Serapion took two staggering steps backwards and shook his head, blood spraying from a bleeding nose. His eyes blazed with anger and with a roar he threw himself forward. He half-turned and kicked viciously at Nikolas’ groin, but with a quick change of stance by Nikolas the blow struck the thigh instead of its intended target.
Serapion followed with three swinging punches to the head; Nikolas swayed out of the way of the first two, but the third struck a glancing blow off his jaw. The crowd continued to hiss its disapproval of Serapion’s blatant disregard for the rules, as he seemingly sought to make the event a boxing match rather than a test of wrestling strength. The crowd threw pieces of fruit and waste at him.
Also throwing the rules to the wind, Nikolas dodged left, scooped a handful of sand and flung it at Serapion’s eyes causing him to stagger backwards, temporarily blinded. Nikolas then stood on his good right leg, swung his left leg in a high, hard roundhouse kick that landed solidly on Serapion’s chest. Nikolas was sure that he heard several ribs crack but in berserk fury Serapion, after momentarily swaying backward, again charged forward. Remembering why he was fighting – not to continue to punish Serapion but to prevent him from injuring others – Nikolas stepped swiftly sideways. He then swayed and kicked hard at the side of Serapion’s left knee, hyper-extending the knee and snapping the ligaments. Serapion dropped like a felled tree, screaming in pain and rolling into a foetal shape grasping his injured leg. Nikolas placed his foot on Serapion’s neck in the traditional sign of victory.
Serapion’s leg wasn’t broken but it would be months before he could walk without a stick and he’d never be free of a limp. He had forever lost the speed that had given him his previous fighting prowess.
Nikolas limped to the sidelines as the crowd shouted its approval. He squatted on his haunches, breathing heavily. Kiya wiped sweat, blood and dirt away with a wet cloth, smiling contentedly. Lorentis stood berating him like a fishwife. “You idiot! You may have been killed. What would have become of our journey then? Can’t you think clearly for a change…” and on… and on… and on…’Anybody would think she really is my wife, the way she nags,’ mused Nikolas, as he gingerly stretched and flexed his back.
“Oh, shut the hell up, wife, or I’ll put you over my knee for a spanking here and now!” he finally snapped. Lorentis paused in mid-tirade and seemingly pondered for a moment whether to takethe risk he was serious, before turning and haughtily stalking away.
Pamose walked up, hefting a couple of purses. He threw one to Nikolas. “Your payment from Hunnifer. I must say he’s not a happy man. Not only has he had to refund your travel payment, but his money-winner won’t walk for weeks and can’t even work on the boat. When I left he was threatening to feed Serapion to the crocodiles.” He punched Nikolas lightly on the shoulder in congratulation. “You are a man of surprises!”
“And the other purse?” asked Nikolas.
“Well, when you took off your clothes and everybody saw the bandage and the small size of your prick, I got fantastic odds against you winning. Just as well you did, because I didn’t have enough to cover the bets if you’d lost!”
With a tired grin at Pamose’s comments, Nikolas staggered off to the deckhouse on the boat, where for a change both women soaped him down to remove the oil and dirt. As his body reacted and proved Pamose’s comments about physical size wrong, Nikolas sighed that he was too tired and too sore to take advantage of the opportunity presented.
T T T T
Next day was again hot and dry with a strong northerly wind assisting their passage Nikolas, Lorentis and Kiya sat under the shade-awning a little apart from the others, sitting cross-legged on the deck and conversed quietly. Nikolas winced from time to time as he adjusted his position to make his bruises less painful. A large purple bruise with an egg-sized swelling decorated his jaw and made talking difficult.
Nikolas and Lorentis discussed their respective languages and, using scraps of papyrus and pieces of charcoal brought by Nikolas for this purpose, they began to teach each other the basic scripts of their languages. Lorentis showed both the formal and now little-used hieroglyphs and the more modern cursive hieratic script used by the scribes, writing right to left in horizontal lines. Nikolas wrote out the pictograms that made up Mycenaean writing. Kiya watched and was encouraged by the others to participate, learning both her own written language and a foreign language at the same time. Both Nikolas and Lorentis were impressed with the way that Kiya absorbed information like a sponge and showed near perfect recollection. Nikolas had also noticed that this child from the slums was changing quickly, adopting the mannerisms, accent and speech of those formerly her ‘betters’.
Near dusk the boat slowly headed towards the riverbank. This time a larger town stood on a bend in the river, Asyut. Captain Hunnifer advised Nikolas that cargo unloading and loading would take most of the next day and they would be staying for two nights.
Nikolas sent Tutu ashore to find a suitable guesthouse where they could stay in greater comfort than the cramped conditions on the boat.
The others stood idly and watched the unloading start, until a short while later Tutu returned. Subject to approval of the merchant’s wife, who would always be responsible for such decisions, he’d taken four rooms at an inn called the ‘Lion’s Lair’ , near the market. He assured them that despite the name it was a small and quiet establishment with a well-to-do clientele mainly of merchants. Tutu quickly arranged some porters to carry the baggage.
