Replay - The Secret of the Pyramids - 3. Chapter 3

It was already light when I woke up. The first thing I felt was the sting of sunburn on virtually all body parts and a pounding ache in the back of my head. Only now I realized what the painkillers had spared me yesterday.

Elisa greeted me with a nice pop-up.

12th August 1443 BC.
Time 6:12 AM
Temperature 80° F, Humidity 49%.

In case time-travel was abandoned, she would make a good weather station.

I wasn’t feeling as groggy as yesterday, albeit my thirst was still not quenched and I was hungry. Oh, and I needed to go to the toilet.

Wait a moment! The pop-up said 12th August 1443. That meant Elisa was able to complete the localization process! A glimmer of hope at last. “What’s the status, Elisa?”

“I completed the localization process half an hour ago. I have subsequently sent a brief report to base, but have not received an answer yet. I am repeating the transmission every ten minutes.”

I wondered how things were over there. I was overdue by more than twelve hours now. Hopefully, they would get the message. Lisa was surely worried sick and rightly so. My return was questionable, as was my survival in this time. After all, I was a slave and a hard to sell one at that.

I took a look around, trying to push the grim thoughts aways for now. The market square was still almost empty, although a few traders were starting to fill their shelves. They brought all kinds of fruit and vegetables, some I knew, some I didn’t. I saw pigs, pigeons, and other living animals as well, probably sold for slaughtering. Even cats were offered. Hopefully as pets, not as meals. Next to my cage were a few more. Half of them were occupied by other captives. They all looked different from the people on the other side of the bars. The townsfolk seemed to keep slaves mostly from foreign cultures – as it was most of the time when it came to slavery. The older man, obviously the father of my captor, was approaching the cages. He wasn’t old in an absolute sense, probably around thirty-five, just older than the average citizen I saw here.

“It’s time to freshen up! Today’s the major market day and I want to cut some good deals.”

If I hadn’t known that the dollar wasn’t invented yet, I would have sworn I saw dollar signs in his eyes. For obvious reasons the history I studied in preparation for this trip was mostly from the 18th to 20th century, but I did have some basic knowledge of antiquity. For example, I knew that ancient Egypt didn’t have a currency yet. Bartering was predominant. There was an arithmetic unit, the deben, which was actually a unit of weight. It was used to determine the value of wares in relation to their weight in gold, silver, or copper. Would the price for me also depend on my weight?

I sported a small grin. Very funny, Phil. At least you still have some gallows humor. I made a mental note to look up more about the country and its people. Surely there would be suitable reading in the TTEK’s database.

First, however, “freshening up” was in order. We were taken out of the cages by two able-bodied guards. We weren’t tied up or restrained in any way, though the armed men were making their position clear to us regardless. The other slaves seemed already familiar with the procedure, so I just copied them. A few clay pots full of water were at the ready, presumably for us to pour them over our dirty bodies.

Of course, that meant undressing even the last remaining pieces of clothing, which I didn’t feel too comfortable doing in the middle of the market space. The others didn’t show any reservations, though. They were diligently occupied with their clay pots, already wet and naked. I didn’t dare more than a short glance at this scene. Getting an erection would be the last thing I wanted now. I took off my boxers and undershirt as well, keeping close tabs on the latter. After all, it was comforting to have something protecting me against most weapons of this time.

I thoroughly enjoyed the cool water flowing over my body. This refreshment was long overdue. Still being thirsty, I also drank a good portion of it.

One of the guards handed me a linen towel to dry off. There was only one for all of us, so good thing I got it first…

I saw that one fellow sufferer was peeing in his pot. Another one even sat down on it to take a dump. So that’s how it works. I tried to just not think about the other people on the square. They didn’t seem fazed by the goings-on. In fact, they couldn’t care less about us. After I successfully relieved myself I was brought back to my barred dwelling.

Once everybody was back, the old trader came around exchanging a few words with each slave. Finally, he stepped in front of my cage.

“Do you understand what I say?”

I shook my head, only to be scolded by Elisa. “This action is illogical.”

Oh Phillip… she was right of course. If I wanted to pretend not to understand him, I failed miserably.

