Qa'a (The First Dynasty Book 3)

by Lester Picker

  “Irisi, there… you know you need not do this. It is a foolish choice and one I hope to convince you too reconsider.”

  “My heart is settled,” she replied and I noted that her makeup, as artfully as it was applied, could not hide her red eyes and drawn face. “There is no changing it. I have come only to arrange it with your representative, whoever that may be. I wish my passing to be in the company of my sister priestesses.”

  “Irisi, please, I know you are upset…”

  “You know? What do you know, Merkha? Do you know of my torment over sweet Banafrit’s murder, or poor Mume’s or innocent Nafre’s? Do you understand the depths of my anguish over Amisi’s decay into a cowering mut? Yes, tell me all you know, Chief Priest, for you and I are tightly woven together into the cloth of this conspiracy that now smothers me.”

  Was there an answer I could have given this nurturing mother of all Kem’s mothers? Was there an answer that mattered even the slightest, a thin thread that she could then place into the outstretched hands of Isis to help pull her from the pool of guilt and shame in which she now floundered? In that instant I realized that there was nothing I could say or do, for this beautiful woman who stood before me had already chosen her path. All I could do was ease her passage. We hugged then and cried on each other’s shoulder, amidst my weak words of persuasion that did not change her settled heart.

  As I released her she breathed in and regained her strength. “By far, you choose the more difficult path, Merkha. It is not as if I do not believe in the path that Nomti is on. I believe it is right for Kem. You and Urshte, and perhaps even Woserit, have much to do before the Two Lands become one people. I would help if I felt I could, but I am spent. You do understand?”

  I shook my head and held my hands fast on her shoulders. Tears still wet my cheeks. This extraordinary woman could have helped us in our cause to create one people. In the end I understood the pain she bore, for the goddess Isis is a nurturer, not a warrior. I bid Irisi farewell until the time when I would see her in a few days to be present in her passing. That image caused me to nearly faint and I grabbed my chair rail as soon as she turned to leave.

  At our meeting the next day, I informed Nomti and Urshte of Irisi’s decision. They were both shocked and their moods darkened.

  “I feel as if someone has torn out a piece of my heart,” Nomti said, turning his head away from us to hide his tears. “Woserit will be devastated.”

  “It would surprise me if Woserit does not already know,” I suggested. “Irisi confides in her.”

  “You are right,” Nomti said. “Irisi probably swore her to secrecy until she discussed it with you.” Urshte nodded in agreement.

  “I have not told you this next thing because of the press of time in the Delta,” I continued, “but General Nebibi also chose this path.”

  “What do you mean?” Nomti asked.

  “I believe he could have rallied and recovered from his wounds, for we all know he was strong as a lion. He called me to his side and told me that he knew of our plot. He supported it and called us brave.”

  “He did not have to leave us. We could have used a man with his experience. I always liked the man, even though we sometimes disagreed.”

  “He was a simple soldier,” Urshte said. “He watched Qa’a bring us to ruin, yet he did not understand your vision for Kem, Nomti. It was too complex for him to comprehend.”

  “He was of a different time,” I said. “He understood that a new Kem must emerge from the ashes of the old, but he knew not how to move that vision forward, nor how to live in that world. His eyes were set in the past.” We all sat silently thinking on that.

  “This will be another thing I will have nothing to do with,” Nomti abruptly said. “These burials are barbaric. I shall have none others accompany me to the Afterlife until it is their natural time to join me.”

  “But it is the right of your servants to choose,” I argued. “You cannot take that away from them.”

  “What purpose do they serve? They deprive Kem of its best people, those who know how to run the palace, who know how to cook, to clean. And when senior advisors accompany the King, Kem is suddenly without the wisdom of its brightest leaders. Irisi’s decision breaks my heart. It is altogether foolish. The Afterlife is already filled with those who would gladly serve me there when it comes my time to journey to the Afterworld.”

  I could see Nomti’s reasoning, yet I also knew that our traditions are powerful forces in our lives. “Would you at least continue thinking about this?” I asked.

  “We shall see,” Nomti said, but I knew he was only postponing an argument that he had already settled. I used this break to call for servants to replenish our food and drink.

  “In five more days, Qa’a, Khenemet and Buikkhu will be buried,” Urshte said. “Much has happened since our return and much still must be done before the funerals.”

  “Where do matters now rest?” Nomti asked.

  “Hamu has taken a strong stand on your ascension with the priests in Nekhen. They are in daily prayer over this matter. Since there are no blood lines directly from Qa’a, this is a very troubling issue for them. As a group they are frightened and know not where to turn for guidance. They are listening to anyone they see as an ally of the priesthood, Hamu in particular. With Hamu’s insistence, I believe they will formally support you and call for your ascension in a day’s time, perhaps two or three.”

