Out of the Black Land - By Kerry Greenwood Page 0,50
the Lord of the Two Thrones to ask. Meryt would meanwhile take charge of Khons, the barbarian princess and the Lady Mutnodjme and answer their questions, preferably out of earshot.
Then they came, the King and Queen may they live, and their attendants. When the Great Royal Wife Nefertiti came in, accompanied by the inquisitive Lady Mutnodjme and the Kritian princess, I knew instantly that the expression on her face matched my own. The Queen had lain in love as I had myself. Her body, as mine, was feeling loose, comforted, warm. She glanced at me briefly, and whatever she saw in my countenance made her shy, because she lowered fringed eyelids and looked away.
This caused me a moment of intense puzzlement. Had some God endowed the Lord Akhnamen with potency? It was well known that he was unmanned by disease.
I had to store my astonishment for later consideration, as my royal guests were tasting the tidbits prepared for their delectation, and Imhotep was beginning to explain to the King Akhnamen all about the new city of the sun at Amarna.
‘In the centre of the city will be the palace and temple, as you have ordered, Great Lord,’ began Imhotep, his voice shaking with nerves. The strange profile inclined. The King was interested. I looked at the drawing, flanked by two solemn Nubian faces. The palace and the temple were one; strange, but not impossible. The buildings were laid out in a huge court, the palace on three sides and the temple on the other.
‘And here, Lord of the Two Lands, is the Window of Appearances that you ordered. It commands the whole square. From it all people will be able to see you and your Queen Nefertiti may she live. If this is what you require?’ asked Imhotep.
I could understand his uncertainty. This was a very odd request. Women in the Black Land were free and visible, of course. Only barbarians who are ashamed of their own brutality and have peculiar ideas about how the world works, hide their women away in stifling tents in the desert lest other men should see and covet them. Indeed in this same dynasty a queen had made herself into a king; the Divine Lady Hatshepsut, who had declared herself Pharaoh and reigned alone for thirty years.
And in every market the sellers were women, the traders and some of the makers, though weaving was still largely a male task and field workers tended to be men, because they were stronger (and according to my mother, closer to the mentality of the ox or horse). The washers of clothes were all men, as the lye they used in removing such stains as the wine soaked into Imhotep’s cloth, was very strong and was thought to affect the fertility of women.
But Great Royal Wives conferred the kingship on their husbands, and took no official role in running the country. What they did unofficially, of course, was not known. Certainly their favour was strongly solicited for mercy or justice.
Great Royal Wife Tiye had sent me a couple of oppressed farmers recently, and on their testimony I had ordered an investigation of the administration of a mismanaged village which might well have escaped notice otherwise. And if the headman of that particular village had done half of what was alleged, he would shortly be examining an executioner’s knife at uncomfortably close quarters.
I had missed some of Imhotep’s speech while lost in thought, though from the smothered yawns from the king’s attendants it had not been gripping. Imhotep was listing the labour he would need to survey the site, and the wording on the boundary stones. No one lived in the area, it was desolate Desaret, red waste, so there were no disputed farmer’s claims to adjudicate. I did wonder where the Royal Lord Akhnamen was going to get his water for the lakes of lotuses which Imhotep had designed. I was answered in the next sentence.
‘And I estimate that it will take three seasons to build the canal,’ said the architect, and sat down.
Tani, who had forgiven the insult to his brother, gave Imhotep a cup of the strong beer which he preferred, and he gulped it down and held out the cup for more.
‘Good,’ said the king. ‘Good. The breadth of your imagination pleases me, Imhotep. Consult with the land registry and with my scribe, here, and draw the labour you need. No slaves; this city will be built by freeborn men.’