Heart of the Lotus

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Heart of the Lotus Page 7

by Mary R Woldering


  “You men out there. Your Great Lady commands. Attend this fire. There is a chill.” She clapped a long and short signal, then indicated the low brazier filled with whitened coals when the men entered.

  Her brother had brought it in to keep himself warm at night. Today, she used it to toast the spices and incenses to make a cloud for her own spiritual protection.

  Khentie watched the elder’s eyes carefully as the men brought the fire up.

  My brother even came to believe you caused father’s illness and with that thing you wear on your hand… Will you now try to lay your hands on me and charm me? Even Wse… Khentkawes suddenly realized she had let her irritation show too much.

  “Wse…” Hordjedtef began with a grin. “Do continue, Your Majesty. “Your Wse has always been right, but truth and the protection of it are his sacred duties just as they are mine. We are of the wise, but that wisdom often makes a person dangerous. Is that what you were thinking? That I am dangerous to one yet unready for the weight of the sekemti?”

  She shuddered inwardly as she watched his self-satisfaction turn flippant, then sympathetic as she let her anguish show.

  “I do know living apart from him has been rigorous for you; a thing you never dreamed would happen. But, it has, and soon he will replace me as Great One; just as you must now live your destined role as Great Wife, Daughter of the god.” He waited for her to respond.

  Khentie felt the air rush out of her body in near despair.

  Bastard. You want me to believe this is by design of the gods. What gods? You, when you appointed yourself god under the guise of comfort? Shepsesi never expected to be king. I never expected to be Great Wife. So now that two households are in ruins we must build another? It doesn’t matter that I’ve been beloved of Wse for enough years to raise two sons to manhood. It doesn’t matter that ShepsisKhet has his chosen prophetess whom he loves and that she now after so many fruitless years expects a child. Duty to god is duty by right of sacred birth, and now I must cleave to my brother, live apart from my beloved, and never discover the truths we loved to uncover together? She rubbed her arms in the chill that came from the elder’s stare and realized he was waiting for her to say something aloud.

  “It is as it should be then, and I accept it,” her eyelids fluttered in attempt to distract him but her thoughts raced: I must find a way of getting him out of here before I burst and slap him like I would a beat a naughty maid. She opened her eyes and spoke aloud:

  “The transition of the Lord Inspector to your post is going well, I trust?” Khentie rediscovered her hidden and disarming smile. At least, forcing you into retirement and seeing you return to your estate in Nekhen will help improve the air I’m forced to breathe.

  Hordjedtef cleared his throat and waved away the attendants who had finished with the brazier. Khentie knew his taking the liberty of dismissing them meant he had matters of a more personal nature to bring up. Now she felt truly ill.

  “I have but a few more things to impart to him, but…”

  Oh, he dares not. I could order him from my presence; state that I feel ill, but he would only try to minister to me. At that moment, Khentie noticed the red spark that glimmered in the elder’s eyes. She imagined the shape of an ibis beginning to overtake the Great One; his hooked nose becoming a beak. She blinked once, reciting the inner thought: I refute this vision. Hordjedtef resembled an old man again.

  “But, you have asked yourself, why is he not fully prepared as the days until the king rises quickly approach?” he added. “As you well know, my Great Lady, I have observed him battle with a few weaknesses in recent months; issues with his obedience to the laws of Ma-at.”

  “Do stop, Highness,” she groaned in disgust, put the last of the golden bulls into the waiting basket, and tugged a basket containing golden dishes and onyx trenchers. “If you mean to speak to me of the sojourners’ influence, my Lord Consort has said…” she began, but the elder interrupted her as easily as if she was the naughty servant.

  “He did challenge my wisdom about the rout of the Akkad sojourner when I had discovered the man was dangerous, but learned men often disagree on any number of points. That quibble of his struck me as a mere need for caution; for re-teaching. I even thought it was finished, but I too became gullible.” He smiled quickly, then went on: “And it seems to me that both of your husbands have experienced the fine sorcery of one particular young sojourner, have they not?”

