In that pause between the next sharp expansion, Rennutet and I raised our eyebrows and stared at our classmate. Archollos offered a fleeting but genuine smile of encouragement, then he was gone.
“He is not as bad as you judge him to be,” said Rennutet, panting.
“After all, he is entitled to engage in the Ritual Acts of Love for his training.”
“What makes you think I care even a fly’s speck? Poor boy, his organ must be chafed with all that training.”
“Merit-Aten, back at Heliopolis, Archollos brought bread for me to eat after my morning sickness, and he took over my chores while I napped.”
I was astonished. “I did not know that Archollos thought about anyone but himself.”
“Sometimes he does,” Rennutet insisted. “More than you know.”
Rennutet gasped in pain at another contraction.
Rennutet had given me plenty to think about as I walked her around the room and massaged her abdomen. In between contractions, I slipped out to serve the other women for their deliveries. Raucous laughter from the outer court echoed through our chamber. Hordes of people chattered and consumed the red beer.
A very young woman at the far end of the Per Akh wailed and fought the pain. I ran to her cubicle to give aide. Two other assistants tried holding her arms down so that she wouldn’t flee. The Elder Midwife took the knife to cut her sheath away when the young woman flailed and kicked her. The knife slashed the midwife’s hand, blood gushed from the wound, and she stood in terror as the shock hit her.
“I will deliver this child,” I said. “Go get help.” I turned my attention back to the woman whose baby’s head now crowned. She fought so hard against the pain that I ordered her to stop so as not to hurt her child. Saying her superstitious prayers, she clasped her amulet and calmed herself. “Now, Push,” I commanded in no uncertain terms. Startled by my sharp tone, the woman obeyed, and her baby popped out into my waiting hands. “Ah, a healthy boy.” I gave the squalling infant to the young attendant to clean and wrap in fresh linens.
“Merit-Aten, may I see you?” called another attendant. I congratulated the new mother and stuck my head outside the curtain.
“We have a problem,” she said. “The attending midwife scheduled herself to be on duty tonight, but a messenger just summoned her to the Royal Embalmer’s house for the birth of twins. The mother has had a difficult pregnancy and feared losing the babies by traveling here. Seeing how she and her family contributed great sums to this temple, tonight’s attending midwife felt she owed the Royal Embalmer’s wife her full attention. And, because of the chaos on the waterways due to tonight’s festival, she may not return in time.”
“Who else is available? Can we find Tuat or Shemat to assist?”
“Tuat left for her village yesterday and Shemat is celebrating at the Hathor Festival. If she has already consumed beer, she will not be allowed to enter the Per Akh and help. You know the rules,” said the assistant.
“Then I shall take on tonight’s responsibilities,” I said, my voice stronger than I felt. “Hopefully, we will not be too busy. Has that noblewoman arrived yet?”
She shook her head. “No. Perhaps tomorrow.”
I went back to Rennutet’s room.
“Where were you?” she asked. “I do not want to be alone.” Her pale and angular face showed signs of lack of sleep.
I cooled her brow. “I am sorry, dear one, there has been an accident and I am the only one on duty tonight. Let me see if we can move your baby down farther. I have three who will deliver immediately. I will be back as soon as I am able.” I worried that Rennutet’s strength would fade if she labored long.
An assistant peeked her head in. “Merit-Aten, I need to see you.”
“Yes?”
“The noblewoman has arrived, and I put her in the Opulent Room.”
“Is she well into her labor?”
“I am not skilled enough to answer that,” replied the assistant, “but there is a problem.”
“I shall assess her condition,” I said, and hurried down the hall. My headdress flapped at my cheeks and kept my long hair back from my face. Thankfully, my simple blue sheath wasn’t too soiled to present myself with dignity to a Khemitian noble woman. My childhood royal finery had become a distant memory. Before entering the Opulent Room, I brushed my sheath and cleared my throat, preparing to humble myself and be in service to the upper class women who frequented these halls. These privileged few ordered us around like we were common household slaves.
I pulled back the heavy curtain and saw a broad-shouldered man with his back to me hovering in front of my new patient. The bull wore the royal insignia of the Pharonic guard.
“Greetings,” I said. “I am here to serve.”
“Hurry, there is something wrong. She bleeds.” The man said, glancing over his shoulder. “There, there, my beauty. Our child will be fine,” he whispered to his consort.
“Let us move her to the cot so that I may examine her.” He scooped up his love with those muscular arms, “Please, please help her.”
