“You could improve the Royal Library,” She said to Him one day, and when He grunted, and finally replied, “There is not a library anywhere its equal,” She said, “All the more reason to improve it!” whereupon He guffawed and said, “Well, You poor bald little thing,”—She did not wear Her wig when alone with Him, no need, His eyes were delighted with Her face—“You bird with no feathers, how would You improve My library?”
“In My country,” She said, “My father knows the customs of traveling merchants, and many of them like to carry a papyrus, or a book of tablets. They wish something to study on their long travels. The pious keep prayers to look upon each night. In Kadesh, My father requires all such itinerant merchants to leave their writings at our own Royal Library long enough to be copied.”
“I would not like such a practice,” said Usermare. “It would put many disturbances into the air. All that strange writing being copied at once. I prefer a story I have heard already,” He said. “Is that not true, Heqat?”
“It is true, Divine Two-House,” said Heqat.
“Like the story you tell of the ugly woman whose husband never gets sick. Meni, do you remember that story?”
“I do.”
“Do you think Heqat could be as good for you?”
“Good and Great God, I have not asked myself the question.” But I did now. Could this be revenge? I did not understand my Usermare any longer. He might no longer kill you for too little. Rather, He would enjoy your suffering. How fine His laughter if I were married to Heqat. Yet, again, I did not know His thoughts, and longed for the wisdom I used to have when near to Honey-Ball.
But He was bored. So He said to Rama-Nefru, “Speak to Me in Sumerian.” He was very proud of Her command of such a tongue, which, as Heqat had explained to me, was studied only by Hittite girls of the best families (who would try to emulate the Babylonians and Assyrians). No one spoke it anymore, but it was considered very cultivated among the Hittites to be familiar with so old a language of religion and learning. “Do you know,” He said, “She can tell you many things in Sumerian.”
“Oh, I do not want to, today,” She said.
“Tell us about the eunuchs,” He insisted.
She was playing with Her cat, a beautiful silver-gray animal with a tail as high and arching as a palm leaf, and now She stroked this tail between Her thumb and forefinger. “Mer-mer,” She asked the cat, “do you wish to hear of the Sumerian eunuchs?” and when Mer-mer stretched her back, Rama-Nefru smiled. “She says yes, so I will tell You, but if Mer-mer said no, You would not hear a word.” Now, Rama-Nefru stretched like a cat. “When I was still in school at My own palace, My girl friends and I used to suffer from Sumerian. It was so difficult. We would cry. But in our Library, we found a book with all the forbidden words. How My girl friends and I used to laugh at these expressions. Do you know that in Sumerian there are three words for eunuch? Yes,” She said, “there is kurgurru, there is girbadera, and there is sagursag. The first is for the eunuch who has lost his sack, and the second is for the one who has lost the finger between his legs but keeps his sack. So he is still a man. The third is the word for the true eunuch. He has nothing at all. Oh, we used to giggle over these words. Because the first kind, the kurgurru, are gossips, and sour as vinegar; the second kind, since they still have their sack, make fearless warriors, and the last, who own nothing, are honest eunuchs and peaceful as cattle.”
“I like that story,” He said. “Tell Me another.”
“No, You are insatiable,” She said. “You are not the Pharaoh Ramses but King Sargon.”
“Tell Me about Sargon,” He said.
She consulted the tail of Mer-mer before She decided to speak. “Sargon,” said Rama-Nefru, “was a great King of the Sumerians and reigned for fifty-six years. He conquered all lands. You are My Sargon.”
“Do you hear?” said Usermare. “Fifty-six years.”
“You are My Sargon and My Hammurabi,” She said.
“Why am I Your Hammurabi?”
“Because You are so cruel and so just.”
He had a keen look of pleasure on His face. He loved the sound of Hammurabi. It was vigorous on His ear.
At a sign from Heqat, I stood up, and we left Their room, but I might as well have been on a long tether for we had gone no farther than the next chamber before I could feel the strength of His will ordering us to wait. We might not witness what They did, but we were certainly obliged to listen.
“Hammurabi,” She said, when They were by this manner alone, “why do Your Egyptian women have so many husbands?”
