Free The Twice Born by Pauline Gedge Page B

returned to his cell without much difficulty. The layout of the somewhat labyrinthine warren of compounds, passages, and rooms was becoming clearer, and with that comprehension Huy gained a measure of emotional control. He knew where he would be going in the morning and, more importantly, where he would be eating. He had learned to trust Harnakht, his offhand but well-meaning guide. He had met his new roommate and was not particularly impressed. As he trotted towards the pool in the centre of his own compound, he suddenly realized that for the last few hours he had not thought about his parents at all.
    In the coolness of the cell he finally unpacked his few belongings, laying the Nefer amulet around his neck and placing the box containing the precious scarab on the table beside his cot. Then he hesitated. Much as he knew he would need to look at it regularly, he did not know if the other boys could be expected to leave it alone. Certainly Harnakht would be curious to see what was inside. He might tell everyone. It might even be stolen. Reluctantly, after one loving touch of its smooth, golden carapace, he closed the lid and put it in the tiring chest with the clothes his mother and Hapzefa had packed for him. But what of Pabast? Would he, Huy, be wearing his own linen from now on? Linen the servant would need to extract from the chest?
    Sighing, the boy pushed the empty leather bags under his cot, took off his sandals, and, sitting on the floor, shook out the cones and spools of the sennet game his father had so painstakingly made for him. He began to play against himself. In spite of the precarious self-assurance he was beginning to feel, he was not yet ready to expose himself to the other pupils thronging the grass outside.
    Harnakht came back, tired and filthy, at sunset. Huy asked him if he had been beaten—that terrible word—for being late. Harnakht scratched one large, soiled ear and grinned at Huy. “No. My instructor saw you and understood my responsibility. I hit mostly bull’s eyes today. If you’ve unpacked, then get out a fresh kilt and loincloth and put your sandals back on. We must wash again before we eat. That’s a really fine sennet board you’ve got. Can I play with you later?”
    Huy was overjoyed at the suggestion of equality but appalled at the prospect of yet more scrubbing. Nevertheless, he did as he was told and together they made their way to the bathhouse, which was crowded. The older boys took their turns at the water and natron first, as was their privilege. “Just leave your dirty kilt here,” Harnakht told Huy as he exposed his own gangly body and grabbed up a ladle. “Pabast will collect them all and take them to the washermen. You won’t always get your own back, but it doesn’t matter—one kilt is much the same as another. Keep your ribbon dry, though. Take it off before you get wet.”
    The evening meal was served from a table at the edge of the lawn. The boys lined up to have bowls and plates filled with the steamed fish, now cold, that Huy had smelled earlier, smothered in a garlic and cumin sauce and piled with onions and broad beans. There was thick lentil soup, bread, and sweet honey cakes. Reassured, Huy carried his food to the edge of the pond and ate. He watched the water spiders skate effortlessly across its surface, and the single fat frog that had somehow found its way into the compound snap lazily at the mosquitoes gathering in a cloud above the placid water.
    Harnakht and Kay sat together some distance away. Huy looked about for Thothmes and finally spotted him sitting cross-legged in the doorway of his cell. He had finished eating and was surveying the company, his arms folded. Catching Huy’s glance, he raised one hand and nodded a greeting. He did not smile.
    By the time the meal was over and the boys had returned their plates and bowls to the serving table, the enclosed area was flooded with the red light of sunset. A priest appeared, his white robe stained