| |
Imi slipped through the darkened lanes, keeping close to the houses. A cloud cover had blocked out the moon and the sliver of light that were usually visible all night on the horizon this time of year. Thank goodness the beige, mud-brick homes reflected what little light there was, otherwise it would be impossible to see where she was going. It didn't help that the head wrap she wore kept slipping down over her right eye. Her head itched under it, too, and she stopped now and then to wedge a finger under the wrap to scratch her temple.
She steered clear of the taverns, hoping to avoid lecherous men on their way home in the early morning hours. Yes, she had her disguise, but that wasn't much protection against people up to no good. She clutched a thick stick she'd picked up after sneaking out of Betrest's house. It might come in handy to carry some sort of weapon in case she came across trouble.
Imi was too nervous to ever make a great thief. But how hard could this really be? She needed her perfumes and incense from her father's house, and there was no other way to go about it. The hour was late. Nehesy was out with his friends, and Betrest, Amun, and their children had all retired for the night. Ludim and his mother ought to be abed also.
And Imi didn't need to break into the actual house. Just the workshop in the back yard. There wasn't even a lock.
Climb over the wall, load the supplies into a box, and climb back out. Simple enough, right?
Of course, if she were caught... Ludim might try to force himself on her again. Or detain her in the house until she was forced to marry him. He was all kinds of horrible, and Imi didn't want to think about him.
She just wouldn't get caught.
There it was, finally, looming before her. The house she'd grown up in. The house that was no longer hers. A narrow, two-story home with a staircase along the side of it, surrounded by a high stone wall. There was a gate at the back leading into the courtyard, but it squeaked something awful. If she tried using that anyone nearby would hear.
Picking up her pace, she headed around back of the house. The lane was wide here, and the neighbours' houses several paces away. She stopped in front of the wall that was as high as her eyebrows.
Something scuffled nearby, and she froze, her eyes darting about.
Silence reigned.
Her heart faltered. Don't let it be Ludim.
She slowly turned to study the shadows. Nothing moved in or near the houses with their dark windows, or the tall doum palm and leafy sycamore trees. No breeze ruffled the leaves. Night sounds grew louder as Imi clenched her fists at her sides. Crickets whirred. Frogs croaked. A baby cried in one of the neighbouring houses.
Then, she caught a hint of something in the air. Myrrh mixed with gum, sandalwood steeped in castor oil, a trace of incense. She breathed in deep. Her body instinctively relaxed as relief swept through her.
"Nehesy?" she said in a loud whisper. "Is that you?"
"Really, Sprout, if you're going to make a habit of sneaking around at night, you ought to at least try to be a little stealthier," a voice drawled softly.
Where was he? Her gaze settled on a tree just a few paces away. There. A long lean figure lounged against the trunk, beneath the canopy of branches. Noticeable only because his white shenti caught the light when a cloud shifted past some stars, offering a sliver of silvery brightness.
Then the shadow detached itself and stalked towards her.
Her relief at seeing Nehesy and not Ludim – or someone equally nefarious – equaled her irritation. "Have you been following me?" she hissed.
He came to stand before her, forcing her to look up, up, up. Or stare at his chest, which was lovely and all but very distracting right now. A line had formed between his drawn brows. He looked a little angry, or pensive. She couldn't really tell in the dark.
"Since my sister's house," he answered. "I saw you sneaking out and figured you were up to something."
He'd been very quiet. Or she'd been very oblivious. Annoyed with herself for not noticing him, she clicked her tongue. "Go away, Nehesy. I'm busy."
Ignoring his amused huff, she turned to study the wall. The tree Nehesy had been leaning against was, conveniently, the one she'd been planning to climb. It had a long, thick limb that leaned out over the wall, and she could shimmy along it and drop down into the courtyard.
"What are you doing here?" He spoke quietly near her ear. He'd moved so that his chest was almost touching her back. She could feel the added heat against her robe.
"None of your affair," she whispered over her shoulder. In truth, she was glad he was here. Knowing he'd been looking out for her warmed her insides, and made her feel safer, in retrospect. Of course, it would have helped if he'd revealed himself sooner, but she realized he'd probably kept silent in order to sneak up and surprise her. Which had worked.
