Out of the Black Land - By Kerry Greenwood Page 0,33
market-scribe; an honourable occupation, but possibly even more tedious than the temple of Khnum. And he was a commoner’s son, as I was myself, and it pleased me to think of him instructing the Princesses.
‘Will he do?’ asked the Lady, arching an eyebrow.
‘He will, with your royal approval,’ I replied.
‘Then you may forgive your scribe for forgetting your honorifics, as he is very young and he is sorry,’ she said; and Khety grinned with relief. Had I wished, I could have had him beaten with rods for such insolence.
‘Write an order for the Master of Scribes,’ I directed. ‘Send him Ptah-hotep’s compliments and beg him to donate another student to the palace. Tell Khons to report to me and I will conduct him to the Royal Ladies Mutnodjme and Merope.’
‘Very good,’ the Princess still did not move and I wondered what else she wanted. She came to some sort of decision and gestured her attendants away.
‘Young men, show my young women the decorative features of your office,’ she ordered, and Khety and Hanufer rose obediently to exhibit my painted walls and my precious statue of Thoth made of the hardest grey granite.
The Princess waited until they had gone out of easy earshot and said quietly, ‘My brother took you from one you loved, Ptah-hotep, to make you Great Royal Scribe.’
Was this a trap? Did she want to find a lever, and therefore needed to confirm my love for Kheperren? He was safely away with the army. The princess did not try to hurry me. She listened to Hanufer explaining at length the symbolism of Thoth being both the Ibis and the Ape, and waited.
‘Yes, there was one I loved.’
‘You sent him away?’
‘Lady,’ I agreed.
‘That was wise, for you are surrounded by enemies. My brother’s action has plunged you into a pit of snakes. But I know how it is to be threatened by the nature of one’s love, Ptah-hotep, more than my brother or my father ever knew. That is why my father married me, to preserve my life and the way I live it. But you will have to marry.’
‘Lady, in time.’ I was not sure of this Divine Princess, or her purposes.
She sighed in exasperation. ‘You have no reason to trust me, Ptah-hotep, but you may. So I will say this, if you are assailed, if your only love is in danger, send or come to me. I have a palace of my own where no enemy enters—or if they do, they do not remain. By gift of my wise father, may he live forever, I have position and power and I will protect you. In one respect, Great Royal Scribe, we are as sister and brother.’
I knew what she meant. She was right. She was also putting herself in peril to so speak to me, and was being astoundingly generous.
I slipped from my kneeling stance into a full ‘kiss-earth’ and laid my forehead on her workaday sandal. ‘I am the Divine Lady’s slave,’ I said with a heart full of gratitude ‘And lie at the Divine Lady’s feet.’
Chapter Seven
Mutnodjme
The scribe came that evening, before Tey had finished her remarks on how appalling our presence in the mammissi had been. Indeed, I feared that she would never get to the end of them, and I was to be scolded down to my grave.
‘The only reasons that I am not at this moment beating you until you scream,’ she added ‘is that you came with your stories at the right moment, to distract the Queen. She had been labouring for hours before she called for me, and she was at the end of her strength. So, it has ended well. And what did you think of the great female mystery, daughter?’ she demanded, more mildly.
‘Strange and terrible,’ I said. ‘Were all of us thus born?’
‘All except Amenhotep our Lord may he live,’ said a voice from the door.
‘Even he, may he live forever, and divine conception aside, was born of a woman,’ snapped Tey. ‘Who are you?’
‘I am Ptah-hotep, the Great Royal Scribe,’ said the young man mildly. ‘I was asked by the Princess Sitamen to bring a scribe for your daughters, Lady. Here he is. His name is Khons, and he asks more questions than anyone could answer.’
‘He should be heart-friend to these two, then,’ snarled Tey. ‘This is Great Royal Wife Merope, a barbarian princess, and this is my daughter the Lady Mutnodjme, sister to the Divine Spouse Nefertiti. Have you eaten, young man?’