House of Dreams (30 page)

Two weeks went by. I had regaled an envious Disenk with a highly coloured account of my brief visit to the halls of power, describing Prince Ramses of course but remaining silent regarding my reaction to him. That I hugged to myself. In the moments before I fell asleep at night, in the times when my hands were occupied but my mind could wander, and best of all, when I lay outside the bath house while the young masseur’s hands moved over me, I daydreamed about him. I was once again a servant girl, this time in the harem, seeing to the needs of Pharaoh’s concubines. The Prince entered on some errand for his father. Pain overtook him, he collapsed under my concerned eye. My box of medicines at the ready I ministered to him, my fingers moving over him to locate the source of the problem (and oh the sheer thrill of that fantasy!). He was imprisoned by his pain and my touch. He was able to inspect me closely as I worked. “We have met before,” he said in surprise. “I now remember your blue eyes. Are you not a member of the minor nobility, from the south? Why are you in this menial position?” And he would take me to his own quarters. There would be a marriage contract in the end. I would be the Princess Thu, envied and idolized by the whole court, the whole country.

Disenk had listened to my excited story with nods of approval, as though she was responsible for my success. Of course, in many ways she was. “Perhaps you will go there with the Master again,” she said rather wistfully, but Hui made no more mention of my small adventure and the days regained their former predictable shape.

The day after my naming day, however, I was summoned to the office. Hui was behind the desk, and on it lay a thin scroll. He had broken the seal and small pieces of blue wax littered the surface of his table. I thought at first that it must be a letter to him from my father and anxiety shook me as I bowed and perched on the edge of the chair my Master had indicated. My apprehension deepened as he said nothing. His thoughtful gaze travelled me slowly, from my neatly beribboned hair to my linen-draped knees, and I kept my eyes on his face. I do love him, I thought. Not with the fever I believed I felt, but with something more sane. As though he had read my mind he suddenly looked up and smiled warmly. “We have grown close to one another, you and I, have we not, my Thu?” he said. I nodded vigorously. “You were a sullen, impulsive, stubborn child when you hauled yourself aboard my barge that night in Aswat, so long ago. I knew when I first saw you that you would be important to me, but I did not know how attached to you I would become.” He sighed. “There is a perverse pleasure in moulding the growth of another human being. One can quickly become as possessive as a master with a slave. Your fearsome native intelligence has saved me from that fate, I think. You have become a good physician in your own right, and in doing so you have ceased to be my toy. Yet you are very young.” He pushed the scroll towards me. “This was inevitable. Give me your opinion.”

I took the papyrus and unrolled it carefully. The hand was not Pa-ari’s and I smiled in relief, but the grin soon left my face. The missive was written in very formal hieroglyphs, not the racing hieratic script of swift or casual correspondence, and was of a piercing beauty. This scribe was at the pinnacle of his trade. “To the Most Noble Seer and Physician Hui, greetings,” I read aloud. “On the Feast Day of the Great God of War, Montu, we were pleased to receive and be attended to by your charming assistant, Thu. Her medicine has been most efficacious, and on allowing her to minister to us, we were disarmed by her beauty.” I glanced up, shocked. “This is from Pharaoh!” I blurted. Hui waved at me to go on. “Having endured several sleepless nights injurious to our health and therefore to the health of blessed Egypt, we blame the intensity of her blue eyes and the pertness of her conversation. We have conceived a desire to alleviate our distress by a renewed and hopefully prolonged encounter with this female. We therefore petition you, as her guardian, to facilitate her removal to our harem as soon as the permission of her father, if he lives, may be obtained. We guarantee, of course, that all her reasonable needs will be met and that she will be treated with the care and respect accorded to every woman fortunate enough to belong to the Horus Throne. By the hand of my Chief Scribe, Tehuti, I am Ramses Heq On, Lord of Tanis, Mighty Bull, Great One of Kings …” I could not go on. The scroll rolled up with a rustle and I needed both hands to place it with exaggerated care on the desk. “Hui what is it?” I cried out. “What is it?”

