Qa'a (The First Dynasty Book 3)

by Lester Picker

  “It is done,” Khenemet offered. “We must leave the discipline to Nebibi while we decide what is to be done next, for this is a serious matter. Very serious,” he added, tapping his staff on the floor for emphasis.

  Qa’a paced back and forth before us. “All right, Khenemet, I see your point, but I want a full report on what is being done to these… these soldiers, these cowards who ran from a mob of unarmed villagers. At the very least, they are not to remain in my army and fed from my treasury. Do you understand, Nebibi?” The General nodded, his shoulders slumped. I noted for the first time that his age had taken the sword’s edge off his ba.

  Qa’a took a long drink of beer from his cup. “Now what is it you recommend, Vizier?” Buikkhu looked at Khenemet. “I am asking you, Buikkhu, not the Chief Priest.” I saw Nomti wince at the rebuke.

  “In fact we have discussed it, Master, and we both agree that you must come down hard on the Delta. This was a riot of angry villagers. The flood has been poor again and their crops already suffer. There will be more riots if you do not show your bull strength.”

  “And you Khenemet. Do you agree?”

  “Buikkhu states my position well. This cannot be tolerated. Already there is discontent…”

  “More than their usual whining?”

  “Yes, more than usual. And they are forever plotting to create chaos.”

  “And you Merkha?”

  “I agree they must be taught a lesson, but what that is I cannot say.”

  “That is it, then,” Qa’a said forcefully, quaffing the rest of his beer before a servant refilled it. “I dare not ask for your opinion, Nomti, for I am sure you would negotiate with them endlessly and in the end give them even more than they asked for.” Nomti’s jaw hung open at Qa’a’s attack on his beliefs. Even in his half-drunken state Qa’a saw the effect of his words.

  “I respect your positions on these matters, my friend, and your advice is always sincere, even if I do not always agree with it. But look what your recommendation on the battlefield in Dep got us. Disrespect for the King. Ma’at thrown to the desert winds. Rioting and murdering the King’s soldiers. What next?”

  “What do you suggest we do, Khenemet? I mean specifically?” Qa’a asked. At that moment, a messenger came in and whispered in Buikkhu’s ear. The two got up and walked to a corner of the room. We waited.

  “I have just been informed that two other villages in that nome have rioted, Master. No one has been killed, but many items have been stolen from the Royal estates.” The room went silent.

  Khenemet spoke first. “If I may, Qa’a, I will answer your question. I have a list here with me,” he continued, withdrawing a small scroll from his robe. “With these new riots I think you will agree with my recommendations.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “First, I suggest that you destroy their granaries, with a proclamation that this is the penalty for insurrection.”

  “All the granaries in the Delta?” Nomti blurted out.

  “Yes, so that insurrection does not spread.”

  “My King, I ask you to consider an alternative. They are a close people. Destroy only the granaries for that one nome. The rest will get the message quickly. In fact, if the surrounding nomes share their meager stores with the rebellious nome, they will all suffer.”

  “They are close, that is for sure,” Qa’a responded. “Like flies to dung.”

  “And if they are forced to help each other through the King’s punishment, they will end up with closer ties than ever; ties that bind them tighter against us.”

  “I agree with Khenemet on this. Let them wallow in their own misery. All of them! Go on, Khenemet.”

  “I would instruct the General here to take a group of well-armed soldiers to those villages that have rebelled and burn them to the ground. Kill all their livestock. They will be forced to beg in the streets of neighboring villages to survive until the bad flood years pass.” Qa’a smiled at Khenemet’s suggestion.

  “Good, I am now beginning to enjoy this. Quite!” He grabbed his cup as he paced by his table.

  “I would also suggest convening an inquiry by the Horus priesthood, officiated by me to show the seriousness of the situation. Once we find out the instigators, you would arrive to sentence them to death. I think these actions will make them think carefully before any such future acts of insurrection.”

  “Good, Khenemet. I like these suggestions. I would add a few more, though.” He continued to pace, rubbing dribbles of beer from his chin.

  “Nebibi, you will take every able-bodied male child in these villages between the ages of ten and sixteen into the army until they serve ten years. Make none of them fighters, only lowly pages. Assign them to the far reaches of the southern desert.

  “Buikkhu, you will confiscate all their farmland and create Royal estates for my relatives.” I watched Nomti squeeze his fingers together to withhold his reaction. He stared intently out over Mother Nile, his lips pursed in anger.

  Qa’a smiled broadly, drank his beer and muttered something that none understood.

  “I am sorry, Master, but I did not hear that,” I said, dipping my pen in my jar of ink, ready to transcribe his words.

  “I said they are dung beetles, all of them. I will crush them beneath my sandals!” He finished his beer in one gulp and belched loudly.

