Heriu-Renpet was a time when the entire town walked on eggshells. When passing in the street, no person looked directly into another’s eye for fear of the Evil Eye. Food was purchased well before the solemn days arrived, so that the markets were largely empty and thus the streets and alleyways unnaturally quiet, without the hustle and bustle of trade. People flocked to the temples, offering gifts in return for absolution from misdeeds and to implore the priests and priestesses to pray for an uneventful five days. As evening approached, everyone rushed indoors for fear of the desert mut spirits that roamed the land. Windows were draped and doors closed, and goats brought into courtyards for their protection. Reports of illness or death raced through town and listeners drew their fingers across their eyes to ward off the evil spirits that accompanied such news. The only sounds heard at night were cats in heat and barking dogs.
On the evening of Wepet-Renpet it felt as if the people together breathed a huge sigh of relief. They loosed their spirits and emerged from their homes as soon as the priests blew the rams horns signifying the end of Heriu-Renpet and the beginning of the new year. As Ra descended from the heavens, people poured out of their homes in celebration. The priests and priestesses distributed beer freely to all from the King’s treasury. Parties for family and friends took place throughout the Two Lands.
As it turned out, the entire Royal family was invited to a party given in Qa’a’s honor by the group of businessmen who had benefitted from Qa’a’s expedition to Pwenet. It was a massive banquet, with an assortment of foods that one would expect only in the King’s palace in Inabu-hedj. There were light and dark bean pastes, fresh fruits from Shomu’s recent harvest, dried fruits, nuts and seed breads dipped in honey. Cheeses of all varieties lay in blocks on one table, surrounded by grateful attendees.
At another table a chef from Lebanon prepared foods from his country, as well as lands to their north and east, little of which was being sampled by the Kemians. The foods were too heavily spiced, as was their custom, and not to our tastes.
While food was continually served, a beautiful young woman sang as she strummed the lyre. After several sweet songs a troupe of musicians joined her and dancers, lithe and agile, appeared, twisting and turning as their gossamer gowns flowed behind them. An appreciative audience formed a ring around them and applauded whenever one of the men lifted a woman into the air, or a delicate maneuver was displayed.
As we all watched, I noted that Nomti appeared, dressed nicely in a fresh white kilt and a fine linen shirt, flanked by several other merchants with whom he did business. When he spied the King he excused himself from his colleagues and sauntered over to Qa’a.
“By Horus’ presence, if it isn’t the dreamer!” Qa’a shouted good-naturedly.
“Ah, you have obviously taken my suggestion too seriously. Perhaps I should share with you my plan to turn the desert into a large lake with sweet treats as islands!” He laughed heartily as Qa’a drank from his cup of beer.
“You joke, dear Nomti, but your canal idea has plagued me ever since we spoke.” Nomti shot a look at Qa’a. “Yes, it is true, although if you tell another soul I will deny I was even the slightest bit interested,” Qa’a said, laughing.
“Once you part with your goods from Pwenet, I would like you to travel to Inabu-hedj as my guest. I will send a Royal barge for you. We can continue this foolish discussion, but I also suspect that you have much to teach me about business and making deals.”
If Nomti was surprised at the King’s words, he did not show it. “I would be honored, Master. At your pleasure, always,” he said, bowing. The two sipped their beers for a few more minutes as they watched the performance.
“Tell me, Nomti, who is that lovely woman there who sings and plays the lyre?”
“Is she not something, my King? Her name is Shemei and rightfully named, for she is the object of many men’s desires. She is from Nekhen, the daughter of a wealthy businessman, who contributes to the temples here, for he is a religious man. Her mother passed away many years ago from the fevers of Shomu. She has two younger brothers who follow their father in business.”
“She has no betrothal ring on her finger.”
“Ha! You say that because you do not know her. She is a tease and has broken the hearts of many suitors, for her independent spirit is richer than her father’s wealth. My advice is to admire her from afar, my King.”
Once the musicians finished their performance, two magicians came forward to entertain the crowd. “Introduce her to me,” Qa’a whispered to Nomti.
“Are you serious, Master? She…”
“I am serious, Nomti. Hurry, for she is preparing to leave.”
As Qa’a later told me, he was immediately taken by her beauty and grace. She was of medium height, her body thin and supple. Her breasts were small and perfectly formed, her nipples pushing gently at the fine gossamer linen gown that had been seductively tailored to her body. She wore nothing beneath it. Her dark hair hung to her waist, separated by carved ivory combs that I guessed were from Nomti’s workshops.
Shemei’s face was exquisite, her complexion smooth and flawless, although one front tooth was chipped. She wore just a touch of kohl around her eyes and blue shading over her lids. Her jewelry was sparse, but exquisite, obviously custom-made for her diminutive figure.
