The Twice Born (15 page)

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Authors: Pauline Gedge

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical

BOOK: The Twice Born
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Afterwards there was the usual celebration in the garden. Huy spent most of the afternoon running after Heby, who at eight months was now crawling and determined to explore the invitation of the pool. Huy was uncomfortably aware of Ishat’s scornful attention as each time he scooped the baby up and returned him to the shade. He had seen little of her since that awkward conversation in the orchard. She was avoiding him. There was nothing Huy could do about it. He could make her no promises. He missed her more acutely than he had imagined he would, and her absence made him lonely. He was very glad when Khoiak began and he could look forward to returning to school.

He endured the Feast of Hathor on the first of the month, and then it was time to say his farewells and join Ker on the barge that had become a delightful part of the ritual of each new academic year. The trip to Iunu passed pleasantly in conversation with his uncle and the sailors. Occasionally he was allowed to clamber up onto the prow and take the tiller, sitting high above a river already sinking to expose the little fields glistening wetly in the sun, and it seemed to him in those moments that his life was as firmly under his control as the great shaft of wood imprisoned in his hands. Hut-herib slid quietly from his consciousness and the mighty double walls and flagged pylon of Ra’s temple filled the space the shabby Delta town had left.

His cell welcomed him with the aroma of fresh whitewash and a whiff of jasmine from the neatly folded sheets on his cot. Sighing with satisfaction, he dropped his two leather bags, both now considerably the worse for wear, on the floor, pushed the linen after them, and stretched out on his mattress. There was no sign of Thothmes, but Huy knew that his friend would appear after the evening meal. Closing his eyes, he listened as the emptiness of the compound began to fill with the familiar sounds of an old routine. Someone ran past his open door calling, “Those are my sandals, not yours, you idiot! You left yours by the bathhouse!” The shouted reply was lost as someone else, presumably a servant, dropped what must have been a basin of water and let forth a string of loud curses. The snatch of a song drifted across the grass, the boy’s voice a high, true treble, followed by a gale of laughter and a scuffle. Lazily Huy was considering unpacking his goods and then going in search of something to eat when a shadow fell across his floor. He sat up. Harnakht stood with one hand on the lintel of the doorway, regarding him critically.

“As indolent as ever,” he said with humour. “It’s good to see you again, Huy. How was your summer?”

Huy came to his feet and eyed his old guardian with interest. Harnakht’s head almost brushed the ceiling. His youth lock was gone. One plain golden hooped earring trembled against his neck and two bracelets tinkled on his left wrist. His eyes were kohled and his mouth hennaed.

“You look wonderful, Harnakht,” Huy said enviously. “I didn’t expect you to be back at school this year. You’ve shaved your whole head at last. I wondered why you kept the lock for so long.” He shrugged. “My summer was much as usual. I was busy with my new brother, though, so I had no time for archery.” In truth he had stowed away the bow and handful of arrows he had taken home and forgotten about them.

Harnakht tutted. “You’ll be sore and out of practice next week and you’ll be punished,” he retorted. “Same old Huy, doing exactly what you want in spite of the consequences. I’m back for one more year to study military tactics. I’ve decided to make the army my career. My father is happy enough.” He stepped farther into the room. “But I didn’t seek you out for the pleasure of your company, young miscreant. The Overseer sent me. You are to shepherd one of the new boys for the first month. He will be taking Thothmes’ cot. Thothmes also has a charge.” He laughed at Huy’s expression of dismay. “Now you know how I felt eight years ago when I was saddled with you! I wouldn’t trust you myself with anyone I liked, but the Overseer seems to think it’s your turn.”

Huy tried unsuccessfully to master his disappointment. “I shall do my duty,” he replied stiffly. “Where is this unfortunate boy, Harnakht?”

“He won’t be here for a couple of days. He’s coming up from Weset. The Overseer will let you know when he arrives. Oh, cheer up, Huy! It’s only for a month and if you’re lucky he won’t snivel and snore as you did. Incidentally, the High Priest himself will be leading the evening prayer in this compound tonight, so you’d better be presentable. Somehow I don’t think he’s forgotten about you.” He softened. “Seriously, Huy, you should be proud of what you have accomplished in the last eight years. To be given the responsibility of a new boy is an honour.”

Huy made a face, although he was secretly delighted at the compliment. “I suppose so. Thank you, Harnakht. I’d better make up my cot now.”

