Out of the Black Land
that I had been given one of the highest offices in the kingdom. She was, of course, wrong?’
‘Nubians, they talk too much. Yes boy, I mean, my Lord, you are ranked higher than almost any, and I hope you live your first decan, for I do not know what will save you unless the Gods do.’
This was alarming and I forgot my grief for a little. Still holding him, I demanded ‘Explain!’
‘I don’t know how to explain it,’ he wailed, the paint on his cheeks cracking a little with the stress of unaccustomed facial expression. ‘Did he know you before, Lord Ptah-hotep, know you…when he was a boy?’
‘No, of course not. Yesterday I was swimming in the sacred lake and he just came and took me. I have never seen him before,’ I replied.
‘Whimsical, whimsical, that’s the Divine Akhnamen. I wish that his brother had lived. But at least he has married; a wife will settle him down.’ He spoke to himself, then remembered me.
‘Now, don’t be afraid, boy, my Lord. He won’t hurt you, he’s the gentlest creature alive, may Amen-Re shine sense upon him! He just doesn’t think, you see, he’s impulsive. But he keeps his friends, and he needs them. Be a friend to him and no courtier’s malice can touch you.’
‘Sell me the slave Meryt,’ I requested. He patted me on the shoulder.
‘Certainly,’ he replied. ‘Ten ingots of copper and she is yours.’
‘Should all this be true, Lord, I will owe you the copper, and you will send her to my quarters as soon as you can. I feel,’ I added, as we heard trumpets and the whole honour guard sprang to attention, ‘that I will need someone to watch over me.’
I went to the feasting hall as the procession left the Audience Chamber and walked along the corridor painted with a fresco of tribute bearers. I was puzzled and apprehensive but my heart was still too sore to be either really joyful or really afraid.
I heard the swish of the ladies’ draperies and their voices, as they were freed from ceremony to speak, pass my window and I slipped out into the passage and came along behind them.
I had never seen such splendour as that feasting hall on my first night in the palace of the Kings. The Kings and their Queens were seated on a raised platform at one end of the hall, with painted frescoes of antelopes behind them and a whole lion hunt on the opposite wall.
The tables were draped with white cloth and laden with all manner of food; bread and roasted fish and dried fish, roasted oxen, goat, roast quail and duck and goose; plums and melons and figs and grapes in black bunches, bursting with juice. There were three sorts of cheese and eleven different cakes, dates, pomegranates, and salads of lettuce and leeks.
I had never seen so much food in my life. In my father’s house we were never hungry, we had bread, fish and beans every day and roasted meat occasionally. But this abundance was astonishing and I had to restrain my hand from creeping out and stealing a cinnamon cake. My nostrils twitched with the heavenly scent. Cinnamon and, I thought, honey.
The chamberlain, who may have been feeling guilty about his casual reception of me, took me by the hand and led me through the feast to the Kings.
Everywhere people were tearing apart roasted quail and crunching bones and demanding more wine. Servants flew about the huge room with pots and jugs. Musicians strummed and plucked valiantly, but could hardly be heard above the voices and the demands for more drink, at once!
I was deafened and shaken—it was like being inside a gigantic mouth—by the time I was kneeling at the feet of the young man with the strange misty gaze.
‘Ptah-hotep,’ he said vaguely. For a delirious moment I thought he might have forgotten me and I would be sent back to my own trade and my Kheperren. Then his eyes sharpened, as if I had come into focus.
‘See, my Lady,’ he addressed a woman of surpassing beauty, who put down her wine-cup politely and smiled at me. ‘This is Ptah-hotep, my scribe.’
The
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