House of Illusions (26 page)

“I will enquire if she will see you,” he said, and went away. Again I waited, looking about at the colourful profusion of statuary dotting Nesiamun’s vast gardens, and as my eyes travelled the sun drenched arouras, I caught a glimpse of soldiers moving far towards the rear wall where the servants’ quarters sprawled. So Paiis was chatting with his friend while his guard searched the estate. Such effrontery took my breath away. I glanced in the porter’s direction but he had gone back into his lodge. Despair mingled with relief as I strained to catch another sight of the armed men. What would the servants tell the Steward about this intrusion? What had the officer in charge said? That they were searching for a criminal? Paiis would not care what was or was not said. His confidence knew no check. I turned as a shadow fell across me. “The Lady Takhuru will see you,” the servant said. “Follow me.”

He led me through the ground floor of the house to a small room at the rear whose wide window gave out onto the garden. “The scribe Kaha,” he said, and bowing he left, closing the door behind him.

She was sitting in an ebony chair facing the window, both beringed hands grasping the armrests, her gold-shod feet placed decorously side by side on a low footstool. A plain white sheath of what was clearly the finest grade of linen fell from her narrow shoulders and frothed about her calves. A gold band encircled her forehead, holding a tightly woven net of gold thread which imprisoned her luxuriant hair. She was fresh and lovely, yet as I performed my deep obeisance, my own arms outstretched, I saw how pale she was under the expertly applied kohl and the orange henna on her mouth. There was tension in those long, soft fingers as they grasped the lions’ heads on which they lay, and she swallowed before she spoke. “Chief Scribe Kaha,” she said huskily, “I gather that you are here to ask me yet more questions regarding the fate of my betrothed. I have already told his body servant, Setau, all I know. I am sorry.” I straightened and looked her over carefully. She was clenching her jaw. The muscles along it were flexing, and her attention was not on me. It was on the garden. I was right, I thought in a wave of exultation. She knows.

“Thank you for seeing me, my Lady,” I said. “I am aware that the General Paiis is with your father, and soldiers are searching your estate. Is Kamen safe?” Her gaze shot to me.

“What do you mean?” Those elegant fingers were inside the golden lions’ mouths now, running back and forth over the sharp carved teeth. “How would I know whether Kamen is safe or not? I pray for him night and morning. Worry is robbing me of sleep.”

“I worry also,” I said, “but my concern is that he should not be found by the men out there. I think you share my fear.” Still she would not give in, though I could see that she was close to panic. Beads of sweat sprang out along her upper lip and a vein in her tall neck began to pulse.

“I do not wish to speak with you further, Kaha,” she said with as much haughtiness as she could muster. “Please go.”

“My Lady,” I pressed. “I did not come here today with the General. I do not desire Kamen’s death, nor his mother’s, but Paiis does. I am here to warn them. You do know where they are, don’t you?” She slumped, very slightly, leaning back in the chair.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” she said stiffly, “but if you think Kamen is in danger and wish to continue, I will listen.” My heart went out to her, but I repressed the smile that came to my lips. She was still as flighty as a cornered gazelle. I had already come too far to back away now.

With a last flutter of apprehension I began my story. If I had not read her aright I was putting my head into Paiis’s noose, but I was a scribe, trained to interpret more than just the words spoken around me, and I had not been wrong about Takhuru. At my first words her eyes went wide and then did not leave my face.

It took a long time. I spoke of life in Hui’s house, of Thu as a young girl hungry for knowledge, greedy for recognition, desperate to transcend her peasant roots. I spoke of her training as a physician and of the darker education that ran like a subterranean river through all our dealings with her. I told of her introduction to Pharaoh and her removal to the harem, a living instrument of destruction wielded by Hui’s hand. Calmly I described how Thu had borne a son and fallen out of favour, and how she had come to Hui in despair and Hui had given her arsenic which she mixed with massage oil and gave to Ramses’ current favourite, Hentmira, and how Hentmira had died but Pharaoh had recovered to sentence Thu to death after his son had investigated the crime. The sentence was commuted to exile.