“General Horemheb?” I asked as my eyes popped. I hadn’t seen him for over two years. His intense masculine presence within the Per Akh sacred birthing chambers seemed unnatural. How could an uninitiated man be allowed to enter the womb of Hathor?
“Merit-Aten, is that you?” he said, swinging his consort around so I could see her face. “How fortuitous. Dear One, look who is here.”
Shocked, all that came out of my mouth was, “Meti?”
“I need a midwife now,” Meti said, shielding her face. It was obvious that she sought someone else. Someone with more experience than her firstborn daughter.
“I am the midwife on duty. I assure you, Meti, I am well trained,” I said, noting her mistrust.
“My little wildcat, this is no time to demand your way. Let your daughter examine you. It would be safer than calling another midwife,” said Horemheb.
“Very well,” she said through gritted teeth.
The General laid her upon the cot. Her sheath was shiny with blood.
“How far along are you?” I asked.
Meti glanced at Horemheb. “Nearly six months.”
Was that why she had refused to return to Akhet-Aten? Netri would be so worried.
“General, perhaps you would feel more comfortable outside,” I said, trying to allow us the privacy for an examination.
He stood up. “I should make sure the Festival Of Hathor proceeds with order.”
“If you dare visit those Maidens of Amem, if I so much as smell that cheap perfume upon you, I shall have your tongue cut off.” Meti’s glowering eyes promised that she would make good on her word.
Horemheb snorted. “I shall return to check upon you.” He swaggered away, and I could see the yellow flames of ego and strong will within his belly fighting her orange flames of sexual desire and need.
Meti sighed. “I do not feel well. I fell down the gang plank this afternoon on the General’s barge. It hurts. Will I lose the baby?”
“Meti, I cannot say for certain, but I am concerned. I need to call for clean linen.”
Just then an attendant beckoned outside the curtains. “May I see you?”
“Yes?” I asked.
“The noblewoman has arrived and she demands to use the Opulent Room. She said that she reserved it,” replied the attendant.
“That is odd,” I replied. “Meti, did you reserve this room?”
“Of course not. How could I have known this accident would occur?”
“The authority of the Per Aat outranks any Khemitian noblewoman,” I replied.
“No. I do not want to make a fuss,” Meti said, with caution.
I looked at her suspiciously. “That has never been a problem before. Why not claim the Opulent Room? It is the grandest suite in Denderah.”
“Because I hope not to draw attention to my circumstances. You can see this child is the fruit of General Horemheb’s loins, not of your father’s.
”
I stared at her, speechless.
“Is the room available or not?” screamed an angry woman.
“Yes. Tell whoever it is she can have it. Is there another way out?” Meti asked.
“Yes, the attendant’s door is through that small flap.”
I helped her outside just as I heard an entourage of people push their way in. Once Meti settled into a much plainer room, I assessed her. When I examined her abdomen, there was no little light. The baby had died. Then I remembered the thymus gland determines whether a mother will keep her child.
“Meti, please forgive me,” I said and sent a blue electrical pulse through her thymus gland.
She grabbed her belly. “What is happening?”
“I am sorry. The child in your womb has died. You must expel it. I shall be right back.”
I ran to Rennutet, who was squatting on the bricks, covered in blood, and wailing.
Fear embroiled me. “Rennutet, what is wrong?”
“I do not feel well,” she said.
“Let me examine you.” I felt the baby’s head crown. Rennutet’s belly tightened with another contraction.
“I do not feel strong enough to push,” said Rennutet weakly.
“You must try! Do you understand me? If you do not expel this child, you are both doomed to west. I cannot shield you from the truth.” I looked at the fragile girl. Above her head, the death portal formed. I remembered that Pentu had warned me not to interfere again.
The attendant gave a worried look. “Merit-Aten, the people in the Opulent Room demand to see the acting midwife.”
“Is the woman laboring?” I asked.
“Her expansions are far apart. But you really should come.”
“I am delivering a baby right at this moment, and I shall see them in a short while.”
Rennutet hemorrhaged. She squatted as her life spilled out between her legs. She would soon rejoice to be free of physical form. Rennutet screamed. Her ragged breath caught. “Dear Friend, declare the Lustration of the Invocation to the Rites of Osiris.”
She called me a dear friend. I had never had a dear friend before. Why was it when I opened my heart to someone they left me? And usually by death. Tears threatened, but I willed them away. I had to be strong.
