‘An evil day, indeed,’ said Kait in a deep voice, coming forward from the entrance to the women’s quarters.
Her eyes were heavy with the tears she had shed, and her plain face had a strength and resolution which made it noticeable. Her voice, deep and hoarse, was shaken with anger.
‘It was an evil day when you brought Nofret here, Imhotep, to destroy the cleverest and most handsome of your sons! She has brought death to Satipy and death to my Sobek, and Yahmose has only narrowly escaped. Who will be next? Will she spare even children–she who struck my little Ankh? Something must be done, Imhotep!’
‘Something must be done,’ Imhotep echoed, looking imploringly at the priest.
The latter nodded his head with calm assumption.
‘There are ways and means, Imhotep. Once we are sure of our facts, we can go ahead. I have in mind your dead wife, Ashayet. She was a woman of influential family. She can invoke powerful interests in the Land of the Dead, who can intervene on your behalf and against whom the woman Nofret will have no power. We must take counsel together.’
Kait gave a short laugh.
‘Do not wait too long. Men are always the same–Yes, even priests! Everything must be done according to law and precedent. But I say, act quickly–or there will be more dead beneath this roof.’
She turned and went out.
‘An excellent woman,’ murmured Imhotep. ‘A devoted mother to her children, a dutiful wife–but her manners, sometimes, are hardly what they should be–to the head of the house. Naturally at such a time I forgive her. We are all distraught. We hardly know what we are doing.’
He clasped his hands to his head.
‘Some of us seldom do know what we are doing,’ remarked Esa.
Imhotep shot an annoyed glance at her. The physician prepared to take his leave and Imhotep went out with him on to the porch, receiving instructions for the care of the sick man.
Renisenb, left behind, looked inquiringly at her grandmother.
Esa was sitting very still. She was frowning and the expression on her face was so curious that Renisenb asked timidly:
‘What is it that you are thinking, grandmother?’
‘Thinking is the word, Renisenb. Such curious things are happening in this house that it is very necessary for someone to think.’
‘They are terrible,’ said Renisenb with a shiver. ‘They frighten me.’
‘They frighten me,’ said Esa. ‘But not perhaps for the same reason.’
With the old familiar gesture, she pushed the wig on her head askew.
‘But Yahmose will not die now,’ said Renisenb. ‘He will live.’
Esa nodded.
‘Yes, a Master Physician reached him in time. On another occasion, though, he may not be so lucky.’
‘You think–there will be other happenings like this?’
‘I think that Yahmose and you and Ipy–and perhaps Kait too, had better be very careful indeed what you eat and drink. See always that a slave tastes it first.’
‘And you, grandmother?’
Esa smiled her sardonic smile.
‘I, Renisenb, am an old woman, and I love life as only the old can, savouring every hour, every minute that is left to them. Of you all I have the best chance of life–because I shall be more careful than any of you.’
‘And my father? Surely Nofret would wish no evil to my father?’
‘Your father? I do not know…No, I do not know. I cannot as yet see clearly. Tomorrow, when I have thought about it all, I must speak once more with that herd boy. There was something about his story–’
She broke off, frowning. Then, with a sigh, she rose to her feet, and helping herself with her stick, limped slowly back to her own quarters.
Renisenb went into her brother’s room. He was sleeping and she crept out again softly. After a moment’s hesitation she went to Kait’s quarters. She stood in the doorway unnoticed, watching Kait sing one of the children to sleep. Kait’s face was calm and placid again–she looked so much as usual that for a moment Renisenb felt that the whole tragic occurrences of the last twenty-four hours were a dream.
She turned slowly away and went to her own apartment. On a table, amongst her own cosmetic boxes and jars, was the little jewel case that had belonged to Nofret.
Renisenb picked it up and stood looking at it as it lay on the palm of her hand. Nofret had touched it, had held it–it was her possession.
And again a wave of pity swept over Renisenb, allied to that queer sense of understanding. Nofret had been unhappy. As she had held this little box in her hand perhaps she had deliberately forced that unhappiness into malice and hatred…and even now that hatred was unabated…was still seeking revenge…Oh no, surely not–surely not!
