and presently my father will come home and there will be a great fuss, and he will say “why have you not done this?” and “you should have done that,” and Yahmose will look worried and Sobek will laugh and be insolent about it, and my father will spoil Ipy who is sixteen just as he used to spoil him when he was eight, and nothing will be different at all!’ She paused, breathless.
Hori sighed. Then he said gently:
‘You do not understand, Renisenb. There is an evil that comes from outside, that attacks so that all the world can see, but there is another kind of rottenness that breeds from within—that shows no outward sign. It grows slowly, day by day, till at last the whole fruit is rotten—eaten away by disease.’
Renisenb stared at him. He had spoken almost absently, not as though he were speaking to her, but more like a man who muses to himself.
She cried out sharply:
‘What do you mean, Hori? You make me afraid.’
‘I am afraid myself.’
‘But what do you mean? What is this evil you talk about?’
He looked at her then, and suddenly smiled.
‘Forget what I said, Renisenb. I was thinking of the diseases that attack the crops.’
Renisenb sighed in relief.
‘I’m glad. I thought—I don’t know what I thought.’
Third Month of Inundation 4th Day
Satipy was talking to Yahmose. Her voice had a high strident note that seldom varied its tone.
‘You must assert yourself. That is what I say! You will never be valued unless you assert yourself. Your father says this must be done and that must be done and why have you not done the others? And you listen meekly and reply yes, yes, and excuse yourself for the things that he says should have been done—and which, the Gods know, have often been quite impossible! Your father treats you as a child—as a young, irresponsible boy! You might be the age of Ipy.’
Yahmose said quietly:
‘My father does not treat me in the least as he treats Ipy.’
‘No, indeed.’ Satipy fell upon the new subject with renewed venom. ‘He is foolish about that spoiled brat! Day by day Ipy gets more impossible. He swaggers round and does no work that he can help and pretends that anything that is asked of him is too hard for him! It is a disgrace. And all because he knows that your father will always indulge him and take his part. You and Sobek should take a strong line about it.’
Yahmose shrugged his shoulders.
‘What is the good?’
‘You drive me mad, Yahmose—that is so like you! You have no spirit. You’re as meek as a woman! Everything that your father says you agree with at once!’
‘I have a great affection for my father.’
‘Yes, and he trades on that! You go on meekly accepting blame and excusing yourself for things that are no fault of yours! You should speak up and answer him back as Sobek does. Sobek is afraid of nobody!’
‘Yes, but remember, Satipy, that it is I who am trusted by my father, not Sobek. My father reposes no confidence in Sobek. Everything is always left to my judgement, not his.’
‘And that is why you should be definitely associated as a partner in the estate! You represent your father when he is away, you act as ka-priest in his absence, everything is left in your hands—and yet you have no recognized authority. There should be a proper settlement. You are now a man of nearly middle age. It’s not right that you should be treated still as a child.’
Yahmose said doubtfully:
‘My father likes to keep things in his own hands.’
‘Exactly. It pleases him that everyone in the household should be dependent upon him—and upon his whim of the moment. It is bad, that, and it will get worse. This time when he comes home you must tackle him boldly—you must say that you demand a settlement in writing, that you insist on having a regularized position.’
‘He would not listen.’
‘Then you must make him listen. Oh that I were a man! If I were in your place I would know what to do! Sometimes I feel that I am married to a worm.’
Yahmose flushed.
‘I will see what I can do—I might, yes, I might perhaps speak to my father—ask him—’
‘Not ask—you must demand! After all, you have the whip hand of him. There is no one but you whom he can leave in charge here. Sobek is too wild, your father does not trust him, and Ipy is too young.’
‘There is always Hori.’
‘Hori is not a member of the family. Your father relies on his judgement, but he would not leave authority except in the hands of his own kin. But I see how it is; you are too meek and mild—and there is milk in your veins, not blood! You don’t consider me, or our children. Not till your father is dead shall we ever have our proper position.’
Yahmose said heavily:
‘You despise me, don’t you, Satipy?’
‘You make me angry.’
‘Listen, I tell you that I will speak to my father when he comes. There, it is a promise.’
Satipy murmured under her breath:
‘Yes—but how will you speak? Like a man—or like a mouse?’
Kait was playing with her youngest child, little Ankh. The baby was just beginning to walk and Kait encouraged her with laughing words, kneeling in front of her and waiting with outstretched arms until the child lurched precariously forward and toddled on uncertain feet into her mother’s arms.
Kait had been displaying these accomplishments to Sobek, but she realized suddenly that he was not attending, but was sitting with his handsome forehead furrowed into a frown.
‘Oh, Sobek—you were not looking. You do not see. Little one, tell your father he is naughty not to watch you.’
Sobek said irritably:
‘I have other things to think of—yes, and worry about.’
Kait leaned back on her heels, smoothing her hair back from her heavy dark brows where Ankh’s fingers had clutched it.
‘Why? Is there something wrong?’
Kait spoke without quite giving all her attention. The question was more than half mechanical.
Sobek