As the streets were now dark they hurried to the inn, the guards surrounding the party and looking at each dim corner with suspicious eyes. Several dark shapes hesitated and then moved away through the shadows when they saw the naked swords in hand.
The quality of the inn was reflected not only in its comfortable interior and rooms but also in the food provided. About a dozen merchants sat in the common-room taking their ease, many having finished their meal. Most were accompanied by women: a few were obviously wives, others obviously not. As well as the ubiquitous fish, the menu included marinated goat’s meat, pork, mutton and several different beers of reasonable standard – although the latter was of the usual Egyptian variety, very thick and made from fermented bread.
After gorging themselves on the excellent repast they retired for the night. All their rooms were located adjacent to each other on the first floor of the inn. Pamose and Tutu were to share one room, the four off-duty guards another. Tutu had arranged for the Master and his wife to ‘share’ a room. The maid had her own room, but with a large sleeping-pallet. The landlord had winked knowingly at Tutu when this had been arranged.
Both Lorentis and Nikolas were much happier with this arrangement, allowing him to slip into the next room unnoticed by the public, but not of course by Ibana the guard taking the first shift.
No doubt each guard would share this morsel of information with the next as the night progressed. All were aware of the mission and the merchant masquerade, but not necessarily of the personal arrangements of their ‘betters’.
T T T T
That night Nikolas felt able to perform much more satisfactorily without a non-participating audience and was much refreshed and relaxed when they met next morning for a late breakfast in the common-room.
Lorentis decided that she would visit the bazaar to buy some of those essential things women can’t live without. Kiya was to accompany her, together with two guards. Nikolas would inspect the commodities market, always of interest to a merchant, taking three guards. “If nothing else, with these guards we can expect to be free of the attentions of thieves,” he quipped to Lorentis before they left.
As the women wandered amongst the stalls in the bazaar, idly inspecting merchandise as they promenaded, Lorentis commented archly to Kiya, “I understand that Nikolas purchased your services shortly before we left Memphis.”
“That is so, Lady. The most fortunate day of my life so far, when he walked into my father’s home and stopped me being dragged off to a dockyard br
othel to pay my father’s debt.”
Lorentis raised her eyebrows. She’d not heard that part of the story.
“Don’t you mind being owned by another person?” she asked.
Kiya turned and faced Lorentis, ignoring the crowd jostling them. “Most women are owned by another person, in one way or another,” she replied. “Whether it is a husband, a father, a noble overlord or an owner, we are all subject to the whims of another. Perhaps in your case it’s your father, or Pharaoh and your princess, and you have better living quarters. In reality there is little difference.”
“But don’t you mind that he takes advantage of you?” said Lorentis, gesturing towards her groin.
“In truth, my lady, I take as much advantage of him as he does of me, and it was I who first approached him in that regard. He is gentle and kind and takes care to see I receive as much pleasure as he does. With him the act is pleasant and comfortable. That has not been my experience most of the times in the past, when I have been taken whether I would or not. It helps him relax and feel well. Of most importance to me is that, as the Master’s woman, no other man in the household will make advances to me and every man in the household will protect me. That’s important. My life for the last few weeks has been much changed. My mother died when I was about six years old. I have memories of her that are happy. She was a beautiful woman, although much worn down by her cares. My father took another woman as wife shortly after her death. She was harsh and vindictive and I praised the gods when she died in childbirth three years ago. My father made me take on all the duties of keeping the house after her death. I was then eleven. As well as doing all the housework I had to help my father and brothers sew together the sacks that he sells. For the smallest infraction, a dirty plate or the floor not swept clean, I was beaten. He used his fists and often a stout stick or whip. And I do mean all the duties of a woman. He took my virginity when I was twelve, when he came home dead drunk and smelling of vomit, raping me on the dirt floor of the sleeping room while my older brothers watched on. My life in recent years has not been a happy one and I had often thought to end it.”
“Nikolas teaches me his healing craft and allows me to run his household without any checking or distrust. He trusts me and my judgment and respects my opinions and decisions. Never before have I been trusted with any money. He gives me a purse and allows me to determine what is needed. His only question is whether I need more money, not what have I done with what I have been given. For the first time I have a place and some certainty. Looking at my current situation I can only say that I’m most content.”
Tears of sympathy ran down Lorentis’ face as she considered the harsh life that Kiya had endured and contrasted it to the pampered and protected life she had led.
They walked slowly though the haberdashery section of the bazaar and each paused to inspect goods. Lorentis chose a leather belt; Kiya selected a linen shawl and at another stall a pair of cheap gem ear-rings, paying from the purse that Nikolas had given her and told her she could spend as she wished. She stopped at a knife vendor, and bought a small and plain but well-balanced fighting-knife in a leather sheath, with buckles for attachment to arm or leg.
“For Nikolas?” asked Lorentis.
“No, for me,” replied Kiya. “I’m tired of being pushed around.”
Lorentis nodded approvingly. Shortly afterwards they spent a long time choosing a very attractive kalasaris dress for Kiya, which Lorentis paid for. Kiya chose an amulet made of faience in the shape of the ‘Horus Eye’, which the vendor promised had powerful symbolic and magical protection. The greenish glass-like object shone in her small hand as she tied a leather thong to make a pendant.