Almost mechanically, Renisenb twisted the two buttons and slid back the lid. The carnelian beads were there and the broken amulet and something else…
Her heart beating violently, Renisenb drew out a necklace of gold beads with gold lions in front…
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
FIRST MONTH OF SUMMER 30TH DAY
The finding of the necklace frightened Renisenb badly.
On the impulse of the minute she replaced it quickly in the jewel box, slid home the lid and tied the string round the buttons again. Her instinct was to conceal her discovery. She even glanced fearfully behind her to make sure that no one had watched what she had been doing.
She passed a sleepless night, twisting to and fro uneasily and settling and resettling her head on the curved wooden headrest of her bed.
By the morning she had decided that she must confide in someone. She could not bear the weight of that disturbing discovery alone. Twice in the night she had started up, wondering if, perhaps, she might perceive Nofret’s figure standing menacingly by her side. But there was nothing to be seen.
Taking the lion necklace from the jewel box, Renisenb hid it in the folds of her linen dress. She had only just done so when Henet came bustling in. Her eyes were bright and sharp with the pleasure of having fresh news to impart.
‘Just imagine, Renisenb, isn’t it terrible? That boy–the herd boy, you know–fast asleep this morning out by the cornbins and everyone shaking him and yelling in his ear–and now it seems that he’ll never wake again. It’s as though he’d drunk the poppy juice–and maybe he did–but if so who gave it to him? Nobody here, that I’ll be bound. And it’s not likely he’d take it himself. Oh, we might have known how it would be yesterday.’ Henet’s hand went to one of the many amulets she wore. ‘Amūn protect us against the evil spirits of the dead! The boy told what he saw. He told how he saw Her. And so She came back and gave him poppy juice to close his eyes for ever. Oh, She’s very powerful, that Nofret! She’s been abroad, you know, out of Egypt. I dare swear she got to know all sorts of outlandish primitive magic. We’re not safe in this house–none of us are safe. Your father should give several bulls to Amūn–a whole herd if necessary–this isn’t a time for economy. We’ve got to protect ourselves. We must appeal to your mother–that’s what Imhotep is planning to do. The Priest Mersu says so. A solemn Letter to the Dead. Hori is busy now drawing up the terms of it. Your father was for addressing it to Nofret–appealing to her. You know: ‘Most excellent Nofret, what evil thing have I ever done to you–’ etc. But as the Divine Father Mersu pointed out, it needs stronger measures than that. Now your mother, Ashayet, was a great lady. Her mother’s brother was the Nomarch and her brother was Chief Butler to the Vizier of Thebes. If it’s once brought to her knowledge, she’ll see to it that a mere concubine isn’t allowed to destroy her own children! Oh yes, we’ll get justice done. As I say, Hori is drawing up the plea to her now.’
It had been Renisenb’s intention to seek out Hori and tell him about her finding of the lion necklace. But if Hori were busy with the priests at the Temple of Isis it was hopeless to think of trying to get hold of him alone.
Should she go to her father? Dissatisfied, Renisenb shook her head. Her old childish belief in her fa
ther’s omnipotence had quite passed away. She realized now how quickly in times of crisis he went to pieces–a fussy pomposity replacing any real strength. If Yahmose were not ill, she could have told him, though she doubted if he would have any very practical counsels to offer. He would probably insist on the matter being laid before Imhotep.
And that, Renisenb felt with increasing urgency, was at all costs to be avoided. The first thing Imhotep would do would be to blazon the whole thing abroad, and Renisenb had a strong instinct for keeping it secret–though for what reason she would have been hard put to it to say.
No, it was Hori’s advice she wanted. Hori would, as always, know the right thing to do. He would take the necklace from her and at the same time take her worry and perplexity away. He would look at her with those kind grave eyes and instantly she would feel that now all was well…
For a moment Renisenb was tempted to confide in Kait–but Kait was unsatisfactory, she never listened properly. Perhaps if one got her away from her children–no, it wouldn’t do. Kait was nice, but stupid.
