CHAPTER SEVEN

  FIRST MONTH OF WINTER 5TH DAY

  Renisenb’s dream had left her wakeful. She slept after it only in snatches and towards morning she did not sleep at all. She was obsessed by an obscure feeling of impending evil.

  She rose early and went out of the house. Her steps led her, as they did so often, to the Nile. There were fishermen out already and a big barge rowing with powerful strokes towards Thebes. There were other boats with sails flapping in the faint puffs of wind.

  Something turned over in Renisenb’s heart, the stirring of a desire for something she could not name. She thought, ‘I feel–I feel–’ But she did not know what it was that she felt! That is to say, she knew no words to fit the sensation. She thought, ‘I want–but what do I want?’

  Was it Khay she wanted? Khay was dead–he would not come back. She said to herself, ‘I shall not think of Khay any more. What is the use? It is over, all that.’

  Then she noticed another figure standing looking after the barge that was making for Thebes–and something about that figure–some emotion it expressed by its very motionlessness struck Renisenb, even as she recognized Nofret.

  Nofret staring out at the Nile. Nofret–alone. Nofret thinking of–what?

  With a little shock Renisenb suddenly realized how little they all knew about Nofret. They had accepted her as an enemy–a stranger–without interest or curiosity in her life or the surroundings from which she had come.

  It must, Renisenb thought suddenly, be sad for Nofret alone here, without friends, surrounded only by people who disliked her.

  Slowly Renisenb went forward until she was standing by Nofret’s side. Nofret turned her head for a moment then moved it back again and resumed her study of the Nile. Her face was expressionless.

  Renisenb said timidly:

  ‘There are a lot of boats on the River.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Renisenb went on, obeying some obscure impulse towards friendliness:

  ‘Is it like this, at all, where you come from?’

  Nofret laughed, a short, rather bitter laugh.

  ‘No, indeed. My father is a merchant in Memphis. It is gay and amusing in Memphis. There is music and singing and dancing. Then my father travels a good deal. I have been with him to Syria–to Byblos beyond the Gazelle’s Nose. I have been with him in a big ship on the wide seas.’

  She spoke with pride and animation.

  Renisenb stood quite still, her mind working slowly, but with growing interest and understanding.

  ‘It must be very dull for you here,’ she said slowly.

  Nofret laughed impatiently.

  ‘It is dead here–dead–nothing but ploughing and sowing and reaping and grazing–and talk of crops–and wranglings about the price of flax.’

  Renisenb was still wrestling with unfamiliar thoughts as she watched Nofret sideways.

  And suddenly, as though it was something physical, a great wave of anger and misery and despair seemed to emanate from the girl at her side.

  Renisenb thought: ‘She is as young as I am–younger. And she is the concubine of that old man, that fussy, kindly, but rather ridiculous old man, my father…’

  What did she, Renisenb, know about Nofret? Nothing at all. What was it Hori had said yesterday when she had cried out, ‘She is beautiful and cruel and bad!’

  ‘You are a child, Renisenb.’ That was what he had said. Renisenb knew now what he meant. Those words of hers had meant nothing–you could not dismiss a human being so easily. What sorrow, what bitterness, what despair lay behind Nofret’s cruel smile? What had Renisenb, what had any of them, done to make Nofret welcome?

  Renisenb said stumblingly, childishly:

  ‘You hate us all–I see why–we have not been kind–but now–it is not too late. Can we not, you and I, Nofret, can we not be sisters to each other? You are far away from all you know–you are alone–can I not help?’

  Her words faltered into silence. Nofret turned slowly.

  For a minute or two her face was expressionless–there was even, Renisenb thought, a momentary softening in her eyes. In that early morning stillness, with its strange clarity and peace, it was as though Nofret hesitated–as though Renisenb’s words had touched in her some last core of irresolution.

  It was a strange moment, a moment Renisenb was to remember afterwards…

  Then, gradually, Nofret’s expression changed. It became heavily malevolent, her eyes smouldered. Before the fury of hate and malice in her glance, Renisenb recoiled a step.

