The Hippopotamus Marsh Read Free

too much joy in such an opportunity. But I will breathe more freely when I see it glide past and dwindle out of sight. “I think that they are merely negotiating a change in the wind’s direction,” he called back. Si-Amun gave a resigned shrug.
    “You are probably right,” he said loudly, “and I am bored today.” He waved and turned towards the house. Seqenenra watched him for a moment, but then his attention returned to the river. He had expected to see the bow of the vessel with its sail being hoisted again, but to his dismay the oars had been run out and the craft was already veering towards his watersteps. Alarmed, he hurried down the stairs.
    He emerged into the courtyard, and when he reached the gap in the wall he found Kamose waiting for him. “Si-Amun was right. They are not going on,” he said tersely. “They are coming here.” Kamose stood back as he pushed his way through and both of them looked towards the river.
    “What can they possibly want?” Kamose asked worriedly. “New Year’s Day was five months ago. The tribute was paid, the gifts sent and acknowledged, and it is too early for our tax assessment.”
    Seqenenra shook his head, glancing at his son’s handsome face as they started for the house together. “I cannot guess,” he replied heavily, “but it will be nothing to our advantage, you may be sure.”
    “Let us pray that they only want a flagon of wine, a good meal and a night under your roof before sailing on into Kush,” Kamose observed. “I think they see us as the last bastion of civilized comfort before they brave the rigours ofthe south. How they fear and despise the desert! Ahmose! Where are you going?” Seqenenra’s youngest son ran past barefooted, his kilt rumpled and dusty.
    “I am meeting Turi on the practice ground for a wrestling match!” Ahmose yelled over his shoulder. “We have a small wager between us!”
    “Be present at dinner, Ahmose!” Seqenenra shouted after him. “We have guests!” The boy waved his acknowledgement.
    “Guests,” Kamose repeated bitterly. “They were not invited and we have no choice but to receive them.” Seqenenra answered the salute of the soldier on duty at the main entrance. As he and Kamose entered the house, Uni left the shadows and came swiftly towards him. Kamose disappeared in the direction of his own apartments in the men’s quarters.
    “A royal craft is about to dock at the watersteps,” Seqenenra told the steward. “Send an escort to meet whoever is on board. Tell Isis to warn the Lady Tetisheri and my wife, and have fruit and wine ready in the garden. I want to pray and change my kilt.” Without waiting for Uni’s nod he strode towards his rooms. “Water, quickly!” he ordered the body servant who had appeared in answer to his call and was bowing. “And I will need fresh linen. We have company from the Delta.” Do not look for trouble where there is none, he told himself sternly as he unloosed his sandals and reached for the water jug. Stay calm. Do not antagonize Apepa’s messenger. Do not upset the balance of today’s Ma’at, O Prince of Weset!
    Opening his shrine, he took up the incense holder lying beside it, lit the charcoal from the candle kept burning forthat purpose, and sprinkled a few grains of incense on it. Bowing to the image of Amun the Great Cackler, lord and protector of Weset, he made his obeisance and then prostrated himself on the cool floor. Help me to keep my temper, he prayed. Give me the gift of wisdom to hear whatever it is that has brought the King’s herald this far, without betraying either impatience or contempt. Guard my tongue, that I may not offend him to my detriment and the peril of my family. Veil my thoughts from him so that he sees only politeness behind my eyes. There was nothing more to say. Rising, he took a moment to inhale the sweet smoke from the burner before snuffing it out, closing the shrine, and submitting to the ministrations of his servant who had