The Eye of Horus (11 page)

“I have missed you, little lotus bud,” I whispered in her ear. “You are growing so fast you soon will be as tall as your mother, and just as beautiful.” Embarrassed, she tucked her face into my neck and in that moment caught sight of Aset.

They stared at each other until I set Nebet back on her feet, holding her hand while she found her balance. A
wah
collar of safflowers and persea blooms circled her neck, like those her parents offered their female guests on such occasions, but she was wearing a short tunic so Aset could see the jointed brace. It extended from her ankle to her hip and was made of a thin bundle of reeds bound with gum-soaked linen, for lightness and flexibility.

“My name is Aset, and this is Tuli.” She clicked her fingers, and he sat up on his haunches. Nebet covered her mouth with her hand to hide a smile. Next Aset dug in her bag for the papyrus-root lion. “Would your crocodile like to play with my lion?” she asked, holding it out to the other girl. Nebet has always been fearful of strangers, and I could not be certain she would accept the offer of friendship. But Aset seemed to sense that she was shy and let her take her time.

When Nebet reached for the lion, Aset held out her arm and said, “Here, you can hold on to me.” Nebet is tall for her age while Aset is small for hers, so they were not so far apart in height. “I promise not to let you fall. And you are not to worry about your hip. Tenre will fix it. Truly. He gave me life when no one else could. Even Paga says there is no one
his equal in all the Two Lands. Except your father, of course. Tenre says
he
is the best physician in this world. Then when you can walk better, we will go all sorts of places together. Would you like to pretend that Tuli is our baby brother? We could tie this piece of cloth around his hips for a kilt. If he is good, you might even give him a piece of the candy I brought you.”

I left them then and went around to Mena’s garden, where his other guests stood about, women with other women and men with men, sipping wine and talking. Tall for a woman, Mena’s wife stands eye to eye with most men, and disarms them with her penetrating insight as well as her beauty. Tonight Tetisheri wore a white gown fringed with blue, a gold necklace inset with lapis lazuli, and a wreath of flowers like Nebet’s.

“It has been too long, Tenre.” She touched her cheek to mine and whispered, “Now that you are here to keep the hyenas from attacking his back, I can relax and enjoy myself.”

“Fear not, Sheri. It was your husband who kept the crocodiles from eating me when we were boys,” I murmured, holding her close long enough to explain about Aset.

“Do you seduce my wife before my very eyes?” Mena called, clapping me on the shoulder as he slipped his other arm around Sheri. That she chose him amazes Mena still, I think, for it has changed him in ways that neither of us could have anticipated. I made a show of inspecting him, from his gold armlets to the hem of his pleated hip wrap and purple belt, the ends weighted with nuggets of turquoise.

“Take care, my friend, lest one of your soldiers mistakes you for a woman.” He laughed and slapped my cheek, a familiarity he does not visit on anyone else.

“Come, let me get you some wine and introduce you to our guests.” He led me to three tall clay jars standing like soldiers at attention, their bottoms planted in a bed of wet sand. “We have Antyllan, but the Ymet is better.”

“I have the tongue of a peasant, so I will leave the choice
to you.” I spoke in jest, then realized it was true. “I do not belong here, Mena.”

“It was your pure heart and good sense that took Ramose’s eye, not your taste in wine.” He grinned, knowing he had me in the palm of his hand. “Ymet it is then—the white gold from Lake Mareotis.”

Several men attended the guest of honor, but Mena did not hesitate to interrupt. “It is my pleasure, General, to present my friend Senakhtenre, physician of Waset like his father before him.” He began to recite Horemheb’s titles. “Commander of Pharaoh’s Armies of the North and the South, First—”

I noticed that Horemheb has eyes like a bird, with lids that stand wide open and irises as black as the pupil, leaving them without depth. He also is so big that only one man stood taller. The Nubian.

“You are too short,” Horemheb said to me. “Our host speaks so highly of your skills I expected a man at least twice your size.”

I risked a glance at Mena and found him grinning like a fool. “In that case, General, he has misled us both. The last thing I expected of you was a sense of humor.” The Commander of Pharaoh’s Armies honked like a goose while Mena’s ruddy face turned even darker.

