"He called me a cat," Merytra hissed through her white teeth to her
companion. "Well, if so, Sekhet the cat-headed is my godmother, and she
is the Lady of Vengeance."
"Yes," answered the other, "and he said that we were both ugly--we, whom
every lord who comes near the Court admires so much! Oh! I wish a holy
crocodile would eat him, black pig!"
"Then why don't they buy us? Abi would sell his daughters, much more his
fan-bearers--at a price."
"Because they hope to get us for nothing, my dear, and what is more,
if I can manage it one of them shall, for I am tired of this life. Have
your fling while you can, I say. Who knows at which corner Osiris, Lord
of Death, is waiting."
"Hush!" whispered Merytra, "there is that knave of an astrologer, and he
looks cross, too."
Then, hand in hand, they went to this lean and learned man and humbly
bowed themselves before him.
"Master of the Stars," said Merytra, "we have a message for you. No, do
not look at my cheek, please, the marks are not magical, only those of
the divine fingers of the glorious hand of the most exalted Prince Abi,
son of the Pharaoh happily ruling in Osiris, etc.
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