came with your stories at the right moment, to distract the Queen. She had been labouring for hours before she called for me, and she was at the end of her strength. So, it has ended well. And what did you think of the great female mystery, daughter?' she demanded, more mildly.
'Strange and terrible,' I said. 'Were all of us thus born?'
'All except Amenhotep our Lord may he live,' said a voice from the door.
'Even he, may he live forever, and divine conception aside, was born of a woman,' snapped Tey. 'Who are you?'
'I am Ptah-hotep, the Great Royal Scribe,' said the young man mildly. 'I was asked by the Princess Sitamen to bring a scribe for your daughters, Lady. Here he is. His name is Khons, and he asks more questions than anyone could answer.'
'He should be heart-friend to these two, then,' snarled Tey. 'This is Great Royal Wife Merope, a barbarian princess, and this is my daughter the Lady Mutnodjme, sister to the Divine Spouse Nefertiti. Have you eaten, young man?'
This was a polite enquiry made of all visitors, but it was not delivered in a polite tone. Even Khons raised an eyebrow and looked at the Great Royal Scribe who, I could not help but note seemed awfully young to be so eminent.
He was good looking. He had very long hair, braided into a plait by someone with a great deal of skill. She had threaded in blue beads and small mirrors that winked and flashed as he moved. He wore no jewellery but his scribal ring, big enough to stiffen a hand to the knuckle. His cloth was perfectly plain. He had the pale skin, high cheekbones and elongated eyes of the Theban bloodline, and those black eyes were wary, giving nothing away. His voice was low, clear and firm and his mode of address very formal.
'Great Royal Nurse Tey, Gracious Lady, I am sure that you will wish to be exceedingly hospitable to the Teacher Khons, because I will be obliged to report to the Princess on his progress and I would be very loathe to have to say anything to your discredit. I am bidden to dine with the High Priest of Amen-Re so I cannot stay long, but I would enjoy a cup of beer and a little conversation with your daughter Lady Mutnodjme and Great Royal Wife Merope.'
Merope, who had been hanging back, came forward and offered him her hand to kiss. He sank to one knee and did so with due solemnity. My mother flicked a hand at the slaves, and chairs were brought. We all sat down.
Great Royal Nurse Tey was examining the scribe closely and suddenly decided to like him, which was how Tey was. If she loved you, she loved you no matter how she might later scream or slap. If she hated you, she hated fiercely and could not be diverted. It was a pity that she had never loved me and I did not know how to change her mind.
'I greet the Great Royal Scribe,' she said formally. 'I beg that he should forgive my hasty words. I have just come from the childbirth of the Queen Tiye may she live and I am fatigued.'
'May we hope that the Great Lady was safely delivered?' Scribe Ptah-hotep matched her in courtesy.
'Indeed, of a son. She has called him Smenkhare. As you are dining with the High Priest, please inform him of this event. Do me the honour of tasting this brew,' she said, as the slaves brought a jar of the very light ale which we drank on very hot days.
Ptah-hotep handed his cup to a slave who stood by the door. A Nubian woman with beaded hair sipped and nodded and returned it to him.
'Your precautions are wise, Lord, if you will forgive me saying so.'
'I forgive you, certainly,' said the young man. Honours were, I decided, about even. Tey was interested in the Scribe but could not, in politeness, ask any more questions.
Teacher Khons was older than the Scribe Ptah-hotep. He was thickset and looked strong, and I wondered at the mess that someone had made of his back. He had been beaten many times. I wondered who had beaten him and why. He had a shaved head and golden rings in his ears and a fine, wide, dazzling grin which showed teeth like seeds. He grinned at us and we smiled back, a little nervously. I wondered if his teeth could bite as well as smile.
'Let us see if we will suit,' he said to me. 'Greetings, Lady Mutnodjme, Lady Merope. What would you ask of your teacher?'
'Tell us about the divine birth,' I said. Birth was on my mind and I had privately resolved to see it again.
Teacher Khons spoke promptly:
The Divine Amenhotep's mother lay down in her bed one night, and behold! her husband came to her, and lay down with her, and did such things as were pleasing to her .
And she said, 'You have pleased me and lain inside me, and I felt your seed spring in me. I am scented with your essence; my soul took flight; I love you'.
But he did not speak in reply but left her and was gone.
That night she conceived the Lord Amenhotep; and yet her husband had slept the night alone.
'How?' I demanded. 'How can she have conceived if her husband slept alone? You just said he lay with her.'
'It was Re the Sun, even Amen-Re himself, who lay with the great Royal Wife,' explained Teacher Khons.
We thought about it.
'Amen-Re in the shape of her husband?' I puzzled it out. 'He came to her in her husband's form?'
'She was a virtuous woman who took no lovers,' explained Khons. 'Therefore he had to come in her husband's shape, or she would have rejected him, even the god, even the Sun himself.'
'But...' I began. The Scribe Ptah-hotep lifted a hand.
'I must leave you, I regret. Teach them well, Khons, I leave it in your hands. You will lodge here, and the Great Royal Wife Tiye is responsible for your expenses. Farewell, ladies.' He stood up. The Nubian woman opened the door for him.
'Come again,' urged Tey, making one of her infrequent bows. The young man returned the bow and his mirrors glittered.
'Lady,' he acknowledged, and left.
'Tell us another,' urged Merope.
Tey flapped a hand at me. 'In a moment. Teacher Khons, you may lodge here, and the young ladies will show you where you can lay your mat. It is very kind of the Queen to send you, and I appreciate it. If you can answer some of the ladies' questions, you will be performing a valuable service.
'Tell me,' she said, escorting him to the small chamber next to ours and instructing a woman to lay out his mat and refold his bundle of creased garments, 'What do you know of the scribe Ptah-hotep? He has impressed me very favourably.'
'Lady, he took me out of the school of scribes and rescued me from a marshy fate. He was the best scribe at the school, which is why the Master offered him to Pharaoh Akhnamen may he live! Otherwise, I did not know him well,' said Khons, watching a slave lay out his frayed and damaged wardrobe with evident embarrassment.
'We will ask the Queen for some new cloths,' said Tey, slightly amused. 'Where do you come from, Teacher?'
'From the North, Lady, the Nome of Set. My father trades in pots in the market,' he added, fiercely rather than humbly.
'Mine trained racehorses,' returned Tey. 'It is difficult, is it not? To live in a palace