“And lie in it!” Harnakht walked away chuckling and Huy bent to retrieve his sheets.
It’s only for a month
, he thought as he shook them out.
Don’t be so selfish. You are twelve years old, no longer the spoiled darling of your family through your own will to be independent, and somewhere on the river is a frightened little child who needs you
. Nevertheless, the old familiar feeling of resentment at the intrusion into his own plans rose up to taunt him with its tenacity. Absently he finished dressing his cot and opened his bags.

By the time the evening meal was being served outdoors as usual, Huy had recovered his equilibrium, eating his onion and garlic soup, cucumber salad, and roasted gazelle, a rare treat, with a group of other boys from his class and sharing the news of his time at home. He was now allowed a cup of wine with the food. Like everything else provided for the students, it was a good vintage, dark and tart, and Huy sipped it appreciatively. Looking about at the loose clusters of white-kilted bodies dotting the lawn, listening to the murmur of conversations and the occasional muted plop as a frog jumped from a lily pad into the water of the pond, feeling the last touch of warmth from the setting sun caress his bare shoulders, he found contentment filling him once more. This was where he belonged. Tonight he would sleep with Khenti-kheti newly placed beside him, the scarab at the feet of the god, his precious palette beside his sandals ready for the morning, his kilts and shirts neatly folded away in his chest, and he would rise eagerly, his mind already impatient to be challenged.

The servants collected cups, dishes, and the table and disappeared, and for a while there was a lull. Then the High Priest swept into the compound, two acolytes beside him. He was dressed in full regalia, the leopard skin flung over his shoulder, and all present sprang to their feet. Raising his arms, the man began the hymn of praise to Ra that would change to a prayer for the god’s protection as he traversed the twelve houses of the night, and Huy joined in, the words as familiar to him now as the sound of his own name, their beauty striking him anew as they did at the start of each school year. When it was over, the High Priest paused, his gaze travelling the assembly, coming to rest at last on Huy. He smiled, the aristocratic face breaking into lines of gentleness, and Huy smiled back. Nodding, he turned away, the junior priests pacing after him, and Huy let out his breath, a vision of the Ished Tree coming clear and sharp behind his eyes. His transgression had been a long time ago, but it seemed that neither the High Priest nor he himself was destined to forget it.
At least I am forgiven
, he thought as he entered his cell, where Pabast was lighting the lamp.
The gods have visited no retribution on me. Truly I am blessed
.

He was about to undress himself when Thothmes walked in. The two friends embraced happily, but Thothmes, instead of wriggling up onto the still-unmade cot he usually occupied, perched beside Huy and crossed both arms and ankles. “I can’t stay,” he said ruefully. “I’m in the next compound with my new charge. I was late returning to school because my family was visiting relatives in Mennofer and when we got back Father couldn’t find the litter-bearers.” He shook his head. “The steward ran them to earth in one of the beer shops. I could have come on foot, but you know how protective Father is.” He turned his large, shining eyes on Huy. “How good it is to see you again! You are well? The girls have been pestering me to invite you home as soon as possible. What have you brought to tie your lock with?” It was the first year the boys were allowed to use something of their own choice to anchor their youth locks.

Huy grinned at Thothmes’ uncharacteristically animated face. “My father carved me a little wooden frog out of a piece of driftwood left on the bank of the river after the flood last year,” he said, sliding off the cot and reaching behind the image of Khenti-kheti on the table. “Look! It has green faience eyes and a loop so that I can thread it onto the leather thong I made. What about yours?”

Thothmes fingered the oily smoothness of the tiny creature. “It’s beautiful.” He nodded, handing it back. “I have silk ribbons of various colours so that I can wash them when they get dirty. Everyone complained. Mother wanted to have strips of cloth of gold woven for me, and Father commissioned silver ankhs and said I should at least hang them on the ribbons or everyone would think we were poor, but I asked him to put them on a bracelet for me instead.” He sighed. “It has been a busy summer and I am glad to be back here. You also?”

“Oh yes! But we won’t have much time to talk, for the first month at least,” Huy said regretfully. “What’s your charge like? Mine won’t be arriving for a couple of days.”

“He’s silent and frightened and wouldn’t let go of my hand until I put him to bed and told him I had to go and visit my friend.” Thothmes laughed. “He comes from Abtu and has the most enormous likeness of Osiris set up on the floor beside his cot already. It was too big for the table. But I approve of such piety. Do you realize that our Great God is in the fifty-first year of his reign? How holy he must be! What did they give you for the evening meal?”

