Seer of Egypt (17 page)

His own treasury was dangerously depleted after the expenditures to the King, the Mayor, as the King’s representative for the khato land, and Amunnefer, for the poppy fields, and Merenra had warned him that no more gold would be forthcoming from the Royal Treasury until the beginning of the season of Shemu. But Huy, temporarily content, had not cared. There was enough remaining from the last payment to take him, Ishat, and the household to Iunu for her marriage celebrations, and he had no desire to look beyond that day. Ishat had grudgingly assessed Thothhotep’s ability as adequate, which meant, of course, that—barring any great professional or personal lapse—she was almost ready to be confirmed in her position. Yet Huy waited. Ishat might still change her mind, decide to stay with him; Thothmes might even now be meeting some woman by chance who would drive Ishat utterly from his mind. In his more reasonable moments Huy knew that such impulsiveness was not in his friend’s nature, that Thothmes genuinely loved Ishat; but in the hot afternoons when he lay on his couch in agony following the Seeings, when the blessed drug Tetiankh brought him had not yet begun to spread its balm through his body and numb his mind, when all he wanted was Ishat’s comforting hand in his, he allowed himself to believe otherwise.

Then it was the beginning of the month of Tybi and the Feast of the Coronation of Horus. Neither Huy nor Ishat had bothered much about marking the various gods’ days throughout the year. For them, the feasts meant a welcome respite from Huy’s work of healing and scrying. But Thothhotep asked Huy’s permission to go to Horus’s small shrine near the centre of the town and pray. Surprised, Huy gave her leave and ordered out the litter for her. So she was a religious girl, he mused as he stood with an annoyed Ishat and watched the conveyance sway out of sight. “I wonder how she really regards me, then,” he voiced his thought aloud. “Am I a figure of great veneration to her, a man singularly blessed by Atum, or a potential enemy of all other gods because of the power Atum has given to me?”

“It’s difficult to tell,” Ishat retorted waspishly. “She does her work as diligently as I could wish, but ventures no opinions on the members of the household and does not gossip. I suppose that such attributes are valuable in a scribe, but I find her boring.” She turned back towards the coolness of the house. “Two scrolls came from Thothmes yesterday, Huy. I did not want to unseal them in her presence. They are obviously private. One is addressed to my father.”

“It will be the marriage contract, then, and a copy for me as your guardian. The time has come to make your final decision, Ishat, before they are signed. Are you sure of what you want?”

He was following her, and as she reached the shadow of the rear doorway, she said over her shoulder, “I am not staying with you, Huy, and don’t ask me again. You have Thothhotep now. You will find her entirely unobjectionable. You no longer need my services.” Her voice was shaking.

Huy did not argue. Together they entered his office. Ishat picked up one of the thin scrolls lying on the desk. “Sign it quickly and I will take my father’s copy to him as soon as the litter returns,” she went on. “Then they can both be sent back to Thothmes. Shall I unroll this?”

He nodded. Crisply she broke the wax. “Peasants do not bother with marriage contracts,” she said as she scanned the document. “A man merely promises to provide for his new wife and any children he may have, and a woman promises to be faithful and keep her house in order. Is this a standard contract for the nobility?”

The question was careless, but Huy noted the anxious curiosity behind it as she passed the scroll to him. Quickly, he read. “I have no way of knowing,” he replied after a moment, “but I expect that the clauses are usual. Thothmes promises to support the household, and in the event of his death you are entitled to one-third of all his property, of every kind. The remaining two-thirds will be divided between any children you may have. You retain sole possession of everything you bring with you to the marriage—all land, trading contracts and profits, and personal belongings—and if later you decide to divorce him, you may take it all away with you.” He glanced up. “I think that this must be a common sort of contract, Ishat. However, if you commit adultery and thus bring the paternity of your children into doubt, you will be disinherited. I suppose all that is necessary to protect the inheritance. Nakht is rich, and so is Thothmes.”

She had lowered herself into his chair and was sitting staring at her hands, which rested limply on the surface of the desk. She had gone pale beneath her face paint. “What if I can’t live up to the image of a Governor’s wife, Huy?” she asked in a low voice. “What if I can’t learn, and Thothmes becomes so irritated with me that he has to send me back to Hut-herib?”

