brother.”
“I am your wife .”
“You said to
do
something about him!”
“Did I say to
bring
him here, then, to our home? No doubt he’ll just get drunk again and
shame us all. Yelling like a rabid baboon into the night for that whore
of a wife he was married to, for everyone to hear.”
Her torrent of
reproach ended in an abrupt yelp. Semerket’s hand had reached out from
the litter to seize her wrist. She gasped at the pain, tears spouting
from her eyes.
Semerket
forced
Merytra slowly down to her knees so that her face was directly across
from his. His voice was low and implacable. “Do you feel this hand,”
Semerket asked, “its strength?”
“Let go of
me,” she
whispered, eyes wide.
“Another word
against
Naia and I’ll snap your neck like a reed.”
She stared
into his
black eyes and knew him to be a man of Set, generating chaos and
disarray—and violence—wherever he went. She could not rule him by her
temper or her quicksilver moods as she could her frightened, malleable
husband.
“Say what you
want
about me,” Semerket continued in the same level tone. “But nothing
about Naia, understand?”
She nodded.
He let go of
her wrist
so suddenly that she fell to the pavement in an ungraceful heap. She
looked from her husband’s face, embarrassed and silent, to her
servants. Keeya had forgotten her torn ear and gaped at her mistress,
sprawled on the courtyard tiles. The head man in the pool stared from
behind the grassy reeds. Suddenly, from all the houses that surrounded
them, a great cheering erupted. Serving women shrilly ululated and men
hooted their approval.
Merytra rose
to her
feet. Refusing to meet anyone’s eyes, she began to walk swiftly into
the house. As she reached the doorway, she broke into a run. From the
courtyard, they heard her muffled wails.
Nenry, after a
moment,
turned to his brother. “You really shouldn’t have done that, Ketty. She
isn’t such a bad woman.”
Semerket
merely closed
his eyes and lay back down in the chair, and so did not see the tiny
smile that played briefly on Nenry’s lips.
IT TOOK SEVERAL DAYSbefore the wine
leached from Semerket’s body sufficiently so he could stand without
dizziness. During that time he slept on a pallet in a storeroom off his
brother’s courtyard. Merytra kept to her room, declaring that she
wouldn’t come out “until that madman is gone from my house.” All in all
it was a happy arrangement for everyone, and the servants whispered
among themselves how they wished their lord’s brother would visit more
often.
But Nenry’s
wife was
forced to break her vow when Lord Mayor Paser came calling, wanting to
pay his respects to the new Clerk of Investigations and Secrets. It was
in the morning and Paser arrived with his usual army of admiring
citizenry. Nenry met him at the gate, bowing low before him, arms
outstretched. Merytra remained in the background, tight-lipped with
fury that Paser had not sent word that he was coming.
“No, no,”
Paser
protested, “I only came to see your brother, and will be gone in a
trice. But if there should happen to be a haunch of beef about…? Some
river fowl might be tasty as well. Fried dates if you’re going to the
trouble, for I am feeling peckish this morning. Nothing fancy, mind
you—please don’t go out of your way.”
With that
Paser strode
into the reception hall, while Nenry’s wife and servants flew about
preparing the light meal for their honored guest. He seated himself on
the biggest chair in the room, and Merytra bit her lip to see its thin
ebony legs creak in protest beneath the mayor’s bulk. Semerket, hastily
clad in Nenry’s best kilt and collar, soon joined the mayor.
“Well, well,
so the
man of the hour is here at last, the one whom we all await. Semerket,
isn’t it?”
Semerket bent
at the
waist, holding out his hands at knee level.
The rotund
Paser
smiled. “Nenry here has bragged of your talents to everyone. We’re
expecting great things from
“I am your wife .”
“You said to
do
something about him!”
“Did I say to
bring
him here, then, to our home? No doubt he’ll just get drunk again and
shame us all. Yelling like a rabid baboon into the night for that whore
of a wife he was married to, for everyone to hear.”
Her torrent of
reproach ended in an abrupt yelp. Semerket’s hand had reached out from
the litter to seize her wrist. She gasped at the pain, tears spouting
from her eyes.
Semerket
forced
Merytra slowly down to her knees so that her face was directly across
from his. His voice was low and implacable. “Do you feel this hand,”
Semerket asked, “its strength?”
“Let go of
me,” she
whispered, eyes wide.
“Another word
against
Naia and I’ll snap your neck like a reed.”
She stared
into his
black eyes and knew him to be a man of Set, generating chaos and
disarray—and violence—wherever he went. She could not rule him by her
temper or her quicksilver moods as she could her frightened, malleable
husband.
“Say what you
want
about me,” Semerket continued in the same level tone. “But nothing
about Naia, understand?”
She nodded.
He let go of
her wrist
so suddenly that she fell to the pavement in an ungraceful heap. She
looked from her husband’s face, embarrassed and silent, to her
servants. Keeya had forgotten her torn ear and gaped at her mistress,
sprawled on the courtyard tiles. The head man in the pool stared from
behind the grassy reeds. Suddenly, from all the houses that surrounded
them, a great cheering erupted. Serving women shrilly ululated and men
hooted their approval.
Merytra rose
to her
feet. Refusing to meet anyone’s eyes, she began to walk swiftly into
the house. As she reached the doorway, she broke into a run. From the
courtyard, they heard her muffled wails.
Nenry, after a
moment,
turned to his brother. “You really shouldn’t have done that, Ketty. She
isn’t such a bad woman.”
Semerket
merely closed
his eyes and lay back down in the chair, and so did not see the tiny
smile that played briefly on Nenry’s lips.
IT TOOK SEVERAL DAYSbefore the wine
leached from Semerket’s body sufficiently so he could stand without
dizziness. During that time he slept on a pallet in a storeroom off his
brother’s courtyard. Merytra kept to her room, declaring that she
wouldn’t come out “until that madman is gone from my house.” All in all
it was a happy arrangement for everyone, and the servants whispered
among themselves how they wished their lord’s brother would visit more
often.
But Nenry’s
wife was
forced to break her vow when Lord Mayor Paser came calling, wanting to
pay his respects to the new Clerk of Investigations and Secrets. It was
in the morning and Paser arrived with his usual army of admiring
citizenry. Nenry met him at the gate, bowing low before him, arms
outstretched. Merytra remained in the background, tight-lipped with
fury that Paser had not sent word that he was coming.
“No, no,”
Paser
protested, “I only came to see your brother, and will be gone in a
trice. But if there should happen to be a haunch of beef about…? Some
river fowl might be tasty as well. Fried dates if you’re going to the
trouble, for I am feeling peckish this morning. Nothing fancy, mind
you—please don’t go out of your way.”
With that
Paser strode
into the reception hall, while Nenry’s wife and servants flew about
preparing the light meal for their honored guest. He seated himself on
the biggest chair in the room, and Merytra bit her lip to see its thin
ebony legs creak in protest beneath the mayor’s bulk. Semerket, hastily
clad in Nenry’s best kilt and collar, soon joined the mayor.
“Well, well,
so the
man of the hour is here at last, the one whom we all await. Semerket,
isn’t it?”
Semerket bent
at the
waist, holding out his hands at knee level.
The rotund
Paser
smiled. “Nenry here has bragged of your talents to everyone. We’re
expecting great things from
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