by D. S.
“The priests of Karnack abhor such offerings, even the acolytes of Seth and Sekhmet mock them. I think perhaps they have the right of it, I’d spare the oxen and...”
“Oxen?” Pentephres raised an eyebrow. “Who said aught of oxen? Oh they suffice for the devils of the Wildlands no doubt, but the old gods demand greater things, why else have they abandoned us? We burnt a hundred bulls after the great fire but the sun spirit gave us no sign. We gave up a thousand lambs a year later, a thousand! And near fifty horses went to the Godfires six moons after that, but still the lords of life and light did not heed our prayers.”
Josef shifted uneasily. Little wonder they could not afford to rebuild the temple. “Hapu has the right of it in this much at least,” Pentephres said, “We must return to the ancient path. A truly great sacrifice is needed, something from my own house, something precious and close to my heart. The gods see our minds, Yuya, and they appreciate true sacrifice; a maid, beautiful, but innocent, a budding flower ready to be taken. To deny yourself such a precious thing and give it to the fires ... now that is a sacrifice,” he laughed. “Or would you have me go before the altar with figs and stuffed olives?” The priest held Josef in a suddenly intense gaze. “The Three That Are One will find my sweet Amaris most pleasing don’t you think?”
Josef gawped at him but Pentephres did not seem to notice, his eyes were elsewhere now. He clapped his hands. “Ah, at last! Here is your real woman, Yuya!”
Josef followed his eyes. Through the high archway that led into the courtyard a young woman appeared. She was an attractive creature, perhaps a little under twenty years, refined and graceful, and possessed of an unusual poise. Dark hair was tied back with fine silver mesh, while flowing waves of blue linen that revealed a little more cleavage than seemed necessary played about her like water. She walked with such practiced grace that it seemed as though she barely touched the soft earth beneath her sandals. A female slave holding a woven sunshade hurried along at her side, ensuring that the high noon rays did not trouble her mistress’s skin.
Josef rose at her approach, admiring the confident sway of her hips. She carried a basket filled with fruit, her pale moonstone necklace jangling in tune to her movements. The woman halted on seeing the handsome, chivalrous stranger who rose so smartly at her appearance. She was suddenly cautious and spoke apologetically, “I’m sorry, Father, I did not know you were entertaining.”
“You did not know I was entertaining! Hah! And what else would I be doing when such a fine man as this sees fit to return to Heliopolis?” Pentephres waved his hand in Josef’s direction. Josef, in turn offered her that practiced courtly bow of his. She returned the bow with a shallow curtsey, her eyes flitting towards the stranger’s and holding them an instant longer than seemed appropriate. His were blue flames, half concealed under a mess of windswept black hair that was somewhat longer than the current mode. It fell about handsome brows in a manner that she decided was not unpleasant, a faint scar on his forehead doing little to hurt his appearance. Her eyes dropped to his kilt. It was of Theban style, a little dated perhaps, but they were still wearing the like in Tjaru and parts more distant, or so she had heard. She turned an enquiring gaze on her father.
Pentephres laughed. “Well, my dear, what are you waiting for?” He seemed positively beside himself. She looked confused and somewhat embarrassed. Finally Pentephres could hold himself back no longer, “Come now, you can surely do a better job of welcoming your betrothed than that!”
She gasped, dropping the basket. Josef took an unsteady step back, his leg hitting the chair causing him to lose his balance and fall unceremoniously backwards. He bounced back to his feet in a hurried attempt to regain his composure. He coughed and stared at the priest, his eyes wide as saucers, “Betrothed!?”
Pentephres laughed again and harder this time. “You see! You see! Our Yuya hasn’t changed a bit!”
The woman motioned for her bodyslave to remain behind and gather up the fruit. She moved closer, into the shadow of the mulberries allowing the dappled light to play over her voluptuous curves. But still a good ten yards remained between them, she eyed the stranger suspiciously. “Y-Yuya is it really you?”
She’d begun to hope the boy she’d loathed would never return, begun to believe that the rumours of his death were true. He’d been fat and ugly, a year older than she and with an air of entitlement about him. She remembered how the brat used to insist she kiss him every day and seemed to take untold pleasure from explaining to her how she was ever doing it wrong.
