House of Dreams

by Pauline Gedge

  Gradually it came to me, with a sadness I had never felt before, that my cherished vision of Pharaoh’s beautiful son had been an illusion. His apparent kindness was a sham, a ploy to ensure his own comfort. Every smile, every act of selflessness, increased his value in the eyes of the court and served to swell his popularity. I did not doubt that his mystery, his reputation for remoteness and the solitary pursuits that took him, alone, onto the desert and into the Nile in the dark hours, was a carefully calculated act to remove him from an association with any one faction in the minds of those circling the arena of power in Egypt. Above it all he could be seen as full of new possibilities, a fledgling god of honesty and lofty impartiality who could only compare favourably with his useless brothers.

  But he was as ambitious, as venal and greedy, as any. He wanted Godhead. He wanted the divinity the Double Crown would bestow, and all the authority that accompanied it. He was jealous of his father also. Whether he loved the King or not was unclear, but he had not been able to hide his lust to appropriate all that belonged to the elder Ramses, and that included me. I should have been flattered but I was not.

  It also came to me, like a savage blow from a friend I had trusted, that the Prince only wanted to use me. It was not I, Thu, being invited to aid in Egypt’s salvation, it was the concubine who held Pharaoh in the palm of her painted hand and who could thus be fitted into the Prince’s larger schemes and then forgotten.

  They all want to use me, I thought miserably. Hui, the Prince, even Pharaoh himself. There is no one who truly cares for my welfare. Pa-ari has grown away from me. Disenk may hold some affection for me but she would give the same loyalty to whoever employed her. Only my land will not betray my care. No matter what, it will receive me with love.

  I could no longer ignore the sickness curdling up into my throat. Sitting on the edge of the couch I folded my arms tight against my breast and began to rock to and fro. Hopelessly, grimly, I tried to cling to my exploration of the Prince’s character but it was impossible. A more disturbing reality was intruding, and at last I could not hold it back. “Oh gods,” I whispered. “Oh, please, no,” and the sound went scuttering and scrabbling around the room like claws on rock, like the malicious voice of my dream. My doom had fallen. I knew that I was pregnant.

  Then I let the anger come. It was a guard, a defence against the anguish of a great defeat. Rising, I paced the floor and cursed Hui who had brought me to this place, cursed Pharaoh who would now abandon me, cursed the gods of the Fayum whom I had offended and who had taken this pitiless revenge on me. My words hissed out like venom, and still I could not exhaust the well of poison burning my tongue and scoring my heart.

  I did not come to myself until I felt a touch on my arm. Disenk stood anxiously beside me, wrapped in a sheet, and I realized that I could see her clearly in the strengthening light. “Thu, whatever is the matter?” she asked. I came to a halt, chest heaving, fists clenched. Very well, I thought. Very well. I can fight this. I can still win.

  “Disenk, bring me my physic box,” I ordered. She opened her mouth to speak again but closed it when she saw my expression, and went into the other room. I sat in my chair and waited. Presently she laid the box on my lap.

  “I will bring you food?” she said, but I shook my head.

  “No. Leave me.”

  When I was alone I lifted the lid and began to go through my medicaments. I was looking for my phial of savin oil but I could not find it. Frowning, I emptied the box, setting out on the table each container. The savin oil had gone. I paused, thinking. It was a dangerous drug, too dangerous to prescribe in any but the tiniest doses, and I was sure that my box had held a good supply. Where was it? I had not broken the seal on it since my arrival in the harem, for aiding in the abortion of a royal child was the gravest of offences. Had I taken it out to make room for something else? Given it back to Hui? In my agitation I could not remember doing either.