  Nofret said in a low, fierce voice:

  ‘Go! I want nothing from any of you. Stupid fools, that is what you all are, every one of you…’

  She paused a moment, then wheeled round and retraced her steps towards the house, walking with energy.

  Renisenb followed her slowly. Curiously enough, Nofret’s words had not made her angry. They had opened before her eyes a black abyss of hate and misery–something quite unknown as yet in her own experience, and in her mind was only a confused, groping thought of how dreadful it must be to feel like that.

  II

  As Nofret entered the gateway and crossed the courtyard, one of Kait’s children came running across her path, chasing a ball.

  Nofret thrust the child out of her way with an angry thrust that sent the little girl sprawling on the ground. The child set up a wail and Renisenb ran to her and picked her up, saying indignantly:

  ‘You should not have done that, Nofret! You have hurt her, see. She has cut her chin.’

  Nofret laughed stridently.

  ‘So I should be careful not to hurt these spoiled brats? Why? Are their mothers so careful of my feelings?’

  Kait had come running out of the house at the sound of her child’s wails. She ran to it, examining the injured face. Then she turned on Nofret.

  ‘Devil and serpent! Evil one! Wait and see what we will do to you.’

  With all the force of her arm she struck Nofret in the face. Renisenb gave a cry and caught her arm before she could repeat the blow.

  ‘Kait–Kait–you must not do that.’

  ‘Who says so? Let Nofret look to herself. She is only one here among many.’

  Nofret stood quite still. The print of Kait’s hand showed clear and red on her cheek. By the corner of the eye, where a bangle Kait wore on her wrist had cut the skin, a small trickle of blood was running down her face.

  But it was Nofret’s expression that puzzled Renisenb–yes, and frightened her. Nofret showed no anger. Instead there was a queer, exultant look in her eyes, and once more her mouth was curving up in its cat-like, satisfied smile.

  ‘Thank you, Kait,’ she said.

  Then she walked on into the house.

  III

  Humming softly under her breath, her eyelids lowered, Nofret called Henet.

  Henet came running, stopped, exclaimed. Nofret cut short her exclamations.

  ‘Fetch me Kameni. Tell him to bring his pencase and ink and papyrus. There is a letter to be written to the master.’

  Henet’s eyes were fixed on Nofret’s cheek.

  ‘To the master…I see…’

  Then she asked: ‘Who did–that?’

  ‘Kait.’ Nofret smiled quietly and reminiscently.

  Henet shook her head and clicked her tongue.

  ‘All this is very bad–very bad…certainly the master must know of it.’ She darted a quick, sideways look at Nofret. ‘Yes, certainly Imhotep must know.’

  Nofret said smoothly: ‘You and I, Henet, think alike…I thought that we should do so.’

  From the corner of her linen robe she detached a jewel of amethyst set in gold and placed it in the woman’s hand.

  ‘You and I; Henet, have Imhotep’s true welfare at heart.’

  ‘This is too good for me, Nofret…You are too generous…such a lovely bit of workmanship.’

  ‘Imhotep and I appreciate fidelity.’

  Nofret was still smiling, her eyes narrow and cat-like.

>   ‘Fetch Kameni,’ she said. ‘And come with him. You and he together are witnesses of what has occurred.’

  Kameni came a little unwillingly, his brow puckered.

  Nofret spoke imperiously:

  ‘You remember Imhotep’s instructions–before he left?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Kameni.

  ‘The time has come,’ said Nofret. ‘Sit and take ink and write as I tell you.’ Then as Kameni still hesitated, she said impatiently, ‘What you write shall be what you have seen with your own eyes and heard with your own ears–and Henet shall confirm all I say. The letter must be despatched with all secrecy and speed.’

  Kameni said slowly, ‘I do not like–’

  Nofret flashed out at him: ‘I have no complaint against Renisenb. Renisenb is soft, weak and a fool, but she has not tried to harm me. Does that content you?’

  The colour of Kameni’s bronze face deepened.

  ‘I was not thinking of that–’

  Nofret said smoothly:

  ‘I think you were…Come now–fulfil your instructions–write.’