The guy laughed. “You understand enough, for a slave. So listen closely. You can live a good life. You get bread and beer from your owner. You are to do everything he commands. And when you’re old, he may even set you free. But if you trouble him, he will punish you. If need be by death. Do you understand?”

This time I nodded.

“Good. One more thing, though. I can’t sell you like this. You need different clothes. Take off yours and put this on.”

He handed me a white waistcloth. The same as the other slaves were already wearing. Dang it! I absolutely had to prevent my shirt from being taken from me. The trader must have seen the terror in my face because he explained that salves were indeed allowed to have personal belongings and I could keep my old clothes – just not wear them right now. Hence appeased I put the new linen on. Or tried to, I should say. I fumbled with it for a while before it was staying on. I must have looked pretty awkward because the trader burst out laughing.

“You’re a weird one for sure. You understand our language, but don’t know how to put on basic clothes. Watch, I’ll show you.”

He took off his own waistcloth, uncovering his private parts. Ancient Egyptians didn’t seem to have an issue with nudity, unlike our modern culture. In one fast and fluent movement, he knotted the cloth around his waist. This time I had paid attention and followed suit, although not as elegantly. He nodded, satisfied with the result.

“Good. Now, you need a name. Because you can’t speak I will choose one for you. I’ll call you… Ameniu.”

Ameniu. Sounds nice. I nodded my head in agreement, not that I had a say in this matter.

He left me alone as the market was quickly getting busier. The Egyptians were early risers. It was easy to divide the shoppers into groups based on their clothes. Penniless farmers, simple and middle-class craftsmen, and the rich. Those who could afford it were wearing intricate silken tunics and various jewelry. The men, too. I even saw bracelets, not unlike mine, but more artistic and often golden. So that’s why the trader didn’t take issue with the TTEK bracelets. They were merely cheap jewelry to his eyes.

The slaver’s booth didn’t see many visitors. And those that came by were all upper-class. Of course, a simple farmer or craftsman wouldn’t be able to afford a slave. They’d rather buy bread and other food. As interesting as it was to observe the market's goings on, I decided to do something useful. I dove into Elisa's historic database to learn more about this country and its people.

---

After a few hours, I ended the reading session. The last page almost became a blur in front of my exhausted eyes. The visor lenses weren’t exactly perfect for longer reading. That should be optimized next time. Well, if there was a next time, given the catastrophe that was this mission. And if there was, who would go? I was out of the equation, being stranded a few thousand years in the past.

At least my reading wasn’t for nothing. For instance, I learned that the Egyptian family ideal was to have a lot of children. Families without children were unthinkable and impotence was among the worst things that could happen to an Egyptian. Also, childhood mortality and maternal mortality were quite high.

On second thoughts, I wasn’t sure whether all this information was of any use to me. The market square had become quite lively now. Most of the booths were buzzing, even the slave trade saw some customers checking out the wares. Their gaze made me feel uncomfortable, not that they were particularly curious or obtrusive. I just didn’t like being displayed. Was that how animals in a zoo felt?

“Is he good for gardening?”, a prospective buyer asked regarding the poor soul in the next cage. I’d learned from my recent research that gardens were important status symbols. The trader was quick to assure the guy’s aptitude for pretty much anything. He clearly was in his element, steering directly towards closing the sale.

“But is he good with children as well? You must know, I have two sons and a little daughter.”

“Oh that’s just perfect! Nameph here was a father himself where he came from. It will work like a charm.”

I wasn’t sure why, but I seriously doubted the trader’s words.

“And what do you want for him?”

“For you, I’ll make a special price. Only two thousand deben copper.”

The customer’s eyes gaped in surprise. “Are you serious? That’s more than a herd of cows is worth! And compared to those he’s nothing but skin and bones.”

The trader smirked. “But those cows couldn’t do your gardening… or at least not in a way that you’d still recognize your precious garden afterwards.”

“Well…,” the rich guy shrugged his shoulders, “I’d take him for one thousand deben.”

“Impossible. Look at how muscular he is. Fifteen hundred and he’s yours.”

“Thirteen hundred and I'll take him.”

