“Second, such an undertaking would be a nightmare to organize. Armies of men would have to transported, lodged, fed and treated for maladies. Third, soldiers would be needed to maintain order. Fourth, and perhaps the most important, the cost to your treasury would be huge, perhaps even impossibly so.”
“Yes, I have thought of some of these obstacles, but you organize them well, and concisely, in your own words.”
“Oh, but these obstacles are only four of many, many more. You must also decide on who will be the winners and losers of such a project and after that, how you will compensate the losers.”
“And Merkha has already cautioned me to do that assessment.”
“Good. Merkha is a good man. But on the other hand, the benefits to the Two Lands could be as large, no, perhaps much larger, than the risks. This could make Kem the most important trading partner in all the lands around us. It could result in a treasure that flows into Kem like Mother Nile’s waters.”
“So, you are of what opinion on the matter?”
“Opinion? My dear King, I have none. I only offer you caution and hope. If, after you speak to all those concerned and have more information to give me, only then might I be able to offer you an opinion. But,” he said smiling at me, “maybe I will have only more questions. Is that not right, Merkha?” At that the old man laughed loudly.
I called for Sabef’s assistants who came in to help him slowly rise and to position his canes. Before he began walking, he turned to Qa’a. “Everyone has opinions, my King. It is your job to hear them, judge them as carefully as Anubis judges our hearts, and decide on the right course of action. The people will always respond well to a lofty vision, one they deem fair and that gives them hope for a brighter future for them and their children. If you can do that with this canal, but only if, then future generations will whisper your name. May Horus continue to watch over you.”
The next month, Khenemet arrived from Nekhen to bless Mother Nile, for Akhet was due to arrive any day now. Reports were that the river was already rising, but we would not know for several more days whether we had been blessed by Hapy with good floods. Next to Heriu-Renpet, the days prior to the flood announcement were ones of anxiety. So much of our abundance, or its lack, depended on the gifts from Mother Nile, the source of all life.
On the third day after Khenemet’s arrival, word came by messenger that the flood waters had peaked at an average height, which allowed us to breathe a little. But it would not be until Mother Nile receded in three months time that we would finally know our fate, for only Isis determined the fertility of the soil she left behind. So the ceremony that we witnessed the very next day was a tribute to Mother Nile, but also a request to Isis to intercede on our behalves for abundant, fertile mud. I noted that every so often Qa’a would stare hard at Irisi as she offered incantations to her goddess.
By now Queen Amisi was nearly full with child and the crowds cheered wildly when they saw her. Word had spread of her carrying the heir to the throne and the crowds were jubilant. Ma’at had never been stronger with this, our fourth year, of good floods. The ceremony honoring Hapy, Mother Nile and Isis was mercifully brief, for the oppressive humidity of Akhet was now upon us.
The very next morning, Qa’a called me in to record his conversation with Khenemet and Buikkhu, but when I arrived, the two of them waved me off. I had already described to Buikkhu what had transpired between me and Qa’a when he had asked for my opinion and Sabef’s about the canal. It was hard for me to gauge his reaction, but I believe that Buikkhu was pleased to be warned of the King’s thinking in advance. As Qa’a later narrated to me his recollections of the meeting, he explained that my superiors thought it best to have a summary of their remarks for posterity rather than record every word.
“Excuse me, Master,” I said, setting down my pen on my writing rag. “Is that what he said or are you interpreting what you think he meant?”
“No, no, you heard right, Merkha. He said it exactly as I relayed it to you. I, too, was surprised.”
“So, he said to you: ‘We have thought much about this since you first brought it to our attention. We now see its merit and urge you to proceed.’ That is it?”
“Exactly. A word or two may be out of order, but he indicated that the two of them now considered the canal a worthy project to pursue.”
“Did he give his reasons? Khenemet I mean.”
“Of course. And, in fact, I agree completely with his reasoning. They both point out that it will increase trade for Upper Kem and once again focus power and riches here. That alone speaks to the rightness of the canal.” Qa’a stood and paced as he spoke. “It will also increase the treasury immensely through taxes on canal traffic. Militarily, it will allow us to more readily project our soldiers to lands to our south, if needed, and perhaps eventually to our east.”
The thought of Khenemet’s brazen play to Qa’a’s desire for power and control distressed me, for he surely needed no encouragement along that path. But it was Khenemet’s own all too obvious quest for power for the Horus priesthood - at least I hoped it was for that and not his own power - that shocked me most. Taxes, concentration of power, projection of force; did not Qa’a see this for what it was? Despite the heat I felt a cold chill run through me. Yet I could say nothing without seeming disloyal to my superiors.
It was hardly two ten-days later that Qa’a assembled a group of Royal architects and engineers recommended by Khenemet and Buikkhu. He charged them with exploring the land between Abdu and the Red Sea and advising him on the practicality of building such a canal. He granted them whatever they needed from the treasury and told them he wanted a report in six months. Before leaving, Buikkhu took Awi, the Chief Architect, aside and reminded him that they were to return with an honest report and not to overplay the merits of the canal if that was not warranted. His admonition made it clear that the Chief Architect would be held responsible if the project was undertaken due to his recommendation and then failed.
