Qa'a (The First Dynasty Book 3)

by Lester Picker

  “Why did you not tell us this, Priest!” Buikkhu shouted at me. “Had we known this we might have…”

  “Buikkhu, calm down,” Khenemet shouted. “Obviously we have much work to do, starting with you teaching this teacher what he must watch out for, what he must report to us and when, and what he should be telling the King in order to bring him in line with our thinking.”

  Was I really hearing this conversation, I wondered, or was this a bad dream, for who dared to assume he had the right to influence the King of Kem in such a manner? Had the Horus priesthood finally come to this? Would the holy Anhotek have had the audacity to manipulate power solely to benefit his priests, whose only true mission was to serve Horus’ brother? My heart beat in utter confusion.

  So it was that on that day I began my education, one so distant from everything I had until that day been taught that I may as well have lived with the dark-skinned clans of Ta-Sety. Nothing would ever be the same again, of that I was sure. Yet I also resolved to myself an oath that day, an oath sworn upon my eternal ka. If I was to be a student again, I would not just learn what was being offered me by my superiors, I would master it.

  The very next day Qa’a called Nomti to his meeting room in the palace, where they spent the entire morning in conversation. I was called in at various points to write a letter or note to an official, or to make lists for Nomti’s benefit, which gave me a hint of his organizational skills. And while Qa’a had a grasp of what the project entailed, he appeared concerned only with how it would make him appear as King, and not how Kem itself would benefit from the canal. I also heard in his words that he recognized it would solidify his legacy for eternity.

  However, I was most struck with Nomti’s grasp of the project, for he both understood the main objective, in fact far better than did Qa’a, but also the interplay of the many details that went into it. I could not help but think that he viewed the entire project as a huge business deal and relished the thought that he would consummate it.

  At one point in their discussion, Qa’a called me in. “Bring your writing tools, for we are at point where we must write things down,” Qa’a instructed me. I returned in a few minutes with my materials, sat on the floor and spread them before me on the low writing table that I always left in Qa’a’s quarters.

  “In return for his work on the project, Nomti wishes to have certain trading rights,” Qa’a began.

  “With Pwenet,” Nomti interjected.

  “Yes, with Pwenet. Now spell out for Merkha here what you desire and it shall be yours.” I was taken aback by the King’s grant of whatever Nomti wished.

  “First, I wish to have the right to trade with them in any three goods of my choosing.”

  “Other than gold,” Qa’a added.

  “Other than gold. But I desire exclusive rights to my three trade items. And…

  “Why must it be exclusive? That is asking quite a bit. For you, yourself, explained to me on our trade mission there that trade with them could be quite lucrative.”

  “You choose the right word, master. I did say ‘could’ and that is the difficult part. The Pwenetians may change their minds after I have purchased a ship at great expense and hired a crew. My crew may get hit by a storm and my entire shipment lost. If your grant to me is not exclusive, it would not be worth the initial investment of my treasure.”

  “I do see your point. Go on.”

  “Do you yet know what those three items are?” I asked.

  “Not yet, but I will present my list within the next month, after I confer with my workshop supervisors.”

  “Has Khenemet been advised of this deal?” I asked, turning to Qa’a.

  “It is none of Khenemet’s business,” he snapped back at me.

  “I only ask, Master, because there are at least two items that I believe would create a problem with the Horus priesthood.”

  “Yes, frankincense and myrrh,” Nomti said. “I would not presume to ask for rights to those spices. I know well how important they are to the priesthood.” I relaxed hearing those words from Nomti, for up to now I felt Nomti’s position to be excessive, but it was not my place to question the King’s judgement in that matter.

  For another hour the two bartered back and forth until Qa’a stood. “Enough. When Nomti gives you his list of items, write up the agreement for my seal.” I left the room, bowing low to Qa’a. By the end of the morning, both men were tired and agreed to meet again in a month, at which time Nomti was to have a canal plan ready for Qa’a. While Nomti still sat next to the King, Qa’a called in Buikkhu.

  “Buikkhu, Nomti and I have made some decisions regarding the canal project. He will have a plan to me in a month. I wish for you to provide him with scribes, architects and engineers, as many as he feels he needs. Know that I want the first shovel to enter the desert sands on Akhom’s birthday and not one day later.

  “Although I have not yet discussed this with Nomti, I also wish for you to appoint one of your most esteemed priests as Nomti’s personal scribe and shaman. He will need a capable assistant for the project to succeed.” Nomti was caught by surprise and tried to interject.

  “Make it so,” Qa’a said, slapping his hand on the arm of his chair. Buikkhu nodded and bowed low, but not before casting a glance at Nomti that dripped with malice.