“Alright,” the trader agreed. Now they were discussing the details for a while.

Bargaining surely wasn’t a modern invention. How much would people pay for me? I just hoped to get a decent ‘owner’ where I wouldn’t need to shovel excrements or some other dirty work. I was already picturing myself hauling heavy sacks in the heat of the day, or worse, lugging stones up a pyramid under construction.

Whatever was waiting for me, I didn’t plan to play slave for longer than absolutely necessary. If only Lisa received my message. Or maybe she had already, but couldn't answer?

A boy, about thirteen years old, approached carrying a few bowls. He put one in front of each of us. Breakfast had been served – if that was what you’d call the muddy grey mush sloshing in the bowl.

“What the heck is that?” I asked. Of course, the boy didn’t understand me, but he got the gist of it from the face I pulled.

He laughed. “It’s good! My mother made it. I eat it every day.”

If that was true, it should put my mind at ease. After all, the boy looked healthy to me. Then again, something must be causing this time’s average life span of thirty-five years.

“The mixture mainly consists of beer and bread,” Elisa told me. “My spectral analysis also revealed some other contents in small quantities. Listing them could, however, decrease your appetite. You should ingest the food.”

I snorted. How caring of her, wanting to preserve my appetite. Perhaps it was better that way, though. I hadn’t eaten for a day now. My last meal was breakfast at my apartment yesterday morning. I tucked in, hesitant at first. Well, it wasn’t a gourmet meal, but certainly edible. And filling.

When I was done I concentrated on my surroundings again. There weren’t many customers around at the moment. Just one man, or boy I should say, of twenty years or so. Unlike most modern guys, Egyptians of this age were already married and settled down.

The young man was a few inches shorter than me with well-trimmed black hair like most guys here. He was also bare-chested and quite fit. Not like someone who was actually doing much physical work, but someone who exercised regularly. Around his waist, he wore the usual linen, pleated and made of fine fabric. He sported some unobtrusive jewelry, which I thought suited him. I had to say, jewelry for men should become more of a thing in my time, too.

He walked along the cages, examining each inmate. The trader followed him, trying to keep a respectful distance but also close enough to read his customer’s eyes. As the young man reached my cage, he stopped and looked me over thoroughly. His face brightened and he turned to the trader.

“This one!” He pointed at me. “He doesn’t look too sturdy, but he has a really nice light skin tone. That’s quite noble, just what I need for a personal servant.”

The trader closely observed his customer’s reaction. “I’m glad you’re interested. This one is, however, the best slave I have right now. Three thousand deben copper should be a reasonable price.”

I couldn’t hold back a laugh. In actual fact, the trader was happy to find a buyer at all for me – the worst of his slaves. Which meant there was still a lot of room for negotiation regarding the price. The trader threw an angry look at me before continuing to lull his customer with a blissful smile.

“Alright, I take him.”

That came as a surprise. After all, my much more potent-looking neighbor only went for thirteen hundred deben. Well, I guess personal qualities did count. Although, if my buyer knew of my actual personal qualities… and I don’t just mean that small time-travel dilemma, but also my homosexuality. Something for which reputation was quite bad in ancient Egypt, given that such men didn’t produce children. Which was still the main purpose of an Egyptian, to have a large family.

The slave trader, baffled at first, seemed to have some qualms. “He is a good slave, I never had an issue with him. Yet you should know that the gods have cursed him with muteness. He understands our language, but cannot speak.”

“So much the better! That way he can’t divulge my secrets.”

The trader hadn’t thought of this aspect and was surely making a mental note for similar cases in the future. Now that both parties had agreed, he approached me to open the cage, his face sporting the smile of having made an amazing deal.

“Remember what I’ve told you,” he whispered as a final warning. Then he handed me off to my new master. “The name of your new slave is Ameniu. He originates from far north, beyond the sea.”

Surprisingly, the latter was true. It was unlikely though, that the trader actually believed it. He just didn’t want to admit that he had no clue about me.

---

“Let’s go, Ameniu. We will walk to my house and I’ll tell you about your duties on the way.”