Kiya continued “I suppose I’m content because he treats me like a person, not a thing or an object to be used.”
“As an equal?’
“No, perhaps not as an equal. I’m not that. Not yet. Perhaps in time.”
“Do you love him?”
Kiya sighed. “What is love? Something rich noble ladies feel is needed to direct their lives? I do know this. I would die for him! What more is there to give than life itself?”
Poor Nikolas continued his own separate wanderings in the market with no idea of the impending doom of his bachelorhood.
In the mid-afternoon a sandstorm blew in from the south, the long dirty cloud of its approach obvious in the previously clear blue sky. They all hurried back to the inn, arriving just before the storm broke. The landlord had closed all the windows and doors. Cloths were placed against the bottoms of the doors to prevent sand blowing in. Outside the wind howled and the sand could be heard beating against the walls and doors. Despite the landlord’s attentions a dusty haze filled each room in the inn, sand settling thick on every surface.
Later that evening Tutu sidled up to the table where Nikolas, Lorentis, Pamose and Kiya were sitting. Kiya had presented Nikolas with the faience pendant, which he placed around his neck.
Pamose waved to a serving-wench to bring another pot of beer.
“You know, this disguise idea really isn’t working,” said Tutu morosely. “Our party’s too big to be what we claim and nobody is even going to accept Lorentis is a merchant’s wife. The way she moves, the way she speaks, even the way she holds her head, all scream that she’s of the nobility. And nobody would ever take Pamose to be anything except an army officer. Look at him sitting there; straight back when he should be slouching, and looking around alertly instead of looking at his pot of beer or at the pretty women in the room. Nikolas and Kiya could make a believable merchant and his wife, if he avoids getting into fights. That was a real giveaway! Maybe with a couple of men with them as guards and perhaps one servant. Pamose and the others could travel separately as a cashiered officer and his men going to join a mercenary band. I can’t think of any reason why a young good-looking noblewoman would be travelling on a riverboat at all, much less without at least four female body servants in an entourage at least ten strong.”
“Perhaps I could be heading south to rejoin my husband and the rest of you are my entourage?” suggested Lorentis.
Tutu scowled and shook his head. “You still wouldn’t be travelling on a cockroach-infested tub like Breath of Bubastis. You’d be travelling on a rich man’s personal barge, either your own or one you’d borrowed from a rich friend. And then you’d run into people who want to talk about who your husband is, what he does, where do you live and so on. With nothing to do but talk for days you’d virtually have to pretend to be a mute to avoid saying something to somebody who knows more than you do about the social life of the rich and famous, particularly in the south. Some silly little detail would give you away. You’ll need to give that some more thought if you want to try to travel incognito, particularly if you’re going to be with a group of strangers for days at a time.”
Lorentis went upstairs and returned with pieces of papyrus, brush and ink and resumed her teaching of Nikolas and Kiya. She indicated she wasn’t interested in continuing her learning of Mycenaean script. “You must feel very privileged to be able to live here in Egypt and learn from our store of knowledge,” she commented to Nikolas.
Nikolas pulled a slightly wry face at this parochial comment and tilted his head to one side before replying with a sigh, “Yes, I suppose so. Particularly now you’re teaching me to read what your scribes have written. I think when I return to Memphis that I’ll commission a copy of a medical papyrus that one of the students at the Temple has been explaining to me, so I can refer to it when I wish. There’s much valuable information to be learnt.
“But Egypt is no paradise on earth. Yes, the Nile gives great bounty, but even purely from a medical point of view it also causes great problems for the people who live on its banks. In my own land I don’t have to worry about being eaten by crocodiles if I want to swim in a river, nor suffer from water-borne parasites that will eat away at my internal organs or cause my feet to ulcerate and rot. My people don’t suffer from malaria or many other illnesses. At h
ome, if I put on my sandals there will be no scorpions to sting me. The river gives much, but it also causes problems. And in my land we don’t have to deal with the problems caused by officials and bureaucrats, and taxation is minimal. My people live free of the petty decisions of government officials.”
Lorentis coloured in anger and replied, “I’m not wasting my time in learning the paltry written script of your people, because there’s no benefit in doing so. I’ve learnt to speak your tongue, but my pedagogue made it clear to me that you have no literature that’s worth reading. All you are developing, with your two hundred or so pictogram scribbles, is the ability to draw up lists. Not to write poetry, epic stories or record knowledge for future generations. You have a tradition of verbal tale-telling. How sophisticated is that? What happens if the tale-teller dies without passing on his knowledge? My people have had a written language for two thousand years. The Sumerians, whose script I can also decipher, have had great literature for a thousand years longer. If you read all day every day for the rest of your life, you will not be able to read all the literature that we Egyptians have written. Here anybody with the basic knowledge of reading can have access to thousands of stories and parables that have been written and preserved, and close to one in ten people here can read and write. Yes, they’re mainly the scribes and nobles, but how many can read and write in your land?
Murder in the Palace: A Nikolas of Kydonia Mystery Page 9
