House of Illusions (7 page)

It would have been impossible to untie all the curious knots that held its lid tightly closed. If I had wanted to examine the contents, I would have had to take a knife and slice through the hemp, but, of course, I could not have brought myself to break into something that did not belong to me, was not intended for my eyes. Yet I longed to do so. Perhaps in her delusion the woman had filled the box with stones and feathers, twigs and handfuls of grain, imagining that she was enclosing the story of her life. Perhaps she could indeed write a few halting words and had scrawled the doubtless pitiful details of her life in the pathetic hope that the Lord of All Life might be impressed, or worse, had made up a story of plot and persecution out of her madness. Even so, I had not been given permission to open the box. What would happen to a luckless messenger who managed to have the box delivered to the palace and who saw Pharaoh open it only to find rubbish of one sort or another inside? Probably only ridicule, the sharp edge of the illustrious royal tongue, the titters of the surrounding courtiers. I could easily imagine myself standing before the Horus Throne, although the details of the audience chamber and the throne itself were, of course, vague in my mind as I had never seen either. I could see the divine fingers holding the jewelled knife, slicing through the knots, lifting the lid. I could hear the condescending laughter as the King extracted—what? A few stones? A grubby piece of stolen papyrus? I could also hear my career go sliding into oblivion and I groaned. My principles would not allow me to throw the box away or open it and I could not possibly give it to someone else to be made a fool of in front of the Good God. I considered asking my father for advice but discarded the idea. I knew him too well. He would tell me that the responsibility was mine not his, that I was no longer a child, that I should not have accepted the box in the first place. He already saw my judgement as faulty and believed that it was only a matter of time before I was forced to change my mind regarding my decision to become a soldier. This stupid act of mine would simply reinforce his opinion of me. I knew he loved me fiercely, but I wanted to make him proud of me also. I would not approach him with this matter.

That left only my General. I would take the box to him tomorrow, explain to him what had happened, suffer his annoyance or amusement. I remembered that the woman had implored me not to say anything about it to Paiis, but how sane was her request anyway? It was impossible that she should know anything about him but his name. The relief I felt at having made the decision was immediate and overwhelming. Laying the box on the floor, I climbed back under my sheets. Wepwawet seemed to watch my movements with a fatuous satisfaction. I was asleep within moments.

Setau woke me an hour before dawn and I rose, ate a light meal, and dressed myself in the uniform of my position as an officer in the house of the General. The spotless kilt, the oiled leather belt with its burden of dagger and sword, the white linen helmet, the plain armband denoting my status, gave me a feeling of belonging and I put them on with pride. Slipping on my sandals and tucking gauntlets into my belt, I picked up the box and left the house.

The garden was still hushed and dark but the moon had set, and in the east a thin ribbon of red divided the land from the sky. Nut was about to give birth to Ra in a gush of blood. I could have descended our watersteps and taken the skiff, but I was not in danger of being late this morning so I walked along the river path as one by one the birds began their first songs and a few sleepy servants appeared to sweep the steps and clean the river craft.

The General’s estate was not far, indeed no destination was far in Pi-Ramses. His gates opened just beyond Takhuru’s home. I glanced into her garden, for sometimes if she woke early she would take her fruit and bread onto the roof and wave at me as I passed, but there was only a servant shaking a hanging from which a cloud of dust spewed and hung glinting in the new light.

Once within the General’s precincts I sought out the officer in charge, then received the report from the man I was replacing. Nothing untoward had happened while I had been gone. Stowing the box under a bush by the entrance, I took up my station in front of one of the pillars and settled contentedly to watch the lush garden fill with life and warmth. This week I guarded the General. Next week I would take up residence in the barracks for weapons drill. It was rumoured that my company might be going out onto the western desert for manoeuvres. By this evening the nagging problem of the box would be solved. I was a happy man.

