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II
‘Renisenb, I want to talk to you about Satipy.’
‘Yes, Yahmose?’
Renisenb looked up sympathetically into her brother’s gentle, worried
face.
Yahmose said slowly and heavily: ‘There is something very wrong the
matter with Satipy. I cannot understand it.’
Renisenb shook her head sadly. She was at a loss to find anything com-
forting to say.
‘I have noticed this change in her for some time,’ went on Yahmose. ‘She
starts and trembles at any unaccustomed noise. She does not eat well. She
creeps about as though–as though she were afraid of her own shadow.
You must have noticed it, Renisenb?’
‘Yes, indeed, we have all noticed it.’
‘I have asked her if she is ill–if I should send for a physician–but she
says there is nothing–that she is perfectly well.’
‘I know.’
‘So you have asked her that too? And she has said nothing to you–noth-
ing at all?’
He laid stress on the words. Renisenb sympathized with his anxiety, but
she could say nothing to help.
‘She insists that she is quite well.’
Yahmose murmured. ‘She does not sleep well at night–she cries out in
her sleep. Is she– could she have some sorrow that we know nothing
about?’
Renisenb shook her head.
‘I do not see how that is possible. There is nothing wrong with the chil-
dren. Nothing has happened here –except, of course, Nofret’s death–and
Satipy would hardly grieve for that,’ she added drily.
Yahmose smiled faintly.
‘No, indeed. Quite the contrary. Besides, this has been coming on for
some time. It began, I think, before Nofret’s death.’
His tone was a little uncertain and Renisenb looked at him quickly. Yah-
mose said with mild persistence:
‘Before Nofret’s death, don’t you think so?’
‘I did not notice it until afterwards,’ said Renisenb, slowly.
‘And she has said nothing to you–you are sure?’
Renisenb shook her head. ‘But you know, Yahmose, I do not think Satipy
is ill. It seems to me more that she is–afraid.’
‘Afraid?’ exclaimed Yahmose, in great astonishment. ‘But why should
Satipy be afraid? And of what? Satipy has always had the courage of a
lion.’
‘I know,’ said Renisenb, helplessly. ‘We have always thought so– but
people change–it is queer.’
‘Does Kait know anything–do you think? Has Satipy spoken to her?’
‘She would be more likely to talk to her than to me–but I do not think so.
In fact, I am sure of it.’
‘What does Kait think?’
‘Kait? Kait never thinks about anything.’
All Kait had done, Renisenb was reflecting, was to take advantage of
Satipy’s unusual meekness by grabbing for herself and her children the
finest of the newly woven linen–a thing she would never have been al-
lowed to do had Satipy been her usual self. The house would have resoun-
ded with passionate disputings! The fact that Satipy had given it up with
hardly a murmur had impressed Renisenb more than anything else that
could have happened.
‘Have you spoken to Esa?’ Renisenb asked. ‘Our grandmother is wise
about women and their ways.’
‘Esa,’ said Yahmose with some slight annoyance, ‘merely bids me be
thankful for the change. She says it is too much to hope that Satipy will
continue to be so sweetly reasonable.’
Renisenb said with some slight hesitation, ‘Have you asked Henet?’
‘Henet?’ Yahmose frowned. ‘No, indeed. I would not speak of such
things to Henet. She takes far too much upon herself as it is. My father
spoils her.’
‘Oh, I know that. She is very tiresome. But all the same–well–’ Renisenb
hesitated–‘Henet usually knows things.’
Yahmose said slowly: ‘Would you ask her, Renisenb? And tell me what
she says?’
‘If you like.’
Renisenb put her query at a moment when she had Henet to herself.
They were on their way to the weaving sheds. Rather to her surprise the
question seemed to make Henet uneasy. There was none of her usual
avidity to gossip.
She touched an amulet she was wearing and glanced over her shoulder.
‘It’s nothing to do with me, I’m sure…It’s not for me to notice whether
any one’s themselves or not. I mind my own business. If there’s trouble I
don’t want to be mixed up in it.’