  That night, as I stayed late at the palace completing my parchments of the meeting, I heard a knock on my doorpost. Urshte announced his presence and I bid him enter.

  “What a surprise,” I said, getting up to greet him with a warm hug. “Welcome brother. What brings you here at such a late hour?”

  “We must talk, brother, but not here. I bid you walk with me along Mother Nile so we may feel her calming influence.”

  We exchanged pleasantries as we walked out of the palace and down the stone steps to the path that ran above the embankment. Urshte filled me in on Nomti’s son’s antics and we laughed heartily at the youngster’s misadventures. Finally, out of earshot of the palace, Urshte stopped.

  “I spoke with Nomti about today’s meeting, Merkha. I have delayed speaking with you, far longer than I should have. But today’s events force my hand.”

  “You do seem troubled. Speak from your heart.”

  “Thank you, I will, and I will get right to the point, for you know all the background and have no need for explanations. But first I must ask you for complete confidence in what we are about to discuss.”

  “Among priests, my brother, you have no need to ask.” Urshte nodded.

  “If Qa’a continues on this insane path he is already on, you and I both know he will rend Kem asunder. The Two Lands will become two separate lands, always at each other’s throats. Narmer’s War of Unification will have been in vain.” As I breathed in I shuddered. I wrapped my robe tighter around me.

  “If it is the plan of the gods to cast Kem into chaos to test us, have you thought of who will lead us out?” I stood silent, my knees shaking.

  “Come, brother, you surely have thought of this.”

  “Yes. Yes, I have, on many sleepless nights. Qa’a has changed, so much so I hardly recognize the man he has become. As his teacher it shames me. Yet he is encouraged in these behaviors by Khenemet and Buikkhu.”

  “I know this well, for I have seen it and Nomti talks with me about their evil quest for power. But you have not answered my question.”

  “My answer is no, I do not allow my heart to pursue it past the point of knowing that Qa’a is surely leading us astray. You are right. He is splitting Kem in two.”

  “Then I will get right to the point, Merkha. If it comes to it, if the worst imaginable happens and we are plunged into a war of brother against brother, will you support Nomti ascending to King?” For a moment I could not catch my breath. My knees were so weak I quickly sat on a nearby rock.

  “Nomti? King? This cannot be, Urshte. He has no royal blood He is not even remotely related to Qa’a. He… never mind all that, he would be oppo
sed by Khenemet and Buikkhu. It is too fraught with obstacles. It… it is nonsense!”

  “Forget the obstacles for a moment, Merkha. Put them out of your thoughts. Suppose Khenemet’s influence were no longer as strong or he passed to the Afterlife. The question I ask you to consider is whether Nomti would make a good King.” It was as if Urshte had slapped me in the face.

  “Yes,” I answered, not even knowing how that word escaped my lips. “Yes, he would make a wonderful King, strong and…”

  “And with a vision of Kem. A vision of its greatness, of it controlling the destinies of all nations around us, not due to threats, but due to trade. A vision of a strong Kem, with roads and buildings dedicated to the many gods that our people worship. Am I still talking nonsense, Merkha?”

  I sat with my head hanging, listening to Urshte’s words and knowing that they sat comfortably in my heart, for if nothing else, he spoke the truth. “No, you are not talking nonsense,” I whispered. “I know this of him, for I have seen his ba in good and bad times. He is quiet, but strong and resolute. But…”

  “But, what?”

  “I am a Horus priest, as you are, and we have taken a holy vow to always obey the King and the Chief Priest. What you are asking is unthinkable, Urshte. It is the unholiest of sins.”

  “Do you think I do not know this, my brother? Do you not think it plagues me day and night, to carry such thoughts in my heart? But there are things of which you may not be aware, things so vile and unholy that they have convinced me that I am relieved of my obligation to obey Khenemet.”

  “You speak heresy, Urshte! Things so vile? Of what do you speak?”

  “I will tell you under the protection of Horus as brothers who serve him. There is a plot afoot in Lower Kem to kill Banafrit, in their hopes to position Mume to succeed Qa’a. When Khenemet got wind of the plot, he made plans to assassinate Mume, too.”

  “What? How can this be?” My heart pounded with fear. “And, how do you know of such desperate plans?”

  “Because, as a priest born and raised in the Delta, Khenemet secretly asked me to plan Mume’s assassination, with Buikkhu’s help, as if he needed any help. We both know what they are capable of, Merkha.”

  “Oh, my dear Horus! You are right. I think of poor Semerkhet every day in my prayers. My heart races in fear. Ma’at is cast to the wind.”

