Seer of Egypt Read Online Free PDF

that the desire for it existed apart from any rationalization he might conjure, and stopped trying to deceive himself.
    “Bring me an infusion, Tetiankh, but make it a weak one,” he said heavily. “I shall undress myself. Is there no hot water for my wash?”
    “I’m sorry, Master,” Tetiankh answered. “Khnit asked Iput and me to help her in the kitchen. Seshemnefer prepared the vegetables, but then he left. He was tired from digging over so much ground today. At least you will have a flourishing garden when he is done.”
    Huy sighed. Ishat was right, more staff were needed. “I’ll go down to the bathhouse,” he decided. “I must clean the kohl from my eyes. I don’t need your help, Tetiankh. I took care of my own bodily needs for years. Go and mix the poppy.”
    Tetiankh looked distressed. “It is not right that you should perform such tasks for yourself,” he retorted as he left.
    Huy stripped off his kilt, laid his new belt carefully over the back of one of the cedar and ivory inlaid chairs, and, pulling a sleeping robe over his head, padded barefoot along the dusky passage and down the narrow stairs at the rear of the house to the little bathhouse below. As always, the damp interior smelled of Ishat’s perfume blend—myrrh, cassia, and henna flowers. Huy inhaled it with pleasure. The water for their ablutions was often left just outside, to be heated by the sun. Huy found a jug in which some warmth remained and quickly washed his face, scrubbing it with a little natron and wiping it over with ben oil. He would have liked to clean his long hair of sweat and dust, but he needed Ishat for that. No, not Ishat, he corrected himself as he dragged a comb through the thick tresses. I must be tired. My mind is playing me tricks. Ishat used to do it, but it’s Tetiankh’s job now. I remember the evenings in our miserable little hovel, when she would kneel before me with a basin full of the water in which we would both have to wash, and she would lift my filthy, swollen feet into it. While they soaked, she would wash my face, my neck and chest, my legs, and then with the basin on the table she washed my hair. Only then would she banish me, while she took off her one serviceable sheath and cleansed herself. She is the one who deserves this sudden change in our fortunes, not I. I will begrudge her nothing.
    Tetiankh was waiting when Huy returned to his bedchamber, the small clay pot of white liquid in his hand. Thanking him, Huy took it and drank. As always, the taste was so bitter that his throat tried to constrict against it. Tetiankh was ready with water. Huy sluiced his mouth clear and swallowed so as not to waste a drop of the precious drug. The sheet on the couch had already been turned down, the doors of the shrine beside the bed opened to reveal the little statue of Khenti-kheti, totem of the town and surrounding district. A mat lay before it.
    Once more, Tetiankh bowed. “Do you need anything else, Master?”
    Huy shook his head. “No. Bring my first meal at dawn tomorrow, Tetiankh. Tell Khnit I will be hiring help for her. Good night.”
    After the servant had gone, Huy prostrated himself on the mat before the crocodile god and began his prayers. He had vowed long ago that he would not address Atum because of the grudge he held against the Omnipotent One, but it often seemed to him that the divine ears open to his words were not those of Hutherib’s protector. Khenti-kheti had been rendered deaf by Atum’s superior power, and in spite of Huy’s hubris, it was Atum who heard him. Always Atum. Everything reverted to the god who had brought him back from the dead and laid such burdens upon him.
    Huy was seldom able to finish his petitions, and tonight was no exception. The poppy coursing through his veins was already making him sleepy and euphoric. Rising clumsily, he rolled onto his couch and into unconsciousness almost simultaneously.
    He woke in the night with a start, already listening for the