House of Dreams (41 page)

“Doubtless he did not plan it that way,” I murmured back sarcastically, then gripped her hand as a blare of discordant horns sounded with sudden violence. At once a silence fell. The Chief Herald stepped out from the shadows to the left of the dais. His staff thudded against the floor three times and his chest swelled. “Ramses User-Ma’at-Ra Meri-Amun, Heq-On, Lord of Tanis, Great One of Kings, Mighty Bull, Stabiliser of the Lands, Lord of the Shrines of Nekhbet and Uarchet, the Horus of Gold, Victor over the Sati, Subduer of the Libu …” His sonorous voice boomed on, reeling out my lover’s titles. I relinquished Disenk’s palm, dry and cool, of course, although the banqueting hall was stuffy and breathlessly close, and wound my fingers together tensely.

Pharaoh strode across the dais. He had discarded the kilt in favour of a long and flowing white tunic embroidered thickly in silver ankhs that swirled about his jewelled ankles. Behind him came Ast, tiny and doll-like, her many gems now glowing dully in the torch and candle light.

Then I felt the blood fill my face, for Ramses the Prince walked after his mother, kilted and bare-legged, his glorious face framed in a white linen helmet whose wings kissed the alluring curve of his collar-bones. His fine kohled eyes flickered dismissively over the crowded hall as he settled himself onto the cushions at his table but he glanced up and lifted a helping hand to the woman who was sinking beside him. I judged her to be in her late twenties, a slim, vigorous creature with the classical features of the goddess Hathor one saw on temple reliefs, and Hathor’s warmly curving lips. “His wife, the Princess Neferu,” Disenk whispered, seeing the direction of my gaze. Naturally, I thought with a surge of bitter jealousy. A classic Egyptian beauty with a classic Egyptian name. Pure, ancient blood. Nothing less for our Prince. Then I was ashamed, for she divined the intentness of my scrutiny and gave me a fleeting smile. The High Priest of Amun had brought up the rear of the small procession and the echoes of the Herald’s voice were dying away, lost in the invisible gloom of the high ceiling. With a rustle the guests came to life and conversations broke out again.

I lowered myself onto my cushions, Disenk at my knee, and as I did so I realized that I had no interest in Usermaarenakht or his power or his pernicious influence on Pharaoh. I did not really care in what priestly snare my King struggled. Hui’s all-consuming obsession, cold and crippling, held no fascination for me after all. Perhaps it never had. Perhaps I had been flattered by his insistence that only I could save my country, but the idea seemed idiotic now. I was a girl lost in the magnificence of a dream, afloat on an ocean of absorbing fantasy. With all my senses I inhaled my surroundings: the noisy confusion of voices and laughter; the play of yellow light on a myriad of jewels that twinkled in a constant swirl of colours; the flutter and sway of rich linens; the soft glow of kohled eyes and hennaed mouths; the tantalizing odours emanating from the steaming, laden trays of food the servants were bringing, held high over their ribboned heads; and under and over and through it all, weaving mysteriously and quietly, the unremarked but seductive breath of Shu, god of the air, blowing from the night world beyond.

There were little loaves of bread shaped like frogs, and salty butter and brown, tangy goat cheese. There was quail stuffed with figs and smothered in cucumbers and onions. There were lotus seeds drenched in purple juniper oil and roots of wild sedge crusty with coriander and cumin. Delicate lettuce leaves curled around fronds of parsley and thin spears of celery. Honey and shat cakes abounded, and the wine was sweetened with dates. I had never eaten fare like this before. Disenk, unperturbed, ceremoniously tasted each dish before I placed anything on my tongue, and sipped judiciously at the wine before it slid, red and smooth, down my throat.

The cacophony in the hall increased as the evening progressed. When I had glutted myself and an unobtrusive servant had removed my table, I reclined on one elbow and watched the dais. Pharaoh was deep in conversation with the First Prophet, leaning across his wife who was daintily picking her teeth while her body servant replaced the cone on her head. The Prince’s cone had also shrunk, the melting oil having trickled in a golden stream down his neck and between his hennaed nipples to disappear where the table shadowed his tight belly. His wife had placed a hand on his arm and was leaning close to him, saying something that made him smile and turn to her quickly.

I looked away, only to find Ast-Amasareth’s eyes fixed on me expressionlessly. Her elbows were resting among the wilting flowers on her table and her ringed fingers were folded under her chin. There was nothing drunken in her steady regard, and after staring back at her I nodded. Coolly she returned the gesture.

