The Twice Born by Pauline Gedge

or two at its feet. “Ra is the father of the gods,” Thothmes explained on their first evening together. “He is also the father of mankind and every other living creature, born from his tears and sweat. How is it that you don’t know these things, Huy? Did your father not teach you about the gods?”
    Huy felt suddenly ashamed of his parents. The emotion was new, and it frightened him, so he pushed it away. “I don’t think they care much for the gods,” he said slowly. “I mean, they don’t spend much time praying, and we don’t go to Khenti-kheti’s shrine regularly. But my mother gave me my Nefer amulet, so perhaps it’s not that they don’t care.” He had said almost the same thing to Harnakht not long ago. “I think they are too busy and live too far from the shrine.”
    “Well, can they not hire a litter, at least on feast days?”
    “No, they can’t,” Huy snapped, and like the shame, a full understanding of his parents’ status opened out in his mind for the first time. There was a gulf between him and the small, intent boy sitting cross-legged on the cot opposite. It was larger and somehow different from the gap separating his father from his uncle Ker. If he had considered the matter at all, he had seen Uncle Ker as a little bigger than his father, taller and fatter, and thus more full of whatever it was that made Uncle Ker able to give him the presents his father could not. But now, seeing them both in his mind’s eye, he realized that in fact Ker was slighter and shorter than Hapu. Ker’s skin was paler, his hands uncalloused, his linens softer. We are poorer than Uncle Ker , he thought with shock. I knew it, but did not really know it until now. And even Uncle Ker is not a nobleman, like Thothmes’ father . “They can’t because they are not rich enough,” he answered his new friend carefully. “They have plenty of food and a servant, but they cannot afford either the time or the cost of visits to the shrine.”
    “I’m sorry, Huy,” Thothmes said. “Perhaps when you grow up and become a scribe you will be able to give them their own litter. Here comes Pabast with the lamp. Shall we play knucklebones tonight?”
    Huy asked many questions about Ra over the next few weeks. When he was satisfied with Thothmes’ answers, he retrieved his precious scarab and under Thothmes’ admiring gaze he set it at the feet of the god. “You have convinced me of Ra’s power,” he said. “I have missed looking at this treasure, and now, under Ra’s protection, it will be safe and I can enjoy it whenever I want.” He told Thothmes the story of his Naming Day and found himself talking at length about Ishat. “She’s only a girl, but she’s clever and she likes the right games,” he finished. “I expect she would do well here at school.”
    “I don’t think girls come here,” Thothmes objected. “Princesses are taught in the palace. Some of the daughters of my father’s friends are learning to read, but they have tutors at home.” He made a face. “I wouldn’t like to have girls in the school. They complain a lot and make a fuss about silly things. Can you imagine a girl learning to swim?” Both boys had been doing well at their swimming lessons. Huy did not want to start an argument by telling Thothmes that Ishat, a year younger than himself, could already swim like a fish.
    Huy’s uncle visited him on the last day of the following month, Mekhir. He arrived just as the morning’s class was over and Huy, summoned by one of the temple priests, rolled up his mat and ran into the corridor, where Ker was waiting. The man bent and opened his arms and Huy literally jumped into them. “Uncle Ker! You smell like home!” he shrieked.
    Ker hugged him and set him on his feet. “Gods, Huy, can you have grown in just two months?” he exclaimed. “You look very well. Are you happy? The Overseer tells me that you are settling down without trouble. My barge is moored on the lake of the canal