From the far end of the gathering, Khenemet, who was in deep conversation with the Governor, saw what was happening and rushed to Qa’a’s side, but arrived too late. Buikkhu soon joined him.
Shemei bowed low before Qa’a and maintained that posture as Qa’a kept his eyes fixed upon her body. I noted him quickly press something in his lap, and I had no doubt that he was hiding a part of his anatomy that he hoped would not make an unwelcome appearance. He shifted in his seat before he gave Shemei permission to rise.
“Master Qa’a, may I introduce to you Shemai, daughter of Hamu, one of your most loyal subjects and a major supporter of Horus’ good works.” I could see at a glance that Khenemet was not pleased.
Qa’a dipped his head slightly as he sat. He motioned Shemai to come closer and she sat on a chair arranged below Qa’a’s. Qa’a turned to Buikkhu and asked if he would allow them some privacy. Buikkhu eyed Khenemet, who nodded, his face looking as if he had sucked a sour fruit.
With the rest of his entourage at a distance, but all eyes upon the two youngsters, Khenemet and Buikkhu appeared on each side of me.
“Why did you not come to get us when you saw this happening?” Khenemet asked me angrily.
“Saw what happening?” I asked, not understanding Khenemet’s intent.
“Do not feign ignorance, Priest!” Buikkhu hissed at me. “By your inaction you may have ruined our plans!”
“Quiet, Buikkhu,” Khenemet whispered without emotion. “You have already said too much.”
SCROLL TEN
With the Gods At Our Sides
Merkha
Akhet had been good to Kem. The ever smiling god Hapy had convinced Mother Nile to send us a great flood, so that her fertile mud settled upon the Two Lands in black, undulating blankets, soaking deep and replenishing the soil once again with life-giving nourishment. Everywhere one walked, the heady scent of rich mud filled the air, mixed every so often with the assaulting stench of decaying fish that lay stranded in fields. Rekhi could be seen picking through the fish for ones that could still be cooked as food or used in their gardens as fertilizer.
Now Proyet, the season of planting, busily occupied farmers in the Two Lands and already fields of wheat and barley showed green tinges from the efforts of the more industrious ones. I loved this time of year the most, for there was a palpable energy in the air during this time that I referred to as the season of promise. The air was hot, but not oppressive and people’s moods were light. Neighbors smiled and waved at each other. The markets were bustling and merchants were eager to throw in an extra onion, scrap of fish or bangle for their customers.
It was soon to be Qa’a’s twentieth birthday,
a cause for great celebration throughout the land. The transition to his rule had gone smoothly and Kem continued to prosper from our agriculture, business, and foreign relations.
I was assigned by Buikkhu to develop a plan of birthday celebrations, but one that would not keep Qa’a from his many other duties. As I discussed these plans with him, it was no surprise that he told me that Khenemet chose Nekhen to have the honor of hosting the biggest of them.
For the several months since we had last been in Nekhen for Wepet-Renpet, Qa’a was obsessed with Shemai. They would write to each other each ten-day and a Royal boat was almost exclusively put to use plying their messages back and forth. I noted that Qa’a also spent more time with soldiers in the King’s Guard and from overheard pieces of conversation I knew that he was depending on the more experienced ones to inform him on matters of sex. I had heard that while he was in the army he had already experienced the pleasures of women.
So on the second month of Proyet, the Royal fleet sailed south toward Nekhen, an altogether pleasant experience. The number of ships was extraordinary, both because of the time of year and for the anticipation of the celebrations themselves, for it was decided that after the large one in Nekhen we would proceed north, stopping at other towns along the way back to Inabu-hedj. After a brief few days at the palace to replenish supplies, we would proceed to the Delta for celebrations there. It seemed to me that every available boat in the area around Inabu-hedj was employed for this purpose.
Thousands of people awaited Qa’a as we came toward Nekhen’s docks. Priests from the Temple of Horus and priestesses from the Temple of Isis lined the landing site, all dressed in fine white linens. A contingent of Kings Guards supervised soldiers keeping the crowds from the site.
“Do you see her?” Qa’a asked me.
“See who?” I teased.
“You know damned well who I mean!”
“No, I do not see her at the moment, but then again if she and her father are smart she will wait until later when the crowds are not so pressing.”
“Yes, you are probably right,” he replied, and I was. It was not until later, as Ra set in the sky, that two of the Kings Guards announced her arrival. Qa’a jumped from his chair in the large tent, grabbed a tiny acacia twig from a cup, crushed it between his teeth, and using a froth of mint, brushed his teeth with it. He straightened his clothes and instructed the guards to show her in.