I felt someone’s hip slide down beside mine and swung round to find Hunro, cup in hand, grinning at me. “You look like an exotic foreign goddess,” she said. “Are you enjoying yourself, Thu? Soon the dancers will appear and I shall join them. There is a troop of acrobats from Keftiu also, and a fire eater.” She drank and then signalled for the cup to be refilled. “Everyone has noticed Ast-Amasareth’s attention fixed on you tonight,” she went on in a low, teasing voice. “Everyone has been taking a good look at you, including Paiis, but as he is here with someone else’s wife and as you belong to Pharaoh he can only lust after you from afar.” She threw back her head and laughed.

There was a crash of cymbals, a patter of light, bare feet, and six dancers ran onto the cleared space in front of the dais. The women were naked, with long black hair that almost brushed their heels. The men were clad in loincloths and had bells around their ankles. Hunro kissed my cheek and rose to greet them and there was a roar from the crowd as she was recognized. Pharaoh waved at her. Even Ast smiled faintly. Drums began to thud out an hypnotic beat and I saw Hunro’s eyes slide lazily shut as her feet found the rhythm.

I too closed my eyes. I did not need to see the slow contortions of the dancers’ bodies to be drawn into the sensuality of the moment. The reverberation of the drums, the wail of the pipes, the frenzied clapping that kept time to the music, surrounded and penetrated me with a completely physical exultation. For a long time I let it carry me, and then the music changed, the cymbals clashed again, and I opened my eyes to see the dancers disappear and the acrobats come tumbling out.

Prince Ramses had disappeared also, and it was as though the night had come to an abrupt end for me. Ast was yawning behind her hand. Pharaoh was still deep in conversation with the High Priest who had left his cushions and was seated in a huddle beside the King. The guests were screaming their appreciation of the entertainment, their faces flushed with wine, their linens dishevelled, and all at once I felt entirely sober and distanced from the happy stridency around me. I rose a little stiffly and Disenk immediately followed suit but I hardly noticed her as she tugged at my arm. “Thu, we may not leave before the King!” she admonished me. I ignored her and slipped through the swaying bodies, needing the coolness of fresh air on my face. Reaching the mighty pillars through which the night seeped, I passed between them and the guards did not stop me. Pausing on the path I reached up and removed the perfume cone from my head, and rubbing the remaining oil over my arms I let it fall, and looked about me.

The sky was black but ablaze with dustings of stars, and low on the horizon a pale crescent moon lay on its back above the dark bulk of a high wall a long way away. Between the wall and me the blurred masses of thickly clustering trees quivered restlessly, their trunks tall and indistinct, and I could hear the steady music of a fountain somewhere ahead.

Hot and tired I left the paving, and stepping onto the cool grass I began to move towards the sound. I knew that Disenk was following, but in the receding cacophony of the banqueting hall and the enveloping hush of the garden I could not discern her footfalls. Before long I came in sight of the fountain, a column of fluid crystal falling ceaselessly into its wide limestone basin. “Wait here,” I ordered Disenk. “I need to drink.” Going forward I approached the water, and leaning in and cupping my hands I interrupted the turbulent flow. I drank thirstily then dribbled the water down my neck and over my breasts.

I was just shaking the droplets from my fingers when I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. Someone else was here, a dark shape on the other side of the glittering spout. It stirred, rose, and came towards me. Prince Ramses stepped out of the shadows. In momentary confusion I turned as if to flee, but it was too late. “It is the little physician, the latest harem acquisition, is it not?” he said. “What are you doing out here alone?” His tone was sharp, and as I performed a hurried obeisance and collected my thoughts I suddenly realized why. I straightened with a smile.

“No, Prince, I am not here for a clandestine assignation,” I replied. “My servant waits over there. I am on my way back to my own quarters.” He came closer, placing one foot on the rim of the basin and loosely linking his hands.

“It was hot in the hall, and the entertainment bores me,” he went on. “I have seen it all before. Besides, I do not like to sit there and watch my father grovel before lesser men.”

His words shocked me. Had he spoken them as if to himself, musing, because I was nothing more to him than the whispering trees or the shrouded flower beds that surrounded us? They contravened everything I had believed regarding the rigid code of loyalty by which the members of the immediate royal family lived. I stared at him, the last of the wine fumes dissipating. His kilt and linen helmet were smudges of grey in the dimness and his face was darkly indistinct. The oil that bedewed his body glistened dully in the starlight.

