Read Seer of Egypt for Free Online

outside his door pass and repass twice more before drowsiness overcame him.
    Tetiankh woke him at dawn as he had requested, tidied the room as he ate, then accompanied him to the bathhouse, where hot water steamed. Huy stood on the bathing slab to be washed and then lay on the bench just outside, hidden from the rest of the garden by a wall and many shrubs, to be shaved, plucked, and oiled. By the time he sought out Ishat on the grass at the front of the house, there was an orderly queue of petitioners waiting quietly, their eyes flicking from the two soldiers who watched them to the empty stool with Ishat cross-legged beside it.
    She smiled at him as he took the stool. True to her word, she was wearing the silver circlet. Its ankhs trembled against her forehead as she picked up her burnisher and began to apply it vigorously to the sheet of papyrus on her palette. “There was a large crowd outside the gate this morning,” she told Huy. “Anhur was ready for them. He counted in ten of them and sent the rest away. Kar is most relieved.” Laying down the scraper, she ran a hand over the smooth surface of the papyrus, uncapped the ink, and selected a brush. “Merenra has gone into the town to send our invitations and to find more servants,” she went on. “He will also go to the straw pits and order bricks for the new cells. Are you ready to work?”
    Huy nodded. No plants would be trampled today. No disgruntled Seshemnefer would have to clean up human feces from behind the grain silo. Each person would be escorted back to the gate by a guard when Huy had finished caring for his or her need. Ishat whispered the scribes’ prayer to Thoth as Huy beckoned the first patient forward and took her hand. The day’s labour had begun.
    By the middle of the afternoon, the courtyard was empty. Huy wiped the sweat from his neck with the linen Tetiankh had stood ready to offer him, and Ishat rose from the grass, flexing her shoulders and yawning. “We will have to take the litter into the town tomorrow,” she remarked. “The list of those too ill to come here is growing. I must eat and then lie on my couch for a while, Huy, and there is no sign of Merenra yet. I hope he’s having some success.” She kissed him briefly on the cheek and hurried into the shade cast by the entrance pillars.
    Huy left the stool more slowly. Any swift movement would increase the pounding in his head. He debated whether or not to order poppy from Tetiankh, who had retired a short distance and was waiting for his summons, but decided to try to see if the usual hour of sleep everyone took in the heat of the afternoon would calm the pain. He was about to follow Ishat into the house when he saw Anhur approaching through the glare of full sunlight. He waited, eyes screwed half shut and beginning to water, and when Anhur came up to him, he took the man’s arm and drew him into the coolness of the portico. At once Tetiankh brought in the stool. Huy sank onto it.
    “You look terrible, young Huy,” Anhur said, bending to peer into Huy’s face. “Are you sick? Is there a physician in your house?”
    “Besides me and the god?” Huy managed with a grin. “It’s just a headache, Anhur. The visions seem to leave it behind, like dross from the refining of metal. I heard you in the house last night. How are your men today? Will they be content here?”
    Anhur squatted in front of him. “They will. They like being close enough to the river to swim when they are not on duty. So do I. Now that your peasants have gone home, I’ve relieved the two guards, placed only one at the gate and one at the rear of the house, and told the rest they are free to sleep or gamble. What about the bricks? I’m anxious to begin building something permanent for them as soon as possible, before the Inundation comes and the nights grow cool.”
    They talked for a while, then Huy said, “It must have been wonderful to be in the palace when the Prince was born. What has he been