  Oh, you have no right to bring this to me, Khentie snarled silently, but kept her face blank as a death mask. She wanted to shout at him to leave, but couldn’t defeat her curiosity. She watched the barely hidden ire glimmer in his eyes as he spoke again.

  “I knew two of the females used their wiles toward His Departed Majesty for some weeks, as they pretended to heal him. I knew they plotted to seduce so they might secretly weaken his noble heart. I even warned him, but your poor father could do naught but whimper in his misery until I was able to restore his proper cures.” He grasped her hands, as if the importance of his message might be increased by personal contact.

  Khentie noticed the unnatural chill and the dry, creped texture of the old man’s skin as he grasped her hands and continued his lecture. The dark leather brace on his hand tingled against her skin. She remembered: I should call for the guards and have you hauled out of here for touching the Daughter of a God. Your own father would have had you beheaded for the same thing. I want to know your thoughts, though. I already know you are in desperation to sense mine.

  “Was it told to you that at my own grandson’s ‘Send Away Celebration’, I came upon each of those two women as they worked their heka? One confused my grandson with the gifts of her body, and while he was occupied the dancing girl lay with our poor king, besotting him with her demonic charms.”

  “Confused…” Khentie repeated in amazement. Her mouth squirmed at the idea that the elder still attempted to make excuses for the way her father, happier than he had been in years, hoisted the pretty dancer Naibe into his arms after he watched her magical dance. She had been horrified the next day to learn that both women had been spirited away to Ta-Seti by Prince Maatkare Raemkai.

  “They are indeed sorceresses, untrained ones, but in my opinion half of their power at least is merely the charm of the available mount and nothing more. You understand,” he reiterated. “And however good they appear to us; it becomes their dread legacy to confuse men and compel them with their sensuality.”

  Lady Naibe, Khentie shook her head, suddenly tempted to laugh in the elder’s face at the irony. She knew her thoughts weren’t obscured by the elder’s own animation at that point, so she spoke aloud.

  “And my father’s line is saved by this young Naibe’s heka. After she anointed my brother with her sacred honey, his sweet prophetess Buni will have a child when she had been barren for years! I think we should find this sojourner now, and elevate her to the women’s priesthood. You likely haven’t guessed this, old man, but Buni is in total agreement with me on this and we plan to do something about it on their return, as well as something to you and your grandson if ill should befall them. Perhaps you ought to warn him through the ethers unless you no longer value either of your lives.” She counted the plates once more, then extended her upper body in a weary stretch, hoping the elder would see how tired she was and be polite enough to leave. Does he want me to throw him out? she asked herself. Is he daring me? she pulled away from his fond grasp of her hands.

  “And the son of my heart?” he began anew. “Your once beloved? Father of the sons of your body? You know how this Naibe woman scarred his heart,” Hordjedtef reminded her. “Seems she repaid your courtesy with a treachery born of vengeance for her own husband,” his voice had become a whisper.

  “Highness!” Khentkawes’ exploded, her eyes widening. “You are more than displeasing me,” she buried her sight in a basket of wonderfully woven and embroidered bedding for her father to rest upon. “I was not wandering lost in my own household when these t
hings you consider so devious occurred. If I was ever unwell over what was forged between them, I have since learned that neither he nor she ever harbored treachery of any kind toward any of us. The acts exchanged were… of… comfort…” Khentkawes lips thinned as her voice quieted. “What can it matter now, anyway?” she asked. “It seems you have solved that difficulty as well, having dispatched these women to Ta-Seti with your grandson, as pets…” she no longer hid her disgust. She knew the supposedly dead sojourner had truly risen from his temporary grave and was already on his way to fetch the women and likely murder Prince Maatkare in the process, but she dared not dwell on it. A smile of partial victory curled in the corner of her wide, plain face.