  ‘Yes, write,’ said Henet. ‘I’m so distressed by all this–so terribly distressed. Certainly Imhotep must know about it. It’s only right that he should. However unpleasant a thing is, one has to do one’s duty. I’ve always felt that.’

  Nofret laughed softly.

  ‘I’m sure you have, Henet. You shall do your duty! And Kameni shall do his office. And I–I shall do what it is my pleasure to do…’

  But still Kameni hesitated. His face was sullen–almost angry.

  ‘I do not like this,’ he said. ‘Nofret, you had better take a little time to think.’

  ‘You say that to me!’

  Kameni flushed at her tone. His eyes avoided hers, but his sullen expression remained.

  ‘Be careful, Kameni,’ said Nofret smoothly. ‘I have great influence with Imhotep. He listens to what I say–so far he has been pleased with you–’ She paused significantly.

  ‘Are you threatening me, Nofret?’ asked Kameni, angrily.

  ‘Perhaps.’

  He looked angrily at her for a moment or two–then he bent his head.

  ‘I will do as you say, Nofret, but I think–yes, I think–that you will be sorry.’

  ‘Are you threatening me, Kameni?’

  ‘I am warning you…’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SECOND MONTH OF WINTER 10TH DAY

  Day followed day, and Renisenb sometimes felt that she was living in a dream.

  She had made no more timid overtures to Nofret. She was, now, afraid of Nofret. There was something about Nofret she did not understand.

  After the scene in the courtyard that day, Nofret had changed. There was a complacency about her, an exultation, that Renisenb could not fathom. Sometimes she thought that her own vision of Nofret as profoundly unhappy must have been ridiculously wrong. Nofret seemed pleased with life and herself and her surroundings.

  And yet, actually, her surroundings had very definitely changed for the worse. In the days following Imhotep’s departure, Nofret had quite deliberately, Renisenb thought, set out to sow dissension between the various members of Imhotep’s family.

  Now that family had closed its ranks solidly against the invader. There were no more dissensions between Satipy and Kait–no railing of Satipy against the unfortunate Yahmose. Sobek seemed quieter and boasted less. Ipy was less impudent and offhand with his elder brothers. There seemed a new harmony between the family yet this harmony did not bring peace of mind to Renisenb–for with it went a curious, persistent undercurrent of illwill to Nofret.

  The two women, Satipy and Kait, no longer quarrelled with her–they avoided her. They never spoke to her, and wherever she came they immediately gathered the children together and went elsewhere. At the same time, queer, annoying little accidents began to happen. A linen dress of Nofret’s was spoilt with an overhot iron–some dye stuff was spilt over another. Sometimes sharp thorns found their way into her clothing–a scorpion was discovered by her bed. The food that was served to her was over-seasoned–or lacking in any seasoning. There was a dead mouse one day in her portion of bread.

  It was a quiet, relentless, petty persecution–nothing overt, nothing to lay hold of–it was essentially a woman’s campaign.

  Then, one day, old Esa sent for Satipy, Kait and Renisenb. Henet was already there, shaking her head and rubbing her hands in the background.

  ‘Ha!’ said Esa, peering at them with her usual ironical expression. ‘So here are my clever granddaughters. What do you think you are doing, all of you? What is this I hear about Nofret’s dress being ruined–and her food uneatable?’

  Satipy and Kait both smiled. They were not nice smiles.

  Satipy said, ‘Has Nofret complained?’

  ‘No,’ said Esa. She pushed the wig she always wore even in the house a little awry with one hand. ‘No, Nofret has not complained. That is what worries me.’

  ‘It does not worry me,’ said Satipy, tossing her handsome head.

  ‘Because you are a fool,’ snapped Esa. ‘Nofret has twice the brains of any of you three.’

  ‘That remains to be seen,’ said Satipy. She looked good-humoured and pleased with herself.

  ‘What do you think you are all doing?’ inquired Esa.

  Satipy’s face hardened.

  ‘You are an old woman, Esa. I do not speak with any lack of respect–but things no longer matter to you in the way they matter to us who have husbands and young children. We have decided to take the matter into our own hands–we have ways of dealing with a woman whom we do not like and will not accept.’