“Pharaoh has conceived a passion for you,” Hui said gently. “He wants you for his concubine. Do not be so distressed, my Thu. It is a great honour, one every daughter of our noble families would kill for. What do you think?”

Visions came tumbling through my mind: Pa-ari and me by the water’s edge at home in Aswat and I watch with bated breath as he traces out my first writing lesson in the dirt; Pa-ari and I sitting together out on the desert while Ra sinks towards the horizon, and my restless ka finds a voice that goes shrieking across the wastes to the feet of the gods themselves; my mother and her friends sipping wine and gossiping while I sprawl beside them and dream of the merchant who will come to Aswat and need a scribe … The parade slowed. I saw myself on Hui’s barge, wet and frightened and determined. I heard his mocking, arrogant voice. Hui the mysterious, Hui the Seer. The Seer …

My hands left the scroll and clenched. I felt my whole body tense, and I got out of the chair and stood rigid. “You knew it would come to this,” I said softly, urgently. “You knew, didn’t you, Hui? Because you planned it all. How stupid I have been! You bring me here, you keep me away from every contact outside this house, you alternately bully and coax me so that I become completely reliant upon your good wishes. You pamper and train me like an athlete for the wrestling, the wrestling, yes!” I was finding it difficult to catch my breath, so violent was my emotion. I thumped the desk with one angry fist. “What kind of wrestling, O my Master? The sweetest kind of all? You deliberately took me to treat Pharaoh, knowing his taste for young girls, gambling on his immediate interest. You have been using me all along! But why?” I burst into tears and could not go on.

Hui had risen, and now he came around the desk, and taking me in his arms he lowered himself into the chair I had left, cradling and rocking me as though I was a baby. I struggled to free myself, to no avail. He held me tightly until I gave up and curled into his breast. Then he began to stroke my hair soothingly.

“No, Thu,” he said calmly. “I have not been using you all along. I have told you—I did indeed see your face in the Seeing Bowl before you stood in the darkness of my cabin at Aswat. I recognized you at once, and knew that you would be vitally important to me. To me alone! Are you listening?” I did not respond and his fingers did not pause, continuing to draw themselves tenderly down my scalp. “I did not know in what way you and I were linked,” he went on. “It was only later that I began to see the possibilities latent in the situation. I cared for you. I care for you now. Do you believe me?”

“No,” I said sulkily, my face pressed into his neck, and I felt his muscles move as he laughed shortly.

“That is better. Your tears never last long, my Thu, even when they are shed from self-pity. When I realized how useful you could be, I began to arrange your education accordingly. Do not be angry any more. Here.” He lifted the hem of his kilt. “Dry your eyes and sit up and listen to me.” I could not refuse him. Grudgingly I did as I was told, turning to look into his face, those pale, handsome features I had grown to love and fear. “You do indeed match Pharaoh’s taste in female flesh,” he said. “You are young and beautiful and your body is slim and firm. But those things alone would have meant nothing. Girls with those qualifications are numerous, and Pharaoh has bedded and discarded dozens of them over the years. Three things decided my course of action. Your blue eyes, so exotic and un-Egyptian, the intelligence that made you such an apt pupil, and your character. You are at heart a ruthless, scheming, selfish little thing with the ability to sink your teeth into what you want and hold on until it is utterly your own. Do not squirm! I speak only of your less endearing qualities. I too, dear Thu, and the men you met the other night who gathered here to look you over, we also are ruthless and scheming. But we are first and foremost loyal and worried sons of this mighty country.” He had my attention now. I climbed from his knee and went rather unsteadily to sit in his chair behind the desk where I could see him better. Sobs still choked me but I had stopped crying.

“Explain to me,” I hiccuped.

“We want you to accept a position as Pharaoh’s concubine,” he said bluntly. “We believe that you have the skill to hold yourself in his favour long after most of the other young concubines have ceased to distract him. You can intrigue him, entertain him, and as time goes by, influence him away from the disastrous policies he now endorses.”