He laughed. “You have it wrong,” He said. “They have one husband and many lovers.”
“Then I am not very Egyptian,” She said. “I have one husband and no lovers.”
“You,” He said, and He laughed with more happiness than I had ever heard Him, “are not very Egyptian.”
“It is true,” She said. “I was told in Kadesh that of all the nations, Egyptian wives are the first to practice adultery.”
“For once,” He said, “they know what they are talking about in Kadesh.”
“They also say,” She said, “that You are the one who made all those wives so adulterous.”
He roared with laughter. I had never heard Him laugh so loud. “Are You jealous?” He asked.
“No, I am pleased that You like Me. Come here, Mer-mer.” I heard Her petting the cat. “Aren’t You,” She asked, “ever afraid that You will injure all of Egypt by teaching such frightful desires to the women?”
“Oh, no,” He said. “Egyptian women have always been like this.”
Now He told Her a tale of a blind Pharaoh who asked the Gods to restore His sight. It was simple, They said. So soon as He found one faithful wife among His subjects, He would see again. “Well,” said Usermare, “this Pharaoh couldn’t find a wife to cure Him.” Now I heard His sigh. “Will You always remain faithful to Me?” He asked.
“Always,” She said. “But not because I love You so much. It is only because I do not think I am a Goddess. Egyptian women believe they are. So, of course, they cannot stay with one man. But I know better.”
Sitting in the next room with Heqat by my side (and the true uneasiness for me was the ease with which she moved near) I waited in the darkness of these purple tiles, and listened to the cries of the cat in Rama-Nefru’s chamber. She was a noble little animal with fur so smooth one could have been feeling the fondest part of oneself, and she was most composed. Now, however, Mer-mer uttered outraged cries, as if the body of her mistress were being disturbed, yet all I could hear was Rama-Nefru’s giggle and the rustle of much tickling and touching.
So far as I could determine, and They made many small sounds, there could not be much to see. I had an impression of Usermare much engaged in the act of holding Her hand, and when my curiosity became as sharp as teeth nipping at my vitals (for in my mind I saw Them so clearly!) I stood up at last, and peered into Their room. They were exactly as I had placed Them—side by side, Her royal fingers in His. But I was not prepared for the look of passion upon Her face, quick and tortured. I heard Him murmur, “I am the Strong Bull, Beloved of Maat, I am His Majesty Horus, Strong of Truth and Chosen of Ra.”
A sweet but most peculiar sound came forth from Her, not a groan nor a squeak, but some protest of Her flesh at its own pleasure, like the turn of a hinge, and She said, “Yes,” and gripped His hand, and said, “Keep speaking to Me,” and He said in a low voice, as pure as the trembling of earth, “I am the Throne of the Two-Countries. My strength is famous in all lands. At the sound of My name, gold comes out of the mountains.”
If I had not seen the shaking of Her body, I would have known from Her quick little screams that She was coming forth, there, fully dressed and beside Him, no more than Their fingers entwined. In turn, pressed back by the intimate force of these sentiments, I felt obliged to sit next to Heqat again, and that lady, much aroused, was ready to welcome me with all she could offer.
Honey-Ba
ll having instructed my body in the uses of the swamp (by which I learned that the most intoxicating caresses are fermented like spirits out of the worst rot) I had come to understand the half of love, the lower half, be it certain, but Honey-Ball could also offer the bountiful splendor of flesh, whereas Heqat, by this measure of the swamp, was not even a beast, but (for the blessing of her eyes) a lizard or a snake. Now, I knew why Usermare saw her once a year. For I felt within myself the eight fathers and mothers of the slime, and was stirred by all that moves in the dark earth beneath the blackest water. I shuddered beside Heqat, resisting the temptation to enjoy every demon she could command as if I would thereby be sealed into marriage on the spot (and not even by my own lack of will, but rather by all she must now command of Usermare’s powers). So I stood up then, and knew—do not ask me how—that if I did not remove myself from Heqat, Nefertiri would be lost forever. The gesture cost me dear. My loins had known such a turning of the springs that I now felt disemboweled—such an abrupt quenching of these sudden heats—no, say I was nothing but smoke in my lower regions.
