Suzanne Robinson (22 page)

“No,” said Khet. A smile brightened his face. “He liked me even after I ruined the bow Pharaoh gave him three years ago.”

They grinned at each other.

“Priests have to be extremely educated,” Anqet said casually. She stroked Meki. “You’d have to study at least another six years before you’d even become a libation priest, and then study another four years.”

“That’s ten years,” Khet said.

“And then there’s the copy work. I hope you like hymns and
The Book of the Dead
, How many chapters are there in it?”

“Hundreds.” Khet groaned.

Anqet looked at the boy sideways. “Priests are also celibate during sacred times. They’re supposed to be anyway.”

“I forgot.” Khet shuddered. “I don’t think I want to give up pleasure; I only found it a few weeks ago.”

“If you’re anything like your brother, it would drive you mad.”

Meki stood up. Khet stood up. He held out his hand to Anqet.

“Seth says we are as like as two blocks of a pyramid,” the boy said. He straightened his wrinkled kilt. “I think I’d rather be a warrior.”

“Then why don’t you find Seth and tell him?”

With a word of thanks, the boy charged off, trailed by a loping Meki.

Anqet decided to wait for Seth in the shelter of the pavilion. Someone had left a basket of flowers and greenery
inside, so she amused herself by making a bouquet. There were daisies, red poppies, and flowering rushes. Roses and woody nightshade were also in the basket, along with those most Egyptian of all flowers, the blue and rose lotuses. She buried her nose in the blood-red softness of a poppy.

A tall form shaded her from the sun’s light. Anqet looked up to see Lord Sennefer framed in the entry of the pavilion. Quietly elegant in a long robe that tied at neck and hips, Sennefer regarded her with sorrow-blackened eyes.

“So,” he said. “Once again my ungovernable brother has taken purity in his hands and soiled it.”

“You don’t understand,” Anqet said to Lord Sennefer. “We’re in love.” It wasn’t possible that she sounded like one of the lovesick friends she always teased.

Sennefer didn’t answer her at once. He tapped the book he was carrying against his thigh for a few moments and then threw it to the floor.

“Mighty Amun-Ra!”

Anqet started and dropped her bouquet, and Sennefer picked it up. His calm restored, he took a seat beside her.

“Forgive me, my lady.” Seth’s brother touched the petal of a rose lotus. “It’s just that you’re so innocent. Even now. And so good. I can’t stand the thought of what will happen.”

Beginning to feel like a mined work of art, Anqet hastened to reassure Sennefer. “Don’t worry, my lord. Seth has changed. He loves me.”

“Do you know how many women have thought my brother was in love with them?” Sennefer handed Anqet the flowers. “I should have warned you. I blame myself for what has happened. I thought he’d be distracted by Gasantra, so when she asked to come along …”

“You’re wrong,” Anqet said. The man was starting to annoy her.

Sennefer shook his head wearily. “Has he pledged to make you his wife?”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” Anqet said.

Sennefer’s anxiety was making her nervous. Why did she have to think about these things? She wanted to be
happy without having to worry about the future. Unfortunately, Sennefer had stirred up the flames of her conscience. No woman could afford not to worry about the future when it might bring a fatherless child.

Sennefer was looking at her as if she were a wounded duckling.

“He loves me,” she said again in defiance.

Sennefer stood and glanced over her head at the entrance to the pavilion. Anqet turned to see Seth bounding up the steps. When he saw Sennefer, the joyous smile faded from his lips, and he hurried up to Anqet, slipping an arm around her waist.

“Don’t speak to Khet of the priesthood again, Sennefer. He knows my decision and will obey.”

“It is for him to decide—and me,” Sennefer said.

“You gave up your rights to him long ago when you blamed him for killing your mother with his birth. Father bound him to me as my ward.”

Sennefer’s quiet voice cut through the silence that followed. “And will you be so responsible toward this innocent whom you have defiled?”

“You’d do well to follow the advice of the sage Ptahhotep;
Concentrate on excellence. Your silence is better than chatter”
Seth cocked his head to the side and surveyed his brother. “I’ll take care of Anqet.”

Sennefer’s move was so sudden that it caught Anqet and Seth by surprise. The older man gripped the count’s wrist. He jerked Seth to him, away from Anqet.

“Then, my dissolute sibling, you will marry the lady Anqet.”

Seth tried to free his wrist, but Sennefer held it fast.

