Out of the Black Land - By Kerry Greenwood Page 0,35
it.
‘Amen-Re in the shape of her husband?’ I puzzled it out. ‘He came to her in her husband’s form?’
‘She was a virtuous woman who took no lovers,’ explained Khons. ‘Therefore he had to come in her husband’s shape, or she would have rejected him, even the god, even the Sun himself.’
‘But…’ I began. The Scribe Ptah-hotep lifted a hand.
‘I must leave you, I regret. Teach them well, Khons, I leave it in your hands. You will lodge here, and the Great Royal Wife Tiye is responsible for your expenses. Farewell, ladies.’ He stood up. The Nubian woman opened the door for him.
‘Come again,’ urged Tey, making one of her infrequent bows. The young man returned the bow and his mirrors glittered.
‘Lady,’ he acknowledged, and left.
‘Tell us another,’ urged Merope.
Tey flapped a hand at me. ‘In a moment. Teacher Khons, you may lodge here, and the young ladies will show you where you can lay your mat. It is very kind of the Queen to send you, and I appreciate it. If you can answer some of the ladies’ questions, you will be performing a valuable service.
‘Tell me,’ she said, escorting him to the small chamber next to ours and instructing a woman to lay out his mat and refold his bundle of creased garments, ‘What do you know of the scribe Ptah-hotep? He has impressed me very favourably.’
‘Lady, he took me out of the school of scribes and rescued me from a marshy fate. He was the best scribe at the school, which is why the Master offered him to Pharaoh Akhnamen may he live! Otherwise, I did not know him well,’ said Khons, watching a slave lay out his frayed and damaged wardrobe with evident embarrassment.
‘We will ask the Queen for some new cloths,’ said Tey, slightly amused. ‘Where do you come from, Teacher?’
‘From the North, Lady, the Nome of Set. My father trades in pots in the market,’ he added, fiercely rather than humbly.
‘Mine trained racehorses,’ returned Tey. ‘It is difficult, is it not? To live in a palace that knows no lack, with people who have never walked on hard earth or lived on fish and beans? But we manage, Teacher.
‘Now, even though it is still so hot—will the Southern Snake never stop blowing?—I must be away to visit my Lady the Queen, and you can tell stories to these voracious maidens. Ask the slaves for whatever you want,’ said Tey, and went.
I heard the outer door slap closed. Then I drew a deep breath, echoed by my new sister, and we both sat down on Teacher Khons’ sleeping mat.
‘Tell us another,’ we said, almost in unison.
‘First you will tell me,’ he said in a guarded fashion, ‘Is the lady your mother always like that?’
‘How?’ I asked.
‘So short, so brisk, so… decided.’
‘Yes,’ we both agreed.
‘Ah. Then we had better make some progress in learning or I’ll be off to Khnum at Hermopolis faster than a vulture flies. Tell me what you already know, Lady Mutnodjme.’
‘I can read and write cursive and understand most of the hieroglyphs. I can tell stories. Do you know a lot of stories?’
‘Hundreds.’ He turned to Merope. ‘And you, Lady?’
‘I never learned to write,’ said Merope. ‘But I can tell stories, too.’
‘And you can speak Kritian,’ he added. ‘An accomplishment that many of us would envy. Very well. While you are learning cursive, my Lady will learn hieroglyphics. And we will tell lots of stories. Will that please my ladies?’
‘Yes. Who beat you?’
‘My Master at the school of scribes.’
‘Why?’ I traced the scars where thin canes or whips had cut his smooth flesh.
‘For asking too many questions. For arguing.’ He smelt pleasantly of frankincense, now that I was close to him. Merope also edged nearer, and Teacher Khons began to look nervous.
‘Sit further away,’ he ordered. ‘It is too hot to be close in this wind.’
‘Where does the wind come from?’ I asked, as I moved to another mat.
‘It is the breath of Apep, the great Southern Snake, foe of Re the Sun since the beginning of time. At Ephipi, and into Mesoré, the power of Re is diverted to the other side of the world, and Apep roars, desiring to take the Black Land again into his maw and slake his thirst by drinking the Nile dry.’
‘Could he do that?’
‘Once he did just that,’ said Khons. He slid down until he was leaning on one elbow, chin in hand, examining us with his black eyes.