  He acts as if he doesn’t know, at least, her eyes half shut, implying boredom with the audience. If he knows, why is he wasting this morning with me? Why not go straight to my brother with tales of insurrection? She turned her face from the elder once again so that it would be more difficult for him to read her thoughts. Shepsesi won’t move a single man to go save that strutting young monster. Old man and his demon spawn have already caused more trouble in this kingdom than any two men have had a right to do. If only… She hoped she could find a flaw in the elder’s manipulation of everything and everyone she knew; that would at least make any punishment seem justified. She gathered up the edge of the linen, blatantly ignoring the old man, but he remained seated at her side.

  You would think I was being punished. Why? What god finds flaw in my life? The royal marriage is painful enough. When I placed my name with his at mother’s urging, father had been vital and powerful. We assumed he would live years past the six predicted at Buto, but here I am preparing to bury his body. My home and my life are both gone now. I have my duties. It’s all because of you, old man? Are you happy when you see me about to cry once again over all these things?

  Khentie longed for the sunny days with the birds and cats and monkeys playing in the green-filled plaza of her small and quite un-regal estate home. I miss my home! her heart cried every time she walked the spacious plazas and tall rooms of the king’s mansion. I want to be there, where I birthed my children, not here!

  “Dear Majesty…” Hordjedtef spoke at length. She knew he had been reading her thoughts about home and duties but at this moment she didn’t care. “The women were a danger. You must learn to be pitiless about them, despite their charms. They are sojourners, not even close to our kind. What becomes of them in Ta- Seti is for the best.”

  Pitiless. I should be, then, Khentie reflected. Perhaps toward you, old man, even though we share a lineage of the gods. That the king had died now makes all of this happen. The timing is so strange. Everything has fallen into place like the passing hours of the day. She knew all that had happened was somehow part of the elder’s design. But this ends, she affirmed to herself. Maybe you haven’t let it sink into your soul just how much of your influence now ends with his death.

  Khentie knew she needed to present a calm exterior so that Hordjedtef would make a quiet transition back to his palace in Nekhen far to the south, yet suspect no ill will. The first part of her plan, however, was to get him out of the room and back down the stairs as graciously as possible.

  “I assure you, Great One, my household is at peace, but for the grieving over our dear father.” Her smile grew as winsome as it was svelte. “In the light of so much needing to be done… and at a costly time, we have declared settled any former disputes or ill will with all of the priesthoods. We are now ready, my King ShepsisKhet and I. I am wife to him and shall continue to present him honorably. Should we hear of any that emerge, we will deal with them as treasonous.” She looked at her hands resting in her lap, then continued: “You have served our house and attended us so very well. The gods will honor your name forever,” she forced herself into silent and shielded thought.

  “I see,” Hordjedtef finally spoke, his voice more hushed than before. He struggled to his feet, but still managed to bow graciously then make his way to the linen curtain. He pulled it back, visibly irritated, and cleared his throat for the men who had come with him. Then, he turned to bid Khentie farewell. “The honor has always been mine for your father, his father, our brothers, and our father God Khufu. You are quite correct. My life in this realm trails and I need to contemplate other things. It is set that the son of my heart ascends to my post. I will visit you again soon, but for now, Your Great Daughter…”

  The servants who had come with the elder entered, bowed, and began to assist him down the stairs. As they did, Khentie sensed the ugly thoughts that issued from his calm expression as he spoke his words.

  That’s it, then? No, lady, you know good and well it isn’t! And I will know that you weep in misery before I am too long gone from here. First, I must attend our dear Wse. Mark me carefully, Majesty, you have much to learn that your holy women and mothers cannot teach.

  Khentie shrugged, and when she knew he was out of earshot, she murmured: “Well, thank the gods that’s done.” She rose from her cushion to pull a basket from a group of four wax-sealed containers which had been delivered to her last night. Items delivered to herself or to any high-ranking noble were always sealed against treachery. Only three of the four baskets were sealed. One had been opened by someone.

