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be done by anyone who can add, subtract, and write a fair hand. You don’t want to be overawed, Ptah-hotep, in fact you cannot afford to have anyone with a lot more experience than you have yourself. What do you say to Khety? He is a commoner, though he shows no peasant good sense. He is skilled enough, in fact he was due to leave before Opet to go back to his father and become scribe on his estate, and I know that he was unhappy at the prospect. His father is a dreadful bully.’
I remembered Khety, a pleasant boy with an excellent memory. He was always in trouble for day-dreaming, but he told wonderful tales as we lay in the shade at noon. I nodded and called for a writing board. Meryt brought it with a speed which suggested that she had heard every word of my Master’s discourse.
‘Mentu and Khety,’ I wrote on a scrap of pumiced papyrus.
‘Hanufer, I know he’s not a bright cheerful boy but he’s determined and he’s thorough.’ I nodded and wrote down the name. I did not see much scope for cheer in my present situation. Hanufer’s stolid solemnity would suit my office.
‘And the supervisor?’ I asked.
‘Great Royal Scribe, you may command all of my men,’ said my Master. ‘Who would find favour in your eyes?’
‘I need someone who understands politics,’ I said, taking a sip of the wine—it was delicious, I noticed. Tashery was an excellent vineyard. And, as I now recalled, it was mine.
‘Not Snefru, then, he is interested in nothing except ancient scripts. Let’s see, it’s Ephipi now, isn’t it—that’s why it is so foully hot—but in seven days Hathor goes to Horus and we have the festival of Apis. Bakhenmut might be your man and he’ll be back from Memphis after the bull-sacrifice. He is a priest of Osiris, not allied to the priesthood of Amen-Re, which might be useful. He’s shrewd and no gossip. Also he is married with three children and an ambitious wife.’
‘And that is good?’
‘An ambitious wife will be pleased by his ascension and she will know that he owes his position to you. That means you will have an advocate in his household.’
‘Ah,’ I agreed, having not thought about this before.
‘Remember the Divine Amenhotep’s sayings, my pupil. The wise man educates the ignorant to wisdom and those who are hated become those who are loved, ’ said my Master.
‘ He brings to shore him who had no profitable voyage. He who was famine-struck is the possessor of harbours, ’ I rejoined. ‘Whatever that means.’
‘One must always meditate on the sayings,’ said Ammemmes, ‘then their meaning will become clear.
‘Though you will doubtless understand this message which I was bidden to give you by a young scribe who left this morning with the soldier Horemheb. He did not dare write anything, but said that I should bid you to remember a hut in the reeds, and a dog called Wolf.
I blinked back tears, suddenly possessed of memory; Kheperren’s hands, his soft breathing, the way his eyelashes lay fanned on his cheek.
The Master of Scribes coughed, sipped more wine, and remarked, ‘I reminded this young man of his duty to write to me, his master, of his progress. I recalled to him his apprenticeship in my house, and told him that I expected a report every decan. Those he loves he favours; he dries their tears ,’ he quoted.
‘I suggest that you send Hanufer to me at intervals—shall we say, a decan or so?—as he is still my pupil, and he may carry such messages as the Great Royal Scribe sees fit to send to the Master of Scribes. And such as that humble official may be required to send in dutiful reply.’
He did not look at me or smile but I felt that a great weight had been lifted from my heart. I could know of my dearest one, could even communicate with him, without bringing him into any more danger than he would face ranging out along the borders with the guard.
‘I will send the boys as soon as I return. Your office will, of course, be responsible for their board, and a