Josef didn’t even know her name. His stomach churned. Why are old men ever trying to wed me to their daughters? “It is I,” he bowed again so as not to meet her eyes.
“Well? Tjuya well? What are you waiting for? Come forward,” Pentephres was standing now, ushering his daughter towards Josef.
Hesitantly she drew closer, reluctantly submitting to her father’s command. She looked at Josef once more, “But I do not recognise him,” she said with an almost plaintive look to her father.
“Hah! Do you hear that? She does not recognise you! Hah! Well what do you expect, my dear? You haven’t seen him in a decade and a half! What were you three? four? Damn my memory.” He nudged Yuya with his elbow inviting him to laugh and thus join him in his mockery of the girl. Josef did not see the funny side of it, though he managed a cringing smile for the priest’s benefit.
“Five,” she answered curtly.
“Ah yes that’s it, five, and he six! And now you expect him to look identical to then, as if not a day had passed!” he slapped his thigh. “By Horus the vanity of a woman never ceases to amaze me!”
Growing weary of his mockery she flushed. “But Yuya was short and,” she sought for a nice way to say it, “... and stout, and his hair was brown, not black.”
Josef, beginning to panic interrupted her, his voice contained an air of confidence that he was far from feeling. “My time on the frontier has changed me from the boy you once knew, into a man. I’ve become tall with age and my hair has darkened over the years.”
She was not convinced and kept her distance. “Remember the cat we once had?” she said, “Remember the mischief she got us into? What was her name again?”
Josef eyed the exit. If he made a dash for it now he might yet escape. “I ... I confess I cannot remember a cat.” It was over, his mind was in meltdown. She knows me for a fraud, run Josef run! “It ... it was so long ago, I can remember naught but your smile.”
Pentephres laughed once more before moving to his daughter’s side. “Ah the old romantic remembers your smile! Put away your claws, Tjuya, we all know you never had a cat! You sneeze at the very sight of them! How can you expect a man to remember a cat that never was! Come now enough of this nonsense, another word from you and I’ll be forgetting your age and bend you over my knee. Embrace him now as you should have when I first told you his name.” He placed a hand on the small of her back and thrust her towards Josef with rough gentleness.
Tjuya offered Josef a shallow curtsy before contorting her lips into an unconvincing smile. As her father had demanded she embraced him, apparently believing his explanations of time and years. It was an awkward embrace, as one would expect, but she was still smiling when they drew back. But as she looked into those blue fires the smile evaporated. She drew back rather abruptly. Josef felt a bead of sweat about his forehead.
“That’s better!” Pentephres laughed again, swinging his arm around Josef’s shoulder and leading him away from her. “You’ll have to forgive her, it seems the wit of the father is lacking in the daughter.”
Josef did not agree. The daughter, he concluded, had a far more generous allotment of wit than the father. He glanced over his shoulder. Tjuya was still staring after him and all the while exchanging hushed secrets with her bodyslave. Perhaps this was not such a good start after all.
VI
“You Habiru, follow me to the slave quarters.”
Shiri didn’t move, she’d sworn she’d answer
to no Gypto and it would take more than some old priest to break that oath. The priest stared at her, waiting impatiently for her to comply before finally he made to grab her. She darted backwards, easily avoiding him. Solon looked up from his broth. “I’d not waste your breath, priest. Her master has said she is to answer to nobody but him, he’s like a dog with a bone that one.”
“She’ll answer to my whip!”
“Nay, nay, that neither, he won’t have anyone touch her, why my learned friend here even offered to find payment between her legs, but our lordling wouldn’t hear of it,” he paused, taking a noisy slurp from his broth before resuming, “No, I wouldn’t like to be the man that crossed him over this. He seems to have a strange attachment to her.”
“Attachment to her arse,” Akil added with a smirk.
The priest nodded as if understanding that Yuya might not want his bedslave marked. “Even so she must at least follow the orders of her betters when it comes to trivial matters such as this.”
“Such as what?” Shiri interrupted.