  “I can only imagine Hamu’s anger toward Qa’a,” Nomti mused as he reached for a mug of water.

  “Queen Amisi lives in Nekhen now, in his house, where he and his second wife take care of her,” Urshte continued. “The priests know they cannot even make a pretense of her ruling as regent. Since Banafrit’s death she has retreated into an empty shell. She can no longer bear a child, so the priests know they would just be delaying the inevitable.”

  “And the fact is,” I added, “that there is none other in the priesthood who is strong enough to challenge what we have put into motion. In his quest for power, Khenemet kept all others, except for Buikkhu, from assuming leadership. They are quite confused themselves and are looking for leadership for Kem, but obviously for the Horus priesthood. Other well known merchants believe in your vision and are also pressuring them to decide soon in your favor.”

  Nomti nodded as he listened. “And the rest of Upper Kem? Lower Kem, too, for that matter.”

  “Well, you know that the governors of the nomes in Lower Kem have already thrown their support to you,” Urshte said.

  “And in Upper Kem, you have influential allies amongst businessmen and women, as well as the governors,” I added. “They all see how greater trade opportunities and peaceful relations with Lower Kem will help their villages to grow and prosper.”

  “Another thing in your favor. I have researched the scrolls going back to King Narmer and find that in every case the man who officiates at the King’s funeral always ascends at the next appearance of Ra’s full silver disk. So shall it be with you, Nomti. You are a master at details. Even Buikkhu was no match for you. The army officers have also deferred to your leadership.”

  “And smoothly, too,” Urshte said.

  “What shall we do about your Horus King name?” I asked. “Have you thought about that?”

  “I will leave it to you two to make suggestions, for I know nothing of how that is done.”

  “We will make suggestions,” Urshte said, looking at me, “but it is up to you to choose the one that feels proper.”

  “Agreed. Now let us discuss the funerary arrangements.”

  On the day of the funeral, Ra’s rays were obscured by an unusual formation of clouds that dotted the sky. I huddled with my fellow priests and we pronounced that this omen was propitious for the burial of a King, Chief Priest and Vizier, for the gods in the sky were surely troubled until all was settled.

  As was the custom among Horus priests, we buried Khenemet and Buikkhu in a simple desert grave as soon as there was enough light in
the sky to do so. Only Horus priests attended. We were carried back to the palace through the streets of Inabu-hedj. The main street was crowded with people five and six deep stretching from the palace to Mother Nile’s shore, where a boat was tied up that would carry Qa’a’s body upriver to the Royal cemetery. A flotilla of boats from the Royal family floated nearby, ready to accompany us on our journey.

  As I entered the palace, Urshte was giving final instructions to the pallbearers and to the servants who would sweep the dirt before them so Qa’a’s body would enter Anubis’ presence presentably. Nomti walked out of a side room with his new army chief at his side.

  “We should talk,” Urshte said. “There are last moment details.” He pointed to the side room that Nomti had just left.

  “Some in the Royal family are dissatisfied with the possibility that Nomti might ascend,” Urshte started. I could not imagine that this would be a surprise to any of us.

  “I say we should discuss this tomorrow, for today we must focus on the King’s burial.”

  “I agree,” Nomti said, “for this morning is the beginning of the end of a great and noble family. I shake in my sandals over what the end of King Narmer’s line means for the Two Lands.”

  He had said it. He had voiced the fear that gripped my throat and, I was certain, Urshte’s, too. And I thought to myself that the other two were thinking the same thing I was at that moment. What else might be the beginning of the end?

  SCROLL THIRTY-THREE

  End of the Beginning

  Urshte

  “I find it hard to get used to being called Hotepsekhemwy.” I looked at the newly ascended King of all Kem, astounded that what we had planned for so long had finally come to pass.

  “As I am finding it hard to be called Vizier,” I said, holding up my right arm with the Gold band wrapped around it. We both laughed, the first time we had done so in several months.

  “Yet, I think you chose wisely from among the names Merkha and I offered. Hotepsekhemwy - The Two Powers Are Reconciled - describes all you have done, Nom… I mean, Hotep.” We smiled at my mistake. “No, truly, even those of Qa’a’s family have come to embrace you. The priests of Horus and Apep, the priestesses of Isis, they believe in your vision. There have been no insurrections since the army left the Delta.”

  “I still cannot believe that I am King of the Two Lands, Urshte.” Hotep took a breath, grabbed the arms of his chair and stood. “We have work to do my friend, much work.”

  “I am ready.”

  “You are always ready, Urshte. You were ready before I was.”

  “I have only had one wish in this life and it has been accomplished through you, Master.”

