City of Dreams (21 page)

For himself, if Ipuky kept his word, he would own the house he now lived in. An element of security would be back in his life. But Huy did not dare hope that the young pharaoh would pardon him — indeed, as a former servant of the Great Criminal he would do well not to gain too much notoriety.

He washed, aware for the first time of how much of Nebamun’s blood had splashed on to him, and went to lie down on his bed; but he could not rest. He watched the sky through his window as it turned paler, finally resolving itself into the hard, invariable blue of late spring, and he listened to the excited bustle, different in quality from usual, of the city waking up to a day of celebration. He thought of Taheb, and of what they would say to each other when she returned. He thought of Nebamun’s retreat from disappointment and disillusion into madness; of Surere’s hopeless ideals; and of the wretched uncertainty of life.

At last, as the first music struck up in the street, lulled by it, he slept.

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