‘Trouble? What kind of trouble?’
Henet gave her a quick, sideways glance.
‘None, I hope. None that need concern us, anyway. You and I, Renisenb,
we’ve nothing to reproach ourselves with. That’s a great consolation to
me.’
‘Do you mean that Satipy–what do you mean?’
‘I don’t mean anything at all, Renisenb–and please don’t start making
out that I do. I’m little better than a servant in this house, and it’s not my
business to give my opinion about things that are nothing to do with me. If
you ask me, it’s a change for the better, and if it stops at that, well, we’ll all
do nicely. Now, please, Renisenb, I’ve got to see that they’re marking the
date properly on the linen. So careless as they are, these women, always
talking and laughing and neglecting their work.’
Unsatisfied, Renisenb watched her dart away into the weaving shed. She
herself walked slowly back to the house. Her entry into Satipy’s room was
unheard, and Satipy sprang round with a cry as Renisenb touched her
shoulder.
‘Oh you startled me, I thought–’
‘Satipy,’ said Renisenb. ‘What is the matter? Won’t you tell me? Yahmose
is worried about you and–’
Satipy’s fingers flew to her lips. She said, stammering nervously, her
eyes wide and frightened: ‘Yahmose? What–what did he say?’
‘He is anxious. You have been calling out in your sleep–’
‘Renisenb!’ Satipy caught her by the arm. ‘Did I say–What did I say?’
Her eyes seemed dilated with terror.
‘Does Yahmose think–what did he tell you?’
‘We both think that you are ill–or–or unhappy.’
‘Unhappy?’ Satipy repeated the word under her breath with a peculiar
intonation.
‘Are you unhappy, Satipy?’
‘Perhaps…I don’t know. It is not that.’
‘No. You’re frightened, aren’t you?’
Satipy stared at her with a sudden hostility.
‘Why should you say that? Why should I be frightened? What is there to
frighten me?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Renisenb. ‘But it’s true, isn’t it?’
With an effort Satipy recovered her old arrogant pose. She tossed her
head.
‘I’m not afraid of anything– of anyone! How dare you suggest such a
thing to me, Renisenb? And I won’t have you talking me over with Yah-
mose. Yahmose and I understand each other.’ She paused and then said
sharply, ‘Nofret is dead–and a good riddance. That’s what I say. And you
can tell anyone who asks you that that’s what I feel about it.’
‘Nofret?’ Renisenb uttered the name questioningly.
Satipy flew into a passion that made her seem quite like her old self.
‘Nofret– Nofret– Nofret! I’m sick of the sound of that name. We don’t
need to hear it any more in this house–and thank goodness for that.’
Her voice, which had been raised to its old shrill pitch, dropped sud-
denly as Yahmose entered. He said, with unusual sternness:
‘Be quiet, Satipy. If my father heard you, there would be fresh trouble.
How can you behave so foolishly?’
If Yahmose’s stern and displeased tone was unusual, so too was Satipy’s
meek collapse. She murmured: ‘I am sorry, Yahmose…I did not think.’
‘Well, be more careful in future! You and Kait made most of the trouble
before. You women have no sense!’
Satipy murmured again: ‘I am sorry…’
Yahmose went out, his shoulders squared, and his walk far more resol-
ute than usual as though the fact of having asserted his authority for once
had done him good.
Renisenb went slowly along to old Esa’s room. Her grandmother, she
felt, might have some helpful counsel.
Esa, however, who was eating grapes with a good deal of relish, refused
to take the matter seriously.
‘Satipy? Satipy? Why all this fuss about Satipy? Do you all like being bul-
lied and ordered about by her that you make such a to do because she be-
haves herself properly for once?’
She spat out the pips of the grape and remarked:
‘In any case, it’s too good to last–unless Yahmose can keep it up.’
‘Yahmose?’
