two of them to come to him, then he countermanded the orders.’
‘Whom did he summon? It’s all right, child, no one is angry with you. I am as grieved as you are that the young king is now with Osiris. It’s all right to talk to me.’
‘Of course, lord,’ Khety-Tashery looked shocked. ‘You are the just judge, lord, and anyway my father says that you were never unjust even when you and he were boys together.’
‘Ask your father about the night that Hanufer, Ptah-hotep, Kheperren and Khety stole four sesame-seed cakes from the Master of Scribes’ kitchen.’ I smiled at the boy and the memory.
‘I’ll ask him. Oh, the names of the persons he summoned? It was Nakhtamin, lord; and Divine Father Ay. But then he called the messenger back.’
‘Thank you, Khety-Tashery.’
I took a small constitutional to the office of Nakhtamin, Fan Bearer on the King’s Right Hand, about whom I had always had doubts. He was responsible for the conduct of the king’s entertainments and feasts, and for a long time I had heard rumours, though nothing I could substantiate, that he was being given presents by troupes of dancers so that he would employ them. Performing at the palace was a way of ensuring success and many subsequent engagements.
The office was silent; as it should be. No business was supposed to be conducted in the seventy days in which the kingdom prepared for the burial of a king and the accession of a new Pharaoh. I knocked at the door, and heard a flurry of movement and then a smothered giggle.
‘Nakhtamin, it is Ptah-hotep,’ I said, and the door was flung open and I was ushered inside by three entirely naked women. They were shining with oil. They looked like tumblers with their long hair tied into tassels and the dancer’s muscular, long-limbed build. They were all avoiding my eyes, though their nakedness was part of their trade.
Nakhtamin was disclosed, also entirely naked—which was not proper for his trade—lying on a pallet bed with a young woman astride him. He saw me, lost firmness in the part in which the girl was most interested, detached her and waved his hands at the women to go away. They dived for the door but I ordered them to halt.
‘Sit down, most beautiful of women,’ I said. Do not tear our eyes from the contemplation of your beauty. Greetings, Nakhtamin, I am sorry to have disturbed your mourning. I was wondering if you had spoken to the Pharaoh Tutankhamen-Osiris just before he died? I seem to have no note of the conversation in the records.’
‘He wanted to see me,’ agreed Nakhtamin. ‘About some of these scandalous rumours about bribery which are, of course, not true.’
‘Indeed, I can see that,’ I said politely. The girls giggled again, covering their mouths with their hands. They really were very attractive, and may have thought that mating with Nakhtamin, who was presentable enough, was a reasonable fee for an engagement at the palace.
‘And what did the Divine King have to say to you? I asked.
Nakhtamin scowled. ‘I was to see him at one o’clock in the afternoon,’ he said. ‘See, I wrote it down.’
I had before me an ostracon with the day and ‘Lord of T.T. T.M.H.L 1’ scrawled on it.
‘Lord of the Two Thrones Tutankhamen may he live, at one o’clock,’ I translated.
‘Yes,’ Nakhtamin said. ‘But he was dead before then.’
‘You keep no permanent household here?’ I asked.
‘No, lord, but the maidens were with me just before, I asked them to audition at noon for the feast, and then just when we were getting friendly, the wailing started.’
‘Your acquaintance seems doomed,’ I agreed, ‘for today in walked a judge just when you were getting friendly again. Is this the case, young ladies? Tell me the truth. I am a Royal Judge, and you will have your engagement whether or not you please this man. Did you come here just before that time on that dreadful day?’
They consulted each other and then one was elbowed into a ‘kiss earth’ from which I raised her. Her hands were very strong.
‘Lord, it is as he says. We came to show him our tumbling, and we were just showing him our other skills—we were trained by a priestess of Hathor, Lord Judge—when we heard the screaming that the poor Pharaoh had died.’
‘Thank you. Where was he going to meet you, Nakhtamin?’ I asked as I was leaving, wondering if the Fan Bearer would recover his potency and at