family. Now Kameni is. Therefore, all things considered, he is the best husband available at the moment for Renisenb. So what do you say, Renisenb?’

‘I do not know,’ Renisenb repeated again.

She felt a terrible lassitude.

‘He is handsome and pleasing, you will agree?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘But you do not want to marry him?’ Yahmose asked gently.

Renisenb threw her brother a grateful glance. He was so resolved that she should not be hurried or badgered into doing what she did not want to do.

‘I really do not know what I want to do.’ She hurried on: ‘It is stupid, I know, but I am stupid today. It is–it is the strain under which we are living.’

‘With Kameni at your side you will feel protected,’ said Imhotep.

Yahmose asked his father: ‘Have you considered Hori as a possible husband for Renisenb?’

‘Well, yes, it is a possibility…’

‘His wife died when he was still a young man. Renisenb knows him well and likes him.’

Renisenb sat in a dream while the two men talked. This was her marriage they were discussing, and Yahmose was trying to help her to choose what she herself wanted, but she felt as lifeless as Teti’s wooden doll.

Presently she said abruptly, interrupting their speech without even hearing what they were saying:

‘I will marry Kameni since you think it is a good thing.’

Imhotep gave an exclamation of satisfaction and hurried out of the hall. Yahmose came over to his sister. He laid a hand on her shoulder.

‘Do you want this marriage, Renisenb? Will you be happy?’

‘Why should I not be happy? Kameni is handsome and gay and kind.’

‘I know.’ Yahmose still looked dissatisfied and doubtful.
‘But your happiness is important, Renisenb. You must not let my father rush you into something you do not want. You know how he is.’

‘Oh yes, yes, when he gets an idea into his head we all have to give way to it.’

‘Not necessarily.’ Yahmose spoke with firmness. ‘I will not give way here unless you wish it.’

‘Oh, Yahmose, you never stand out against our father.’

‘But I will in this case. He cannot force me to agree with him and I shall not do so.’

Renisenb looked up at him. How resolute and determined his usually undecided face was looking!

‘You are good to me, Yahmose,’ she said gratefully. ‘But indeed I am not yielding to compulsion. The old life here, the life I was so pleased to come back to, has passed away. Kameni and I will make a new life together and live as a good brother and sister should.’

‘If you are sure–’

‘I am sure,’ said Renisenb, and smiling at him affectionately she went out of the hall on to the porch.

From there she crossed the courtyard. By the edge of the lake Kameni was playing with Teti. Renisenb drew near very quietly and watched them whilst they were still unaware of her approach. Kameni, merry as ever, seemed to be enjoying the game as much as the child
did. Renisenb’s heart warmed to him. She thought: ‘He will make a good father to Teti.’

Then Kameni turned his head and saw her and stood upright with a laugh.

‘We have made Teti’s doll a ka-priest,’ he said. ‘And he is making the offerings and attending to the ceremonies at the Tomb.’

‘His name is Meriptah,’ said Teti. She was very serious.

‘He has two children and a scribe like Hori.’

Kameni laughed. ‘Teti is very intelligent,’ he said. ‘And she is strong and beautiful too.’

His eyes went from the child to Renisenb and in their caressing glance Renisenb read the thought of his mind–of the children that she would one day bear him.

It sent a slight thrill through her–yet at the same time a sudden piercing regret. She would have liked in that moment to have seen in his eyes only her own image. She thought: ‘Why cannot it be only Renisenb he sees?’

Then the feeling passed and she smiled at him gently.

‘My father has spoken to me,’ she said.

‘And you consent?’

She hesitated a moment before she answered:

‘I consent.’

The final word was spoken, that was the end. It was all settled. She wished she did not feel so tired and numb.

‘Renisenb?’

‘Yes, Kameni.’

‘Will you sail with me on the River in a pleasure boat? That is a thing I have always wanted to do with you.’

Odd that he should say that. The very first moment she had seen him she had thought of a square sail and the River and Khay’s laughing face. And now she had forgotten Khay’s face and in the place of it, against the sail and the River, it would be Kameni who sat and laughed into her eyes.

That was death. That was what death did to you. ‘I felt this,’ you said, ‘I felt that’–but you only said it, you did not now feel anything. The dead were dead. There was no such thing as remembrance…

Yes, but there was Teti. There was life and renewing of life, as the waters of the yearly inundation swept away the old and prepared the soil for the new crops.

What had Kait said: ‘The women of the household must stand together.’ What was she, after all, but a woman of a household–whether Renisenb or another, what matter…

Then she heard Kameni’s voice–urgent, a little troubled.

‘What are you thinking, Renisenb? You go so far away sometimes…Will you come with me on the River?’

‘Yes, Kameni, I will come with you.’

‘We will take Teti too.’

II

It was like a dream, Renisenb thought–the boat and the sail and Kameni and herself and Teti. They had escaped from death and the fear of death. This was the beginning of new life.

Kameni spoke and she answered as though in a trance…

‘This is my life,’ she thought, ‘there is no escape…’

Then perplexed: ‘But why do I say to myself “escape”? What place is there to which I could fly?’

And again there rose before her eyes the little rock chamber beside the Tomb and herself sitting there with one knee drawn up and her chin resting on her hand…

She thought: ‘But that was something outside life–
this
is life–and there is no escape now until death…’

Kameni moored the boat and she stepped ashore. He lifted Teti out. The child clung to him and her hand at his neck broke the string of an amulet he wore. It fell at
Renisenb’s feet. She picked it up. It was an Ankh sign of electrum and gold.

She gave a regretful cry. ‘It is bent. I am sorry. Be careful–’ as Kameni took it from her. ‘It may break.’