It was at this moment that I heard Usermare making extraordinary sounds, not like the convulsions of choking, yet a voice of the greatest urgency was certainly coming out of His throat. The shriek of a bull with a rope around his neck would not be far from these strangled moans! I dared again to look through the door, and there He was, my King, with His head between Her legs. Never had I seen Usermare’s mouth on a woman, not in any sport, no matter how abandoned, with any number of little queens, no, the sight struck me as vividly as a gleam of light entering my eyes. He gorged like a wild boar on an exquisite root of the damp forest, here no more than Her blond little nest, and growled as He came forth and shouted something about the heart of the Hittites, and sunlight on the sea—a gabble! I hardly knew what He said for noticing that She remained unmoved. So soon as He was done, indeed, She reached for His hand again and spoke of His royal fingers, and Her hope that they were not weary.
I moved back from the door and sat down, a tingle of miseries, while Heqat, on the other side of the room, was left in the bubbling of her heats. All the while I was obliged to listen to Rama-Nefru’s clear voice telling Him that She worshipped His fingers on Hers, She said it, She even said, “I love Your hand!” and indeed, I thought, “This is how Egypt enters Her!” but mocked Her less in my heart when I remembered the wondrous feel of Usermare’s grasp on mine, and how much it told of His joys.
Yet one could know nothing of Rama-Nefru if one would forget what a most practical lady She was. They had hardly done with Their compliments, Their sighs, and Their temporary contentment before She was offering Him questions of a sort to stir every uneasiness in me. No one in the Two-Lands that I knew would ever ask the Pharaoh about such matters, but She was as direct in Her manner as She was silvery in appearance—there, I had it! I knew of what She reminded me: It was no less than the silver tablets on which Khetasar had inscribed his most sensible treaty of peace.
Now, She wanted to know how He, Her husband, Her mighty husband, had become Pharaoh. Was it by way of being the oldest son, She asked? She did not think that was the custom here, She said, and none She knew could tell Her. No, He could tell Her, He said, it was not by that, but by way of marrying His half sister, for Nefertiri, by Her mother’s side, was in the highest royal line.
“You have a daughter with Her?”
“No, but I have a daughter, Bint-Anath, from Esonefret who is also of acceptable line. Of course, She is plain, She is foolish, and She is always with priests. Bint-Anath will never make much of a Queen.”
“Yet a son of Nefertiri could become the Pharaoh if He married Bint-Anath?”
“I suppose so. It is far away. Do not continue to talk about it.”
“But I want Peht-a-Ra protected. I want You to protect Him.”
“You wish to betroth Him to Bint-Anath? She is as old as You.”
“It does not matter. I want You to protect Our son. The Gods formed Our son in My womb.”
“Which Gods?” asked Usermare.
“Which Gods?” She repeated.
“You cannot name Them,” He said, “You do not know the Egyptian Gods.”
“My Gods are Yours,” She said stubbornly.
“Tell Me about Them.”
“I do not wish to know Their secrets.”
“You do not even know the secrets of Your own Gods.”
I could feel His thoughts. They lay heavily on my brow. The fear of great and terrible things had begun again in Usermare. His fear was like the weight of gold and full of majesty. I do not know if it was because of Heqat, but I heard the next of His thoughts, and so clearly that I would have sworn He said it aloud, yet He did not. “The longer I stay with Rama-Nefru,” He said to Himself, “the farther I will be from My Kingdom.”
She must have heard the echo of this. For She said, “You do not need Me to be near Your Gods. If You would sleep in the Temple, Your dreams would keep Them near. That is what My father does.”
Usermare snorted. His fear rose up from Him like the undulation in a swamp as a boat goes by. Nor was I surprised by the place to which His brooding had taken Him. He had begun to think of the dilapidation of the tombs of Pharaohs long gone by. Through His eyes, I saw the broken walls of the temple of Hat-shep-sut at Ittawi. He sighed. “Osiris is the only ancient God,” He said. “Who is worshipped everywhere. No priest allows His temples to molder. That is because He had a wise wife who knew the Gods. Isis was the Seat to the Seat-Maker and She made a wise wife.”