Takhuru listened without interruption until that point. Then she raised a hand. “Let me understand this, Kaha,” she said in a low voice. “You say you lived in the Seer’s house and taught Thu. Moreover you were yourself privy to the plot against Ramses. When Thu was arrested, you could have given evidence that would have saved her and you did not. Why have you come to me now?” I admired her self-possession. She was determined to give nothing away. Yet though her hands were now folded in her lap, one foot was creeping to cover the other, a betrayal of her consternation.

I knew her suspicion, knew her resolve to keep Kamen safe at any cost, but time was passing and I could do nothing without her co-operation. I came close to her and touched her shoulder. “I have paid lip service to love,” I said. “Love is a word I threw about when I was younger. Love for Egypt, love of Ma’at, love for the sacred hieroglyphs given to us by Thoth, love for Thu’s intelligence and perception. But Lady Takhuru, when those loves were put to the test, I ran away. Love for myself superseded everything else. I did not know until last night that I have been carrying shame with me.”

“What happened last night?”

“I went to the Seer’s house and met with him and the General and the Lady Hunro. There it was decided to kill Thu and Kamen before they could plead Thu’s case to Pharaoh. Nothing has changed for them. They are as rapacious and callous as ever. But I have grown to love Kamen since I entered the service of his father, and Thu was like a sister to me. I cannot let them die. I must redeem my former cowardice.”

“The General has moved swiftly,” she commented, and the wariness had gone out of her voice.

“Yes. And he is not a stupid man. He has deduced that the only place Thu and Kamen can be is right here. If he does not find them openly today, he will send assassins in the night to slip onto your estate and search in secret. You cannot hide them for much longer.”

“He has tried before. In Aswat.”

“Yes. He will not give up.”

She stared at me speculatively for a while, biting her lip, then she slid off the chair. “I have read Thu’s account of her life,” she said at last. “You corroborate what I already know. Come with me.”

She led me back along the passage, across the entrance hall, and up the stairs at the rear. There was another passage, and then she was pushing open large double doors. At her brusque word I closed them behind me and found myself in her private quarters. Her body servant bowed and Takhuru gave her leave to go. Once more the doors opened and closed.

Walking to the far wall, Takhuru pulled open another door. Beyond was a small room containing chests and shelves on which were piled various wigs, scrolls, jewellery and folded linens. At the back I saw narrow stairs leading up into darkness. “Like everyone else, I sleep on the roof in the summer,” Takhuru said. “Thu has been staying in the servants’ quarters. It was fortunate that she was here with me this morning when Paiis arrived. Father summoned me to answer some of his questions. He wanted to know if any new servants had been hired within the last few days. I am afraid that although I told him no, the Steward has said yes out of innocence. Kamen was also here. He has been going about the city during the day and creeping past the porter at night.” She laughed suddenly, and colour bloomed on her face. “To tell you the truth, Kaha, I have never before had so much fun. They are both quite safe here you know. My quarters are forbidden to all unless I give them leave to enter.”

“I do not think so,” I replied. “Any good assassin could scale the wall, come down those stairs, and slay with ease.” The smile left her mouth. Leaning into the little room she called, “Please come out, Kamen.”

There was the sound of scrambling footsteps and then Kamen appeared, stepping out of the dimness into the full light flooding from Takhuru’s window. When he saw me, he came to an abrupt halt. His body tensed for action. His gaze swivelled to the double doors. But I hardly noticed him. A woman had emerged from behind him, dressed in the yellow sheath of the servants of the house. For a moment I did not recognize her. My memory of another Thu, the perfect oval of her smooth, painted face lifted to mine, fought with the reality of this darkly tanned body with its coarse, untended hands and corded feet, its finely lined face and wiry hair. But the glittering blue eyes were the same, clear and compelling, and the bare mouth was still softly sensuous. My throat went dry. “Thu,” I whispered.

She strode to me and slapped my face with all the force she could muster. “Kaha,” she ground out. “I would have known you anywhere, you and the others. Your faces have haunted my nights and bedevilled my days for the last seventeen years. I trusted you! You were my beloved teacher, my friend! But you lied and deserted me and I hate you, and I want to see you dead!” The pent-up passion of those lost years came pouring out in a deluge of fierce recrimination. Her eyes burned. Her body shook. Kamen put an arm around her but she shrugged him off. “I will see you suffer,” she cried. “I want you to know what it is like to find yourself friendless, condemned, robbed of everything!” My own eyes were watering from the force of the blow and my cheek was stinging.