He hurried to perform the other introductions, leaving the Nubian to last. “And my aide, Prince Senmut, son of the King of Aniba.” In all the talk of his young assistant, Mena never had mentioned that he was royal or from the province above the First Cataract. But Senmut did not wear his hair bobbed above the ears like his countrymen, and his skin is black as night, not brown. Indeed he is fortunate in his wide mouth and straight nose, both suggesting that his forebears came from Punt, the land near the mouth of the Red Sea.

Mena guided me across the garden to the cluster of men standing with the High Priest, Ramose among them. “You have heard me speak of my physician, Senakhtenre,” he said to Paranefer.

“Sunu,”
the High Priest intoned, putting me in my place. Tiny red worms crawled beneath the skin of his fleshy nose and his yellow fingernails curled over the ends of his fingers, both signs that his time in this world grows short.

As we moved on, Mena mentioned the tomb Paranefer builds in the Place of Truth. “A pyramid, no less, though a puny one compared to those of the ancients. He claims only to want a view of Amen’s northern temple, but I say he wants to remind those who would usurp the power of Amen that
he
is the one who turns men into gods.”

“He could pass as brother to the Pharaoh who strides across the walls of more than one temple, so perhaps he has reason to ape the old ones.”

“You have as much taste for intrigue as the rest of us, Tenre, despite your protest to the contrary.” We both saw Sheri motioning him to come to her. “Which means you are capable of fending for yourself while I see what my wife wants. I see Senmut has become bored with politics and watches the dancers. Go talk with him.”

A grassy area beyond the tile-lined pond had been roped off for the dancers and musicians. The torch flames danced to the music, as well, while the palms fronds waved like lazy fans in the evening breeze. Even the serving girls weaving in and out among Mena’s guests moved to the music, offering dates dipped in cinnamon, grapes and sliced melon, or fried balls made of bean paste.

Senmut seemed engrossed in one dancer in particular, who followed the rising beat with ever more erotic moves. “See that leg?” he asked when he saw me.

The girl he pointed to wore a likeness of the god Bes tattooed on her thigh, but otherwise looked like all the others, with the same string of hollow beads around her hips. “A good-luck charm,” I said, stating the obvious.

“She will need it. Look at her spine, just to the left of the dimple. The leg with the tattoo is shorter than the other, though she makes up for it with the pliant muscles of youth. But give her a few more years and she will be crooked as an
old crone.” I saw that he was right. “What would you do to stop that from happening?” he asked.

When he turned to me, I was struck again by the handsomeness of his face. “To attach something to one foot would only bring attention to her affliction and put an end to her dancing,” I replied. “No house of pleasure would take her in, nor would any man want her for his wife, knowing she might visit her affliction upon his children. How would she eat?”

“Soon she will barely be able to hobble,” he snapped. “How will she eat then?”

“Given the choice, I would prefer to find pleasure while I can, rather than have my legs match and starve now. What about you?” I held his eyes, challenging him to admit what he did not want to, that neither solution satisfied.

“Perhaps,” he muttered. “But I do not like your choice. It is not
maat.”

“Exactly,” I agreed, throwing caution to the winds because I understood for the first time that it was Senmut’s restless curiosity and impatience with ignorance that endeared him to Mena. “And the only way we are likely to find a better answer is to somehow learn to ask the right questions.”

He gave me a sheepish grin. “I only wanted to hear you reason with my own ears. Your name is too much like honey on Mena’s tongue, especially when he talks of your experiments.” That Mena entrusted such secrets to him surprised me. “I came here tonight to tell you I would consider it an honor if you would let me help. Only say what you want me to do.”

“I hear the Hittites cleanse their hands with plant ash dissolved in water, while the Babylonians boil olive oil, ashes, and natron together to make a washing paste. Perhaps you will encounter someone who knows which is better, and why.”

He nodded and waited. “You can trust me, Senakhtenre. Truly.”

I almost capitulated then, but he was a stranger, and the habit of caution is an old friend. “Which teacher in the House of Life did you find most enlightening?” I asked, to see if he played politics with me.

“Khay-Min, Chief Physician of the South, who is as gifted in examining with the hand as he is fortunate in his daughter.” He pointed to Sheri. “But I have learned even more from Mena.”