Anqet stood where she was, mute and wretched. She wanted Seth to shout his willingness to claim her. Instead, the count glared at his brother, his wrist caught in Sennefer’s grip.

“I give you warning,” Seth said. “Keep your sanctimonious qualms to yourself.”

Anqet put her hand on Sennefer’s fist that still imprisoned Seth’s wrist. She stared into her lover’s eyes.

“Seth, I must know the truth. Don’t you want to marry me?”

The count made no answer His jaw was clamped shut, rigid. Sennefer yanked Seth’s wrist as Anqet dropped her hand. The venom in the older man’s face made her step back, although the wrath was directed at Seth.

Sennefer snapped out a command, “Tell her” He locked Seth’s eyes in a merciless stare, “Tell her of your betrothed.”

“
Gods
, Sennefer” Seth’s head dropped, and he leaned on his brother’s arms.

Anqet sat down. Coldness seeped into her skin, her muscles, and her bones. Her lips moved.

“Your betrothed,” she managed to say.

“No!” From his position in Sennefer’s grasp, Seth reached out to her with his free hand. “Not anymore.” The count glared at his implacable brother “Curse you, Sennefer There was no need.” He turned back to Anqet. “I was fifteen. Father arranged a match with the daughter of Prince Tjekerma of Memphis. There was a betrothal agreement by proxy. She came to Annu-Rest.” Seth closed his eyes.

“And you cast her aside,” Sennefer said.

Anqet shook her head. The pain in Seth’s face told her that Sennefer’s words did not hold the truth.

Seth lifted his head and spoke in a quiet, level tone.

“She was lovely, and devout, and her family had debts. Our marriage was to pay for those debts. One night after a game of senet, she told me of her sacrifice. That was the word she used. ‘Sacrifice.’”

“Sacrifice!” Sennefer said. “She dared to speak of sacrifice?”

Seth nodded and smiled at Anqet. “She was willing to sacrifice herself to a half-breed barbarian for the sake of her family. She said the words as if somehow my impurity would stain her like dung. Her greatest comfort was knowing that the gods would reward her in the netherworld for the happiness of which she was deprived in this life.”

“She was a fool,” Anqet said.

Seth glanced at his brother. “There were already enough people in my family who hated me. I wanted no others.”

Sennefer gave a long sigh. Anqet thought she could see regret in his face.

“None of that matters,” Sennefer said. “What matters is that you’ve refused to marry anyone at all. You take your pleasure and leave; you don’t even have concubines.”

Seth ignored his brother. He stared at Anqet as she rose and faced him.

“We can’t have love without respect,” she said. “Am I not worthy of your honor?”

Seth could only repeat, “I’ll take care of you. Beloved, marriage puts love in prison, encases it in stone. We would cast ourselves against its granite walls until we were bloody and bruised.”

Anqet backed away from Seth. She heard none of the hurt-child fear She heard the man she loved tell her only that he didn’t care enough to guard her integrity. Seth was speaking to her, but she couldn’t seem to hear him. Her lips trembled, and she pressed them together.

“It’s my fault,” she said. “I knew you; I knew the risks. It’s my fault.”

Anqet walked out of the pavilion. At the bottom of the steps, Seth’s distraught voice came to her She stopped, but didn’t turn around. Her voice rang out.

“No, my lord count. I don’t want the honor of becoming your concubine.”

Anqet walked down the path to the house without answering Seth’s call. The scuffle that took place in the pavilion failed to catch her attention, as did the inquiries of the guard Uni.

She reached her bedchamber. With unthinking, jerky movements Anqet replaced the furniture in front of the door to Seth’s suite. She cast distracted looks about the room, then settled on a stool with her harp. Her fingers lay flat and immobile on the strings.

He didn’t love her enough to marry her Seth wanted
her. He loved her. Didn’t he? Could she have been wrong? Was his affection an elaborate ruse of seduction? Oh, what made her think such a glamorous and beautiful man would love her—an ordinary country rustic?

Very well. She wasn’t a grand court lady, but she was a noblewoman with honor and property, and could accept nothing less than marriage. If Seth loved her, he should understand that she needed to know that he honored her. But what if great noblemen didn’t love? Nonsense. Only last week Pharaoh canceled an arranged marriage for one of his cousins because the young man had fallen in love with a girl from the Hare nome. Noblemen loved as deeply as commoners. It was her fate to want the only one in Egypt who feared love as one feared an evil spell.

