House of Illusions by Pauline Gedge Read Free Book Online

dissention, the totem of the city of Pi-Ramses to be sure but doubtless with followers as far away as miserable Aswat. Oh forget about it, I told myself as I left my room, went back down the stairs, and turned abruptly right at their foot, entering the warm humidity of the bath house. You’re home, Takhuru is waiting, you can get drunk with Akhebset, and in two days you will be back at your post with General Paiis. Deal with it later.
    The hot water I had ordered was already steaming in two large urns and my servant Setau greeted me as I stepped up onto the bathing slab. While I scrubbed myself vigorously with natron and he deluged me with the scented water, he asked me about my journey and I answered him readily enough, watching the grubby film of my weeks away go sluicing through the drain in the sloping stone floor. When I was clean, I went outside and lay on the bench just within the thin shade of the house so that Setau could oil and massage me. The hottest hours of the day had begun. Beyond the shallow terrace the trees barely moved and the birds were silent. Even the continual low rumble of the city outside the wall was subdued. As my servant’s capable hands kneaded the knots from my muscles, everything in me began to relax and I yawned. “Never mind my feet, Setau,” I said. “At least they are clean. When you have finished pounding me, bring beer to my room, and please have a message sent to Takhuru. Tell her I’ll come to see her at sunset.”
    Back in my own quarters I lowered the reed mats covering my windows, drained the beer Setau had promptly brought, and fell onto my couch with a groan of pure satisfaction. The little statue of Wepwawet gazed at me serenely from his post on my bedside table, his elegant nose seeming to quest the air and his tall ears pricked to receive my words as I drowsily saluted him. “Your temple is small but pretty,” I told him. “However, your devotees at Aswat are strange indeed, Wepwawet. I devoutly hope I do not have to encounter them again.”
    I slept deeply and dreamlessly, and woke to Setau’s movements as he raised the mats and placed a tray at my feet. “I did not want to wake you, Kamen,” he said as I stretched and sat up, “but Ra is sinking and the evening meal is already over. Your father has been to the Seer’s house and returned. He instructed me to let you rest but doubtless the Lady Takhuru is even now pacing her garden in expectation of your presence and I did not think you would want to incur her displeasure.” I smiled at him slowly and reached for the tray.
    “That is all too easy to do,” I replied. “Thanks, Setau. Find me a clean kilt will you, but don’t bother to get out my best sandals. If you’ve mended the others, they will do. I want to walk to the Noble’s house. I need the exercise.” The tray was heavy with milk and beer, a small loaf of clove-scented barley bread, steaming lentil soup and a bed of dark lettuce on whose quivering crisp leaves sat a square of yellow goat cheese, a piece of grilled duck and a scattering of raw peas. “Oh gods,” I breathed. “It’s good to be home.”
    While I devoured the food with an alacrity which would have earned me a stern rebuke from my old nurse, Setau moved about the room, opening my chests. I saw him hesitate when his glance fell on the box and he lifted it enquiringly. “This will crush your starched linens,” he said. “May I place it elsewhere?” He was too well trained to ask me what it contained and I resisted the urge to increase his curiosity by trying to explain it away.
    “Put it on the bottom of the chest, then,” I suggested carelessly. “It’s not something I need to deal with immediately.” He nodded and did so, then went on laying out my gold-bordered kilt and tasselled belt, my plain gold bracelet and the earring set with beads of jasper. When I was ready, he painted my eyes with black kohl and helped me to dress. I left him to tidy everything away and went