The priest stared at her open-mouthed, for a moment he seemed unable to do anything but gawp. “By the ... by all that’s holy, does it … does it interrupt me?” He grabbed his whip and lashed it in her direction. He missed his mark by a wide margin. “Hold your tongue while men are talking!” He raised the strap of leather again but this time hesitated, remembering Solon’s words. He looked back to the bowyer who seemed rather amused by the whole affair. “Well, by the light of Ra I never saw the like of it! The impudent little ... she ... she waltzes into the temple, refuses to do what she’s told and then interrupts a conversation amongst her betters! Has she been broken into her bonds at all? Or does she style herself our equal just because her master thinks her a decent mount?”
Solon laughed. “Aye, she has an impudent manner alright, but young master Yuya seems to like her that way.”
“He ... what? He seems to like it that way?” Hapu shook his head in disbelief. “Well, he’ll be hearing from me about that.” He stared at Shiri aggressively as if to emphasize the point. She returned his glare, insolently cocking her head with an obviously feigned look of fear. Hapu saw her mockery but pretended he didn’t. Stifling his anger he looked from one to the other. “Well, is it going to go to its quarters or not?”
Shiri saw Josef approaching and without seeking permission darted away from them and went to greet him. She could hear the old priest blustering as she left them behind. Her prince looked disconsolate, “What’s the matter, Josef?”
“Sssh! Damn it, Shiri, you know not to use that name here.” It was the first time he’d spoken to her harshly and she looked a little taken aback. “I ... I’m sorry,” she looked away. I keep messing up.
He shook his head. “Oh, I’m the one that should be sorry, Shiri.” He rubbed his still aching scalp. “Have they shown you your quarters?”
“It’s an ongoing issue.”
“Well, you can tell them I’ll have none of that for you, you’ll be staying with me. The high priest has offered me the use of a house at the rear of the temple, for official business and the like.”
Shiri beamed back at him, his harsh words forgotten. She’d been beginning to think she’d have to sleep in one of the shacks they had passed on the way into the city. They were hardly fitting for animals let alone people. “You had better look like you’re cross with me, master.” She said staring at her feet.
“What? Why’s that?”
“The temple, and … and my refusal to obey orders.”
“Oh, aye, the temple,” he’d forgotten. “And what orders?”
“To hold my tongue when men are talking,” she said dryly.
They reached the small congregation and Hapu was ready for them. “Lord Yuya,” he said with a nod of his head. “This creature of yours speaks unbidden and refuses to go to the slave quarters. She’s in serious need of discipline; I’ll be expecting to see some stripes on her tomorrow.”
“You can expect them all you want,” Josef retorted, more confident now in his role and fed up with tiptoeing around these people. “But you won’t be seeing them.”
The priest looked confused. He glanced at Shiri as if she were some sort of witch with an evil hold over the man. “What? You mean to say you’re going to let her get away with this kind of behaviour? With blasphemy and lack of discipline and ... and …” the priest paused for a moment, “And downright rudeness!”
“Rudeness?” Josef said, “‘Tis a strange form of rudeness that sees a slave stalwartly obeying her master’s commands.”
“Her master’s commands?” Hapu looked more bewildered than ever.
“I told her to wait here until I said otherwise, what’s more, I told her not to be alone in the company of any man but me, she is mine alone and not obliged to obey the orders of anyone else.”
“Bah! Only women have slaves like that, bodyslaves, forbidden to men.”
Josef sighed, placing a hand on the old priest’s shoulder. “‘Tis a long time since you’ve left the confines of Heliopolis, old friend, times are changing. There’s not a man in the royal courts of Thebes without such a bodyslave. Why the high lords of Karnack have three a piece, are we so much less than they?”
Akil and Solon exchanged glances, trying to think of another slave that would refuse such simple commands as ‘go to your quarters.’
The priest nodded his head in reluctant deference. “Aye, well, mayhap it’s been a while, but I don’t like it. A slave’s a slave.”
“And this one is mine and I’ll hear no more about it,” Josef paused, “And if ever I find she’s been marked or ill treated without my leave…” His eyes hovered over the old man leaving the rest unsaid, before abruptly turning to head for his new accommodation. Shiri stuck her tongue out at the priest before running after her master.
