Out of the Black Land - By Kerry Greenwood Page 0,39

fisherman’s wire traps. But his eyes were deep and full of will and strength. Neither of us looked away for an uncounted time. I do not know what he saw in my eyes. But he finally broke the contact with a grunt, waved at the women to begin laying out a feast, and did not speak until I had a cup of wine and they had helped him descend to sit on a low chair at a well-filled table.

Even in the driest month the temple of Amen-Re, it appeared, had melons, golden fruit from the jungles of Upper Egypt. A naked woman leaned over me and put a piece of fruit into my mouth. I smiled at her, but she did not respond.

‘So you are the Pharaoh’s lover,’ the old man broke the silence.

I said, ‘Lord, I am the Pharaoh’s choice,’ and ate some more melon.

‘How old are you?’ he asked, and I told him my age. He thought for awhile, seeming not to notice the curved belly or breast before his face, or the melon juice mopped from his chin by his attentive slave. ‘Your father?’ he asked.

I was sure that he knew all about me, so I answered ‘He is a scribe in the city of Apis in the Nome of the Black Bull, Lord.’

‘I know.’ He tasted a roasted pheasant, then indicated to the slave that she should serve me some of the scented flesh.

We ate in silence for awhile. I sensed his puzzlement. I was not reacting as a boy-lover should react, or an over-awed child, or a scheming creature who has kissed Pharaoh’s feet for his favour. I like silence, and I let it continue. I had not been well fed lately and this meal was a feast of all that was tasty and light, perfect for a hot evening.

‘The pheasant is delicious,’ I commented, a social statement required of a guest. ‘You are a generous host, Userkhepesh, Servant of Re.’

‘I am delighted that my poor fare should please you,’ he said absently, again the correct reply.

I ate some good black grapes, spitting the seeds politely into my hand, and he watched me as if I was a newly-created beast and he was Khnum the Potter, wondering what to name me.

‘Are these from the Tashery vineyard, Lord?’ another social comment. ‘My second in command says that they are the best grapes in the Black Land.’

‘Mentu? He would know about wine, though nothing else. You know that. You appointed him.’ The High Priest leaned forward. ‘So far you have not put a foot wrong, Lord Ptah-hotep. You were not awed or improperly curious. You know the value of silence. You do not fear me.’

‘Lord, I fear you, and your office, your god, and your power,’ I responded honestly. ‘But since this meeting is a test, set by my wise elder to find out my worth, I would dishonour my office if I did not at least pass it.’

He laughed, a dry laugh which had little merriment in it.

‘What did happen at the lake?’ he asked. ‘How did Pharaoh choose you?’

‘I was bathing, and I was called out of the water. Pharaoh laid his flail on me; possibly my master recommended me. That was the first time I ever saw the Lord of the Double Crown.’ I took some more of a curious, luscious mixture of beans in oil.

‘Whimsical. That is the Lord of the Two Lands, Akhnamen. I could wish that his brother Thutmose had not died. However, Amen disposes of men as he wishes.’

There was another silence, then I remembered that I had a message for him.

‘Lord, I am bidden with a message from the Great Royal Nurse Tey. The Queen Tiye was delivered this afternoon of a son called Smenkhare.’

‘Good.’ I had no doubt that he knew this already. ‘No, don’t take any of the fish, Lord. It would not agree with you.’ His old fingers were laid on my wrist. Despite the heat, his skin was cold. A slave woman took the dish away.

‘As a priest, you, of course, my Lord, do not eat fish,’ I said slowly, thinking it out. ‘Fish ate the phallus of Osiris, and may not be eaten by priests. But I, as Great Royal Scribe, have no such taboo. And the fish would not have agreed with me, High Priest?’

‘No,’ he said, showing no sign of any other emotion. ‘It is over-rich for a young man such as yourself, a young man of sense and courage, who is