Damn Horus's hairy, sweaty balls. Nehesy knew how to get under her skin in so many ways.
Despite all that, she didn't really want him to leave.
He muttered something, and she whipped around. "What did you say?" It sounded like he'd said she needed a wild animal tamer, not a husband.
"Never mind, Sprout. You're not really going to do what I think you're going to do, are you?"
"My name is Imi," she groused, striding towards the tree and reaching for the lowest branch to pull herself up. But Nehesy cut in front of her at the last moment, and she bumped into him as he caught her wrist. She put her hand on his chest to steady herself, and her fingers seemed to like it there, so she let them stay. She also stayed close to Nehesy. Another practical idea, really, since they were shadowed by the tree and less likely to be noticed by anyone passing by.
"Really, Imi," Nehesy's voice was low and serious now. "What are you doing here?"
She shrugged one shoulder. "I need some supplies from my workshop. It's not like Ludim or his mother will let me pick them up."
"You can't just buy more?"
She waved her free hand. "You of all people should know it's not that easy. There are things in there that aren't readily available elsewhere. Cinnamon, perfume vials, lettuce oil, and such." Nor could she afford them. And she needed a lot more to pay her workers than she could reasonably ask Nehesy or anyone else to lend her. Even if she managed to sell an elephant's weight in incense and perfumes, she still might not have enough to pay the labourers to dig her trenches.
Nehesy closed his eyes and shook his head, exasperation written all over his face. "I don't know how I get roped into these things with you."
"You followed me. I didn't ask for your help."
He chuckled, his chest rising and falling under her touch. "And yet you absolutely need it. Come on, let's get this over with."
Relief had her fingers curling more tightly over his collarbone, but she said, "If you insist on coming along, at least be quiet." His teeth flashed a grin, and she ruthlessly stamped down the answering flutter in her belly.
The wall was too tall even for Nehesy to easily scale, so they stuck to her plan of climbing the tree. The clouds had turned to wisps, allowing some starlight to illuminate the night. They both slipped off their sandals. Nehesy went first, shimmying along the thick limb hanging over the wall to make sure there was nothing on the other side. He stayed on the far end of the limb and beckoned Imi over.
Imi tucked the hem of her robe up into her belt so it wouldn't snag on a branch, and so she could move more freely. But when she reached for the first branch to pull herself up, she found herself struggling.
"What's wrong?" Nehesy whispered from above. He'd backed up to watch her.
Imi grunted. "It's been a while since I climbed a tree." About seven years, in fact. Apparently, she was heavier and weaker than her thirteen-year-old self. Bark dug into the tender flesh of her palms as she struggled to haul her weight up. Nehesy made a soft whuffing sound, laid flat against the limb, stretched down one long, muscled arm, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her up. Her bare feet grappled for purchase along the tree trunk, her head wrap got caught on a twig and slipped down over her eyes. She hissed a curse.
But Nehesy held on, steadying her until her toes settled on a limb, and her free hand latched onto a branch. He let her go, and she righted her headwrap before nodding for him to move along. One by one, they made their way along the branch and dropped down into the sandy ground in the courtyard behind the house. The yard contained a brick oven, used on days when it was too hot to bake inside, and – tucked into the corner just a few feet's length from the wall – the brick hut Imi and her father had used as a workshop. Jasmine twined up the walls, its sweet perfume filling the air.
Imi went straight for the workshop, pulled open the door, and was met by a familiar cloud of scent. A mixture of jasmine, orange and lotus blossoms, sandalwood, myrrh, and more. She breathed in deep, a wave of sadness washing over her as her skin tingled with memories of all the times she'd spent out here with her father, and her brother, too, before he passed away. Although her father hadn’t been terribly affectionate, he'd been indulgent and kind. He'd allowed her to work alongside him and had listened to her opinions and ideas.
Perhaps that was why it hurt so much that he hadn't trusted her to manage the work on her own. She'd thought he believed in her talent and believed her equal to a man. She'd tried so hard to replace her brother, Altakhsas, to lessen her father's loss – and her own.
"Do you have a lantern?" Nehesy murmured, drawing her attention to the fact that the workshop was completely black inside. It had two small windows, one facing the courtyard wall, and one on the opposite side looking into the courtyard. But the clouds were thickening again and blocking out the light.