I bowed to Shemai and Qa’a and left the two of them alone. I moved the two guards outside the tent a few paces away. I retired to my small tent, which was placed behind the King’s. Buikkhu’s tent adjoined Qa’a’s.
As I sat meditating, I could hear the stricken couple speaking in hushed tones and laughing every so often. There were also long periods of silence and I could only imagine what went on between the two. But I had confidence that Qa’a and Shemai would do nothing that would shame the two. I realized then that I had neglected an important aspect of Qa’a’s education and I was determined to rectify that at the first opportunity.
Nearly every evening during our time in Nekhen, Shemai would appear with her father, who would drop her off and pick her up later. She began to appear more frequently at the King’s dinners, after which he would often take her on long walks along the rocky ridges that surrounded Nekhen.
On one particular night, as the two left our encampment with a contingent of King’s Guards, I retreated to my tent to work on Qa’a’s holy scrolls. No duty that I was entrusted with was as precious to me as writing the scrolls, for I knew from my studies that they might someday offer advisors to future leaders of Kem insights into how best to counsel them.
I had begun to translate my observations and conversations with Qa’a into the picture words when I heard voices from Buikkhu’s tent. It was obvious from the sound of the voice that Khenemet had arrived from his residence at the temple. I found that unusual since his days here were busy and he usually retired by now. It was then that I heard a third voice.
Since Khenemet had urged me to keep a close eye on the Royal Court and to report to him everything that went on, I felt that I should also hear the goings on from their side, so I moved my chair closer to the opening of my tent and tied the door flap open. As the night was hot, Buikkhu’s tent had all the window flaps open to allow what little breeze there was to circulate.
It did not take long for me to figure out that the third person was Shemai’s father, Hamu, an ox of a man, with a deep booming voice. If our priestly saying that the walls of a palace are thin is true, then surely the walls of a tent are thinest of all. I was able to hear nearly every word of their secretive discussion.
“And so, Hamu, we finally get a chance to meet quietly. We have much to discuss,” Khenemet began.
“I was waiting for you to approach me.”
“This… this turn of events has come to us a surprise, as you must suspect.”
“You mean Qa’a choosing my daughter?”
“No choice has yet been made, may I remind you,” Khenemet was quick to respond. “Many things could go wrong to take that wagon off the path it is on.” Hamu remained quiet. “We must start a series of discussions with you if we are to mortar this bond between the Royal family and yours. Much is at stake.”
Hamu was nothing if not experienced in negotiating. The wealth he had accumulated was a testimony to that fact. “Go on.”
“First, lets start with some rules. We will negotiate and when we have the final details worked out, I will invite in a trusted scribe, who will put our agreements down in the holy picture words, which we will both sign. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“And no one is to be informed of these discussions, Hamu. No one. Is that understood? If word leaks out, well, let me say that in my long life I have witnessed many unfortunate accidents…”
“Are you threatening me, Khenemet?”
Khenemet waited before responding. “Hamu, you are a religious man and a strong supporter of the temples since the tragedy of your wife’s death when Shemai was but a child. You have raised her admirably. So it pains me to have to tell you that, yes, I am threatening you. We bargain not for the price of an urn of beer, Hamu. These negotiations may very well hold the future of the Two Lands in the balance. Ma’at may hang by a spider’s thread if word of our agreement leaks out.”
“I give you my word, I will tell no one of these discussions.”
“Good, for these discussions, dear friend, may involve far more than you realize, for I negotiate not as in-laws haggling over a bride’s price. I am Chief Horus priest and I need an ally to whom I can turn in times of duress to ensure that ma’at stays strong for generations to come. Are you with me?”
“Right now you speak in riddles, Khenemet, but I have known you for many years. I may not agree with your strong hand, but I know that you place ma’at and the good of Kem above all else. I do not know if I can agree to all you seek, but I promise to listen and to try to understand your side. That is how I always approach a negotiation.”
“Good. Since our time together tonight is limited, let’s begin with one issue that plagues us, and that is Shemai’s decorum.”
At this, Hamu let out a deep laugh. “It is not her decorum that should concern you, it is mine!” Buikkhu and Khenemet remained silent. “You have never raised a child, either of you, so I will probably be talking to the wind, but anyway, here it is.
“When my wife died, all I had in this world, all I cared about anyway, was Shemai. She reminded me, even at that age, of her mother, may she be well in the Afterworld waiting for me to arrive. I could not discipline her when she looked at me with those big, bright eyes. And when she asked me about my activities, I explained to her my business dealings. She always accompanied me to the temples of Horus and Isis to make offerings and prayers. She became my partner more than my daughter. So, you see, how can I blame her for her strong will?”
Qa'a (The First Dynasty Book 3) Page 12