Renisenb thought: ‘There is Kameni…and there is my grandmother.’
Kameni…? There was something pleasurable in the thought of telling Kameni. She could see his face quite clearly in her thoughts–its expression changing from a merry challenge to interest–to apprehension on her behalf…Or would it not be on her behalf?
Why this insidious lurking suspicion that Nofret and Kameni had been closer friends than had appeared on the surface? Because Kameni had helped Nofret in her campaign of detaching Imhotep from his family? He had protested that he could not help himself. But was that true? It was an easy thing to say. Everything Kameni said sounded easy and natural and right. His laugh was so gay that you wanted to laugh too. The swing of his body was so graceful as he walked–the turn of his head on those smooth bronze shoulders–his eyes that looked at you–that looked at you–Renisenb’s thoughts broke off confusedly. Kameni’s eyes were not like Hori’s eyes, safe and kind. They demanded, they challenged.
Renisenb’s thoughts had brought blood into her cheeks and a sparkle into her eye. But she decided that she would not tell Kameni about the finding of Nofret’s necklace. No, she would go to Esa. Esa had impressed her yesterday. Old as she was, the old woman had a grasp of things and a shrewd practical sense that was unshared by anyone else in the family.
Renisenb thought: ‘She is old. But she will know.’
II
At the first mention of the necklace, Esa glanced quickly round, placed a finger to her lips and held out her hand. Renisenb fumbled in her dress, drew out the necklace and laid it in Esa’s hand. Esa held it for a moment close to her dim eyes, then stowed it away in her dress. She said in a low, authoritative voice:
‘No more now. Talking in this house is talking to a hundred ears. I have lain awake most of the night thinking, and there is much that must be done.’
‘My father and Hori have gone to the Temple of Isis to confer with the Priest Mersu on the drawing up of a petition to my mother for her intervention.’
‘I know. Well, let your father concern himself with the spirits of the dead. My thoughts deal with the things of this world. When Hori returns, bring him here to me. There are things that must be said and discussed–and Hori I can trust.’
‘Hori will know what to do,’ said Renisenb happily.
Esa looked at her curiously.
‘You go often to see him at the Tomb, do you not? What do you talk about, you and Hori?’
Renisenb shook her head vaguely.
‘Oh, the River–and Egypt–and the way the light changes and the colours of the sand below and the rocks…But very often we do not talk at all. I just sit there and it is peaceful, with no scolding voices and no crying children and no bustle of coming and going. I can think my own thoughts and Hori does not interrupt them. And then, sometimes, I look up and find him watching me and we both smile…I can be happy up there.’
Esa said slowly:
‘You are lucky, Renisenb. You have found the happiness that is inside everybody’s own heart. To most women happiness means coming and going, busied over small affairs. It is care for one’s children and laughter and conversation and quarrels with other women and alternate love and anger with a man. It is made up of small things strung together like beads on a string.’
‘Has your life been like that, grandmother?’
‘Most of it. But now that I am old and sit much alone and my sight is dim and I walk with difficulty–then I realize that there is a life within as well as a life without. But I am too old now to learn the true way of it–and so I scold my little maid and enjoy good food hot from the kitchen and savour all the many different kinds of bread that we bake and enjoy ripe grapes and the juice from the pomegranates. These things remain when others go. The children that I have loved most are now dead. Your father, Ra help him, was always a fool. I loved him when he was a toddling little boy, but now he irritates me with his airs of importance. Of my grandchildren I love you, Renisenb–and talking of grandchildren, where is Ipy? I have not seen him today or yesterday.’
‘He is very busy superintending the storing of the grain. My father left him in charge.’
Esa grinned.
‘That will please our young gander. He will be strutting about full of his own importance. When he comes in to eat tell him to come to me.’
‘Yes, Esa.’
‘For the rest, Renisenb, silence…’
III
‘You wanted to see me, grandmother?’
Ipy stood smiling and arrogant, his head held a little on one side, a flower held between his white teeth. He looked very pleased with himself and with life generally.
