The Yoke Part 33

Hotep frowned and gave over any hope that Kenkenes would join the merrymaking that night. But at that moment, Ta-meri, who sat facing the entrance to the chamber, poised the dice-box in air and drew in a long breath. The guests followed her eyes.

Kenkenes stood in the doorway, the curtain thrust aside and above him.

His voluminous festal robes were deeply edged with gold, but his arms, bare to the shoulder, and his strong brown neck were without their usual trappings of jewels. The omission seemed intentional, as if the young man had meant to contrast the ornament of young strength and grace with the glitter and magnificence of the other guests. He had succeeded well.

Perhaps to most of those present, the young man's presence was not unusual, but Hotep was not blind to a manifest alteration in his manner. There was cynicism in the corners of his mouth, and a hint of hurt or temper was evident in the tension of his nostril and the brilliance of his eyes. Hotep had no need of seers and astrologers, for his perception served him in all tangible things. He knew something untoward had set Kenkenes to thinking about himself, and guessing where the young artist had gone that evening, he surmised further how he had been received.

And though he was sorry in his heart for his friend's unhappiness, he confessed his admiration for Rachel.

"Late," cried Hotep, rising.

"Thy pardon, Hotep," Kenkenes replied, advancing into the chamber, "I had an errand of much importance to Masaarah and it was fruitless. It shall trouble me no more."

Hotep lifted his brows, as though he exclaimed to himself, and made no answer. Kenkenes greeted the guests with a wave of his hand and did obeisance before Rameses.

"Thou speakest of Masaarah, my Kenkenes," the crown prince commented after the salutation, "and it suggests an inquiry I would make of thee.

Dost thou go on as sculptor, or wilt thou follow thy father into the art of building?"

"Since the Pharaoh chose for my father, he shall choose for me also."

"Nay, the Pharaoh did not choose," Rameses objected dryly. "It was I."

"Of a truth? Then thou shalt choose for me, O my generous Prince."

"Follow thy father. I would have thee for my murket. Nay, it is ever so. I mold the Pharaoh and he gets the credit."

"And thou, the blame, when blame accrues from the molding," Menes put in very distinctly, though under his breath.

"But be thou of cheer, O Son of the Sun," Kenkenes added. "When thou art Pharaoh, thou canst retaliate upon thine own heir, in the same fas.h.i.+on."

"Thou givest him tardy comfort, O Son of Mentu," Siptah commented with an unpleasant laugh. "He will lose all recollection of the grudge, waiting so long."

Rameses turned his heavy eyes toward the speaker, but Kenkenes halted any remark the prince might have made.

"Nay, let it pa.s.s," he said placidly, dropping into a chair. "All this savors too much of the future and is out of place in the happy improvidence of the present."

"Let it all pa.s.s?" Ta-user asked. "Nay, I would hold the prince to the promise he made a moment agone, when the choosing of the new murket comes round again."

"Do thou so, for me, then, when that time comes," Kenkenes interrupted.

Ta-user laughed very softly and delivered the young artist a level look of understanding from her topaz eyes. "I fear thou art indeed improvident," she continued, "if thou leavest thy future to others."

"Then all the world is improvident, since it belongeth to others to shape every man's future. But Hotep, the lawgiver, denies this thing.

He holds that every man builds for himself."

"Right, Hotep!" Rameses exclaimed. "It was such belief that made a world-conqueror of my grandsire."

"Nay, thy pardon, O my Prince. Hotep's counsel will not always hold,"

Kenkenes objected.

"Give me to know wherein it faileth," the prince demanded.

"Alas! in a thousand things. In truth a man even draws his breath by the leave of others."

"By the puny G.o.d, Harpocrates!" the prince cried, scoffing. "That is the weakest avowal I have heard in a moon!"

Kenkenes flushed, and Rameses, recovering from his amus.e.m.e.nt, pressed his advantage.

"Let me give thee a bit of counsel from mine own store that thou mayest look with braver eyes on life. Take the world by the throat and it will do thy will."

"Again I dispute thee, O Rameses."

"Name thy witness," the prince insisted. Kenkenes leaned on his elbow toward him.

"Canst thou force a woman to love thee?" he asked simply.

Ta-user glanced at the prince and the sleepy black eyes of the heir narrowed.

"Let us get back to the issue," he said. "We spoke of others shaping the future of men. You may not force a woman to love you, but no love or lack of love of a woman should misshape the destiny of any man."

"That is a matter of difference in temperament, my Prince," Ta-user put in.

"It may be, but it is the expression of mine own ideas," he answered roughly.

The lashes of the princess were smitten down immediately and Siptah's canine teeth glittered for a moment, one set upon the other. Kenkenes patted his sandal impatiently and looked another way. His gaze fell on Io. She had lost interest in the game. The color had receded from her cheeks and now and again her lips trembled. Kenkenes looked and saw that Seti's eyes were adoring Ta-user, who smiled at him. With a sudden rush of heat through his veins, the young artist turned again to Io, and watched till he caught her eye. With a look he invited her to come to him. She laid down the dice, during the momentary abstraction of her playing-mates, and murmuring that she was tired, came and sat at the feet of her champion.

"Wherefore dost thou retreat, Io?" Ta-user asked. "Art vanquished?"

"At one game, aye!" the girl replied vehemently.

Kenkenes laid his hand on her head and said to her very softly:

"If only our pride were spared, sweet Io, defeat were not so hard."

The girl lifted her face to him with some questioning in her eyes.

"Knowest thou aught of this game, in truth?" she asked.

He smiled and evaded. "I have not been fairly taught."

Ta-meri gathered up the stakes and Nechutes, collecting the dice, went to find her a seat. But while he was gone, she wandered over to Kenkenes and leaned on the back of his chair.

"Let me give thee a truth that seemeth to deny itself in the expression," Io said, turning so that she faced the young artist.

"Say on," he replied, bending over her.

"The more indifferent the teacher in this game of love, the sooner you learn," said Io. Kenkenes took the tiny hand extended toward him in emphasis and kissed it.

"Sorry truth!" he said tenderly. As he leaned back in his chair he became conscious of Ta-meri's presence and turned his head toward her.