“Here we are. It isn’t much to speak of, but I spend most of my days here and find the rooms quite pleasant.”
Mahu scanned his workshop with fresh eyes. What would it look like to Daka? An airy space with white-washed walls and life-sized paintings of the gods for company. Tables lined in a row, each for various stages of the process. Wooden chairs and stepstools. Stacks upon stacks of paper. Four huge bins of the fresh plants he and Sebek harvested yesterday. Mahu hadn’t yet begun to strip them.
Daka’s gaze traveled the same path as his own, his clever eyes taking it all in. “Your shop has the most wonderful smell.”
Mahu chuckled. “Yes, it’s the plants. I enjoy their scent too.”
“You carry it with you on your skin like cologne.” Daka closed his eyes and sucked in a breath through his nose. His lids fluttered open. “Only better.”
Mahu’s nape warmed at the words, but he didn’t know what to say. The way Daka spoke was disarming. Unlike normal polite conversation, but certainly not rude. Just open in a way Mahu had never experienced.
Mahu hid a cough behind his hand, then cleared his throat. “Would you like to learn how a scroll is made?”
Daka’s lips parted. “Please.”
Gesturing to the bushels of plants, Mahu plucked a tall stalk from the pile and handed it to Daka. This bunch had stems as long as a man’s leg.
Daka turned the branch in his hands.
“That is how it comes from the marsh or the river. The tassel of greenery at the top will be cut off. Then the outer bark stripped with a shearing knife. Inside, the pith is cut to strips, and those are used to make the paper.”
“Will you show me?”
“Of course.” Mahu chose a second stem. “Then you can try for yourself.”
“Really?”
“Why not?”
Daka grimaced. “I might mess it up.”
Mahu chuckled as he selected two blades. “You will most definitely mess it up, Nedjes. Stripping the pith takes practice. But there is more papyrus plant available to harvest than we need in all of Naukratis, so you may mess up as much as you like.”
Daka’s reluctance brightened to a grin. “You called me Nedjes.”
“I did. Would you prefer I hadn’t?”
The grin remained. “It means tiny.”
“You are shorter than me.”
Daka arched his brows. “Only by a little.”
Mahu stepped in and stood straight so his full head of height over Daka couldn’t be ignored. “You’re right. Hardly a difference at all.”
“Mahu, are you flirting with me?” asked Daka with a joyful grin.
Mahu felt heat rise to his cheeks.
Daka’s melodious laughter filled the room. He let the question go unanswered and leaned in close enough for Mahu to feel his warmth. “All right. Maybe height isn’t one of my gifts, but I’m quite skilled with my hands.” He took the blade from Mahu; their fingers touched and lingered. “Show me what to do, and you may call me whatever you like.”
A shiver trembled its way down Mahu’s spine. He took a chair and gestured for Daka to take the one beside him. Holding the reed low and centered with one hand, he lopped off the tassel with the other.
Daka copied the movement. A second tassel joined the first on the ground. “So far so good.”
Mahu neatly stripped one entire length of the outer shell from the core. Papyri were three sided. If cut into slices, their shape resembled the sacred pyramids.
Daka dug the blade in too hard and took off some of the inner pith along with the outer bark. “Oh dear. Well, that wasn’t quite right.”