My watch passed without incident. Two hours after dawn a litter arrived and carried away a pale and yawning woman who emerged tentatively from the house escorted by the General’s Steward and an attentive maidservant who immediately unfolded a parasol and held it over her mistress’s tousled head as she approached her conveyance, although the sun was far from its full force. The woman climbed onto the litter, giving me a glimpse of one taut calf, and the maid closed the curtains hurriedly, whether to shut out the sun or the few eyes fixed on the scene I did not know. Nor did I care. The litter was lifted, the maid walking by her invisible mistress’s side, and disappeared towards the river.

A short time later the traffic into and out of the house began in earnest; fellow Generals and lesser officers, Paiis’s household servants, an occasional boon-seeker, Heralds and minor messengers, and I watched them all, challenging the faces I did not recognize, greeting those I did, until it was time for the noon meal. One of the men under me took my place while I went to the kitchen behind the house for my bread, cold duck and beer which I consumed sitting in the shade in a secluded corner of the garden, then I resumed my duties.

In the late afternoon I made my report to my replacement, retrieved the box, and entered the house, asking the Steward if the General might see me on a personal matter. I was in luck. The General was still in his office, though he was due to leave for the palace soon. As a member of his household staff I knew the layout of the premises intimately and did not need an escort to arrive at the rather forbidding double doors leading to his private domain. Knocking, I was bidden tersely to enter and did so. The room was not strange to me. Large and rather pleasant, it contained a desk, two chairs, numerous chests bound in brass, an ornate brazier and a shrine to Montu before whose likeness an incense cup smoked. Because the few windows were cut high in the wall, the light was always diffused, an advantage, I reflected, for a man who often began the work of the day with burning eyes and a pounding head. Paiis was a man of sensual appetites, less a field officer than a strategist and military tactician, and I often wondered how he had managed to survive the years of rigorous physical training followed by an obligatory apprenticeship in the ranks of the army before being promoted. Not that he was soft. I knew that he spent a considerable amount of time swimming, wrestling, and drawing the bow, but I suspected that he did so in order to continue to pursue his real interests—vintage wine and the delights of sex—and his excesses in both were beginning to tell in spite of his discipline. Handsome and vain, he was nevertheless a good superior, impersonal in his commands and impartial in matters of judgement.

I approached him confidently, saluting as I came up to the desk, and stood to attention as best I could with the box under my arm. He smiled at me. I presumed that he was due to dine at the palace, for he was dressed sumptuously in red linen, his black, grey-flecked hair held back by a scarlet ribbon fringed with tiny golden arrows. Gold dust glittered in the oil on his broad chest and above his thickly kohled eyes and more gold gleamed around his wrists. He was as magnificently arrayed as a woman, yet the impression he gave was one of purely masculine power. I did not know if I liked him. One did not think of one’s superiors in such terms. But I occasionally hoped that I saw my own future in his great wealth and position.

“Well, Kamen,” he said warmly, indicating that I might stand easy. “I understand that you want to speak to me regarding something personal. I hope it is not a request for a different posting. I know I must lose you eventually but I shall be sorry to do so. You are a promising young officer and my household guard functions well under you.”

“Thank you, General,” I answered. “I am content to be in your employ, although I do hope for a more active posting before I marry in a year’s time. After that I daresay there will be less opportunities for soldiering away from Pi-Ramses.” He looked amused.

“Your future wife will wish it so,” he replied, “but marriage will only curtail your ambitions if you let it. Unfortunately for you there are few rough and dangerous posts to be filled these days, but I suppose you may continue to dream of sudden invasions.” His face did not mirror the condescension of his words. He continued to smile at me kindly. “Now what is the trouble?”

I leaned forward and placed the box on the desk, inwardly bracing myself for my confession. “I have done a foolish thing, General,” I began. “Have you heard of the madwoman at Aswat?”

“Aswat?” he frowned. “That mud puddle in the south? Wepwawet has a rather fine temple on its outskirts as I recall, but the village has nothing else to recommend it. Yes, I have heard of some woman who pesters those who are forced to dock there on the way to a more salubrious destination. What of her? And what is this?” He had pulled the box towards him, but then he paused, going very still as his gaze fell on the many convoluted knots holding it closed. “Where did you get this?” he demanded brusquely. His fingers, weighted with rings, began to move almost clumsily over the hemp, then he snatched his hand away and sat straight. His words were like an accusation and I was taken aback.