“Push hard,” I ordered.
With the last bit of energy she could summon, the fragile girl expelled her tiny daughter into the light. I held the babe close to her mother so their two hearts could say goodbye. I waited for the placenta. The blood coursed harder. The placenta emerged, and so did Rennutet’s uterus. I held her hand as the life drained from her body.
“Let me go this time,” she whispered. “I should never have easted into this world. Perhaps I only came forth to bear this daughter.”
Now I allowed those silent tears to come. I looked down at my dear friend’s bloody newborn and saw her as she truly was. “She is beautiful and she glows golden. Like Hathor, she too is the daughter of Ra. The power of the Cosmic Light of your initiations is evident in her constitution.
Go forth, Rennutet. Safe passage. Return to your divine celestial essence.”
I commenced the Lustration of the Invocation and as I said the last word, Rennutet’s peaceful spirit escaped through the door I opened. Tears dripped down my cheeks. My friend would be happy at last.
“The woman in the Opulent Room demands your attention,” said the attendant.
Why tonight when I was the only one here? My legs felt weak.
“And the woman you sent down to the far room is calling for you,” the attendant continued.
“Find a wet-nurse and care for this child until I return,” I said. “She is dear to my heart.”
I raced back to Meti’s room and saw that she had refused to allow anyone else to assist her. The Per Aat of all Khemit crumpled over; her kohl liner smeared her cheeks. “I cannot believe my baby died,” she said sorrowfully.
“It is the will of Aten.” I put my arm around her. “It was not strong enough to enter into this world, and we must send its soul back to the celestial abode.”
A short while later Meti birthed a thin, lifeless baby.
“A boy.” Meti’s voice caught on a sob. “The General would have been so proud to have a son.” She held out her hands. “Let me hold him.” I gently gave her the tiny body then began to clean her up.
She sang a lullaby to the stillborn as she rocked.
“Merit-Aten,” she said through tears. “When it is your time to rule, you will make your own difficult decisions. And as I am the Per Aat, no one can ever condemn me for producing more heirs, heirs to carry on your father’s dream. I could have any man in Khemit, yet your father no longer desires me. However inspirational a spiritual marriage might be, it does not bring forth new akh. So do not judge me, Daughter.”
“There is no place in my heart for judgment, Meti. The dream of ruling together in service to the Aten has set like the sun for Father and you. You have taken a different path, and I hope that General Horemheb can fill your heart as well as your bed.”
“The General is good to me. He does not treat me as a Per Aat but as a normal woman. He taught me to drive a chariot, shoot arrows, and ride a horse. He makes me feel alive.” She spoke with a dreamy smile. “This would have been my last child. I am too old to keep trying. It seems that youth has left me as dry as this desert air.”
“Women far older still bear healthy strong akh,” I said, thinking of Ti-Yee.
“I have miscarried two times before. Lately my moods are dark as a tomb. The only thing I savor now is a goblet of sweet wine and time with the General,” she said with dullness, like a piece of her had wested along with this child. She fell asleep. I took the infant from her, cleaned him, and wrapped him in fresh linens, then laid the body next to her.
The noblewoman in the Opulent Room waited. The exuberant festivities reigned in the Denderah courtyard. Cheers echoed through the night, and Hathor must have been smiling down upon the mirthful. This time when I glanced at my blood-stained tunic, I knew I would make a terrible impression upon the expectant mother. I cleansed my hands in the basin, threw on a fresh attendant’s robe, and replaced my headdress with another longer one that drooped over my face.
“How may I be in service to you?” I said upon entrance into the Opulent Room.
Suddenly, I felt as though I was kicked in the stomach. It couldn’t be. That woman had no right to enter here.
“Are you in charge?” asked Sit-Amun in a demanding voice without the slightest indication she knew my identity. A young pregnant woman cowered between two handmaidens. Yet, I couldn’t pry my eyes away from the enlarged belly of Sit-Amun. She too was pregnant? How could we all have assumed her to be barren? Of all people, I had no desire to assist that murderess, Sit-Amun, not after she killed Hep-Mut, nearly assassinated my father, and tried to trap me with evil magic.
Was there no one else on duty? I couldn’t serve two women at once.
“Another one,” said a female near hysteria. “It hurts so badly.”
I glanced around. A third pregnant young woman huddled in the corner.
“Who are these women?” I asked.
Shadow of the Sun (The Shadow Saga) Page 37