  Then what of the physic nut? I shook the clay pot holding the deadly things. They were usually ground up and mixed with palm oil to kill rats in the granaries but the seeds of the small tree made an efficient purge. Too efficient. Their potency was uncertain and the same dose could either empty the patient or kill her. Kill me. Quickly I tossed the phials and jars back into the box and slammed the lid shut. “Disenk!” She came running, still obviously bewildered, but she had put on her sheath and combed her hair. “I am going to Hui’s house,” I told her. “I will go on foot. I do not want guards or litter bearers to gossip about my movements today and you must keep this a secret. If I am summoned, tell the messenger I am drunk or in the bath house or visiting the other women—anything. I don’t care what you say, but do not let it be known that I have left the harem. Lend me one of your sheaths and your plain sandals. Get me a basket I can carry, and that thick linen cloak of yours with a hood that you wear sometimes when the nights are cool. I know we are now at the beginning of Shemu but no one will notice, I think. Hurry up!” She stared at me, her eyes round.

  “Thu, tell me what is wrong,” she begged. I considered, then relented. She was my body servant. She would know sooner or later anyway, particularly if my efforts to rid myself of my fatal burden proved useless.

  “I am pregnant,” I said shortly, and turned away so that I could not see her expression. “Bring me the things I have asked for.”

  While I waited for her a thought struck me, and leaning against the table I began to giggle and then to laugh hysterically. The month of Pakhons had begun. It was three months to my Naming Day. In three months I would be all of sixteen years old.

  An hour later, wrapped in a cloak and clad in a servant’s sturdy sheath, my feet laced in Disenk’s unadorned sandals, I answered the desultory challenge of the guards on the harem gate and set off along the river road. The rush basket on my arm held my box of medicines covered by a cloth. The sun had now risen fully and the morning was already breathlessly hot. I had not walked any distance for a long time, and soon my ankles and calves were aching in spite of the regular exercises I did. The path was busy with the traffic of servants, hawkers and donkeys who kicked the dust into a fine pall that had me coughing as they elbowed past.

  The distance to Hui’s house was not great by water, but on foot it seemed to take an eternity of heat, grit and noise. Blisters formed and broke on the sides of my feet where Disenk’s ill-fitting sandals rubbed, but at least the discomfort served to take my mind off the enormity of my trouble and I reflected grimly, as yet another donkey loaded with produce forced me to step aside, that I probably would not last a week in Aswat, so soft had I become.

  But finally Hui’s pylon came into sight. Before walking under it I descended his white watersteps, and sitting in the shade of his tethered barge I sank my feet, sandals and all, into the river. The bliss of such coolness was indescribable and for a while I gazed out upon the sparkling water, the palms on the opposite bank tossing in the breeze, the skiffs breaking the surface into foam as they glided past, with a lightening heart. But the mood fled. I rose and entered Hui’s domain.

  The porter beside the pylon challenged me. I could not have avoided him, but he seemed completely disinterested in my strange appearance and let me go on with a curt bow. The garden was deserted, imbued with the heavy, pleasant silence that always blanketed the Master’s estate, and so was the courtyard as I broke through the trees and opened the gate, treading the hot, blinding pavement and pausing between the imposing pillars.

  No one was there, and I could see right to the end of the long passage. The rear door was open onto sunny greenery. The tiled floor gleamed. Removing Disenk’s smothering cloak and her caked, dusty sandals I brushed off my feet and walked resolutely straight to Hui’s office. The door was closed but I could hear his voice within, the steady drone of a dictation. Love and a strange kind of grief welled up in me as once more I wanted to crawl onto his knee like a child and curl against his warm chest. I knocked and the voice rose irritably.

  “Enter!” I did so.
Hui was behind the desk with Ani on the floor at his side, palette under his hand. At the sight of me he scrambled up and bowed. Hui rose. “Thu! Gods, I hardly recognized you! Whatever has gone wrong?” I moved forward and sank into a chair.

  “Hui, Ani,” I acknowledged them wearily. “I am very thirsty. Is there any beer?” At a nod from Hui the scribe bowed again, smiled at me uncertainly, and went out. Hui crossed to a jug on one of the shelves, poured for me, and handed me a cup. I drank gratefully. “I have walked from the harem,” I said, wiping my mouth and setting the empty cup on the desk. “No one but Disenk knows that I am here and I cannot stay long. I need your help, Hui. I am pregnant.”