She beamed at Josef as they entered the villa. It was snuggled in the shadows of the Sun Temple’s high walls. At almost half the size of Pentephres’s mansion, the villa was really quite massive. She’d never before seen the like of it. There was a little fire damage about the northern wall, and it had clearly not been lived in for years. Dust and cobwebs were everywhere, but other than that, time had not been unkind to the place. She gasped as she saw the courtyard, her awe bringing a smile to Josef’s face, a smile which for the first time since arriving in Heliopolis was genuine.
“Which room will be mine?” she asked excitedly as she ran from one room to the next.
“Whichever one you want” he replied. “All of them if you wish. You’re the master when we’re alone, remember?” A radiant look enveloped her face. It reminded Josef of a welcome burst of sunshine on an otherwise cloudy day.
“I want this one,” she said resolutely, standing at the door of the southernmost room. It opened out onto a pillared cloister with impressive views of the expansive gardens. They were neglected and overgrown with weeds and tall grasses. Her eyes settled on a great weeping willow that frowned over a small pool that looked like it might be stagnant.
“I’ve been thinking on how best to keep you safe,” he said as she hurried off to the other rooms ensuring she had made the correct decision. “We can say you’re my housekeeper, and these gardens have gone untended for too long.”
“And I’ll do my part to help you protect our people,” she said as she scampered past him. “Amenhotep’s slave caravans will be arriving any day now.”
A brief pause, he couldn’t think of anything she could do to help. “Aye … of course … Solon has the seeds of many herbs and medicines amongst his baggage. Perhaps if you were to aid him in the gardens and a few other tasks I have in mind for him, it would keep you away from the fields.”
Shiri came to a halt beside him. “Yes, I can do that too, Solon took my part against the priest. I think I like him.”
“I reckon he likes you too,” he winked at her.
Her smile faded just a little and she looked at him curiously. “Pity nobody else does.”She reddened. I c
an’t believe I just said that. She fisted him in the shoulder to make light of it and ran into the courtyard. He gave chase. She evaded him, giggling as she darted between the trees. He cornered her under the giant willow. Its branches reached almost to the ground and they found themselves hidden under a great canopy that speckled the light and seemed to cut off the smells and sounds of the outside world. She tried to run past him, but the effort was half hearted. He caught her and held her in his arms as she wriggled weakly against him. He’s very strong. Quickly she conceded defeat and pouted. “What would you have me do now, master?”
He’s laughing, smiling, staring at me. She could feel the warmth of his body hard against hers and for a moment she imagined she felt something else pressing insistently against her tummy. She sensed her pulse quicken. Without thinking, she closed her eyes and leaned in, brushing her lips against his. Instantly she felt him grow tense and all at once the moment was lost.
He drew back. He was looking at her, shaking his head. Stupid why am I so stupid? She felt her cheeks turning a hundred shades of crimson and suddenly she was wishing she was anywhere but here. So, so, stupid, a stupid ugly shepherd girl and him a … he was talking. “Shiri, I have to tell you something…”
“I’m sorry!” She blurted, pushing him away. “I didn’t mean it.” Her eyes were watering, she didn’t want him to see that, she tried to run for real this time but he held her. Why won’t he just let me go? Haven’t I embarrassed myself enough? “Let me go! Let me go!”
Still he held her. “Shiri,” he was looking into her eyes. “We ... need to talk ... I … I need time to think.”
She stopped struggling and heard herself speak, her voice sounded strange and distant. “You either know your heart or you don’t, time will not change it,” his words. She must know, she realised, she must know one way or another. She couldn’t take this guessing and dreaming anymore. If he felt even half of what she did, it would be enough.
She searched for his hand. She took it and tentatively brought it to her waist. “I know mine,” she said softly. She looked into his eyes, breathed deep, and then slowly, gently guided it up to her chest, wide, moist eyes not leaving his as she did so. She couldn’t be any clearer. She was giving him her heart. She felt her whole body tingle as she got her answer. He did not resist. He wants this too. A wordless sound, disbelief, joy or something else escaped her half open lips, her heart pounded like thunder. She moved closer, pressing her body against his, kissing him again, longer this time. Let it be true, let him want me too. She felt his mouth open as his tongue attempted to slide between her lips. She drew back, a little surprised. She looked at him, “Josef? ... your tongue it...” her voice was ragged and breathy.