  “Do not call me Master, Urshte. It makes me feel uncomfortable. We both know it is I who report to you!”

  “I know you joke, but I can tell you that I have only one purpose now and that is to serve you well. I will do all in my power to help you succeed in uniting the Two Lands, truly uniting them.”

  “I know that, Urshte, and I thank you. So let us begin. Do you have the governor list prepared?”

  “I do.”

  “And it includes the names of the Delta nobles I wish to appoint?”

  “They… yes, it does, Hotep.” I paused, not knowing if I should say what was on my mind.

  “You hesitate.”

  “Are you sure of this… this next step?” I asked, feeling my own heart racing with all that Hotep’s answer might imply. To his credit, he hesitated before answering. He arose and paced to the white stone portico that overlooked Mother Nile. He scanned the view, over the fields of farmers passing buckets of water to irrigate their green fields, past the fishermen casting their nets upon Mother Nile’s abundant waters, past the dusty roads and the caravans laden with goods that dotted their winding course.

  “Since Narmer, Kem has not witnessed change such as we have wrought. Yet, look at this, Urshte, look at our wondrous land, look at its people. In that nothing has changed. It is the same as ever.” Now he turned to face me.

  “You ask if I am sure of what we must do next. In truth, I am not sure of any of this,” he said, and the doubt he felt was reflected in the furrows of his face. If I had not seen him recently, I would say that he had aged ten years or more. He walked back to the chair opposite mine, his shoulders more slumped than ever I had seen. He sat with a sigh, as if the burdens he now carried suddenly became real and weighed heavily on his shoulders.

  “From my youth to adulthood, all I ever dreamed of doing was being a successful merchant, trading far and wide to enrich my family and contributing to Kem’s prosperity. That alone would have made me happy.

  “It is interesting, Urshte,” he continued. “When I was a youth, my tutoring included reading the holy scrolls of the priest Anhotek, loyal servant of God-King Narmer, may his name be blessed for all eternity.” Hotep lifted his face to the sky, his eyes closed.

  “At one point he records something that King Narmer said, that until this day I truly did not understand… at least not fully. The King had just had the holy shakes and he explained to Anhotek the vision that the gods, that Horus himself, had visited upon him.”

  “I know the very section of Anhotek’s scrolls you describe,” I said.

  “Yes, I’m sure you do. And here it is before us, as plain as Ra’s light. Mother Nile flows from Kush to Wadj-Wer in one uninterrupted flow. She blesses us and sustains us, every last one of our people, from the lowliest rekhi to the King, papyrus and lotus together. Narmer knew that Kem’s greatness lies in us living as an undivided people, bound as we are to Mother Nile’s gifts. That is her most wondrous, unspoken gift to us, the gift of oneness.”

  Hotep leaned back in his seat, his fingers clasped on his chest. “It is time, Urshte. For better or worse, as the gods choose, we must embrace our destiny as one people, one undivided people. I will start with my Council and make it representative of all of my people, not just Upper Kemians. We will expand trade, so that all benefit, and we will distribute contracts equally between north and south.” I wrote down his words as quickly as I could.

  “We will listen to the needs of Lower Kem, not as a subjugated people, but knowing that as they grow and prosper, so will we all. For all time we will end this petty squabbling so that we join forces and thus create an army that protects the Two Lands and expands our influence.” In Hotep’s excitement I saw him that day, for the first time, relax. He breathed in deeply and I also saw the full measure of the man I was destined to serve.

  “Is that all?” I asked when he had paused.

  “Yes. I am done for now.”

  “Then so it shall be,” I said, wiping my quill feather on a writing cloth, rolling up the scroll and tying it. Hotep stood and again walked to the portico. He rested his hands on the railing.

  “Yes, and so shall it be,” he said, smiling. His gaze took in mighty Mother Nile as she flowed, wide and swift, creating a ribbon of green as far as his eyes could see. The soft rustling of the papyrus heads was carried on the air. He breathed in the scents of the Two Lands, of the lotus and papyrus, borne on Mother Nile’s gentle breeze.

  “And so shall it be.”

  Afterward

  While much of this book is accurate based on our scant knowledge of life during the First Dynasty, the entire story line is, of course, fiction. The dilemma every historical fiction writer faces is to weave a story that is as accurate as possible while still captivating readers.

  Both Qa’a and Hotepsekhemwy were actual historical figures. We do not know the circumstances that led to the end of the First and the beginning of the Second Dynasties.

  Records indicate that Hotepsekhemwy reigned for 38 years as the first King of the Second Dynasty, a long time by the standards of the day. His Horus name is significant, although we do not know the details of why “The Two Powers Are Reconciled” was selected. Obviously, I was intrigued by this and used it as a basis for the plot.