  There was a long silence. Hui, in the act of regaining his seat, paused. All expression gradually left his white face until only the wide, red eyes seemed alive. Then he lowered himself fully into the chair.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  There was another uncomfortable hesitation during which he made a pyramid with his slim fingers and rubbed them thoughtfully against his chin. I found myself near to tears as I waited for his reaction. Oh, Hui, be kind, I begged him mutely. Commiserate with me, come around the desk and hold me, tell me that you will make everything all right because you love me! But those carefully manicured fingers continued their slow movement and he went on staring at me dispassionately. At last he sighed and his hands flew apart in a gesture of bafflement.

  “I had such high hopes of you, Thu,” he said flatly. “I am very disappointed. How could you let this happen?” I swallowed, crushed at his words.

  “I did my best to prevent it, Master,” I replied. “I did not forget to use the acacia spikes. But the gods of the Fayum are powerful and in my fear I slighted them. What precautions can stand against such might?”

  “What are you babbling about?” he cut in sharply. “You were careless, that is all. Now you must take the consequences.” His tone was cold, and I felt an anger rise with the misery in me.

  “I am not at fault,” I said hotly. “Do you think I wanted to put my position at court in jeopardy? I do not need your recriminations, Hui, I need your assistance. Help me!”

  “And how am I supposed to do that?” His formality, his aloofness, cut me to the quick.

  “Pretend that I am your patient,” I said. “I opened my box this morning, Hui, looking for the savin oil. I could not find it. If you will not prescribe to rid me of this baby, at least give me more oil!”

  “You returned the savin to me unused some time ago,” he retorted in the same vein. “It seems you are making a mess of your life, Thu. No, I will not give you more oil.” I sprang to my feet.

  “Hui! You are serious? For the sake of the gods, give me the oil or treat me with something else! I will not have this baby! I would rather die!” He was around the desk in a flash, his strong hands gripping my shoulders, his face thrust close to mine. His eyes blazed.

  “You stupid child!” he spat. “Savin oil is a poison! You know that! The amount needed to abort the child would probably kill you! You say you would rather die anyway but those are just foolish words!” I wrenched myself free and slapped the desk furiously.

  “Why are you being so cruel? If I have no savin I will try something else. Extract of oleander! Physic seeds! Castor oil! Anything! I will not lose all I have gained just because you are afraid!” We faced each other furiously, both panting, then he pushed me back into the chair and squatted beside me. He took my hands. I tried to pull them free but his grip tightened.

  “Listen to me, foolish one,” he said more calmly. “I am indeed afraid. Afraid to prescribe for you in case my physic kills you. Afraid that in your own fear you inadvertently kill yourself. You must not behave impulsively, Thu. How do you imagine I would feel if Egypt was no longer bright with your presence? Stand back from the situation and think.”

  “I have been thinking,” I replied sulkily. “What difference will it make whether I make an effort to salvage my future now and die in the attempt, or fall from Pharaoh’s favour and die gradually year by year until I am removed to the ghastly harem in the Fayum?” My voice shook. “Hui, tell me what to do!” He began to stroke my hair, and as always, his touch was like a soothing oil sliding over my skin. The tenseness began to flow out of me.

  “Do nothing,” he said quietly. “Just because Ramses has lost interest in his concubines before when they have born him a child does not mean that he will lose interest in you. How many times must I tell you that no one like you has ever entered the harem before? Only Ast-Amasareth comes close to exerting the influence over him that you do. A different influence, I know, but just as powerful in its way. Have faith in your ability to weather this storm, my Thu. It is indeed an upheaval but it need not be disastrous.” I leaned my head against him and closed my eyes.

  “I do not want this baby, Hui,” I whispered. “But I will do as you say. You are probably right. Ramses loves me, and the gods know that I really do not want to die. When my time comes, will you be with me to deliver the child?” His hand went on moving reassuringly over my skull.

  “Of course I will,” he said. “I do love you, my recalcitrant little concubine. Now tell me how it feels to own a piece of Egypt. I hear from Adiroma that your land is very fertile and will make you rich in time. And what was that nonsense about the gods of the Fayum?” So, relaxed against him, I began to speak of Pharaoh’s gift and my disgrace before Herishef and Sebek, and when I had finished he kissed me gently and sent for food which we shared in an amicable silence. Then he escorted me to the door and kissed me again.