Like crocodile after prey Anqet’s thoughts slithered and slipped through her mind. Shaken by having so quickly found and doubted love, she found herself losing the ability to judge the truth. Love had struck and fled as quickly as a duck is felled by a throwing stick.

Sennefer was wrong. That disastrous betrothal was only part of the reason Seth fled from marriage. Born into a family of permanent enemies, he had no experience of selfless love. Perhaps Seth wasn’t capable of such love. He was afraid. Her savage, brave warrior was afraid.

Anqet leaned her head on the harp, and sobbed.

The tears were dry on her face and neck and it was dark when she heard a whisper.

“My lady.”

A dark head came into view, and wide shoulders. She scrambled away, certain that Seth had come for her Strong hands grasped her.

“My lady, it is Sennefer.”

“My lord?”

“Quietly,” Sennefer said. “Dear Lady Anqet, I can’t stand by and let my brother abuse you. I have come to offer my protection once again. Come with me tonight, away from here.”

It was the only way. There was nothing for her in the house of the count of the Falcon nome.

“How will we get away?” Anqet asked.

“I have prepared. Uni has been given a sleeping draft.”

“And Seth?”

There was a pause.

“Seth is recovering from our fight.”

Anqet stood up and moved closer to Sennefer. “Is he hurt?” She was annoyed at herself for asking.

“He hit his head,” Sennefer said in a puzzled tone. “Not hard, but it appears that he already had an injury.”

“Oh. Um, yes.”

Anqet didn’t pursue the topic. Taking only a small sack of possessions, she crept through the house at Sennefer’s side. They went boldly out the front doors and through the gate where a groom waited with a chariot. Sennefer walked the horses down the avenue until they were out of earshot, then slapped them into a trot.

She dared not look back. There was a tether from her heart to the ruler of Annu-Rest, and it stretched endlessly with the distance. It wouldn’t break. It hurt so much that she hadn’t even asked Sennefer where they were going.

Their destination turned out to be a mosquito-infested hamlet by the Nile. Sennefer informed Anqet that his galley would come for them at daybreak. He conducted her to a one-room house at the edge of the settlement. A servant was waiting to take the chariot.

A bowl of oil lit the interior of the abode. A crack ran through the mud bricks on one wall. The only furnishings were a low table on which the lamp rested and a pallet. Anqet sank down on it to wait for Sennefer to finish instructing his servant. He appeared shortly. Outside she could hear the chariot being driven away. A memory stirred. Something like this had happened before.

Sennefer shut the door of the hut. Holding a flask, he stood looking down at her, a faint smile on his lips. His heavy, disheveled black locks and flushed face reminded Anqet of a statue of a conquering pharaoh. Lord Sennefer
dropped down beside her and offered her water from the earthenware canteen. Anqet drank while he watched.

“I had not thought that such beauty could be a burden,” Sennefer said.

“I don’t think my appearance remarkable.” Anqet stared glumly at the crack in the wall. Sennefer turned her face and gazed at her.

“Surely men have told you how magnificent your eyes are. Has no one ever commented on the softness of your skin?” Sennefer’s eyes roamed over her breasts. “I can’t believe my brother was the first to hunger for the feel of those curves beneath his hands.”

“Please.” Anqet looked away from Sennefer’s glittering eyes.

“I would set aside my wife and marry you,” Seth’s brother said.

Anqet hung her head, unable to meet his gaze. “I am honored.” She moved away from him. “No.”

“You still want him.”

“I will have no one.”

Lord Sennefer laid his hand on her cheek and turned her face to him. “You will have my brother, who is wicked, but you will not have me.”

Alarmed by the man’s intensity, not wanting to hurt him, Anqet could think of nothing to say. She had never suspected that Sennefer even thought much about her He was a good man. He was kind, and almost as handsome as Seth in his own way. Yet when she looked at him, she felt no rush of blood, no heat in her loins, no urge to run her hands over his bare flesh.

“I am grateful for your kindness, Lord Sennefer I am fond of you.”

“Fond!”

Sennefer’s hand slipped to her neck. Anqet shrank back at the wrath in his voice and face.

“I offer you something my own mother never had—a position as wife. I offer you love, and riches.” Sennefer’s voice dropped low. “I’ll protect you from him. He will
never touch you again. I’ll see to it. Give to me what you gave to my despoiling brother.”