As we were walking along the road next to each other, only the abundant jewelry gave away the difference of rank between us. My new master was called Imanuthep, as he told me right at the beginning. Family and friends just called him Manu. Up close he looked even more handsome. In another time with different circumstances, we could have been friends… or lovers. I shook my head. Reality couldn’t have been further from it.

“My father is a judge at the grand house of Thebes.”

Elisa chimed in, informing me that this grand house was somewhat comparable to a court of appeals.

“I work at the court, too. It’s a big task, but an honorable one. As my personal servant, you will basically be responsible for my physical and spiritual well-being.”

He must have caught my small frown because he smiled and added that I wouldn’t have to cook or do laundry.

“You will just be around in case I need you. You will also accompany me to most places. That way you can keep a watchful eye on people and surroundings when I am in a conversation. On one hand, it’s a shame you’re mute. But at least nobody can distract you with a conversation.”

I tried to make sense of this, but despite Manu’s explanations, it was still not clear to me what my actual tasks would be. It almost seemed he didn’t exactly know either. I was also keen on asking him why he had paid such a high price for me. But that wasn’t possible, nor would it have been smart, I guess.

While we were walking to his place, I took in the surroundings we passed. The roads were not paved but flattened by plenty of traffic. Clean they were not, making them uncomfortable to walk on with bare feet. However, I didn’t have my shoes anymore and it was usual to walk barefoot here anyways. It was only inside or on hot sand the Egyptians wore sandals.

A few blocks away an impressive building came into view. It was obviously a temple. The nearer we got the bigger the houses became and the more spacious the plots. I suppose wealthy people liked to live near their gods. It wasn’t long until we arrived in front of a two story building about the size of a modern European house. Just not as high. It also had a walk-on flat roof like all houses in the vicinity.

“Here we are,” Manu said.

I thought I heard a trace of pride in his voice. The property was enclosed by a shoulder-high wall, shielding the inhabitants from overly curious eyes. A lovely front garden opened up as we stepped through the gate. So it was true that Egyptians took pride in their gardens. I rejoiced to see this oasis of green after spending most of my recent hours in and amongst dry sand. Manu seemed genuinely happy about my admiration, claiming that the garden behind the house was even nicer.

“It’s not as big as my father’s mansion. His place is in the outskirts, though. There’s simply more room there. I, however, prefer to live in the center. You’re just more in the swim of things, you know.”

Sure, I understood. My parents and I had been living in a suburb as well until I moved out when I enrolled at university. I was drawn to the big city, too. Although I really enjoyed some quiet time at the lake as well, especially since I graduated and left the careless student life behind.

Stepping through the front door, we entered the first room. It was getting hot again outside, but in here it was still nice and cool. The room was small, only featuring a rack and a little table. I imagined it was only used to hold garments and have a place to put on your sandals. Manu did just that and quickly advanced to the next room.

“That’s the reception room. Here, I welcome guests and host dinners. Though when I’m alone, I prefer to eat on the roof terrace. It’s just more refreshing up there in the summer. I know, right now it’s still cool here, but it heats up pretty quickly.”

The reception room was not only bigger but also nicely done up. Besides a few relatively short chairs standing in pairs of two at small tables, there were colorful ornaments on the walls. The tables featured small clay vases with fresh flowers. I hardly had any time to process what I saw. Manu was already striding ahead to continue the tour.

“Further back there is the kitchen, you’ll surely meet my cook soon. In the basement, there are craft and storage rooms, but we don’t need to go there now either.”

Between the reception room and kitchen was a staircase. My guide climbed the stairs to the second floor. Upstairs, we crossed a long hallway.

“My study is to the left.”

We entered the room and I stopped in surprise. It was longer than it was wide and had five small windows on the long side opposite the door. The other three sides were full of long racks stuffed with papyrus scrolls. This room was more of a library than a study, with a large table, probably for reading the scrolls. A few of them were rolled out on it. In the right corner of the room, however, mats and cushions were lying on the floor. So it was possible to relax here, too. Manu had noticed my surprise. He seemed to be happy about it – or amused by it, I wasn’t quite certain.