  “Keep me informed of your physical progress,” he admonished. “I am always here when you need me, Thu. And leave the poisons alone! Promise me!” I promised, but as I walked back to the harem in the stupefying heat I felt my despair return. Whatever happened, nothing would ever be the same again and I wished that I had not given Hui my word. I did not think that it would be easy to hold on to the King’s affections with a child tugging at my sheath. And deep down in my ka I knew that Hui could have helped me if he had wished.

  I was able to re-enter my quarters without detection. Although the courtyard was now alive with women and children no one gave me a second look, wrapped in the cloak and soiled as I was. As I crossed the threshold, drained and footsore, and placed the basket on the floor, Disenk hurried out of the bedchamber to meet me. I sank into a chair and she thrust a scroll into my hands. “This came for you a short while ago,” she said. “It was delivered by a royal Herald I had never seen before. It carries the Prince’s imprint, Thu!” My fingers made dirty smudges on the pristine papyrus as I cracked the wax seal, and my aches were forgotten. Rapidly I scanned the contents.

  “In the event of my accession to the Horus Throne I, Prince Ramses, Commander of the Infantry of Pharaoh and eldest son of the Protector of Egypt, promise to raise the Lady Thu, concubine, to the rank of Queen of Egypt, with all the privileges and rights attending such an exalted position. Signed by my own hand this second day of the month of Pakhons in the season Shemu, year sixteen of the King.” Sure enough, the Prince’s signature was scrawled across the bottom of the scroll, together with the witnesses I had asked for, Nanai, Overseer of the Sakht and priest of Set, and Pentu, Scribe of the Double House of Life.

  I let the scroll roll up and lifted it to my breast. So soon! Only last night I had made my impudent demand and already it had been met! The speed, the inferred ruthlessness of the Prince’s decision, almost took my breath away. “Disenk,” I said, my voice shaking, “bring me wax and fire.” She did so, and when I had resealed the precious letter I pressed one of my rings into the soft wax. “This is my guarantee of a queen’s crown,” I told her. “Hide it. I suppose it is too difficult to lift the tiles and place it under the floor. You had better sew it into one of the cushions. Do it today, but please wash me and rub salve into my feet first. They are very tender.” Her meticulously plucked eyebrows had almost disappeared into the short, dark fringe of her hair and she took
the scroll gingerly, her whole body a question.

  For a moment I debated whether or not to keep her in ignorance, then decided that such secrecy would be fruitless. She already knew of my condition. In fact, Disenk knew all about me. So I spoke of my unnerving encounter with the Prince and how I had fared with Hui. When I had finished she turned to me, the scroll in one hand.

  “The Master is right, Lady,” she said. “Why take the chance of ending your life so soon, when the results of your pregnancy are far from being sure? Such an act would be madness. And now you have the Prince’s assurance. In the unlikely event of Pharaoh’s rejection, the Prince will still elevate you.”

  “You forget that if I am rejected by the father I cannot plead the cause of the son,” I reminded her drily. She shrugged delicately.

  “It is a strong possibility that the Prince will seize power in any case upon his father’s death,” she pointed out. “He is after all the Commander of the Infantry, with complete authority over the majority of soldiers in the army. Of course he would rather achieve his aims peacefully, but he seems determined to see the Double Crown placed on his head however it may be done. You will be a queen in either event, Thu.”

  “But Disenk, the King is still only forty-seven years old,” I murmured. “Suppose that he lives as long as Osiris Ramses the Second Glorified? I could be in my dotage before a queen’s crown is placed on my grey head.” Disenk shot me an odd look.

  “Perhaps,” she said softly, “but perhaps not. Heed the Master’s advice, Thu. Do nothing foolish.”

  She left me then, to fetch water and oils, and I slumped back in my chair. The fact of the King’s age had not occurred to me before, but now I considered the dismal possibility I had posed to my servant. I was indeed an idiot. Even if I remained in favour, even if my lover received my petition on behalf of his son and designated him Heir, I would still have to wait until Pharaoh died to become a queen.