I felt Him mourn for the lack of love that had come between Him and Nefertiri. I was close to His misery as He rose from the bed of Rama-Nefru. She was so ignorant of all He needed. I heard Him say to Himself, “She is not a Goddess, She tells Me, and that is true. She does not act like one.” He left without saying more.
If I thought He had tired of Rama-Nefru, however, I was quick to learn my error. Even as He passed through the outer chamber, I saw by His elbow that I was to follow, and we walked together around the Eye of Maat. He now desired that His old charioteer should begin to instruct His Hittite beauty in the nature of the Egyptian Gods.
Each time I tried to say I would not understand what to teach, He would hear no more. “You know the Gods as I know Them,” He said. “That is good enough for Me. It is, therefore, good for Her. I don’t want a priest who will tell Her so much She thinks She knows more than Me.” He sighed. “You will do this,” He said, “and one day I will surprise you with a gift you do not expect.”
SIX
It was not long before I was in the worst difficulties. Twice around the Eye of Maat, and Usermare returned to Rama-Nefru’s room to tell Her that instruction should begin at once since the Godly Triumph was but a few days away. Then He left. She asked about papyri with which to commence Her study, and I could only reply that the best rolls were to be found in the Temple of Amon.
“Get them now,” She said, but I took the moment to tell Her it would be better to start in the morning. Indeed we could visit the Temple then. We would go in disguise. Like a child, She clapped Her hands in delight.
Next day, dressed as merchants from the Eastern desert, Her face in shadow beneath a woolen cowl, we left by the servants’ gate of the Columns of the White Goddess, crossed many a palace ground and pool and park and garden, passed through the gates of the last wall, promenaded down a great avenue, skirted the walls of the Temple grounds, passed through a Temple village of alleys and huts where many a workman for the priests lived with his tools and his family, and came at last to the Street of Scribes that ended before a courtyard and a chapel, next to which were Temple workshops and many buildings of the school. Everywhere was the industry of these priests. You could see young ones who were student painters practicing the art of temple drawings on a white wall, and on the next wall, other students were painting over yesterday’s work so they could begin new tasks tomorrow. We passed a Chief Scribe while he was scolding a student sculptor who had just cut
a name in a cartouche, but had made a terrible mistake that even I could see. His Eye of Horus was with a spiral that turned in the wrong direction. Then there were musicians in the next alley practicing Temple music for the chants, and one school of scribes stood before other inscriptions on a Temple wall and copied as fast as they could, yes, it was a contest, and groans came out of the losers when the first fellow finished. We went by other courtyards and larger temples where you could see nothing through the great open doors but the white robes of priests listening to a discourse.
I took Her at last to the top of the Western Tower where there was a good view overlooking the boats moored to our quays, four or five lashed to one another out from the wharves, and more than I had ever seen before, were coming up and down the river.
The four corners of our tower were honored by four wooden masts, sheathed in gold, their flags languorous in the light winds of this bright morning, and before our view, many avenues went out like rays of light, and each avenue was lined with statues of rams or sphinxes. In the distance, we could see the canals of Thebes leading up to the docks, while the roof of the Great Temple of Amon spread out beneath us like a terrace. Everywhere was the sight of laborers scrubbing the tiles and flagstones of the monuments and patios of Thebes, and from markets came the sound of music. What a preparation for the Festival of Festivals.
“It is beautiful,” She said, “and rare for Me. I never see the city of Thebes.” Through Her eyes, I witnessed another beauty, for the gold on the pyramidion of many an obelisk in these Temple grounds, had picked up the glow of the sun and shone like leaves of gold on a green and dusty tree. The sky above seemed larger than all the Gods to fill it. “Let us go,” She said, “to see the teachings in the Temple of Amon.”
“That will take long,” I told Her. “Even the First Priest has to wash his hands seven times before he can touch a holy papyrus,” but when She insisted, I was obliged to explain that the priests would never let us, dressed as strange merchants, enter such holy rooms, whereas to tell them who She was, would create the most injurious gossip in their schools. Besides, we would lose this incomparable view and the nearness of the Gods to all that we would say.
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