“The scrolls to the left contain records of some of my father’s old cases. He gave them to me to study. The ones to the right contain my own current and past cases. You see it’s still a little empty. After all, I’ve only been working at court for a few years now. On the long side opposite the window, I store general writings. There are texts about law, medicine, history, but also novels and poetry. As a scribe, it comes in handy to have your own collection of writings.”

Being able to read and write was a privilege back then and could not be taken for granted. Higher careers were only open to those who could. So children of wealthy parents were always sent to school, boys as well as girls. For middle-class craftsmen, at least some of the boys learned to write.

Suddenly a voice echoed from the floor.

“Manu, to whom are you talking to there? Do we have a visitor?”

A young woman – a girl rather, perhaps seventeen years old, entered the room.

“I almost forgot!” Manu chimed in. “May I introduce you to my new personal servant, Ameniu. Remember I told you this morning that I wanted to get someone. Ameniu, this is Naha, my wife.”

Of course Manu had a wife, maybe even children. I was surprised though about how young she was. But that was just the norm here. From what I’ve read, girls were married off starting at thirteen or fourteen years old. Naha looked a little irritated at first, so I quickly bowed to her. I wasn’t sure this was usual here, but it seemed better than to do nothing. After all, I was barred from just speaking a friendly ‘Hello’.

“Be welcome in our home. Amun shall strengthen you for you to wait well on my dear husband.”

Was it just the way Elisa translated how Naha welcomed me or did she actually choose to sound more formal? It was a disadvantage not to speak the language directly. I had to rely on Elisa properly conveying all the fine nuances of human verbal skills. At least I was able to determine the tone of a voice. And hers sounded friendly but reserved. About how you’d expect in a conversation with underlings like me.

“You don’t look as if you were born in this realm. Where are you from?” She asked me in the same tone.

As much as I would have liked to answer her – not truthfully of course – I couldn’t. I had already committed myself to the awkward position of muteness. The alternative would have been claiming to just barely speak the language, which my undoubtfully bad pronunciation had supported. Yet, it was too late for that. So I remained silent, looking to Manu for help.

“He’s from up north beyond the sea,” he answered for me.

“And he can’t even speak for himself, can he? Pray tell servant, are you timid in the presence of a lady?” she asked, somewhat amused.

“He can’t answer, Naha, because he is mute. The gods have denied him the gift of speech.”

Her face switched from amused back to irritated, more so than before.

“I don’t understand, Manu. What use do you have for him then? Especially as a personal servant. You just told me about this idea this morning and you’re already coming home with this one in the afternoon. Have you made your pick too early again? Where did you even find someone this quickly?”

“Take it easy, Naha. I just bought him from the slave trader on the market.”

She winced, an expression of disbelief on her face. “What?! You make a slave your personal servant? There are so many honorable Egyptians of lower standing who would fight for this position.”

“Listen, I don’t want somebody local who knows everybody and is known to everybody. Ameniu is just the one I need. Also, this is a business decision that should not concern you. No need to run everyone down.”

Naha turned around, throwing a final angry look at her husband before leaving the room.

I guess I just witnessed an Egyptian marital dispute. Despite being a good three thousand years before our time, it didn’t go down very differently to its modern equivalent. I would have liked to apologize to Manu for the trouble he was having with his wife. Instead of using words I put on a concerned face and gestured accordingly.

He sighed once Naha had left. “No need to apologize, Ameniu. She can be difficult at times. We’ve been married for a year now and she isn’t pregnant yet. That worries her because people will start gossiping if the next few months don’t bring a change in that regard.”

Manu turned away from the window he had been staring out of and walked to the door.

“Anyways, enough of that. Come, I’ll show you the third floor. This floor has nothing but my study and Naha’s room. And that one we better avoid for now.”

As we approached the stairs to the next floor, Elisa chimed in.

“Warning! The maximum load of this staircase is below the permissible threshold as per EU directive 1-274-B.”

I almost laughed out loud, which wouldn’t have gone well with the whole mute thing.

“Well, I’ll have to live with that, Elisa. We’re not in the EU here, after all. As long as it isn’t in acute danger of collapsing, you don’t need to tell me,” I replied silently.