“That is ridiculous,” I snapped. “How could I possibly make the Great One do anything other than make love to me? You would do better to suborn one of his advisers.” I was still smarting from his earlier words and from the knowledge that I had been only a gaming piece. Yet I was flattered also. He naturally knew that I would be.

“His advisers know that their futures depend on showing the priests in a good light,” Hui told me. “But his women have nothing to lose. Those who fall from grace simply retire to the luxury of the harem. And Ramses is very susceptible to the whims and wishes of women. He has a lascivious nature. He is a kind man, and honest in his way, but he is frightened. You are strong, Thu, and wily. You will get to know him and then manipulate his decisions.” He leaned forward and spoke earnestly, without artifice. “Egypt needs you, Thu. Make Pharaoh your tool, for his own good and the good of Egypt. Help us to break the stranglehold the temples have on the Horus Throne and restore a true Ma’at to this holy country!”

“You are sure that I will accept, aren’t you?” I said ruefully. “What if I refuse?”

“How could you?” he countered. “Is it not the culmination of every dream you have ever had? Nay, is it not greater than your dreams? You are not one to turn away from such a challenge and besides, I will help you. So will Paibekamun and Panauk and the others.” He came to his feet and held out a hand. “Talk it over with Disenk if you like. You can take her with you if you go. Think about it and give me your answer tomorrow. Then we will take a little trip to Aswat, to consult with your father.” I walked to him but did not take his hand.

“You are talking again as if I will do what you wish,” I said, my voice still muffled with the tears I had shed. “But it seems to me that you have used and betrayed me no matter how you may justify your actions, and I am wounded and sad. Why should I do anything to help you, Hui?”

“Because it will be Egypt you help, not me,” he replied promptly, “and in spite of how you feel, did I not take you out of the bondage of the earth and give you a new life? Is that not worth a little gratitude?”

“Not if you did it for your own ends.”

“I have already told you that it was not.”

“So you did.”

“Then swallow your pride and recognize that I love you even if I have used you. And Thu …” I had already moved to the door but I paused, one hand on the wood.

“Yes?”

“You need not have murdered Kenna after all. His hatred of you would have made no difference to me. You were always far more important than he.” Were the words a reassurance, a threat or a warning? I did not know, and I had had enough. I did not look at him. I let myself out of the office and made my way almost blindly back to my own room, but as I went a thought struck me. I had met Pharaoh on the feast Day of Montu, the great Theban God of War. My totem, Wepwawet, was also a God of War. And did I not believe that I was born to be a fighter?

12

TWO WEEKS LATER
, at the end of Epophi, we set sail for Aswat. The river was at its lowest, with very little current running to slow us down, and the prevailing summer wind out of the north took us inexorably south. Disenk and I travelled on Hui’s barge, sleeping on cushions under the canopy that had been erected against his cabin, while his body servant, Neferhotep, shared his quarters. Behind us came the barge carrying our supplies and the numerous domestics who would care for us. Among them was Ani and his palette, on which he would write my father’s agreement to allow me to enter Ramses’ harem as a concubine.

I had embarked at Hui’s watersteps with a feeling of pride, remembering how different my last journey on this boat had been. Somehow the word had passed among the household staff that I was to move into the palace, and I was treated with a new deference. On the servants’ barge was my young masseur, my exercise instructor, the foods I liked and my favourite clothes. While Hui lay on his travelling cot hour after burning hour, a prisoner of his white skin, Disenk and I lolled under the canopy, sipping water or beer, and watched the country glide by.

Even at the height of the dead season, Egypt was beautiful. Scorched and parched, brown and dusty, there was still an ageless harmony in the lines of jagged palm groves and drooping tree branches, the clusters of whitewashed village huts giving way to the cracked earth of waiting fields, and behind it all the beige shimmer of the desert meeting the occasional cliffs sharp as knife edges against an unrelentingly blue sky.