‘Yes. I hoped Yahmose had come to his senses at last and given his wife a
good beating. It’s what she needs–and she’s the kind of woman who would
probably enjoy it. Yahmose, with his meek, cringing ways, must have been
a great trial to her.’
‘Yahmose is a dear,’ cried Renisenb, indignantly. ‘He is kind to every-
body–and as gentle as a woman–if women are gentle,’ she added, doubt-
fully.
Esa cackled.
‘A good afterthought, granddaughter. No, there’s nothing gentle about
women–or if there is, Isis help them! And there are few women who care
for a kind, gentle husband. They’d sooner have a handsome, blustering
brute like Sobek–he’s the one to take a girl’s fancy. Or a smart young fel-
low like Kameni–hey, Renisenb? The flies in the courtyard don’t settle on
him for long! He’s got a pretty taste in love songs, too. Eh? Hee, hee, hee.’
Renisenb felt her cheeks going red.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said with dignity.
‘You all think old Esa doesn’t know what’s going on! I know all right.’
She peered at Renisenb with her semi-blind eyes. ‘I know, perhaps, before
you do, child. Don’t be angry. It’s the way of life, Renisenb. Khay was a
good brother to you–but he sails his boat now in the Field of Offerings. The
sister will find a new brother who spears his fish in our own River–not
that Kameni would be much good. A reed pen and a papyrus roll are his
fancy. A personable young man, though–with a pretty taste in songs. But
for all that I’m not sure he’s the man for you. We don’t know much about
him–he’s a Northerner. Imhotep approves of him–but then I’ve always
thought Imhotep was a fool. Anyone can get round him by flattery. Look at
Henet!’
‘You are quite wrong,’ said Renisenb with dignity.
‘Very well, then, I’m wrong. You father is not a fool.’
‘I didn’t mean that. I meant–’
‘I know what you meant, child.’ Esa grinned. ‘But you don’t know the
real joke. You don’t know how good it is to sit at ease like I do, and to be
done with all this business of brothers and sisters, and loving and hating.
To eat a well-cooked fat quail or a reed bird, and then a cake with honey,
and some well-cooked leeks and celery and wash it down with wine from
Syria–and have never a care in the world. And look on at all the turmoil
and heartaches and know that none of that can affect you any more. To
see your son make a fool of himself over a handsome girl, and to see her
set the whole place by the ears–it made me laugh, I can tell you! In a way,
you know, I liked that girl! She had the devil in her all right–the way she
touched them all on the raw. Sobek like a pricked bladder–Ipy made to
look a child–Yahmose shamed as a bullied husband. It’s like the way you
see your face in a pool of water–she made them see just how they looked
to the world at large. But why did she hate you, Renisenb? Answer me
that.’
‘Did she hate me?’ Renisenb spoke doubtfully. ‘I– tried once to be
friends.’
‘And she’d have none of it? She hated you all right, Renisenb.’
Esa paused and then asked sharply:
‘Would it be because of Kameni?’
The colour rose in Renisenb’s face: ‘Kameni? I do not know what you
mean.’
Esa thoughtfully: ‘She and Kameni both came from the North, but it was
you Kameni watched across the courtyard.’
Renisenb said abruptly:
‘I must go and see to Teti.’
Esa’s shrill, amused cackle followed her. Her cheeks hot, Renisenb sped
across the courtyard towards the lake.
Kameni called to her from the porch:
‘I have made a new song, Renisenb. Stay and hear it.’
She shook her head and hurried on. Her heart was beating angrily. Ka-
meni and Nofret. Nofret and Kameni. Why let old Esa, with her malicious
love of mischief, put these ideas into her head? And why should she care?
Anyway what did it matter? She cared nothing for Kameni, nothing at
all. An impertinent young man with a laughing voice and shoulders that
reminded her of Khay.
Khay…Khay.
She repeated his name insistently–but for once no image came before
her eyes. Khay was in another world. He was in the Field of Offerings…
On the porch Kameni was singing softly:
‘I will say to Ptah: Give me my sister tonight…’
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