We reached the third floor safe and sound. The stairs really didn’t look fragile.

Instead of a long corridor like on the second floor, we were welcomed by a spacious room. On each of the three other walls there was a passageway leading to further rooms.

“This is the private living area,” Manu explained. More of those cozy cushions and mats could be found here. The Egyptians seemed to love them. Also, the walls were decorated with drawings.

“Straight ahead is the bathroom. I even had a toilet installed!”

Toilets in ancient Egypt had little in common with their modern counterparts. Mainly, because there was no sewer system yet, not even septic tanks. The seat was a box made of limestone or wood with a hole in the center. A clay pot was put inside below the hole. After using the contraption, you’d sprinkle sand in the hole.

“To the left are stairs up to the roof terrace. And my bedroom is to the right.”

He turned that way and walked through the passageway. I followed, entering a small room about ten by thirteen feet in size.

“That’s the vestibule of my bedroom. You will sleep there.”

I was surprised. I was supposed to sleep here in front of his bedroom? Didn’t he have separate quarters for servants or something like that?

He must have noticed my surprise, because he quickly added: “I want you to always be around me in case I need something. Also, you’ll help me dress in the morning, putting on the jewelry and so on. And lastly, the servant’s dorm room is already rather full.”

I was on board for sure. Lying in a basement with who-knows-how-many other bodies was not an exhilarating thought.

We turned around and Manu showed me the bathroom and the roof terrace. The former was rather a washroom, as there wasn’t any running water, of course. At least there was a sink in the floor, allowing spilled water to drain. There also wasn’t a real mirror either, rather a polished metal plate, showing some resemblance of one’s reflection.

The roof terrace, on the other hand, was beautiful. It was home to a few flowers and further seating. A linen sheet was suspended between four wooden sticks, providing a good amount of shade. The edge was only protected by a small railing that didn’t look so sturdy. I stayed clear to keep Elisa from digging up some directive about railing heights.

“It’s time for lunch, I’d say! Let’s go back downstairs. I'll dine in the garden today. It’s still fresh and cool there.”

So we descended the three stairs again to the ground floor. There another servant was waiting for her master. “Lunch is served, Sir. In the pavilion as ordered.”

“Good, Jahna. This is my new personal servant, Ameniu. Go show him the kitchen and give him something to eat. And introduce him to the others.”

This time Manu prevented any possible confusion about my lack of chattiness. “Also, he’s mute. Meaning he understands everything you say, but can’t answer.”

Jahna looked confused, but hurried to bow in front of her master. I did the same. For some reason I wanted to make a good impression. Whether on Jahna, on Manu, or both – I wasn’t sure. In fact, it felt awkward to play the mute guy, but it had been the easiest solution.

While our master walked towards the garden, I followed the maid to the kitchen. There, two other servants were amidst final preparations for today’s lunch. From the looks of it, beef with steamed leeks and salad was on the menu. My mouth was watering, having had nothing to eat since the meager mush this morning.

Jahna introduced me to the two girls. They were curious and probably would have asked a thousand questions, if Jahna hadn’t quickly mentioned my small disability. She also ordered one of them in a commanding tone to prepare a meal for me. I got the feeling the atmosphere was usually more relaxed. Now, however, Jahna was keen to show her position here, making clear the kitchen was her responsibility and her’s alone.

“There you go!” One of the cooks handed me a bowl. It had some bread, remains of salad, and a few too chewy pieces of meat. I also received a jug of beer. I should have guessed that servants weren’t getting the same opulent and costly meals as their master. At least, it was better than grey mud mush.

I didn’t know where to go to eat, so I just sat down in a corner of the kitchen. I ate my humble meal with my fingers. Cutlery wasn’t a thing here, even the Pharaoh dined with his hands. I took a swig of beer. It felt nice and cold running down my dry throat. And it tasted surprisingly good albeit different than modern brews.

Meanwhile, Jahna carried the dishes of Manu’s meal outside. I wondered why he didn’t eat together with his wife. Was she still upset with him because of their argument earlier?

