who brought a large basket. According to custom this could not be opened until we were back in our own apartments, so we bowed and kissed her sandal and were going away with a lot to think about, when the Queen Tiye said to my mother, ‘I will send a scribe to your daughter Mutnodjme, Lady, if it please you. I think that she should be literate.’
‘She can write and read as much as any princess,’ said Tey, displeased at this slur on our household.
‘I think she should be able to do more than that,’ said the Queen, and now there was no doubt that it was a command. ‘I will send a scribe tomorrow for the lady Mutnodjme, and a companion. She is a stranger here, and I think that she will be a friend to another stranger.’
‘I and my family are in the Queen’s hand,’ replied Tey conventionally.
The plump woman shifted in her chair, cradling her burden. ‘Yes, you are,’ she agreed. ‘So do not beat your little questioner, Great Royal Nurse Tey. It is never wise to beat children for exhibiting intelligence.’
‘As the Queen says,’ responded my mother through gritted teeth.
I walked behind her out of the Royal Bedchamber, thinking hard. A companion? I had been torn away from my friends when we had moved into the palace, and there were few children of my own age in the marble halls of Amenhotep may he live. And although I could read and write at least as well as my sister, my father had not considered that women needed much education, and had recalled his scribe to his other duties after we had mastered letters and numbers in the ordinary script enough to keep our household accounts, and understand recipes and prayers.
Father’s scribe had been the old man Ani, a stern greyish man in a linen cloth with ink stains on his clever fingers. He had kept his eyes averted from us. I expected that a Royal Scribe would be sterner and older, and hoped that he would not hit me and my new companion if we made mistakes, as Ani had.
Running to keep up with my mother as she walked briskly down the corridor of tribute bearers, I did not ask questions. I had escaped one beating by divine favour, and I did not want to press my luck.
And the problem of the impotence of the Son of Egypt had not been addressed. Instant compliance, as recommended by the Queen, would not make an impotent King potent.
It never occurred to me that it was not my problem. I was intent on a solution. I could only think of one, and had already dismissed it as impossible.
When we were back in our own quarters, my mother not only did not beat me, but gave me a quick, fierce hug. My face was pushed into her breast and my cheek dented by her elaborate pectoral. I was eye to eye with a vulture, but Tey hugged me so seldom that I was resolved to enjoy it.
‘Little questioner,’ she held me out at arm’s length and smiled at me. ‘Tey’s true daughter! Always one to ask the question that is on every tongue and to which no one dares to give voice…I wonder what will become of you?’
‘Will you marry me to an old man who will beat me?’ I asked slyly, and Tey laughed again and replied, trying to look stern, ‘It might at least curb your inquisitiveness. You did well, daughter. For now we know, and otherwise she might not have told us.’
‘About Akhnamen may he live,’ I said.
‘About him, yes. I had not heard about his… temper, ’Nodjme, had you?’
‘No, Lady,’ I replied honestly. ‘They say that he is vague and gentle and lazy, that he sleeps a lot, that he is impulsive and pays no attention to right conduct or precedence. No one said that he is cruel, not where I heard them, or that he has tantrums.’
‘Hush! That should not be said, daughter, not outside our home. Nefertiti, are you determined to stay with your husband?’
‘Yes, Lady,’ said my sister.
‘Even though he may be dangerous?’
‘He will not be dangerous to me,’ said Nefertiti.
I had heard that tone before. Just so had she spoken before she had knelt down before a mastiff,
‘She can write and read as much as any princess,’ said Tey, displeased at this slur on our household.
‘I think she should be able to do more than that,’ said the Queen, and now there was no doubt that it was a command. ‘I will send a scribe tomorrow for the lady Mutnodjme, and a companion. She is a stranger here, and I think that she will be a friend to another stranger.’
‘I and my family are in the Queen’s hand,’ replied Tey conventionally.
The plump woman shifted in her chair, cradling her burden. ‘Yes, you are,’ she agreed. ‘So do not beat your little questioner, Great Royal Nurse Tey. It is never wise to beat children for exhibiting intelligence.’
‘As the Queen says,’ responded my mother through gritted teeth.
I walked behind her out of the Royal Bedchamber, thinking hard. A companion? I had been torn away from my friends when we had moved into the palace, and there were few children of my own age in the marble halls of Amenhotep may he live. And although I could read and write at least as well as my sister, my father had not considered that women needed much education, and had recalled his scribe to his other duties after we had mastered letters and numbers in the ordinary script enough to keep our household accounts, and understand recipes and prayers.
Father’s scribe had been the old man Ani, a stern greyish man in a linen cloth with ink stains on his clever fingers. He had kept his eyes averted from us. I expected that a Royal Scribe would be sterner and older, and hoped that he would not hit me and my new companion if we made mistakes, as Ani had.
Running to keep up with my mother as she walked briskly down the corridor of tribute bearers, I did not ask questions. I had escaped one beating by divine favour, and I did not want to press my luck.
And the problem of the impotence of the Son of Egypt had not been addressed. Instant compliance, as recommended by the Queen, would not make an impotent King potent.
It never occurred to me that it was not my problem. I was intent on a solution. I could only think of one, and had already dismissed it as impossible.
When we were back in our own quarters, my mother not only did not beat me, but gave me a quick, fierce hug. My face was pushed into her breast and my cheek dented by her elaborate pectoral. I was eye to eye with a vulture, but Tey hugged me so seldom that I was resolved to enjoy it.
‘Little questioner,’ she held me out at arm’s length and smiled at me. ‘Tey’s true daughter! Always one to ask the question that is on every tongue and to which no one dares to give voice…I wonder what will become of you?’
‘Will you marry me to an old man who will beat me?’ I asked slyly, and Tey laughed again and replied, trying to look stern, ‘It might at least curb your inquisitiveness. You did well, daughter. For now we know, and otherwise she might not have told us.’
‘About Akhnamen may he live,’ I said.
‘About him, yes. I had not heard about his… temper, ’Nodjme, had you?’
‘No, Lady,’ I replied honestly. ‘They say that he is vague and gentle and lazy, that he sleeps a lot, that he is impulsive and pays no attention to right conduct or precedence. No one said that he is cruel, not where I heard them, or that he has tantrums.’
‘Hush! That should not be said, daughter, not outside our home. Nefertiti, are you determined to stay with your husband?’
‘Yes, Lady,’ said my sister.
‘Even though he may be dangerous?’
‘He will not be dangerous to me,’ said Nefertiti.
I had heard that tone before. Just so had she spoken before she had knelt down before a mastiff,
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