Out of the Black Land - By Kerry Greenwood Page 0,106

a sharp edge to it which compelled attention, even though she was singing of love, the song of a maiden to her chosen man.

It is sweet, favoured boy,

To bathe in the river.

If you come this way

Down the green path

You may see me naked

Standing in the water.

Everyone was listening. The voice came from an old woman. Under the long Hathor-wig, with its curled-up ends, her hair was white; her breasts had fallen, her loins under their beaded belt and tassel must have been as dry as old leather. Even her hard-soled feet were wrinkled, with horny nails like the yellowed nails on her hands.

But what I could see, if I closed my eyes, was a slender maiden teasing a boy no older than herself with erotic visions.

I shall stand in the water

So you can see me;

I shall turn from you

So you shall see all of me.

Look at me, beloved,

I am worth your gaze.

I felt an emotion rising which was not mine, though I shared it. My lord was thinking the same as I; how sweet it would be to go down to the river and bathe, then lie together in the reeds. I had never done such a thing, but he had.

I shall swim down

And bring up a red fish.

I shall hold it between my fingers

It will be happy in my hands

I shall lay it between my breasts

Beloved, come and watch!

If anyone in that hall was in any doubt as to the variety of red fish which the singer wished to make happy in her hands, they must have been deaf. The Singer of Hathor allowed the musicians to play a bright dance tune while she drank some wine.

I smiled at my lord, and he left his scribes and came to me, sitting down at my feet. I was amazed that he would sit thus, a sign of submission, and I could not have it so I joined him on the floor and we sat shoulder to shoulder while maidens passed by us with more wine and the heset began to sing again. She sang sadly to a heartrending tune.

My love is on the other side,

My desired one is across the river

The water is deep and runs strongly

The water is the crocodiles’ home.

The pipes joined in, playing a sad lament behind the harsh voice, which now sounded male. The heset was clearly a woman of power.

Ptah-hotep touched my side, just above my hip bone with the tip of one finger, and I gasped. Then I drew my nail very lightly across his shoulder where the collar bone leaves a hollow, and felt him react. Whatever power we had been given by the gods, we still had some of it.

I do not fear the river depths.

I do not fear the waiting teeth

I walk the riverbed as though it was land

I will come to you, my love.

The lament changed imperceptibly to a celebration. The voice swooned with pleasure as Hathor’s singer finished the verse:

Wet, I will walk into your house.

Wet, I will lie down beside you.

Wet, you will embrace me

Wetter still shall we be.

The song shifted into more dancing music, and a troupe of Nubian women came in, wild dancers in body-paint and feathers. I could not get near Makhayib to congratulate her, nor did I have any little ornaments or beads with me to throw.

And Ptah-hotep was beside me and I did not want to move. He leaned closer to me in the salutation called ‘the exchange of breath’ and rubbed his cheek against mine. He smelt sweet, felt sweeter. I wanted to caress him, make love to him; my urgency astonished me, and I punched down my desire as a woman kneads prematurely-risen dough.

‘We will have to stay until the last of the food is served. I am told that the King has ordered something special which he wants us all to taste,’ he whispered. ‘After that, lady, will you come to my bed?’

‘Yes,’ I said promptly. I had never learned the art of teasing and flirting and it was too late to start, now that I had given away my heart.

‘More wine!’ declared a woman near me. She was swaying on her chair and I moved aside in case she was about to throw up all over me—which had happened at these feasts often enough.

‘You, Lady Mutnodjme, you have a lover with you! Let him declaim a poem to you. It is a night for love!’

I was about to demur—I was sure that Ptah-hotep, though an excellent person and the