“I am sorry, Thu,” I said. “Truly, deeply sorry.”

“Sorry?” she flashed back. “Sorry? Will sorry give me back the years? Will sorry show me how my son grew? Damn you, little scribe. Damn all of you!” She started to weep, and her tears were more shocking than her rage. Then she came to me and laid her head against my chest. My arms went round her. “I loved you, Kaha,” she sobbed. “I believed everything you told me. You were my brother in that sober household and I trusted you.”

There was nothing I could say. The others stood frozen while she struggled to regain control of herself, her tears warm on my skin, and before long the storm was over. Moving out of my embrace, she wiped her face on a corner of her sheath and gave me a level glance from beneath swollen lids. She took Kamen’s hand. “Well,” she said. “I presume that you have come here with Paiis to take me away. You can try, but I will fight you. I have nothing to lose any more.”

Kamen was watching me very carefully and I noticed that he was wearing a leather belt from which hung a short military sword. His other hand rested on its hilt. “No, Kamen,” I said. “I have not come to help Paiis arrest you. He would not need me for that. I am here to warn you that, as you have probably suspected, you are both marked for death. You cannot stay here. The General has already eliminated every other possible hiding place and he is left with the logical choice. He may not find you today, but sooner or later he will send men here to search for you secretly. The Lady Takhuru is now also in danger. She knows too much.”

“I had not thought of that,” Kamen frowned. “How foolish of me. Then it does not matter where my mother and I go. But surely if Paiis does not find us here he will not suspect Takhuru?”

“Yes he will,” the girl put in. “He must conclude that you have at least opened your heart to me about everything and he will want to make sure I am not left to talk to anyone else.” She did not seem in the least perturbed, and I could not decide whether her composure came from a blithe recklessness or a lack of appreciation for her true position. I presumed the latter. Takhuru had suffered no hurt or check in her whole pampered life, and I did not think she could even begin to imagine any real threat.

“The city police are hunting you also,” I told them. “Pa-Bast called them in this morning, Kamen. He is frantic over your disappearance, particularly as your family is due home from the Fayum tomorrow night.” I could see the swift conjectures flitting through his mind.

“It might be a good idea to let them find us,” he said slowly. “If we fell into the hands of the police, we would at least be safe from the General.”

“Not necessarily,” Thu broke in. Her voice was now steady. The glance she gave me was cool. “The city prisons are very public and the police have always been closely allied to the army. It would be child’s play for Paiis to arrange an accident for us there. I suppose that by now it has been discovered that I have left Aswat and am therefore liable for prosecution. I wonder if Ramses will be notified?”

“I doubt it,” I said. “Unless there is new evidence that would compel the reopening of your case, you would simply be rearrested, probably whipped, and returned to Aswat without Pharaoh ever knowing.” Thu let go of Kamen’s hand.

“You could have my case reopened, Kaha,” she said. “You could provide the evidence you should have given on my behalf. I gave the King all your names and he said that he would remember them even though the only evidence at the time was my word.” She grimaced. “The word of an attempted murderess. If you truly want to help me, take me into the presence of Pharaoh and speak for me!”

I had always believed that something similar had happened. That was why I had left Hui, and I had been right to do so, even though we had all peacefully prospered in the intervening years.

Takhuru had turned to her table. Now she poured wine and offered it to each of us, then she sat on the edge of the couch. Kamen joined her. But Thu continued to stand facing me, her wine untasted in her hand, her whole stance a challenge. I could have drained the cup in one gulp. I was thirsty with tension. “It would not be enough,” I said. “It would be the word of a scribe against the reputations of three of the most powerful men in Egypt and a noble lady of ancient and honourable lineage. There is no evidence that may be held in the hand, Thu.”

“Paibekamun had it,” she said bitterly. “He was supposed to throw it away but he kept it and handed it over to the Prince. Still, that pot was evidence against, not for me. The gods know I was guilty, but guilty of a lesser crime. The corruption of a young girl was surely the greater evil.” She shrugged. “But it does no good to brood. You are right, Kaha. Perhaps I can mete out my own justice. Kill them all myself, one by one.” Then she laughed, and the Thu I had known was back. “Will you at least try to put my manuscript into Pharaoh’s hands?”