Free The Hippopotamus Marsh by Pauline Gedge Page A

about the watersteps, shading her eyes and waiting for a messenger’s skiff to appear round the northern bend, a bored Behek lying at her feet. Sometimes Teti’s skiffs did bring scrolls from Ramose. Sometimes the young man gave his messages for Tani into the hands of a Royal Herald who delivered them at Weset on his way to Kush. Seqenenra had ceased to fear the sight of such a vessel tacking towards his watersteps, indeed, he welcomed them, for they made Tani bubble with joy.
    Payni and Epophi came and went in a remorseless heat that shrivelled the leaves on the trees and sapped energy from beast and human alike. Mesore began, and all at once the lazy, halcyon days were over. The gardeners loaded vegetables into baskets. Servants began to strip the vines, and in the white dazzle of the big courtyard to the south of the house the men trod the grapes, singing and dancing.
    Si-Amun, Kamose and Seqenenra were seldom home. Day after day they strode the fields, watching the overseers direct the reapers. The sickles rose and fell. Of particular concern was the flax harvest, for much of the crop would go north to form fine linen for the King’s household, traded for the family’s needs, and the rest Isis and the other servants would weave for Aahotep and the girls. Barley was set asidefor the season’s new beer. The harvest was plentiful, and master and peasant alike worked cheerfully.
    Towards the end of Mesore when Si-Amun, Kamose, Seqenenra and Uni were closeted together tallying the yield and trying to apportion the taxes and tribute that must go to Het-Uart, Aahmes-nefertari knocked and came towards the littered desk. Her pregnancy was now in its eighth month but being her first, her slim body was not much distorted. She was suffering more than usual from the heat and no longer spent so much time roving the grounds. Today she was barefoot but wore an ankle-length white sheath caught under her breasts by two thick linen straps that covered her nipples. The menat-amulet given to her by her mother was hanging from a leather cord around her neck. Her arms were bare of ornament but yellow ribbons trailed from her hair, sticking to the sweat on her shoulders, and as she approached she pushed back her wet tresses. Behind her, Raa, her childhood nurse and favoured companion, came padding, bearing a large starched fan.
    The men looked up from their work. Aahmes-nefertari sank gratefully onto the stool Seqenenra pushed forward. “Thank you, Father,” she said. “I am sorry to disturb you, but a royal skiff has just pushed off again from the water-steps. The herald could not stay to speak with you. He said he had urgent business with the Prince of Kush. He gave me a scroll for you. Tani is very disappointed!” Seqenenra laughed.
    “Tani is becoming spoiled. She imagines now that every craft plying the Nile is doing so for her benefit. I suppose the scroll is our tax assessment from Het-Uart. It will be heavy with the harvest so bountiful, and Men tells me that thecattle in the Delta have calved as never before. Well I suppose I must look at it.” Aahmes-nefertari produced the scroll and Seqenenra took it.
    “The Overseer of Lands has also come, with reports on the harvest from our nomes,” the girl went on. “Grandmother is giving him wine by the pool. She asks that you join them. The Tchaus Nome is complaining of a lessened yield due to rust on the grain.” Kamose smiled faintly.
    “The Tchaus Nome always complains about something,” he said.
    “Better a complaint than the silence that hides one,” his father answered, breaking the seal. “Aahmes-nefertari, please tell your grandmother we will join her shortly.” The girl rose and left, Raa behind her.
    Seqenenra unrolled the scroll. Si-Amun and Kamose waited expectantly. Then Seqenenra exclaimed softly, “No. No! This is not to be believed.” The hand holding the message dropped to the table. Kamose stepped up and touched his father’s shoulder. It was