I sat back, watching the busy goings-on in the kitchen. The next course was being prepared. A dessert in the form of a fruit platter with figs, dates, and grapes.

A few minutes later I finished my meal, leaving me with greasy hands. I returned the bowl to the cook who had given it to me and showed her my open palms in an inquiring way. She got it and pointed towards a clay pot in a corner. Having cleaned my hands, I left the kitchen.

Once through the door, I stopped though, not knowing where to go. Outside, to Manu? Maybe not such a good idea. He’d call for me if he wanted something.

The small passageway connecting kitchen and reception room also had a junction to the right. It led to a small staircase down to the basement. Although Manu had mentioned we didn’t need to go there, I was curious to see that part of the house, and decided to have a look.

At the bottom of the staircase I found myself in a vault. The ceiling was so low I almost couldn’t stand upright. Then again, I was quite a bit taller than all the Egyptians I’d met so far.

The rooms down there were placed linearly, one after the other. I assumed the whole space was dug out as one big rectangle and the walls were inserted later to separate different rooms. The one I was standing in now was some kind of workshop. Various tools were scattered around, probably to be used for smaller repairs on the house and furniture. A loom was standing in one corner, waiting for a skilled user to weave new linen. Right now, though, nobody else was down here.

I advanced to the next room. It was a storage chamber. Besides grain, it held barrels of beer and wine, as well as fruit, vegetables, and dried meat. I enjoyed the mixture of aromas and also the cooler temperature in the basement.

The third and final room turned out to be the servant’s dorm room. There were no beds, in contrast to the master bedroom. Just a few mats on the floor – which led me to the conclusion that I would be sleeping on a mat like this, too. What irony that my bed in Geneva was probably three times as comfortable as Manu’s bed in this time. Well, hopefully I would be able to find some sleep. If not, perhaps Elisa had a sleeping drug in her repertoire.

There wasn’t anything more to see in the small room that had space for at most six people. I turned around and walked back to the staircase. Halfway I almost ran into Jahna. She raised her voice in the reprimanding tone of a stern monarch.

“There you are! What are you doing down here anyways?! The master asked for you. He’s in the garden waiting. Hurry up!”

She didn’t need to tell me twice. I slipped past the portly woman and up the stairs, stepping into the garden a moment later.

I was welcomed by an impressive green landscape. High walls covered with grapevines protected the space from outside view. Several different trees, of which I could only identify one palm tree, provided plenty of shade. Even a small pond could be found in the center, ten feet in diameter and lined by white and red lotus flowers. They formed an oasis in the middle of the desert, a haven of tranquility in the heart of the town, and a place of privacy and relaxation.

A small pavilion with a grapevine-covered roof stood on four pillars next to the pond. There, Manu was sitting at a table. The main course was already gone, replaced by the fruit plate.

“Come, sit down here, Ameniu.”

I wasn’t opposed to that at all, given that Manu was much friendlier than Jahna. And, by the way, more handsome as well. I took a seat across from him.

“How do you like my garden?”

I nodded, trying to express appreciation.

“I’m glad. Everybody has liked it so far. Go ahead and take some fruit, they’re good.”

I nodded again, this time to thank him, and took a few dates and grapes. They were indeed tasty.

“The grapes are organic.”

I paused, holding back a laugh. I don’t think organic would be the correct translation for what he wanted to say. Maybe home-grown would fit?

Manu let his eyes wander across the garden, lost in thought. A whiff of the smell he exuded reached my nose. It appears the Egyptians already used perfume.

“Sometimes I wish I could just travel somewhere far away. Discover new countries, see the world. Yes, of course, I have a good position here and there should be no reason to leave my hometown. To the contrary, I must take care of my family when my father gets too old to work. But it’s also my family that troubles me, to be precise Naha troubles me.”

I listened attentively. The mute were by nature good listeners.

“All she talks about is sons and daughters and how many of them she’d like. If it were up to me, I’d have none! But that can’t be, it would be unacceptable for a family and a scandal for my wife.”

He sighed. “You can’t suit everybody in life. Maybe I just need some time out. If there’s nothing on my schedule in court tomorrow, we’ll go out hunting in the desert.”