"There's flax oil inside." Imi felt her way along the wall just inside the door until her fingers grazed the table with a ceramic bowl for flaxseed oil. Sometimes she got an idea for a fragrance combination while laying in bed at night and would come out here to work in the dark. She found the bit of flint there, too, struck a flame, and lit the wick floating in the bowl of flax oil.
Lambent light danced across the wall, revealing the many ceramic jars, woven baskets, and wooden crates containing a wide array of oils, resins, herbs, and other ingredients. The tools of her trade were arranged on two narrow tables pushed against the wall.
Imi set about gathering things into a crate. She had a supply of incense, perfume, and soaps ready for sale, and those went into the crate first. Then it was the rarer ingredients, and finally waxes, oils, and resins.
Turning a small circle, Imi surveyed the space. What else could she shove into the crate? Another surge of sadness rolled over her. Would this be the last time she ever looked upon her father's workshop?
"Come on, Sprout," Nehesy whispered. "We should get out of here." He'd been standing guard by the door, watching the back door to the house and the gate into the courtyard.
With one last glance about, Imi accepted it was time to go. She reached for the crate but couldn't lift it far. Nehesy grabbed the container from her, took it outside, and hefted it up near the overhanging tree limb. The crate thumped as it landed on the top of the thick brick wall.
They both froze and glanced about. A lucky thing, since in the silence Imi heard footsteps on the other side of the wall, a little distance away.
"Oooh your eyes... they're like the moon..." a man's voice crooned. A poor, drunken attempt at singing.
Imi and Nehesy turned to one another, wide-eyed. Imi’s heart sped, and a shiver ran down her spine. Ludim, she mouthed to Nehesy.
Imi and Nehesy were tucked into the space between the hut and the wall, shielded from anyone out on the lane or even in the courtyard. Not the worst position to be in. Nehesy motioned for her to stay put, and they both flattened themselves against the hut's wall, waiting for the person to pass by outside.
The footsteps grew closer, the singing grew louder.
Imi had no idea what would happen if they were caught, but whatever it was, it wouldn't be good. That's when she realized the wick was still burning in the workshop and the door was left open. The light flickered through the window next to her head, illuminating the wall in front of her and Nehesy.
A string of silent curses streamed through Imi's head. She was closest to the door. It faced the back of the house, away from the gate. If she could just slip in there and pinch out the light... Ignoring Nehesy's frantic head shaking, she ran around the side of the workshop and ducked inside just as the courtyard gate creaked open.
"My heart is in your eyes... your eyes... are like the mooooon..." Ludim trod heavily into the courtyard, the gate squealing a protest behind him.
Imi singed her fingers on the flame, plunging the workshop into darkness. It was too late to sneak back out to Nehesy, and she couldn't close the door completely without making noise. She managed to pull it almost totally shut but was afraid to move further back in the workshop. She'd moved things about in her haste earlier, and for all she knew there could be heavy jugs on the floor right behind her. Knowing her clumsy self, she'd crash into them, and then she'd be caught.
Through the narrow window, she could see that the clouds were dispersing, and Ludim was weaving across the yard. Imi squatted down and made herself as small as possible, wrapping her arms about her knees and tucking her head down. Then she realized her white head wrap might make her more conspicuous, and she ripped it off, dragging her hair over her face to cover her skin.
"Oh the moon, my love... is like my itching balls, hehehe," Ludim snickered. His palm slapped the workshop wall and Imi jerked, risking a glance up. Ludim's ugly, hateful face loomed by the window.
But he was looking down, thank Hathor, not inside.
"Hehehe," he gave a malicious chuckle, "Take that," followed by a pattering sound. Oh for the love of Bes, he was actually urinating on the side of the workshop. Her workshop.
He threw his head back and slurred, "Your hair, your hair... buuurraap," he let out a belch, another snicker, and then continued his endless pissing.
Really, how long could it go on for? Imi fought both indignation and the ridiculous, untimely urge to laugh. Ludim was disgusting and awful. How she hated him.
Finally, he fell silent and began to shuffle forward.
Then, "Whassat? Who's there?"
Imi hugged herself tight and made herself as small as possible.
Footsteps grew closer, and then the door swung open.