‘If you can spare a moment of your valuable time,’ said Esa, screwing her eyes up to see better and looking him up and down.
The acerbity of her tone made no impression on Ipy.
‘It is true that I am very busy today. I have to oversee everything since my father has gone to the Temple.’
‘Young jackals bark loud,’ said Esa.
But Ipy was quite imperturbable.
‘Come, grandmother, you must have more to say to me than that.’
‘Certainly I have more to say. And to begin with, this is a house of mourning. Your brother Sobek’s body is already in the hands of the embalmers. Yet your face is as cheerful as though this was a festival day.’
Ipy grinned.
‘You are no hypocrite, Esa. Would you have me be one? You know very well that there was no love lost between me and Sobek. He did everything he could to thwart and annoy me. He treated me as a child. He gave me all the most humiliating and childish tasks in the fields. Frequently he jeered and laughed at me. And when my father would have associated me with him in partnership, together with my elder brothers, it was Sobek who persuaded him not to do so.’
‘What makes you think it was Sobek who persuaded him?’ asked Esa sharply.
‘Kameni told me so.’
‘Kameni?’ Esa raised her eyebrows, pushed her wig on one side and scratched her head. ‘Kameni indeed. Now I find that interesting.’
‘Kameni said he had it from Henet–and we all agree that Henet always knows everything.’
‘Nevertheless,’ said Esa drily, ‘this is an occasion when Henet was wrong in her facts. Doubtless both Sobek and Yahmose were of opinion that you were too young for the business–but it was I–yes, I who dissuaded your father from including you.’
‘You, grandmother? The boy stared at her in frank surprise. Then a dark scowl altered the expression of his face, the flower fell from his lips. ‘Why should you do that? What business was it of yours?’
‘My family’s business is my business.’
‘And my father listened to you?’
‘Not at the moment,’ said Esa drily. ‘But I will teach you a lesson, my handsome child. Women work roundabout–and they learn (if they are not born with the knowledge) to play on the weaknesses of men. You may remember I sen
t Henet with the gaming board to the porch in the cool of the evening.’
‘I remember. My father and I played together. What of it?’
‘This. You played three games. And each time, being a much cleverer player, you beat your father.’
‘Yes.’
‘That is all,’ said Esa, closing her eyes. ‘Your father, like all inferior players, did not like being beaten–especially by a chit of a boy. So he remembered my words–and he decided that you were certainly too young to be given a share in the partnership.’
Ipy stared at her for a moment. Then he laughed–not a very pleasant laugh.
‘You are clever, Esa,’ he said. ‘Yes, you may be old, but you are clever. Decidedly you and I have the brains of the family. You have pegged out in the first match on our gaming board. But you will see, I shall win the second. So look to yourself, grandmother.’
‘I intend to,’ said Esa. ‘And in return for your words, let me advise you to look to yourself. One of your brothers is dead, the other has been near to death. You also are your father’s son–and you may go the same way.’
Ipy laughed scornfully.
‘There is little fear of that.’
‘Why not? You also threatened and insulted Nofret.’
‘Nofret!’ Ipy’s scorn was unmistakable.
‘What is in your mind?’ demanded Esa sharply.
‘I have my ideas, grandmother. And I can assure you that Nofret and her spirit tricks will not worry me. Let her do her worst.’
There was a shrill wail behind him and Henet ran in crying out:
‘Foolish boy–imprudent child. Defying the dead! And after we’ve all had a taste of her quality! And not so much as an amulet on you for protection!’
‘Protection? I will protect myself. Get out of my way, Henet, I’ve got work to do. Those lazy peasants shall know what it is to have a real master over them.’
Pushing Henet aside, Ipy strode out of the room.
Esa cut short Henet’s wails and lamentations.
‘Listen to me, Henet, and stop exclaiming about Ipy. He may know what he is doing or he may not. His manner is very odd. But answer me this, did you tell Kameni that it was Sobek who had persuaded Imhotep not to include Ipy in the deed of association?’
Death Comes as the End Page 12