Free Seer of Egypt by Pauline Gedge

its environs,” he said. “A child does not forget such kindnesses. Have you returned to see your family in Khmun lately? Is your mother still making the soup you boasted to me about?”
    “What a memory! Yes, my mother is well and I am still smug regarding her skills.” Amunmose looked him up and down much as Anhur had done. “You’ve become a man,” he nodded, “and a great one at that, if the stories I hear are to be believed. I suspect that from now on it will be you, Master, who educates me.” He glanced around. “A lovely house, and I’m eager to begin my duties in it. Already I feel I am basking in your reflected glory!”
    “Don’t be ridiculous! I need an under steward, Amunmose. My steward, Merenra, is desperate for assistance. I have acquired a few domestic servants, but Merenra needs someone who can assume an authority they cannot. You read and write?”
    Amunmose’s brow had begun to lift at Huy’s words until it almost disappeared under his thatch of dusty, unruly black hair. “You’re not putting me in your kitchen?”
    “No. Khnit now has all the help she needs.”
    Amunmose flung out his arms and hopped from one foot to the other. “Wonderful! Unbelievable! I can read simple instructions and write numbers and lists, but that’s all.”
    “That’s enough.” He called and Tetiankh came hurrying down the stairs. “This is my body servant, Tetiankh,” Huy explained. “Go with him to the bathhouse. He will wash you and shave your head. Then he can take you to Merenra. Are you hungry? Tetiankh, make sure Merenra feeds him after he’s been cleaned up.”
    Amunmose sobered. Reaching down for his satchel, he slung it over one shoulder and stared at Huy. “Those six years have dealt strangely with you, Master,” he said with a new respect. “You may trust me to serve you honestly and with loyalty. I consider myself privileged to be here.”
    Huy watched him follow Tetiankh into the passage that ran right through the house and out to the rear. He was limping slightly, but there was still a bounce to his step. Huy knew he would not regret his decision to keep the promise he had made, although it had been spoken out of a boy’s panicked desire to keep a friendly face close by. He set off in search of Ishat.
    Early the following day, Thothmes arrived. Huy had set one of the servants to watch by the watersteps, and as soon as Thothmes’ barge hove into view, he and Ishat hurried there. Ishat was clearly nervous. She had dressed in gold-bordered, filmy scarlet linen. Her lips had been coloured with red antimony, and her eyelids, above heavy lines of dark grey kohl, had been dusted with powdered gold. The gold circlet hung with jaspers rested on her head, the one large red stone gracing her forehead, and her hair had been gathered into the net attached to the headband. Her sandals sported tiny red jaspers nestling between each toe. She moved in a cloud of perfume, the blend of myrrh, cassia, and henna flowers that was becoming her signature, and although her throat was bare, the gold bracelets on her arms clicked against each other. Her forefingers carried thick gold bands on which green turquoise scarabs sat. The fingers of power, Huy thought, half amused and half sympathetic to the pulse beating rapidly in her neck. She is learning not only to hide her insecurities but also to amplify the nimbus of influence surrounding every part of our being.
    They waited while the craft nosed the steps, Anhur (as Huy’s captain) gave a formal challenge that received an equally formal answer, and the ramp was run out. Thothmes did not wait. Running along it, trailed by his attendants, he flung himself on Huy and hugged him tightly, beaming with pleasure. “I would have come to visit weeks ago, but my father is not well and I was deluged with work,” he explained. “I miss you every day, old friend! And you!” He turned and took Ishat’s hand, bringing it to his mouth. “I relive the time we spent