  He didn’t. He wouldn’t dare! She froze as she picked out the shuffling step of the old man accompanied by his attendants and the sound of his canes tapping on the brick as they made their way across the courtyard. Hoping he wouldn’t see her, she crept out to the balcony, but Count Hordjedtef turned to look up at her with a smart twinkle in his eye.

  Did he just wink? A spell? Khentie grabbed the sycamore amulet around her neck and rubbed the image. Goddess Hethrt. She felt an energy wave passing around her throat and hand as his glance turned away. He passed through the gate at the main entrance, to wait in the shade for his chair and bearers to arrive.

  No, she touched where his wrist brace had touched her hand.

  It’s a serpent, a scorpion; a fever powder. He’s put something in that basket; painted dart poison on the handle. Her heart fluttered and she grew nauseous. Khentie put her head in her hand, then rushed to the corner of the room to vomit in a privy bowl. When she finished and calmed her fit of fright enough to appear partially composed, she emerged from the room and asked a guard at the lower step to fetch Mya, then fled back to the basin. When the girl entered, she raised her eyes and mopped her mouth.

  “Your Majesty…” the girl bowed when the guard released her at the door. “How may I serve? Shall I get a physician, Your Majesty?”

  “Oh. No, little one.” Khentie paused, hesitant because she had never asked Mya to risk her life in the two years she had served her. Khentie had been an ordinary princess then, and it had never seemed important to have unusual things checked or tasted by an attendant. “This basket was closed, but now it’s unsealed and I didn’t do it. I need…”

  The girl instantly went to her knees. Her expression was one of hopelessness.

  “I know. I know, Mya…” Khentie knelt and impulsively embraced the girl, who was little more than a child. “Baby one, let us both pray to Goddess Selket against bites and stings,” she whispered and with trembling hands waved a simple gesture over the basket and their own throats.

  That our throats stay open and do not tighten with a sting

  That our skin does not swell or blister with a fiery bite.

  Reassured, the girl took the privy basin, set it to one side, and peeled back the disrupted lid.

  “Oooh look!” she sighed. It’s Big King’s doll,” the girl sadly lifted another shabti doll and handed it to her mistress.

  Khentie took it, but shrieked and dropped it into her lap. It was a white onyx statuette with a beautiful braided dark wig of real hair already in place. Its painted eyes were wide and golden and a necklace made of tiny lapis beads and pearls hung on its neck. It was an Ashera figure that looked so much like the Lady Naibe who had loved all the men in her life, without hesitat
ion or motive. The moment she had touched the doll, it had seemed to relax in her hand, smile, and even wink. Khentie fell forward onto the heap of burial goods, caressing the little doll and weeping bitterly.

  Chapter 6: A Chance Encounter - Memories

  Prince Wserkaf stopped by the home he had all but abandoned. This morning, his son Sahure and two servants opened the gate and stared with him at the still and empty plaza.

  “How empty it is now, Sahu,” the Inspector reflected aloud. “I thought when I opened the gate everything would suddenly be as it was.” He shook his head, warding off thinking about everything that had changed in the past half year. His son’s expression was mixed. Wserkaf knew the young man was thinking of his childhood here, but that he had moved on into adulthood, a career, and a young wife in Per-A-At. Soon they would celebrate the birth of their first child.

  A grandfather I’ll be then, he nodded, but returned to thoughts of the task at hand.

  “Let’s get at this work, so you may rest before your journey home in the morning,” he nodded to his son. “You three look at it and see how you can do this without ruining it. The water made the wood soft over the years.”

  Today, the men were going to pull the water wheel out of the sesen pool and take it to the royal palace to set up in the pool outside the women’s chambers. I made it for her when we were newlyweds; still children in love.

  “Father,” Sahure touched the inspector’s arm, distracting him from the memories. “There’s a pretty painted jar with Hethara in the reeds as Divine Cow. If we empty a little of the rainwater out we can get some cuttings of the papyrus shoots to start for her in the palace pool, too. That should gladden her heart.”

 

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