Out of the Black Land - By Kerry Greenwood Page 0,62

a transverse cut, barely healed, which seamed one arm almost to the elbow.

‘It’s nothing, it doesn’t even hurt any more. A Kush warrior hacked at me and nearly missed, only not nearly enough. It was in Horemheb’s Battle of the Mountain. He saved my life. He saved all our lives. How have you been faring, brother? Did you receive my letter? I sent it to the Master of Scribes and he said he was able to get it to you without endangering our secret.’

‘He did, and I rejoiced to hear that you were alive and missing me, because I was alive and missing you. Oh, Kheperren, I missed you so much!’

‘Show me how much you missed me,’ he said, guiding my hand to his phallus. I kissed down his body, slowly, relishing the taste of his skin, engrossed in his perfumes. He gasped, his hands on my head. ‘I love you,’ he crooned while he could still speak, ‘Oh my love, my heart, my desire, my brother.’

Like Ptah Creator-god who swallowed his own semen to bring forth the world, I brought him slowly to a climax which shook us both to the bones.

We woke and it was dark. In sleeping, he had curved around me and hugged me to his breast, and I have never woken feeling so sated, so loved, so pleased. I tasted the divine herb unefer in my mouth, and kissed him to share it.

‘I suppose we should get up,’ I said, stretching lazily.

‘I’m hungry,’ he commented. ‘In fact, I’m starving. Will the Great Royal Scribe allow a portion of bread to a humble army scribe before he delivers his report?’

‘Only if the humble army scribe accepts a wash in the purest water, a sumptuous meal and swears that he will love me forever,’ I bargained.

‘I will love you forever,’ he said seriously, holding my right hand as one does when swearing an oath to another. ‘By all the gods both seen and unseen, I swear.’

‘So swear I, Ptah-hotep, Great Royal Scribe,’ I said. ‘Come and wash, for we smell like a couple of rutting goats.’

He sniffed and agreed.

Later, we sat down in the inner office and began on Meryt’s collection of comestibles which she had gathered for us. There was a leg of roasted duck each, some dried grapes and dried melon, several loaves of different breads and we washed it down with good wine.

‘I observe that you have not taken to soldier’s fare,’ I said. ‘Or would coarse barley bread and beer suit you better?’

‘No, coarse barley bread and beer would not suit me better. Hand over some more grapes. Oh, the sweetness. I used to lie awake at night and cry; firstly for you and secondly for dried grapes. Let me tell you, brother, there is nothing sweet about being a soldier and no one would ever do it if it were not for Egypt’s need and the calibre of such captains as Horemheb.

‘It’s hot and unprotected and dangerous and unbelievably uncomfortable. The common soldiers grumble all the time about the food and the officers grizzle for their wives. No one is happy. But Horemheb can command men and they know that they are his care and that he loves them.’

‘How much did you love Horemheb?’ I demanded, instantly and to my astonishment, jealous.

‘How much do you love your Nubian?’ he responded sharply. ‘We take our loves where we find them, Ptah-hotep.’

‘I am ashamed,’ I told him. ‘But I am also answered.’

‘So am I,’ he said.

There was silence for a moment, and then we leaned forward and kissed, a deep kiss flavoured with raisins. We concluded an agreement in silence; that we would lie with whoever we liked, for ease or pleasure, but I would be his only love, and he would be mine.

‘We came down into a defile and we were attacked,’ he went on, as though the exchange had not happened. But his free hand was in mine as though he never meant to let go. ‘Kush attacked. There were more of them than us, and they had the advantage of surprise. We were guarding the only road through Desaret into Egypt for a hundred shoeni either way, and we could not let them pass.’

‘What happened?’ I caught my breath.

‘Kush did not know that Horemheb always expects surprises. He had half of his force dismounted from their chariots—their complaints must have reached the gods, you would think that charioteers have no feet—and clambering along the ridge of the mountains on either side.