Then I would be a happy man,
Huy thought immediately, and was at once ashamed.

“Look at all you have learned since we left my father’s house,” he pointed out. “I also, Ishat. Your fears are ungrounded.” His gaze returned to the scroll. “There is little more, apart from the traditional gift to your parents.” His eyebrows rose. “Thothmes is being very generous. Did you notice?”

“No,” she said dully.

“He has negotiated the sale of two arouras of land from my uncle’s perfume fields so that your father might farm them for himself. He offers a cow in calf, two oxen, a plough, three pigs, flax and barley seed, and a servant to work at your father’s bidding. For your mother there are six ells of linen of the eighth grade, olive and ben oil, new pots and knives, and one deben’s weight of gold dust for trading in exchange for anything else she might need for her household. A gift to a bride’s family is expected, but this … this is extraordinary! He loves you very much indeed.”

He watched her in sudden pain as she fought whatever bleak emotion had taken hold of her at his words. Slowly, her spine straightened. Her hands disappeared into her lap. Pursing her lips against a visible trembling, she came to her feet.

“I will do my best to be worthy of him,” she said steadily. “I hope that little paragon of holiness will not spend all morning praying at Horus’s shrine, but in the meantime I’ll write to Thothmes. Sign your copy of the contract, Huy, and I will seal it and have it ready to be returned to Iunu with my father’s. I’ll have to read it to him and then watch him as he makes his mark on the papyrus. No doubt he and Mother will be pleased. They seemed to like Thothmes when they met.” Going to a shelf, she took down her palette, sank cross-legged to the floor, and busied herself in preparing her utensils. After a moment Huy left her.

Thothhotep returned in time for the afternoon sleep, and at once Ishat had Anhur provide fresh bearers and set out for her father’s house. Huy retired to his room and fell into a troubled sleep. Ishat had still not reappeared by the time he woke, had Tetiankh bathe him, and changed his loincloth and kilt. It seemed to him that the early evening was a little cooler than usual, and his impression was confirmed when Seshemnefer hurried up to him in the garden.

“Master, the flood is receding,” the gardener said. “Very soon it will be time to sow your new fields. Have you thought about what you want to grow? Flax would be profitable, but flax quickly depletes the soil. Better to seed the arouras to barley and emmer for the first year. In what state is the soil? Will it need manuring? Has it been neglected? You must hire a boy to keep the geese away from the strewn seeds, and someone to weed out the dock leaves and wild poppies and clover as the crop appears.”

Huy, looking into his polite but eager face, laughed in spite of the gloom that had dogged him ever since Thothmes had made his desires regarding Ishat known. “If you can find a suitable replacement to tend my flowers and vegetables on the estate, I’ll be happy to appoint you Overseer of the Crops of the House of Huy son of Hapu,” he chuckled. “You’re a good gardener, Seshemnefer. The Mayor chose you well for me. Go and assess my holding as soon as the river regains its banks. Hire whatever help you need. I cannot be concerned with this matter, but bring me a report every month. Your payment will of course be a percentage of the crop to store or trade as you wish. I hope Khnit won’t mind!”

Seshemnefer bowed several times. “Thank you, thank you, Master,” he said fervently. “Khnit will be so happy to see me advance in your service that she will be full of advice. Now, with your permission, I must ask Anhur for a couple of soldiers to strengthen the dike. The water feeding the new palms must not be allowed to seep back into the river.”

Huy waved him away and took a deep breath.
Another step has been taken towards a defence against the possibility of the King’s capriciousness if I anger him in the future
.
Why does he not send more of his ministers and advisers to me for Seeing? Perhaps he relies on his court magicians for predictions as well as entertainment, but somehow I doubt it. Atum’s words to him through me have troubled him, I sense it. He watches me and he waits, but for what?

Ishat emerged from the litter, hot and tired, as Merenra was unsealing the wine for their last meal of the day. Amunmose stood waiting with obvious impatience, the steam of boiled cabbage and onions rising from the tray he held. Thothhotep and Huy were already on their cushions in the dining hall. The house was full of the odours of fried fish, garlic, and coriander. Ishat flung herself down behind her table. “I need beer before wine, please, Merenra,” she sighed. “I’m very thirsty. Well, Huy, it is done. I’ve put the scroll on your desk. Did you sign your copy?” Huy nodded. “Good. Tomorrow it can all go south to Iunu. Serve us, Amunmose.”

