grandmother … You know quite well that my father, in spite of all his big talk, is really a weak man—’
He stopped abruptly, noting that Esa had shifted her head and was peering over his shoulder. He turned his own head, to find Henet standing close behind him.
‘So Imhotep is a weak man?’ said Henet in her soft whining voice. ‘He will not be pleased, I think, to hear that you have said that of him.’
Ipy gave a quick uneasy laugh.
‘But you will not tell him, Henet … Come now, Henet—promise me … Dear Henet …’
Henet glided towards Esa. She raised her voice with its slightly whining note.
‘Of course, I never want to make trouble—you know that … I am devoted to all of you. I never repeat anything unless I think it is my duty …’
‘I was teasing grandmother, that was all,’ said Ipy. ‘I shall tell my father so. He will know I could not have said such a thing seriously.’
He gave Henet a short, sharp nod and went out of the room.
Henet looked after him and said to Esa:
‘A fine boy—a fine, well-grown boy. And how bravely he speaks!’
Esa said sharply:
‘He speaks dangerously. I do not like the ideas he has in his head. My son indulges him too much.’
‘Who would not? He is such a handsome, attractive boy.’
‘Handsome is as handsome does,’ said Esa sharply.
She was silent a moment or two, then she said slowly: ‘Henet—I am worried.’
‘Worried, Esa? What would worry you? Anyway, the master will soon be here and then all will be well.’
‘Will it? I wonder.’
She was silent once more, then she said:
‘Is my grandson Yahmose in the house?’
‘I saw him coming towards the porch a few moments ago.’
‘Go and tell him I wish to speak with him.’
Henet departed. She found Yahmose on the cool porch with its gaily coloured columns and gave him Esa’s message.
Yahmose obeyed the summons at once.
Esa said abruptly:
‘Yahmose, very soon Imhotep will be here.’
Yahmose’s gentle face lighted up.
‘Yes, that will indeed be good.’
‘All is in order for him? Affairs have prospered?’
‘My father’s instructions have been carried out as well as I could compass them.’
‘What of Ipy?’
Yahmose sighed.
‘My father is over-indulgent where that boy is concerned. It is not good for the lad.’
‘You must make that clear to Imhotep.’
Yahmose looked doubtful.
Esa said firmly: ‘I will back you up.’
‘Sometimes,’ said Yahmose, sighing, ‘there seems to be nothing but difficulties. But everything will be right when my father comes. He can make his own decisions then. It is hard to act as he would wish in his absence—especially when I have no authority, and only act as his delegate.’
Esa said slowly:
‘You are a good son—loyal and affectionate. You have been a good husband too, you have obeyed the proverb that says that a man should love his wife and make a home for her, that he should fill her belly and put clothes on her back, and provide expensive ointments for her toilet and that he should gladden her heart as long as she lives. But there is a further precept—it goes like this: Prevent her from getting the mastery. If I were you, grandson, I should take that precept to heart …’
Yahmose looked at her, flushed deeply and turned away.
Third Month of Inundation 14th Day
Everywhere there was bustle and preparation. Hundreds of loaves had been baked in the kitchen, now ducks were roasting; there was a smell of leeks and garlic and various spices. Women were shouting and giving orders, serving men ran to and fro.
Everywhere ran the murmur:
‘The master—the master is coming …’
Renisenb, helping to weave garlands of poppies and lotus flowers, felt an excited happiness bubbling up in her heart. Her father was coming home! In the last few weeks she had slipped imperceptibly back into the confines of her old life. That first sense of unfamiliarity and strangeness, induced in her, she believed, by Hori’s words, had gone. She was the same Renisenb—Yahmose, Satipy, Sobek and Kait were all the same—now, as in the past, there was all the bustle and fuss of preparations for Imhotep’s return. Word had come ahead that he would be with them before nightfall. One of the servants had been posted on the river bank to give warning of the master’s approach, and suddenly his voice rang out loud and clear giving the agreed call.
Renisenb dropped her flowers and ran out with the others. They all hastened towards the mooring place on the river bank. Yahmose and Sobek were already there in a little crowd of villagers, fishermen and farm labourers, all calling out excitedly and pointing.
Yes, there was the barge with its great square sail coming fast up the river with the North wind bellying out the sail. Close behind it was the kitchen barge crowded with men and women. Presently Renisenb could make out her father sitting holding a lotus flower and with him someone whom she took to be a singer.
The cries on the bank redoubled, Imhotep waved a welcoming hand, the sailors were heaving and pulling on the halyards. There were cries of ‘Welcome to the master,’ calls upon the Gods, and thanks for his safe return, and a few moments later Imhotep came ashore, greeting his family and answering the loud salutations that etiquette demanded.
‘Praise be to Sobek, the child of Neith, who has brought you safely on the water!’ ‘Praise be to Ptah, south of the Memphite wall, who brings you to us! Thanks be to Ré who illumines the Two Lands!’
Renisenb pressed forward, intoxicated with the general excitement.
Imhotep drew himself up importantly and suddenly Renisenb thought: ‘But he is a small man. I thought of him as much bigger than that.’
A feeling that was almost dismay passed over
