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Authors: Mary Gentle
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sprang up, went to the window, and knelt down beside
her. I thought it tactful to turn away and converse with Rekhmire’ while
Leon comforted her.
I drained my wine glass. ‘No one would care in Alexandria, would
they?’
‘That they are man and man, not man and wife? Likely not; why
should they? If they want to live as man and woman, and are discreet,
Ty-ameny would permit it. Given Master Leon’s interest in the arts and
architecture, and the Classical writings, I think she would even forgive
him being a Frank.’
There was a very faint teasing air about that last. I smiled briefly at
him.
‘But still,’ Rekhmire’ murmured, the amusement leaving his expres-
sion, ‘Neferet didn’t expect to return to Alexandria without him. That
will hurt her.’
39
‘ I would take you with me! ’ Leon’s voice rose. ‘I swear by Christ on the Tree! If there was any way it could be managed—’
Perhaps the matter had been enough on my mind recently that I saw
through it, in that instant, to an answer. As if I reached up and caught the tail of the lightning-bolt, and was instantly gifted with illumination.
Yes: this will work!
But she will not like it, I realised. It may work, but she will hate it and
me . . .
I stood up, finding by that I drew Rekhmire’’s and Leon’s attention.
Leon had one arm about Neferet’s waist, where he knelt at her side.
Neferet’s large fingers were interlocked with his.
‘You said it yourself,’ I remarked, meeting Neferet’s gaze. ‘There’s no
role for an unmarried woman in a house in Florence. Or for one married
to a different man, or to a widow, unless you could produce visible evidence of a husband. You wouldn’t be trusted because you’re a
foreigner.’
Leon scowled, looking as if he would interrupt.
‘ I found Venice far more confining than Rome or Carthage,’ I said,
‘and in Carthage I was a slave! But leaving that aside: in Venice, I’ve
been a woman. In Rome, I was,’ remembering Leon’s presence, I
stumbled over, ‘dressed as – a man.’
Rekhmire’ gestured with an open demanding palm. ‘And?’
I turned to the other Alexandrine. ‘Neferet, couldn’t you go to
Florence—’
Some friendly deity moved me to add a phrase:
‘—disguised as a man?’
She stared.
I added hastily, ‘Nobody would think anything of Leon taking on an
Alexandrine scribe as a secretary—’
‘ Disguised as a man? ’
Neferet shrieked loudly enough that I had time to think I would, if I
had simply said go to Florence as a man , either now be deaf, or have had something injurious thrown at me. And likely deserve it.
I snapped out, ‘If I can disguise myself as a man, you can!’
I saw her turn the matter over in her mind. She knows, from gossip
with Honorius’s men-at-arms, that I was a thoroughly convincing young
man in Rome. She has been telling me, all the while I’ve been here, that
truly I am a woman. If I can pass as a man, therefore – why not she?
‘I won’t do it!’ She stood up, trembling. ‘It’s undignified! And you—’
She swung around, pointing a finger at Rekhmire’. ‘You’ve never
believed me anything but Jahar pa-sheri! You see me as a monster, don’t
you?’
Rekhmire’, pale under his reddish skin, sat bolt upright. ‘No more than
I do Ilario!’
40
Frustration sealed her lips: she glared at Rekhmire’, and at me, and
turned on her heel to shout at Leon Battista.
The Florentine was still kneeling on the floor beside the window-seat.
He looked up, without rising.
‘Neferet – I really don’t mind.’
Her hand made a fist, in the folds of her dress. She stared so intensely
at him, her glance would have made glass catch fire and burn.
‘What do you mean?’
He put a hand on the window embrasure and pushed himself up,
making a face as his knees evidently pained him. The wet cold in the
Doge’s prison takes a long time to leave a man’s bones.
‘I don’t care.’ He walked over
her. I thought it tactful to turn away and converse with Rekhmire’ while
Leon comforted her.
I drained my wine glass. ‘No one would care in Alexandria, would
they?’
‘That they are man and man, not man and wife? Likely not; why
should they? If they want to live as man and woman, and are discreet,
Ty-ameny would permit it. Given Master Leon’s interest in the arts and
architecture, and the Classical writings, I think she would even forgive
him being a Frank.’
There was a very faint teasing air about that last. I smiled briefly at
him.
‘But still,’ Rekhmire’ murmured, the amusement leaving his expres-
sion, ‘Neferet didn’t expect to return to Alexandria without him. That
will hurt her.’
39
‘ I would take you with me! ’ Leon’s voice rose. ‘I swear by Christ on the Tree! If there was any way it could be managed—’
Perhaps the matter had been enough on my mind recently that I saw
through it, in that instant, to an answer. As if I reached up and caught the tail of the lightning-bolt, and was instantly gifted with illumination.
Yes: this will work!
But she will not like it, I realised. It may work, but she will hate it and
me . . .
I stood up, finding by that I drew Rekhmire’’s and Leon’s attention.
Leon had one arm about Neferet’s waist, where he knelt at her side.
Neferet’s large fingers were interlocked with his.
‘You said it yourself,’ I remarked, meeting Neferet’s gaze. ‘There’s no
role for an unmarried woman in a house in Florence. Or for one married
to a different man, or to a widow, unless you could produce visible evidence of a husband. You wouldn’t be trusted because you’re a
foreigner.’
Leon scowled, looking as if he would interrupt.
‘ I found Venice far more confining than Rome or Carthage,’ I said,
‘and in Carthage I was a slave! But leaving that aside: in Venice, I’ve
been a woman. In Rome, I was,’ remembering Leon’s presence, I
stumbled over, ‘dressed as – a man.’
Rekhmire’ gestured with an open demanding palm. ‘And?’
I turned to the other Alexandrine. ‘Neferet, couldn’t you go to
Florence—’
Some friendly deity moved me to add a phrase:
‘—disguised as a man?’
She stared.
I added hastily, ‘Nobody would think anything of Leon taking on an
Alexandrine scribe as a secretary—’
‘ Disguised as a man? ’
Neferet shrieked loudly enough that I had time to think I would, if I
had simply said go to Florence as a man , either now be deaf, or have had something injurious thrown at me. And likely deserve it.
I snapped out, ‘If I can disguise myself as a man, you can!’
I saw her turn the matter over in her mind. She knows, from gossip
with Honorius’s men-at-arms, that I was a thoroughly convincing young
man in Rome. She has been telling me, all the while I’ve been here, that
truly I am a woman. If I can pass as a man, therefore – why not she?
‘I won’t do it!’ She stood up, trembling. ‘It’s undignified! And you—’
She swung around, pointing a finger at Rekhmire’. ‘You’ve never
believed me anything but Jahar pa-sheri! You see me as a monster, don’t
you?’
Rekhmire’, pale under his reddish skin, sat bolt upright. ‘No more than
I do Ilario!’
40
Frustration sealed her lips: she glared at Rekhmire’, and at me, and
turned on her heel to shout at Leon Battista.
The Florentine was still kneeling on the floor beside the window-seat.
He looked up, without rising.
‘Neferet – I really don’t mind.’
Her hand made a fist, in the folds of her dress. She stared so intensely
at him, her glance would have made glass catch fire and burn.
‘What do you mean?’
He put a hand on the window embrasure and pushed himself up,
making a face as his knees evidently pained him. The wet cold in the
Doge’s prison takes a long time to leave a man’s bones.
‘I don’t care.’ He walked over
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