“Forgive me, General Paiis, if I have done something wrong,” I said, “but I needed your advice. The woman gave it to me, or rather, I agreed to take it. You see, she importunes all travellers to deliver this box to Pharaoh. She tells a tale of attempted murder and exile and says that she wrote it all down. She’s insane of course, no one listens to her, but I felt sorry for her and now I don’t know what to do with whatever is in there.” I pointed at the box. “It would have been dishonest to toss it into the Nile, and even more dishonest to cut the knots and examine the contents. I do not have the authority to approach Pharaoh even if I wanted to, and I do not want to!” Now a wintry smile twisted the General’s lips. He seemed to be recovering from whatever had ailed him, but he still looked somehow diminished, and I noticed for the first time the tiny red tracks of weariness in his eyes.

“I am not surprised,” he said wryly. “Only the mad would aid the mad in that way. But sometimes honesty and insanity have a great deal in common, have they not, my idealistic young soldier?” Once more his hand hovered over the box but then withdrew as though he were afraid it would contaminate him in some way. “What is this woman like?” he asked. “I have heard her spoken of among the Heralds but rarely and briefly, as a mild and usually humorous inconvenience, and I paid no attention. Describe her to me.” Now it was my turn to frown.

“She is a peasant, and like most peasants she should be anonymous,” I said slowly. “Her hair is black, her skin burned dark by the sun. But I remember her well. There was something different about her, something exotic. Her language and her accent were too refined for a mere villager and she had blue eyes.”

When I finished speaking he stared at me for so long that at first I thought he had lost interest and ceased to listen, and then that he had been struck by some sort of fit. An awkward silence fell. For a while I did not wish to appear rude so I continued to look into his face but the moment became embarrassing and I let my attention wander. It was then I realized that he had certainly heard me and was struggling to absorb the impact of my artless words, for he was gripping the edge of his desk with such ferocity that the skin around his rings was white. My heart began to pound.

“You know who she is!” I blurted, and at that he came to himself.

“For a moment I thought I did,” he said quietly, “but of course I am mistaken. This is coincidence, nothing more. Leave the box with me. You were a sentimental idiot to accept it in the first place, Kamen, but no harm has been done. I acknowledge your misplaced sense of pity. You may go.” His voice was strained, and as I watched he began to massage his temple as though his head had begun to ache.

“But General Paiis, Noble One, you will not throw it away?” I pressed. He did not look up.

“No,” he said slowly. “Oh no. I will certainly not throw it away. But seeing you have chosen to foist the responsibility for it onto me, young man, you must leave all decisions regarding its disposal in my hands. Do you trust me?” Now he did lift his glance as he spoke the last words. His mouth had thinned and I swear that if I had been close enough to feel his breath it would have been cold. I nodded and came to attention once more.

“I am your obedient servant, General. I am grateful for your indulgence.”

“You are dismissed.”

I saluted, turned on my heel, and left his office, my mind in a turmoil. Had I done the right thing after all? I had not thought of my action as divesting myself of a responsibility, and I did not believe that placing the box in the General’s hands gave him the right to do with it as he wished.

I had bid my replacement on the door an absent good evening and was walking through the gate when it came to me that I did not in fact trust General Paiis in this matter. The woman had not trusted him either. She had warned me not to give the box to him and I had ignored the warning. He did know who she was. Not by reputation, not by gossip among the Heralds, but by actually standing face to face with her. I was increasingly positive of this. He had asked me to describe her and I had told him of someone familiar to him, someone, moreover, with the power to evoke a surprisingly intense response in him. He had recognized the knots first, and my words had confirmed that recognition. But what was between them? I wondered as I set off towards my home. What could possibly link a peasant and the rich and mighty Paiis? Whatever it was, the General was very troubled. Could at least some of the woman’s story be true?