  “And who has brought this upon Kem, I ask you? Who is dragging Kem down to the depths of Nun, from which we may never arise? Do you not think our enemies see this decline?

  “I will tell you, my brother, it is that unholy cabal of Khenemet and Buikkhu and the influence they have exerted on Qa’a. In his weakness he only confides in his never-ending mug of beer, rather than in those whom he should trust.”

  I could not argue with Urshte any longer, nor defend my childish perceptions from his deeper understanding of what we now confronted.

  “Kem is in mortal danger, Merkha. The gods are testing us. Do we follow Khenemet’s desire for power blindly into chaos, or will we act boldly to right its course? I ask you to join me, discreetly, until we have a plan that will avoid bloodshed and place Kem back on its path to greatness.”

  “Who else in involved in this… this cabal?”

  “I believe that Irisi will join us within days.”

  “Irisi?” I was stunned. “She has not breathed a word of this to me!”

  “Nor will she, for I have sworn her, like you, to secrecy. You must not say a word to her, Merkha. But once I have an answer from each of you, I will tell the other and we will then meet together.”

  “And why does she hesitate?”

  “She wishes for me to get Nomti to agree to this first.”

  “What? You mean he is not already part of this?”

  “Yes, that is what I mean. Nomti is a man of principles. I must work on him carefully to help him to see what must be done. He already understands the dire situation we face. He is more frustrated with Qa’a than any of us. And he and Khenemet despise each other. Still, it will take time for Nomti to be willing to ascend to the throne, if he ever does.”

  Urshte turned to me and placed his hands on my shoulders. “Take a ten-day to decide, brother. I understand how difficult this is for you. As for me, I have already embarked on this path and I can only pray it is the right one.” As I looked up to place my hands upon his, I noticed something strange. His head was surrounded by Ra’s silver light and his body was illuminated from behind by the streak of light that was cast upon Mother Nile’s waters.

  Over the next ten-day I hardly did anything but think of my conversation with Urshte. I prayed at Ra’s rise the morning after our meeting that Horus send me a sign and place in my heart the wisdom to decide what is right. And it did not take long.

  General Nebibi’s aides had left for the Delta two days after my meeting with Urshte, with orders to tell the commanders who were on site to contain the riots. The General himself had mobilized the army, careful to only call up those units that came from Upper Kem. They immediately began training in battle groups in the marshy areas and deserts around Inabu-hedj. It was as if the city had become an armed camp and tents sprouted up like desert flowers after a rare rain.

  Unbeknownst to all but Qa’a and Nebibi, the orders were to harshly contain the situation and under no circumstances to allow any group assemblies or further rioting. But villagers were already agitated and young people from throughout the region rallied in their village commons and animatedly spoke against the rule of Upper Kem. On the seventh day, the riots began.

  Whether these disturbances were designed and manipulated by powerful behind-the-scene forces in Lower Kem or whether they rose from the wisps of discontent that gathered force into a fierce mut desert wind of rebellion, I did not know at the time. But they erupted with fury at the Festival of Peak, a time when most Kemians celebrated the cresting of the flood waters and Mother Nile’s slow return to her banks.

  The day appeared no more unusual than any other day when Ra rose in the sky, lighting up the few clouds that were scattered over the marshy lands of the Delta. As people began to gather in the common areas of the many villages that dotted the Delta, young men would stand on market tables, screaming their discontent at all who would listen. Only this year, with the floods so poor and the King’s heavy hand so harsh, the people thirsted for blood. It started slowly, as crowds in one village marched peacefully, but angrily, on one of the King’s many estates, this one for growing barley. A scuffle ensued, soldiers were called, and mayhem broke loose.

  Runners went from there to villages scattered nearby and from there more runners sent word of the rebellion, until finally the troops that were already in the area were far outnumbered. Then crowds overran their defenses and the soldiers responded as they were ordered by their King and their General. Hundreds were slaughtered that day, cut down by spears and swords, heads bashed by maces and clubs. More than twenty of Qa’a’s soldiers were also slain, beaten mercilessly by crowds that had overwhelmed them. The King’s estates were stripped of all their possessions worth taking. It was a tragedy such as Kem had never before seen, a tear in the fabric of our lives. Including Narmer, eight Kings had reigned over Kem, growing its riches, making the Two Lands the envy of all nations, advancing it a step at a time toward its great destiny. It had taken one King only a matter of years to lay waste to all that progress. My heart ached with the thought of what we faced.

  I knew then what I needed to do, for my allegiance to Kem, the Two Lands that the gods gave to us for eternity, came before all else. As Qa’a prepared for war against his own people, I sent word to Urshte. My ka was sick with fear, and with shame, for I was about to betray the King of Kem, brother of Horus, and the very man I had helped raise.