Life in the palace returned to normal as Amisi’s pregnancy approached the birthing day, or at least as normal as one could imagine given the annual inundation of flying pests that plagued us from evening until Ra’s first light. With four straight years of good floods, the pestilence was the worst many of us had seen in our lifetimes. Buikkhu wrote a pleading letter to Khenemet, who ordered the priests around Kem to make their well-know potions widely available to keep these miserable beasts away.
As Mother Nile began to recede, farmers returned to their homes and fields from projects in service to the King. Temples throughout the land were repaired, roads improved or new ones built, and new civil service buildings put up, all paid for by the King’s treasury. And now it was the time of the year for renewal.
As I looked from the palace at the farmland stretching to the mountains, I could see groups of farmers standing on high ground, talking and pointing to the thick black blanket of mud that covered their fields. Wherever the water had already seeped through natural channels and left the mud behind to dry, farmers were already turning over their land with their implements. From where I stood it appeared in every way as if the gods had come to the Two Lands and laid a blanket of fertile black cloth upon our fortunate land. I said a silent prayer of gratitude to them for this gift of life that sustained us.
Within a month all the land had drained and thin patches of green stubble started to spring from the soil. And at that very time Amisi began her birth pains. As she struggled with the pangs, Buikkhu pronounced the timing as a good omen, for both the land and its Queen were birthing in harmony.
The birth of the Prince was far easier for Amisi this second time. Although she had kept her distance from Qa’a for these many months, Irisi was quite insistent that she be present at Amisi’s delivery. Buikkhu had brought in a midwife of his acquaintance, a young woman who was the daughter of a nobleman and wealthy merchant in Inabu-hedj.
The midwife performed well in the beginning stages of labor, offering the Queen en
couragement and checking her often. The four carved ivory Wands of Hathor, protecting the birth from evil forces, lay on the floor at each corner of the bed. Handed down from Anhotek, they were present at every Royal birth since. Now they were in Buikkhu’s care and he constantly repositioned them to his liking.
As the time for birthing approached, all men were ushered from the room, except for Buikkhu and I, for it was important that Horus be represented and the birth of the heir to the Double Crown be recorded. Qa’a, in fact, was eager to leave. I noticed how distracted he was by Amisi’s cries of pain. As soon as he left, I saw a change in Irisi’s demeanor. She immediately went to Amisi’s side and watched carefully as the midwife examined the Queen’s womb. Statues of Hathor and of Tawaret, the pregnant hippopotamus god, sat on a table next to Amisi’s head.
It was immediately apparent that the midwife was concerned. Her brow was wrinkled, her eyes narrowed and she had perspired entirely through her garment. Irisi went to her, drew her to standing, and gently urged her to the far end of the room. There they huddled for a long time, each using her hands to describe the problem the midwife now faced. When they were done, Irisi placed both her hands on the woman’s shoulders and she nodded to Irisi. I noted tears in the young woman’s eyes.
Instead of the midwife, Irisi came to the Queen and whispered in her ear. The Queen nodded and Irisi proceeded to Amisi’s womb, where she conducted a thorough examination.
“Neitu,” she said calmly to the midwife, “bring me your medicines. Here, place them next to me.”
“Perhaps I should bring you my medicines,” Buikkhu said, stepping forward.
Irisi smiled up at him. “Perhaps, but allow me to see if Neitu here has what I require.” She pored through the chest and took out an herb and held it to Ra’s light.
“Here, Neitu, make a tea from this. Make it double strength.” Neitu took the alabaster jar, but Irisi held her hand. “Hurry!” she whispered.
Irisi sat at the side of the bed, holding Amisi’s hand. “We have a slight breech birth,” she said loud enough for us all to hear. “It is not a difficult breech, I have seen much worse, but I will need to correct it.” She looked into Amisi’s eyes, which were wide with fear. “Do not be afraid, my Queen. This happens. Our women have tiny frames, so a breech position must be corrected right away. We will give you a potion that will make it easier for you. But, you must still push when we tell you to, all right?” The Queen nodded nervously.
In a few moments Neitu appeared with the concoction, which she administered to the Queen. As the effects began to take hold, Irisi gathered Neitu to her side and they both came over to us. “Priests, I tell you now that the breech is serious. If I cannot correct it with my hands, we will need to cut Amisi open.” I was without words. Buikkhu’s jaw dropped.
“I have heard that you are a trained medical healer,” Irisi said, turning to Buikkhu. “Can you assist me if we need to cut her?”
“I am, but I should not put myself in this position. I will call a more practiced medical priest.”
“We do not have time! If we wait any longer the Prince will die, and perhaps Amisi with him. As it is we may have a chance to choose, if only one.”
Buikkhu turned to me, his brow furrowed, as if I might provide him with the answer he sought. “I will do it.” he said, turning to Irisi.