“Who taught you what you consider to be most useless?” It was a trick question, intended to reveal his true color no matter how he answered. Again he turned, seeking someone. “That one standing with Neterhotep and Aperia, watching the baboons. The one who dresses like a peacock is Neterhotep, mayor of Waset. It is the other one I mean, Bekenkhons, who oversees the cutting of boys who are to become priests.”

“Then he is a
ka
priest, not a physician in the House of Life,” I pointed out, “and would have no part in your training.”

“He demonstrated how he cuts the labia and clitoris on the women of his harem, saying it makes them more tractable. But he takes pleasure in the maiming as well since he spilled his seed even as he wielded the knife. On some women he cuts everything away and seals the vagina, leaving only an opening the size of a slender reed for urine and blood to pass. The woman has to be forced open by her husband, not a pleasurable task for any man except one bent like him.”

“Surely you jest. Mena would never invite such a man into his house.”

“He came in the retinue of the High Priest, not by personal invitation.”

A burst of feminine laughter drew our attention to a group of women. Only Nefertiti among them veiled her body with a robe that outlined her breasts, abdomen, and thighs when she moved. The woman beside her with one breast uncovered had to be the General’s wife, since Mutnodjme is known to keep two female dwarfs constantly by her side. It
is because of them that she is rumored to be the prostitute depicted on the wall of a recently deceased noble’s tomb. But she was not alone in cheering the two red-eared baboons who fought each other off while one and then the other tried to copulate with the third, a female whose hindquarters glowed bright red.

“Neterhotep and Bekenkhons are not the only ones who enjoy Horemheb’s baboons,” Senmut observed. “The General sent them over for tonight’s entertainment because the female is in heat.” While we watched, Nefertiti turned, seeking Ramose with her eyes. “That one breathes fire when she so much as looks at the priest, so you can be sure
she
is intact. She only appears calm and serene on the surface,” Senmut added, “while underneath she seethes like a banked fire, needing only a little stirring to burst into flames. I hear she is so demanding the priest has no seed left for his other women.”

“Never doubt that Ramose is a willing accomplice in whatever scheme the priests are plotting,” Mena put in from behind my shoulder. His words sent a chill down my spine, reminding me of what the mayor’s son told Aset—that the Sacred Council planned to put “one of their own” on the throne. “But if either of you had a woman of your own, you would not have to speculate about what other men do with theirs. Come, the roast goose awaits us inside.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Sheri asks you to look in on one of the servants first, Tenre, who has gone into labor.”

I invited Senmut to come with Mena to my house in town, and went in search of Tetisheri. A delicious odor pervaded the house, especially when a serving girl hurried past me with a roasted goose. Another followed her carrying honey cakes speckled with nuts and seeds, and small loaves filled with coddled eggs. But Sheri was nowhere about, so I went to Nebet’s rooms instead. Before I reached the door I could hear the two girls talking and giggling. I found them on the floor with chips of limestone scattered all about, so I knew that Aset had been entertaining Mena’s daughter with her
picture stories, as she does more and more lately when accompanying me to visit a sick child.

Aset saw me first and jumped to her feet. “Is it time to go already?”

Before I could answer, Sheri arrived with Pagosh close behind her. “It is the Queen, Tenre. No one else is to be called until after you examine her, to learn whether her babe still lives. Then the priests and others must be summoned. So Mena must remain here lest someone suspect. Pagosh will show you the way.”

My thoughts raced in anticipation of what the next few hours might bring, not only for me but all the people of the Two Lands. But first I went down on my knee to Aset. “You must stay with Nebet until Pagosh returns to take you home.”

“Is it time for my sister’s babe to come?” she asked, her big eyes solemn. I nodded. “Then you must ask Mena to lend you his bag of medicines, just for tonight.” Until that moment it had not occurred to me that I had come away empty-handed. “Don’t forget the itasin ointment,” she added.

I nodded, drawing courage from her confidence in my skills. “What would I do without you?” I whispered, and waited for a smile to light her eyes. Instead she threw her arms around my neck and gave me a fierce hug. Then, just as quickly, she stepped back to let me rise to my feet.