Free Seer of Egypt by Pauline Gedge Page B
Authors: Pauline Gedge
in another month, when the taxes are due, there will be screams from everyone as the taxgatherers go about their business for the King. But I like our Mayor. He and I have begun more beautifying in Iunu.”
“I remember the city as being already very beautiful,” Huy put in. “Do you go to the temple often, Thothmes? Do you ever revisit our school?”
“Nasha and I go on feast days,” he replied, “and of course I pray to my dear Osiris Thothmes Glorified. I don’t bother with the school. Ramose continues to run it with his usual efficiency.”
“And is Nasha well?” Huy asked carefully.
Ishat shot him a glance. I know what you will ask next, her eyes told him scornfully. Huy looked away, lifting his cup, but there were flies struggling in the dregs of his beer. He poured them onto the grass.
“Nasha never changes,” Thothmes said. He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. “Father despairs of her. She’s rejected every suitor and now few call on her. Soon no one will want to marry her. She’ll be too old.” He cocked one sleepy eye at Huy. “I think she’s been in love with you ever since you began coming to our house on school holidays. Her tongue is sharper, but she retains her great sense of humour.”
There was a moment of silence. Huy listened to the drone of bees searching in vain for flowers that had long since died. Across from him, his path to the watersteps lay white and dazzling in the sunlight, and the stiff palms lining it cast no shade. At length he could bear it no more. Ishat was idly plying her fly whisk, turning her sandalled foot back and forth to see the jaspers glow as they caught the light now creeping over her ankles.
“And what of Anuket?” Huy blurted, his throat tight. “I know that she lives with her husband, the son of the Governor of the Uas sepat, at Weset. Do you ever see her?”
“Sometimes.” Thothmes turned onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow so that he could see Huy’s face. “Everyone likes to get drunk at feasts, but I suspect that Anuket takes too much wine every day. She has put on weight and her eyes have become permanently swollen and dark-circled. She carps at her husband in public and no longer has any interest in weaving wreaths and garlands.” He sighed. “Father has reprimanded her, but it does no good. You’re not still in love with her, are you, Huy? She seems unhappy. I wonder how different she would be if Father had allowed you to marry her.”
“She would still be unhappy, for Huy cannot consummate any love, as you may remember, Thothmes,” Ishat snapped. She drew her feet in under her, out of the reach of the sun, with one sharp movement.
“I had forgotten.” Thothmes sat up and grasped Huy’s hand. “Your life has become so … so normal, Huy. Everything that happened to you years ago seems like a very dim memory. So the god’s hand still rests heavily on you? Forgive me.”
It is you who should be begging my forgiveness for your outburst, Huy thought, looking across at Ishat. You have humiliated me and you know it. She would not look at him. She was running her hand back and forth over the dry spikes of the grass.
Huy gave Thothmes’ hand a shake and withdrew his own. “Of course,” he said. “I never had any secrets from you, my dear friend, and I can forgive you anything. Truthfully, I think of Anuket less often, but when I do the pain is still there. I’m sorry she’s in distress.”
“It may not be the wine, though,” Thothmes added. “Her husband owns many acres of poppy fields. Perhaps she indulges in the drug too much.”
“Poppy fields? Around Weset?” Huy leaned forward.
Thothmes nodded. “Importing it has become too expensive, so the Governor petitioned the King for a few arouras to see if we could grow our own. The experiment was successful. Now Weset is surrounded by a sea of red and white poppies, and Anuket’s husband and his father the Governor are doing very well out of the
“I remember the city as being already very beautiful,” Huy put in. “Do you go to the temple often, Thothmes? Do you ever revisit our school?”
“Nasha and I go on feast days,” he replied, “and of course I pray to my dear Osiris Thothmes Glorified. I don’t bother with the school. Ramose continues to run it with his usual efficiency.”
“And is Nasha well?” Huy asked carefully.
Ishat shot him a glance. I know what you will ask next, her eyes told him scornfully. Huy looked away, lifting his cup, but there were flies struggling in the dregs of his beer. He poured them onto the grass.
“Nasha never changes,” Thothmes said. He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. “Father despairs of her. She’s rejected every suitor and now few call on her. Soon no one will want to marry her. She’ll be too old.” He cocked one sleepy eye at Huy. “I think she’s been in love with you ever since you began coming to our house on school holidays. Her tongue is sharper, but she retains her great sense of humour.”
There was a moment of silence. Huy listened to the drone of bees searching in vain for flowers that had long since died. Across from him, his path to the watersteps lay white and dazzling in the sunlight, and the stiff palms lining it cast no shade. At length he could bear it no more. Ishat was idly plying her fly whisk, turning her sandalled foot back and forth to see the jaspers glow as they caught the light now creeping over her ankles.
“And what of Anuket?” Huy blurted, his throat tight. “I know that she lives with her husband, the son of the Governor of the Uas sepat, at Weset. Do you ever see her?”
“Sometimes.” Thothmes turned onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow so that he could see Huy’s face. “Everyone likes to get drunk at feasts, but I suspect that Anuket takes too much wine every day. She has put on weight and her eyes have become permanently swollen and dark-circled. She carps at her husband in public and no longer has any interest in weaving wreaths and garlands.” He sighed. “Father has reprimanded her, but it does no good. You’re not still in love with her, are you, Huy? She seems unhappy. I wonder how different she would be if Father had allowed you to marry her.”
“She would still be unhappy, for Huy cannot consummate any love, as you may remember, Thothmes,” Ishat snapped. She drew her feet in under her, out of the reach of the sun, with one sharp movement.
“I had forgotten.” Thothmes sat up and grasped Huy’s hand. “Your life has become so … so normal, Huy. Everything that happened to you years ago seems like a very dim memory. So the god’s hand still rests heavily on you? Forgive me.”
It is you who should be begging my forgiveness for your outburst, Huy thought, looking across at Ishat. You have humiliated me and you know it. She would not look at him. She was running her hand back and forth over the dry spikes of the grass.
Huy gave Thothmes’ hand a shake and withdrew his own. “Of course,” he said. “I never had any secrets from you, my dear friend, and I can forgive you anything. Truthfully, I think of Anuket less often, but when I do the pain is still there. I’m sorry she’s in distress.”
“It may not be the wine, though,” Thothmes added. “Her husband owns many acres of poppy fields. Perhaps she indulges in the drug too much.”
“Poppy fields? Around Weset?” Huy leaned forward.
Thothmes nodded. “Importing it has become too expensive, so the Governor petitioned the King for a few arouras to see if we could grow our own. The experiment was successful. Now Weset is surrounded by a sea of red and white poppies, and Anuket’s husband and his father the Governor are doing very well out of the