fastidious way her fingers found and grasped a cone, the way she would occasionally smooth her sheath as though afraid that I might see further than her knees, the way she pursed her mouth and frowned before making a move. “Takhuru,” I said, “do you ever dance?” She looked across at me, startled, her features dim in the twilight.
“Dance, Kamen? What do you mean? That is not my vocation.”
“I do not mean in the temple,” I replied. “I know you are not trained for that. I mean dance for yourself, in the garden perhaps or before your window, or even under the moon, just for joy or perhaps in rage.” She stared at me blankly for a moment and then burst out laughing.
“Gods, Kamen, of course not! What a strange thought! Why would anyone indulge in such undisciplined behaviour? Look out. I am about to put you into the water. An unlucky omen for tomorrow!”
Why indeed?, I thought ruefully as she pushed my spool into the square denoting the dark waters of the Underworld and glanced up to laugh at me again. The move signalled an end to the game although I struggled for a propitious throw that would deliver me, and soon she swept the pieces into their box, closed the lid, and rose.
“Be careful tomorrow,” she warned me half-seriously as she took my hand and we wandered towards the stairs. “The sennet is a magical game and you lost this evening. Will you come into the house now?” I bent and kissed her full on the lips, briefly tasting the cinnamon and the sweet, healthy tang of her, and she responded, but then she pulled away, always she pulled away, and I let her go.
“I can’t,” I said. “I must meet with Akhebset and find out what has been happening in the barracks while I have been away.”
“You must indulge in a night of carousing you mean,” she grumbled. “Well, send and tell me when we can go and look at the chairs. Good night, Kamen.” Her attempts to control me, often unspoken, could be tiring. I bid her sleep well, watched that spear-straight back move from dimness into the sallow light of the lamps already lit within the house, and then turned to walk through the shadowed gardens. For some reason I felt not only tired but drained. I had done my duty by calling on her, placating her, apologizing for something I would not even have bothered to mention if she had been my sister or a friend, and I looked forward with far more eagerness to a night in the beer house with Akhebset and my other comrades. I would not have to explain myself to them, nor to the women who served beer and food or who inhabited the brothels where we sometimes met the dawn.
I had reached the river and here I paused, gazing down at the specks of starlight disfigured in the water’s slow swell. What is the matter with you? I asked myself sternly. She is beautiful and chaste, her blood is pure, you have known her and been happy in her company for years. Why this sudden shrinking? A tremor of air stirred the leaves above me and for a moment a shaft of new moonlight lit the reeds at my feet. Quelling the spurt of panic it caused me, I turned and walked on.
3
I SPENT THE REMAINING one day of my leave nursing a sore head, dictating the most interesting letter I could conjure to my mother and sisters in the Fayum, and swimming in a vain attempt to rid my body of the admittedly enjoyable poisons I had fed it. I sent a message to Takhuru, arranging to meet her at the woodworker’s home after my first watch for the General. I dined in the evening with my father and later made sure that Setau had cleaned and laid out my kit in preparation for the morning. I was due to relieve the officer on the General’s door at dawn and I had intended to take to my couch early, but three hours after sunset I was still tossing restlessly under my sheet while the last dregs of oil in my lamp burned away and Wepwawet, although he stared straight out into the flickering shadows of my room, seemed to be eyeing me with speculation and a
“Dance, Kamen? What do you mean? That is not my vocation.”
“I do not mean in the temple,” I replied. “I know you are not trained for that. I mean dance for yourself, in the garden perhaps or before your window, or even under the moon, just for joy or perhaps in rage.” She stared at me blankly for a moment and then burst out laughing.
“Gods, Kamen, of course not! What a strange thought! Why would anyone indulge in such undisciplined behaviour? Look out. I am about to put you into the water. An unlucky omen for tomorrow!”
Why indeed?, I thought ruefully as she pushed my spool into the square denoting the dark waters of the Underworld and glanced up to laugh at me again. The move signalled an end to the game although I struggled for a propitious throw that would deliver me, and soon she swept the pieces into their box, closed the lid, and rose.
“Be careful tomorrow,” she warned me half-seriously as she took my hand and we wandered towards the stairs. “The sennet is a magical game and you lost this evening. Will you come into the house now?” I bent and kissed her full on the lips, briefly tasting the cinnamon and the sweet, healthy tang of her, and she responded, but then she pulled away, always she pulled away, and I let her go.
“I can’t,” I said. “I must meet with Akhebset and find out what has been happening in the barracks while I have been away.”
“You must indulge in a night of carousing you mean,” she grumbled. “Well, send and tell me when we can go and look at the chairs. Good night, Kamen.” Her attempts to control me, often unspoken, could be tiring. I bid her sleep well, watched that spear-straight back move from dimness into the sallow light of the lamps already lit within the house, and then turned to walk through the shadowed gardens. For some reason I felt not only tired but drained. I had done my duty by calling on her, placating her, apologizing for something I would not even have bothered to mention if she had been my sister or a friend, and I looked forward with far more eagerness to a night in the beer house with Akhebset and my other comrades. I would not have to explain myself to them, nor to the women who served beer and food or who inhabited the brothels where we sometimes met the dawn.
I had reached the river and here I paused, gazing down at the specks of starlight disfigured in the water’s slow swell. What is the matter with you? I asked myself sternly. She is beautiful and chaste, her blood is pure, you have known her and been happy in her company for years. Why this sudden shrinking? A tremor of air stirred the leaves above me and for a moment a shaft of new moonlight lit the reeds at my feet. Quelling the spurt of panic it caused me, I turned and walked on.
3
I SPENT THE REMAINING one day of my leave nursing a sore head, dictating the most interesting letter I could conjure to my mother and sisters in the Fayum, and swimming in a vain attempt to rid my body of the admittedly enjoyable poisons I had fed it. I sent a message to Takhuru, arranging to meet her at the woodworker’s home after my first watch for the General. I dined in the evening with my father and later made sure that Setau had cleaned and laid out my kit in preparation for the morning. I was due to relieve the officer on the General’s door at dawn and I had intended to take to my couch early, but three hours after sunset I was still tossing restlessly under my sheet while the last dregs of oil in my lamp burned away and Wepwawet, although he stared straight out into the flickering shadows of my room, seemed to be eyeing me with speculation and a
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