They chatted for a while longer, Huy basking in the aura of sanity and security Thothmes always seemed to carry with him, until Thothmes stood and hugged him once again. “I really must go. I don’t want the child to wake up and have no one to comfort him.” He went to the doorway but turned back briefly. “Speaking of comfort, I don’t suppose by some miracle Sennefer has not returned this time?”

Huy snorted. “Unfortunately, he was gorging himself on gazelle meat tonight and sneering at me between mouthfuls. One day he will choke on his greed. Oh well. We’ve endured him for eight years, Thothmes, we can put up with him for a few more. Sleep well.”

“You also.”

The room emptied, the shadows deep and still against the steady flame of the lamp.
The next feast day is the Opening of the Tomb of Osiris, followed at once by the Feast of the Hoeing of the Earth and then the Preparation of the Sacrificial Altar in the Tomb of Osiris
, Huy thought as he removed his kilt and loincloth and crawled between the sheets.
Three days, one after the other, that I can spend at Thothmes’ house. I wonder if Anuket is as anxious to see me as I am to see her? Oh gods, I hope so!
As he blew out the lamp, he heard Ishat say, “You could marry me, Huy … You wouldn’t make me cook and clean and have babies, would you?” Closing his eyes and lying back in the darkness, he pushed her face away, not without an ache of guilt followed almost at once by a flash of anger. Much as he loved her, she ought not to have presumed on their close friendship. He did not realize, as he fell asleep, that his anger was not directed at her presumption but at the sudden flowering of her physical maturity. Ishat must remain forever a child.

Huy’s own charge turned out to be a stocky boy named Samentuser, whose fear was expressed in outbursts of belligerent refusals to co-operate with anything outside the classroom. When Pabast first arrived to shave off his unruly mop of black hair, he had tossed his head about, gripping the edges of the stool, his jaw thrust out stubbornly. After several attempts to apply the knife in an uncharacteristic silence, the servant looked appealingly at Huy, who was standing watching the performance with amusement and some sympathy.
What, no veiled insults, Pabast?
Huy had thought.
No sour references to a shock of peasant hair?
The Overseer had told him nothing of the child’s background, merely handing him over with what Huy later recognized as a rather sly smile. Samentuser in turn had said nothing at all that first evening, eating, bathing, and going to bed without answering any of Huy’s attempts to draw him out. He had left his cot, gone naked to the doorway of the cell, and thrown his early meal onto the grass before lying down again and facing the wall. In the bathhouse he had at least attempted to scrub himself, but he had now rendered Pabast helpless. Huy savoured the moment before squatting before the mutinous little face.

“If you do not allow Pabast to shave you, the other pupils will call you a peasant and your father a dweller of the swamps,” he said crisply. “Is that what you want, Samentuser? Perhaps you are indeed a peasant. So am I. But here you can learn to be something better, if you will behave.” He rose. “Otherwise I will hold you down while Pabast does his duty.”

Samentuser went white, then colour flooded back into his face, dark red under skin that seemed too pale for a boy. “How dare you address me in that manner!” he barked shrilly. “How is it that you do not know who I am? My father is a smer and my mother a descendant of the mighty Aahmes pen-Nekheb! I do what I like, and what I like is to leave my hair alone!” He sprang up and clenched his fists, a small, blazing ball of fury. “I hate it here and I hate you, peasant, and if this servant lays a finger on me I shall have him whipped!”

“Oh, I do not think you are a nobleman,” Huy said slowly. “Noble blood is kind to those of lower birth. A true nobleman has no need to bully his inferiors, as you will learn when you begin to study the maxims of Ptahhotep. Now sit down and behave yourself!”

“This is my third school!” Samentuser shouted. “I have heard the maxims! I hate the maxims! I want to go home to Nefrusi!”

Huy considered him carefully, wishing that the Overseer had given some indication of this child’s status. If Samentuser was not lying, it was entirely probable that a series of tutors had left the family’s estates out of sheer exasperation. Remembering the Overseer’s knowing smile, Huy decided that, given his own less-violent but just as resentful beginning, the task of taming this kindred ka had been given to him on purpose. Taking Samentuser firmly by the shoulders, he pressed him back onto the stool and held him there. “Do you love your father and your mother?” he asked.

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