were as sharp as pins.
‘No, I do not know if I desire women, and I would not like to make anyone miserable. Then the word would go out to all the gossips, Master of Scribes. A mysterious young man who may or may not love women is one thing; an impotent husband is a laughing stock.’
‘You have a point,’ he said. ‘And I would not presume to instruct you in your private life, my lord. But I do think,’ he added, getting to his feet and ordering his cloth, ‘that you should try and find out. Secretly, of course. With a trusted lover.’
I nodded, and the Nubian saw him out.
Meryt came in to announce that Bakhenmut was pleased with his accommodation and had already taken some of the tax-returns off the pile to be read.
I surveyed her. She was elegant and well-made, this woman whom I owned; for she had resisted being freed, saying that a freed slave had no place in my service, and that she would keep the paper for some later date, when fate might make it useful.
Her hair today was loose and floating, confined only by a length of gold ribbon. Her body was full, her breasts round, her limbs well-shaped. Did I desire her? Could I make love with her?
‘Meryt, sit down. I have something to say and I want you to listen.’
She sat down promptly at my feet and I slid down to join her, so that I could see her face.
‘Lord?’ she asked politely.
‘Meryt, I value your service and I could wish for no better housekeeper and companion.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, puzzled.
‘The Master of Scribes has told me that I must marry, but…’
‘But your heart belongs to another,’ she finished the sentence.
‘Yes. But there is another problem. I do not know women, and I do not know…’
‘I will lie with you tonight,’ she said, reading my heart as she often did. I seldom had to spell things out to Meryt. ‘Then you shall know. Is that all, Master?’ Her voice sounded careless, as if it was a minor matter in a busy household.
‘Yes,’ I answered.
She relented and stroked my cheek, a caress which felt as intimate as a kiss. ‘It will be all right, Master,’ she said, and was gone.
***
She came to me after the household was bedded down for the night. Hanufer and Khety in their room, my new scribe with his family, Anubis on guard, the three Nubians in an untidy heap on their mats before the door.
There was a breathing silence, and Meryt came in naked on the wind of it.
‘Look at me,’ she whispered, and I saw by lamplight the rich curves of her shoulder and hip, the rounded belly, the full breasts. She came closer and I smelt a strong female scent, oil of Hathor from the temple. It mingled with the scent of her skin and made me giddy.
She knelt beside me and guided my hands to her nipples, to the wet cleft between her thighs. I had never touched a woman, and slid one finger inside, feeling her slippery flesh with curiosity but, as yet, no desire.
Then she bent her head and kissed my mouth, and she tasted of honey. Her lips parted and I felt her tickle my inner lip with her tongue. Still, though I felt interested and a little breathless, I was unaroused.
‘Isis lay with Osiris after he was murdered,’ she whispered, and her hands caressed my body, sliding down over my chest to my belly and then to my phallus, which at last began to rise.
‘I will show you how she conceived Horus the Revenger,’ Meryt said softly. ‘I will show you how she received his seed inside her.’
I moved under her hand, and she pushed me down firmly. For a startled moment, I felt her mouth encompass my phallus, a sudden indescribable wetness, and then she was astride me, her knees on either side of my hips, and my phallus was inside her, in the soft liquid heat of her vessel, and it felt wonderful. I lay still, transfixed, and she rode me like a warrior rides a horse, rising and falling, and the stimulation passed towards unbearable until it flowered in a gush, a stream of semen, a sensation so strong that it hurt deep in my loins, and she exclaimed with pleasure.
She would not let me withdraw, but rolled so that we lay side by side, and strong muscles held my softening phallus inside the Nubian woman until it