  ‘Fine words,’ said Esa. ‘Fine words.’ She cackled. ‘But a good discourse can be found with slave girls over the millstone.’

  ‘A true and wise saying,’ sighed Henet from the background.

  Esa turned on her.

  ‘Come, Henet, what does Nofret say to all this that is going on? You should know–you are always waiting on her.’

  ‘As Imhotep told me to do. It is repugnant to me, of course–but I must do what the master ordered. You do not think I hope–’

  Esa cut into the whining voice:

  ‘We know all about you, Henet. Always devoted–and seldom thanked as you should be. What does Nofret say to all this? That is what I asked you.’

  Henet shook her head.

  ‘She says nothing. She just–smiles.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Esa picked up a jujube from a dish at her elbow, examined it and put it in her mouth. Then she said with sudden, malevolent acerbity:

  ‘You are fools, all of you. The power is with Nofret, not with you. All you are doing is to play into her hands. I dare swear it even pleases her what you are doing.’

  Satipy said sharply: ‘Nonsense. Nofret is alone amongst many. What power has she?’

  Esa said grimly:

  ‘The power of a young, beautiful woman married to an ageing man. I know what I am talking about.’ With a quick turn of her head she said: ‘Henet knows what I am talking about!’

  Henet started. She sighed and began to twist her hands.

  ‘The master thinks a great deal of her–naturally–yes, quite naturally.’

  ‘Go to the kitchen,’ said Esa. ‘Bring me some dates and some Syrian wine–yes, and honey too.’

  When Henet had gone, the old woman said:

  ‘There is mischief brewing–I can smell it. Satipy, you are the leader in all this. Be careful that while you are thinking yourself clever, you do not play into Nofret’s hands.’

  She leaned back and closed her eyes.

  ‘I have warned you–now go.’

  ‘We in Nofret’s power, indeed!’ said Satipy with a toss of her head as they went out to the lake. ‘Esa is so old she gets the most extraordinary ideas into her head. It is we who have got Nofret in our power! We will do nothing against her that can be reported–but I think, yes, I think, that she will soon be sorry she ever came here.’

  ‘You are crue
l–cruel–’ cried Renisenb.

  Satipy looked amused.

  ‘Do not pretend you love Nofret, Renisenb!’

  ‘I do not. But you sound so–so vindictive.’

  ‘I think of my children–and Yahmose! I am not a meek woman or one who brooks insult–and I have ambition. I would wring that woman’s neck with the greatest of pleasure. Unfortunately it is not so simple as that. Imhotep’s anger must not be roused. But I think–in the end–something may be managed.’

  II

  The letter came like a spearthrust to a fish.

  Dumbfounded, silent, Yahmose, Sobek and Ipy stared at Hori as he read out the words from the papyrus scroll.

  ‘Did I not tell Yahmose that I would hold him to blame if any harm came to my concubine? As you all live, I am against you and you are against me! I will no longer live with you in one house since you have not respected my concubine Nofret! You are no longer my son of my flesh. Neither are Sobek and Ipy my sons of my flesh. Each one of you has done harm to my concubine. That is attested by Kameni and Henet. I will turn you out of my house–each of you! I have supported you–now I will no longer support you.’

  Hori paused and went on:

  ‘The ka servant Imhotep addresses Hori. To you who have been faithful, how are you in your life, safety and health? Salute my mother Esa for me and my daughter Renisenb and greet Henet. Look after my affairs carefully until I reach you and see that there be prepared for me a deed whereby my concubine Nofret shall share with me in all my property as my wife. Neither Yahmose, nor Sobek shall be associated with me, nor will I support them, and hereby I denounce them that they have done harm to my concubine! Keep all safe till I come. How evil is it when a man’s household do evil deeds to his concubine. As for Ipy, let him take warning, and if he does a single hurt to my concubine, he too shall depart from my house.’

  There was a paralysed silence, then Sobek rose up in a violent rage.

  ‘How has this come about? What has my father heard? Who has been bearing false tales to him? Shall we endure this? My father cannot disinherit us so and give all his goods to his concubine!’