  SCROLL FIFTEEN

  Should Not An Eagle Soar?

  Merkha

  The entire tone of the palace had changed over the past few months. Now it was in a constant churn, every day bringing messengers rushing in and out, dignitaries appearing suddenly for important meetings, harried architects and engineers with long scrolls of drawings under their arms. The palace had quickly mobilized for the canal project and with it the entire administration of Inabu-hedj.

  So it was that the very next month, the Chief Architect, Awi, along with Nomti, Urshte, Buikkhu and several Royal engineers gathered in Qa’a’s quarters. We all bowed when the King appeared.

  “Well, this is to be a big day,” Qa’a began as he entered. He sat with great flourish. “We are ready for you to present your plan,” he continued, raising his hands towards Nomti, who walked to the front of the group, standing next to Qa’a. He nodded to Urshte, who also stood, holding several scrolls under his arm. Two priest acolytes accompanied him. They unrolled and held open the first papyrus scroll, a sketch that Urshte had drawn.

  “We will begin work on the canal during Akhet, when the people cannot work on anything else due to the floods.” Qa’a nodded. “We will employ thousands of rekhi and craftsmen.” I noticed the engineers peering intently at the sketch, poking each other with their elbows, pointing to the scroll and whispering.

  “What we plan to do is divide the canal into sections and work on them all at the same time.” The meeting degenerated into a buzz of conversation.

  “Nonsense,” one of the engineers murmured. Nomti stopped his presentation.

  “We will wait until Nomti has presented all he has today before we comment,” Awi said, holding up his hands and turning around to his underlings. He nodded for Nomti to continue.

  “I am not an engineer and I understand that this is not the way engineering projects are done. I know that you start at the beginning and continue to the end in one continuing line.” The engineers nodded, some agreeing loudly.

  “However, I have spoken to the Chief Architect,” he said pointing to Awi, “and to many of you individually and all have mentioned the problems of getting supplies into and out of the workplace. That greatly delays the projects. I urge you to consider that by working on widely separated sections at the same time we avoid such supply backups. Each has its own supply routes. Each has its own supervisor. That would improve the efficiency of the project. It saves time and saves the King’s treasury.” The engineers did not need to be reminded that their livelihood was provided by that treasury. By dividing up the project, it would also mean more supervisory jobs for them. They stared straight ahead, some with their mouths open, I am sure won
dering why they had not before this approached their projects in the same way.

  By the end of the presentation, all agreed that the plan that Nomti and Urshte presented was such as had not been seen before in the Two Lands, that is how ambitious was its scope. They left secure in the knowledge that the project would make ample use of their skills for perhaps the rest of their lives.

  “Well done, Nomti,” Qa’a said once all others had left the room. “This is indeed a noble project.”

  Nomti looked at me and Urshte. “Yes, most definitely worthy of your name, Master. It will be spoken of for all eternity.”

  “Perhaps not quite that long,” Qa’a said, laughing. “Yet you have not mentioned costs. I can see you will be needing thousands of men and costly wood and other supplies.”

  “We have another scroll to share with you, Master,” Urshte said, stepping forward. He opened it on a low table before the King.

  “Without boring you, my King, what Urshte’s figures show is that any gold you spend over the next ten or twenty years will be repaid many times over by the taxes you will be able to collect from trade along the canal.”

  “And unlike the Wat-Hor,” Urshte added excitedly, “the canal is easily monitored so that desert smugglers cannot not hide goods from taxation.”

  “And there is yet another matter, my King,” Nomti said, walking closer to Qa’a as if sharing a secret. “The canal would give you access to new lands in order to project your… ambitions to other nations.” Qa’a smirked and I marveled at Nomti’s ability to use Qa’a’s weakness to so adeptly manipulate him.

  Watching Urshte work over the next few ten-days, I was surprised at his choice as Nomti’s shaman, for Urshte was not in Khenemet’s inner circle of trusted priests. Urshte was better known as an accountant and manager. But, of course, that would give Khenemet an insider’s knowledge of the workings of the project, and perhaps more.

  To support his ambitious plan, Nomti busily established new administrative offices to reliably supply the workers with food, shelter and medical care. He hired businessmen and women that he knew to supervise those functions. He created other offices to transport construction goods to the sites. The Chief Architect’s administration was increased by hundreds of scribes and other workers to handle the logistics of designing the canal’s route, a development that helped smooth over the slight that Awi felt in not being named Overseer.

  With the burgeoning administration Khenemet quickly saw his opportunities. He and Buikkhu, with my assistance at key points, convinced Qa’a that the Horus priest administration should be the ones to supervise contracts for the project. I produced records going back to Meryt-Neith and even as far back as Hor-Aha that clearly showed the organizational efficiency of the Horus priesthood in handing out food in times of famine or in administering justice throughout Kem. I believe that Qa’a saw an opportunity in this to placate Khenemet and so granted them the concession.