“Your parents are well?” Huy asked as the under steward came forward and set the vegetables before him.

“Yes. And relieved to see me go, I think. Mother said that no matter how much the gifts improved their circumstances, she would go on caring for your family. I had no time to walk to your father’s house, but I saw Heby playing in the orchard. He needs a friend.” She paused to take a long draft of the beer Merenra had quickly brought, and in that moment Huy was assailed by a torrent of memories of the two of them, himself and Ishat, half naked and dusty, crouched together under the trees while they argued over the toy soldiers his uncle Ker’s chief gardener had made for him. Ishat always wanted to be the King but usually ended up as Commander of the Braves of the King, Egypt’s elite fighting force. Huy’s fingers tingled as he remembered how often he had pinched her into submission.

“Next year he can come and stay with me while the school is closed during the flood,” he responded. “Father can no longer object, seeing that you will be gone and no question of immorality in this household will exist.”

“Oh, no?” Ishat jerked her spoon at Thothhotep, who was quietly chewing, her glance moving from one of them to the other. “Your father will use any excuse to keep Heby away from the knowledge of your eccentric past. It’s bad enough that his son has become a Seer. Tell me, Thothhotep, has anyone spoken to you of your master’s terrible accident during his schooldays at Iunu?”

Thothhotep looked startled. “No. The people of the town call him the Twice Born because it was at his school that he became a favourite of Atum, and thus a Seer. That is all I know.”

Her inflection had risen at her last words, but neither Huy nor Ishat responded to the implied question. Ishat, her beer cup empty, was sniffing the cabbage appreciatively and ignored the girl. Huy gave her a smile but gestured to Merenra. “Pour the wine now,” was all he said.

The scrolls went south, and a mere week later a letter arrived from Thothmes addressed to both Huy and Ishat, warning them that he would be arriving in the middle of the month to gather up Ishat and her belongings and escort them both to Iunu.

“I have already asked Iput if she wishes to continue to serve as my body servant in Thothmes’ house,” Ishat told Huy as they stood staring at the scroll quivering in the breeze from the window where Huy had laid it on the desk.

It looks so innocuous, so harmless,
he thought,
but it holds within it the spell that will change my life forever.

“I dare say she agreed at once,” he replied wryly. “What is this household compared to the luxuries and excitement of an Assistant Governor’s home? I suppose I must find a replacement for her, someone to serve Thothhotep.”

“Thothhotep is quite used to seeing to her own personal needs,” Ishat said darkly. “A body servant will only embarrass her.”

Huy laughed aloud. “How long did it take you to become used to having your hair dressed every day by other hands than your own, and your laundry done, and your face painted?” he mocked her. “How quickly we forget the days when you hauled our linen to the river to wash it yourself, and kohl was something you could only dream of! Thothhotep must be cared for, Ishat, otherwise she will not have the time to attend to my needs.”

Ishat made a face. “All the same, Huy, she’s a simple girl who wants nothing more than a few plain dresses and a pot of unscented oil to keep her happy. Anything more will corrupt her.”

Huy cupped her face. “Your jealousy is flattering,” he began, and at that she jerked her head out of his hands.

“And your insensitivity is wounding!” she flashed back. “Gods, Huy, why can you not see my pain? Find her some town waif of her own class she can gossip and giggle with if you like! Why should her welfare outside her duties as scribe matter to you anyway?” She stalked away, her four gold-hung braids swinging.

I do see your pain,
Huy replied to the empty air still redolent with her perfume.
I have seen it every day for years, my darling Ishat, and I cannot bear it anymore.

He instructed Merenra to hire a suitable body servant for Thothhotep, his only stipulation being that the woman must not come from the household of any of the King’s local officials; and within hours of the directive Huy was accosted by Amunmose as he was walking along the passage to the rear door. The under steward was half buried under a load of what Huy recognized as Ishat’s freshly laundered sheaths. “A word, Master, if you please,” he called as Huy brushed by him with a smile. “Merenra tells me that you’re looking for a body servant for Thothhotep?”