I did not want to speak up on behalf of Hui, not after the splendour-filled hours I had just dreamed through. I wanted to continue to float on a cloud of fantasy. But such an opportunity would not come again. Gathering up my native courage I said hesitantly, “I suppose that you are referring to the High Priest of Amun, Highness. I have heard that he commands while the Good God rules. It is a rumour that distresses many.”

For the first time I felt his attention become abruptly, completely, fixed on me. With a tiny grinding sound his foot left the stone of the basin and he took two swift steps. Now I could see his eyes, dusky yet reflecting the silver of the stars as they scanned me keenly.

“Is that so?” he murmured. “Is it indeed? How many does it distress, I wonder? Are you one of them, my little concubine?” He put one finger under my chin, lifting my face towards what light there was. I wanted to turn and press my lips into his palm. I met his exploration without flinching, deliberately storing up the feel of his skin against mine, the warmth of his breath across my cheeks and mouth, the sight of his features so breathtakingly close. The constant ululation of the falling water was all at once very loud in the moment of stillness while he studied me. “You really are quite beautiful,” he said at last. “And intelligent too, or so my father says. Such a combination is not always a good thing, Physician Thu, but then what does it matter when you are one woman among a thousand, eh?” He smiled, revealing his even white teeth, and bent his head lower. For one glorious second I thought he was going to kiss me, and panic, desire and prudence fought for control within me. But he only repeated his question. “Do such rumours distress you, Thu?” I was sure that he was aware of the tiny movement into him my body made, the lightning betrayal of my craving for his perfect body. Politely I pulled away from his grasp and bowed.

“The harem is always full of rumours, Highness,” I answered. “Most of them do not merit serious consideration. But the Living God is Amun’s incarnation here on earth and it is a distortion of Ma’at that a mere priest should have ascendancy over the Divine. If he does.”

“Well said!” Ramses commented drily. “You should be elevated to Egypt’s diplomatic corps, for your words are clever and yet tactful. Physician, talented concubine and now amateur official of the Double Crown. What next, I wonder?” His tone was sarcastic and my damnably fiery temper flared at it.

“I am a loyal Egyptian, Highness!” I snapped. “One among many who abhor the stranglehold the priesthood has on this country. And judging by your words a short time ago you are one of them, are you not?” I could have bitten off my tongue as soon as I heard what I had said but it was too late. Ramses was tugging at one of the wings of his helmet, eyes narrowed, seemingly unperturbed by my outburst. When he spoke it was with a smooth scorn.

“The fellahin in the fields are also loyal Egyptians,” he said evenly, “but their opinions on the subtleties of government are about as sophisticated as the baying of desert dogs under the moon. Likewise the opinions of foolish young harem inmates. I strongly advise you to keep yours to yourself, Thu, and do your best to remember your station.” Now a note of humour had crept into his voice. “If you can, of course, which is doubtful.”

“But you started it!” I almost shouted at him in frustration, sounding very much like the baying desert dog of his analogy. My fists were clenched. “Change my opinion, Highness! Inform me on the subtleties of government!” He regarded me critically but another smile hovered around his mouth.

“I begin to see why my father is becoming besotted with you,” he said. “Take my advice. Use your energies to become a good and loyal concubine, and leave weightier matters to your superiors. Love my father. He deserves this.” I opened my mouth to answer but he raised an imperious hand. “You have gone far enough. Sleep well.” Rounding on his heel he strode away and was soon lost in the gentle night before I could do him the customary reverence.

I sank onto the edge of the fountain and ground my teeth, maddened now by its stupid, interminable patter, lust and rage and admiration and humiliation churning inside me. Well, at least he will never again look through me, I told myself furiously. I can only hope that he does not take my foolish comments seriously.

But then, as I regained control of myself and began to walk back to where Disenk waited patiently, I knew that above all men I wanted Prince Ramses to think of me, to remember my words and how I said them, to ponder the sight of my face under the starlight and how my chin had felt under his hand. It does no harm to have a second arrow ready to fit to my bow if the first goes awry, I thought, as the path came into view and Disenk detached herself from the shadows. Perhaps I can gain the Prince’s respect if Pharaoh tires of me. I was turning the matter over in my mind as Disenk and I crossed the vast concourse before the main entrance to the palace, now dotted with litters and guards and sleepy, grumbling guests, and veered towards the harem entrance.