  And so, on the first day of the second month of Proyet, amidst suitable pomp and ceremony, Qa’a held his year-old son, Akhom, dressed in a colorful Princely outfit made just for the occasion. With his hands tightly around the boy’s hands, Qa’a lifted a digging tool and together they delivered the first blow to the burning sands of the desert. For better or worse, the canal project had begun.

  Akhom, I must say, was an exceptional child and I had every right to so judge him, for his education was entrusted to my supervision, if not direct care. He was too young to begin formal training just yet, but I was able to visit with him frequently to gauge his readiness for learning. He had a good temperament and a ready smile for all, and I gave much of that credit to Amisi, since Princess Banafrit had a similarly pleasant disposition. In fact, the children enjoyed each other’s company. The only thing that concerned me was that he was not an active child, like his father was, and as I find boys typically are.

  One month after the canal project began, Nomti and Urshte came to Inabu-hedj to report to Qa’a.

  “It goes well, Master. We have laid out two segments of the canal, here and here,” Nomti said, as Urshte pointed to a map spread in front of them. “They are separate enough so that it will require different caravan routes to supply them and will therefore avoid bottlenecks that I have seen on other building projects.” After a month in the desert, Nomti’s skin was dark brown. He had already lost a good deal of weight and seemed trim and energetic. Urshte was as short and slight as always. He had a way of reminding me of a mouse, holding his head up and sniffing the air.

  “And how about your progress?” Qa’a asked.

  “Progress is slow as I would have expected. We have to carefully lay out the segments so that they will eventually meet without there being a sharp curve created due to poor planning. That would necessitate filling in and re-digging.”

  “The engineers would have preferred to dig the canal as one continuous project,” Urshte added, “but we will ultimately move faster doing it Nomti’s way.”

  “Ultimately?” The King looked from Nomti to Urshte, who now hung his head in silence.

  “My capable assistant does not appreciate the methods I use, Master.” Nomti laughed. “He thinks I hold too many meetings and spend too much time listening to the opinions of others.” Now Urshte smiled. “Feel free to speak, Urshte.” Urshte raised his eyes to see if Nomti was serious.

  “It is true, my King. He asks for opinions and will not make a decision until everyone has spoken. He persuades and discusses until nearly all agree to the wisdom of one course of action. It makes me crazy! He knows that course of action before any discussion even begins.” The smile left Qa’a’s face and his brow knitted in confusion.

  “But, why, Nomti? Just tell them what they must do. They are your servants. I have issued a decree stating so.”

  Nomti shifted his feet, his fingers intertwined on his lap. “That is not my way, Master. I will do as you wish if you insist, but I would rather conduct my business as I have always done. I think that in the long run, people participate more willingly and get more done if they feel their ideas have been considered, if they feel they have contributed to the final decision even in some small way.” Qa’a looked at Nomti, uncomprehending.

  “Have it your way, my trusted servant, but I must say that it makes little sense to me. I have found that rekhi and priest alike do better when they just follow orders. “ Nomti nodded, although his body was obviously tense from this exchange.

  “Well, in any event, good, well done, Nomti,” the King said, arising and slapping Nomti on the back.

  “I am happy that we started in Proyet. That gives us six months to get the project working and to figure out some of the problems before we are flooded with workers, so to speak.” Four of us in the room laughed, but not Buikkhu.

  “And how many rekhi will you need?” Buikkhu asked.

  “As many as we can possibly get.” Nomti said, still smiling.

  “Even more!” Urshte added.

  Buikkhu frowned. “This is exactly what the High Priests feared, my King. We need workers during flood season for our temples. We must have roads repaired this year. The Lower Kemians are demanding more granaries and public services. It appears that Nomti wishes to suck up every able-bodied workman in the Two Lands.” A tense quiet stayed in the room.

  Finally, Nomti spoke up with his usual buoyant manner. “Oh, I see, Buikkhu. There is no problem at all. You see, for the first three years, maybe more, too many workers will only get in the way. We must have enough to keep busy, but not so many that they stand around waiting and we have to feed them while they do nothing but deplete the King’s treasury. Isn’t that right, Urshte?

  “We will need to try different work methods. We must determine how to shore up the embankments and how to solve many, many other problems. So, please, go ahead and commission as many rekhi as the King allows you. I will make do with far fewer men… for now.”

  Buikkhu lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing. I wondered if Nomti had simply blundered into
a solution or had just masterfully disarmed Buikkhu’s attack. Something in my gut suspected the latter.