“Then let us get to work.” Irisi walked to Amisi’s side. She spoke softly to her and wiped her brow. Then she stood and whispered to Neitu. “You will offer the Queen encouragement and get her to push when I tell you to. Buikkhu, prepare whatever tools you may need and place them on the table by the bed. If… if my manipulations do not work we will need to act quickly. If we must do the… second procedure, then I will do it and you will assist. Agreed?” Buikkhu nodded, his eyes wide in fear, something I had never imagined I would witness.
Irisi grabbed a pillow and dropped to her knees in front of the Queen, who by now was feeling only dull pangs of birth. Neitu had placed a bowl of juniper juice next to the bed and Irisi took the cloth from the bowl and washed her hands carefully. She then slowly put her right hand into Amisi’s womb, moving her fingers gently to the right, feeling for the contours of the Prince’s body. Her eyes were closed, yet her brow was smooth, as if she were summoning Isis’ help and was simply doing the goddess’ bidding.
She removed her hand and then repeated the examination with her left, guiding her fingers, slowly, gently until she was sure of the baby’s position. Then she sat still, lifted her head up to the heavens and prayed, whether to Isis, Hathor or Wawaret I could not tell, perhaps all three. Her lips moved ever so slightly. She opened her eyes, looked at us and said, “I begin. Pray to Horus, Merkha, for we will need his intercession, too.” I felt a cold chill pulse through my body. I immediately began to pray fervently.
Dipping her hands again into the juniper water, Irisi put her right hand back into the womb and angled it down toward Amisi’s back. We heard Amisi moan, yet she did not scream or wail. The medicines had taken full effect. I knew enough to understand that Irisi must act quickly before too much of the medicine passed into the Prince. She pressed her left hand into Amisi’s lower abdomen in different ways, sometimes moving her right hand back and other times pushing it forward or to the side. Even I, a man, could not understand how Amisi withstood such painful manipulations.
This torture kept up for an inconceivable interval, as if Isis herself stopped time so that Irisi would gain an advantage over the natural order of birth. With her exertions, a sweat broke out on her upper lip, but aside from that Irisi maintained her calm and her discipline. She spoke softly to Amisi or instructed Neitu on how to help the Queen. Finally, she turned to Neitu with the briefest of smiles. “Wake the Queen and have her push.”
The next hour was a constant battle between keeping the Queen awake and focused on her task, and her desire to fall back into her dream state, perhaps to join Isis. Irisi kept her vigil at the Queen’s womb, gently guiding the Prince toward Ra’s welcoming light. As I stared in fascination, I saw a dark, curved object appear at the base of Amisi’s womb. Wider and wider it grew, stretching her beyond my comprehension, until a head, wet with Amisi’s birth waters, miraculously appeared. Irisi went to work again, putting two fingers into Amisi’s womb and finding the Prince’s underarm and steadily guiding it so that the entire arm popped out of the Queen. With one more push at Neitu’s urging, the Prince’s blue and lifeless body slipped from the Queen’s body into Irisi’s waiting arms.
As she held the baby, Buikkhu had recovered sufficiently and handed her two strings. She deftly tied them two finger-widths from the Prince’s belly and then Buikkhu leaned forward and, using the ivory ceremonial knife he had commissioned just for this purpose, he neatly sliced the birth cord between the two strings.
Now Irisi turned the baby upside down and smacked it hard on its heels. Nothing. She smacked it again, and still no response. She lay the baby in her arms and cleaned out its mouth, then repeated the slapping. Finally, the Prince coughed, a tiny sound, hardly recognizable. For a moment the room went silent as we waited. We heard him draw in a long, labored breath. He hesitated, as if experiencing his first taste of Kem’s sweet air and, finding it pleasing, the Prince let out the longest, loudest cry any of us had ever heard a baby make.
SCROLL FOURTEEN
Desert Eagle's Canal
Merkha
The entire mood in the palace changed. Qa’a was now more buoyant, always ready with a smile or word of encouragement as he walked the airy stone and alabaster hallways. Amisi had once again taken to attending Royal functions, wearing with pride her status as the Queen who had produced an heir. The entire Royal family believed its future was secure and children of the Royal families were invited in to play in the courtyards or to watch the animals in the King’s menagerie. Even the rekhi in the street rejoiced, knowing that ma’at was strong throughout the land and that work would be plentiful for them.
The time of Proyet was upon us and
throughout the Two Lands farmers, workers and businessmen were absorbed in tending their crops, harvesting the early wheat and barley, selling vegetables in the markets, and trading our goods for those of other lands. Caravans left every day along the well-worn trade routes to Ta-Sety, Kush, Lebanon, Canaan, Assyria and even further. Exotic goods arrived every day in Inabu-hedj’s bustling markets.
To walk through Inabu-hedj’s streets during Proyet never ceased to swell my chest with pride for Kem’s greatness. The White Walled city gleamed under Ra’s golden light. Its tall buildings and high walls provided shade and protection for anyone in need. Water was carried each morning from Mother Nile and poured into large urns by civil servants, thereby providing relief during the heat of the day for even the most wretched of the rekhi.
Qa'a (The First Dynasty Book 3) Page 18