But his strong fingers, bending it still further, snapped it deliberately in two.

‘Oh, what have you done?’

‘Take half, Renisenb, and I will take the other. It shall be a sign between us–that we are halves of the same whole.’

He held it out to her, and just as she stretched out her hand to take it, something clicked in her brain and she drew in her breath sharply.

‘What is it, Renisenb?’

‘Nofret.’

‘What do you mean–
Nofret
?’

Renisenb spoke with swift certainty.

‘The broken amulet in Nofret’s jewel box. It was
you
who gave it to her…
You and Nofret
…I see everything now. Why she was so unhappy. And I know who put the jewel box in my room. I know everything…Do not lie to me, Kameni. I tell you I
know
.’

Kameni made no protest. He stood looking at her steadily and his gaze did not falter. When he spoke, his voice was grave and for once there was no smile on his face.

‘I shall not lie to you, Renisenb.’

He waited for a moment, frowning a little as though trying to arrange his thoughts.

‘In a way, Renisenb, I am glad that you do know. Though it is not quite as you think.’

‘You gave the broken amulet to her–as you would have given it to me–as a sign that you were halves of the same whole. Those were your words.’

‘You are angry, Renisenb. I am glad because that shows that you love me. But all the same I must make you understand. I did not give the amulet to Nofret.
She
gave it to
me
…’

He paused. ‘Perhaps you do not believe me, but it is true. I swear that it is true.’

Renisenb said slowly: ‘I will not say that I do not believe you…That may very well be true.’

Nofret’s dark, unhappy face rose up before her eyes.

Kameni was going on, eagerly, boyishly…

‘Try and understand, Renisenb. Nofret was very beautiful. I was flattered and pleased–who would not be? But I never really loved her–’

Renisenb felt an odd pang of pity. No, Kameni had not loved Nofret–but Nofret had loved Kameni–had loved him despairingly and bitterly. It was at just this spot on the Nile bank that she had spoken to Nofret that morning, offering her friendship and affection. She
remembered only too well the dark tide of hate and misery that had emanated from the girl then. The cause of it was clear enough now. Poor Nofret–the concubine of a fussy, elderly man, eating her heart out for love of a gay, careless, handsome young man who had cared little or nothing for her.

Kameni was going on eagerly.

‘Do you not understand, Renisenb, that as soon as I came here, I saw you and loved you? That from that moment I thought of no one else? Nofret saw it plainly enough.’

Yes, Renisenb thought, Nofret had seen it. Nofret had hated her from that moment–and Renisenb did not feel inclined to blame her.

‘I did not even want to write the letter to your father. I did not want to have anything to do with Nofret’s schemes any more. But it was difficult–you must try and realize that it was difficult.’

‘Yes, yes,’ Renisenb spoke impatiently. ‘All that does not matter. It is only Nofret that matters. She was very unhappy. She loved you, I think, very much.’

‘Well, I did not love her.’ Kameni spoke impatiently.

‘You are cruel,’ said Renisenb.

‘No, I am a man, that is all. If a woman chooses to make herself miserable about me, it annoys me, that
is the simple truth. I did not want Nofret. I wanted you. Oh, Renisenb, you cannot be angry with me for
that
?’

In spite of herself she smiled.

‘Do not let Nofret who is dead make trouble between us who are living. I love you, Renisenb, and you love me and that is all that matters.’

Yes, Renisenb thought, that is all that matters…

She looked at Kameni who stood with his head a little on one side, a pleading expression on his gay, confident face. He looked very young.

Renisenb thought: ‘He is right. Nofret is dead and we are alive. I understand her hatred of me now–and I am sorry that she suffered–but it was not my fault. And it was not Kameni’s fault that he loved me and not her. These things happen.’

Teti, who had been playing on the River bank, came up and pulled her mother’s hand.

‘Shall we go home now? Mother–shall we go home?’

Renisenb gave a deep sigh.

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘we will go home.’

They walked towards the house, Teti running a little way in front of them. Kameni gave a sigh of satisfaction.

‘You are generous, Renisenb, as well as lovely. All is the same as it was between us?’

‘Yes, Kameni. All the same.’

He lowered his voice. ‘Out there on the River–I was very happy. Were you happy too, Renisenb?’

‘Yes, I was happy.’

‘You looked happy. But you looked as though you were thinking of something very far away. I want you to think of
me
.’

‘I was thinking of you.’

He took her hand and she did not draw it away. He sang very softly under his breath:

‘My sister is like the persea tree…’

He felt her hand tremble in his and heard the quickened pace of her breathing and was satisfied at last…

III

Renisenb called Henet to her room.

Henet, hurrying in, came to an abrupt stop as she saw Renisenb standing by the open jewel box with the broken amulet in her hand. Renisenb’s face was stern and angry.

‘You put this jewel box in my room, didn’t you, Henet? You wanted me to find that amulet. You wanted me one day–’

‘To find out who had the other half? I see you have
found out. Well, it’s always as well to know, isn’t it, Renisenb?’

Henet laughed spitefully.

‘You wanted the knowledge to hurt me,’ said Renisenb, her anger still at white heat. ‘You like hurting people, don’t you, Henet? You never say anything straight out. You wait and wait–until the best moment comes. You hate us all, don’t you? You always have.’

‘The things you’re saying, Renisenb! I’m sure you don’t mean them!’

But there was no whine in Henet’s voice now, only a sly triumph.

‘You wanted to make trouble between me and Kameni. Well, there is no trouble.’

‘That’s very nice and forgiving of you, I’m sure, Renisenb. You’re quite different from Nofret, aren’t you?’