The powerful crave ma’at. Change is unacceptably frightening to them. If nothing else, our eventual rule after a period of chaos would bring welcome stability throughout the Two Lands. The sheer audacity of our strategy alone would catch the power structure of Upper Kem by surprise. For trade, treasure and family the merchants of Upper Kem would welcome us when the time came.
Yet it was not a rebellious plan that we hatched. No, our plan was a gradual one, insidious, subtle, each act seemingly unconnected to the next so that, in the end, the powerful of Upper Kem would not know what had really happened. Even Amka, assuming he was alive and would eventually catch on to our strategy, would be powerless to reverse it. If the gods favored our plans, we could be in power within ten years, perhaps five if they admired and rewarded our boldness. Even the grandest and strongest structures cannot withstand the relentless gnawing of insects, and in Upper Kem the vermin were the plague of corrupt civil servants and wealthy noblemen who would do our bidding.
The key was communication among the small group comprising our cabal. We would need to strengthen our network of spies and informers. We would have to bring on wealthy individuals who could fund our efforts and who saw the potential for their own gains as we rose to power, for it would take much gold, silver and jewels to bribe and reward our way down this path.
It was late in the night when mother and I finally celebrated our initial victory, the death of Djet and the birth of a plan. We dined on fresh baked bread, drank fine Babylonian wine and ate an assortment of fruits, meats and cheeses. We lit candles to our patron goddess Neith and then prayed to Apep for him to aid the strength and cunning of Khnum and Bakht. With mother gone back to the palace, I went to bed, apprehensive, yet contented that we had finally begun the arduous journey down the road to a victorious Lower Kem.
Sekhemkasedj snored loudly on the opposite side of our large bedroom. I had long ago appealed to him to allow us to sleep separately, for my duties as Chief Priestess often kept me out late. We hardly ever had sexual relations any more, since Sekhem worked so hard. He had also gained much weight over the years and was usually as uninterested in sex as I was in having it with him. Yet tonight I was too tense, too excited to sleep.
I went to the side of his bed and reached under the sheet. I found his tiny organ and began to massage it with my hand. He snorted mightily, and turned away from me, but did not wake yet. I persisted and put my hands between his thighs and grabbed his balls and squeezed. He awoke with a great start.
“What…? What in Horus’ name…?” he sputtered, sitting upright.
“It is only me, dearest,” I whispered. “I know you had a hard day and I have not been a good wife to you lately. Allow me to make it up to you, if only in this little way.” I grabbed his penis and began rubbing the head between my fingers.
“I was asleep,” he protested weakly.
“And so you shall be again shortly,” I responded, knowing all too well how true that probably was. But I was determined not to go to sleep frustrated this time. As soon as he hardened, I climbed on top of him.
It was difficult to get the right angle for my pleasure, so big was Sekhem’s girth. But, by putting a blanket under him and bending back just so, I soon began to enjoy the sensation of having a man in me once again. Just as I was beginning to climb the mountain, Sekhem suddenly cried out and shot his seed. In seconds, he closed his eyes again and with me still thrusting above him, started snoring. Disgusted with him, and with my own weakness of the flesh, I dismounted him. Back in my own bed I finished what I had started.
As soon as Ra emerged over the horizon, my servant, Hentu, awakened me as I had instructed her. As she prepared my bath, I rehearsed in my mind what it was I needed to do that day. Hentu showed no signs that she knew of anything amiss in the palace. I smiled, for I knew that Amka would call a secret meeting upon hearing of Wadjet’s death and would spend the entire night creating a plan for how to handle it before announcing the tragedy to the Two Lands. His predictability was my ally.
I dressed, drank my herb tea and then walked the short distance to the palace. Two of my acolytes walked alongside me, waiting for me to assign them their daily tasks. I admired their lithe bodies and eager, unquestioning attitudes. They were both from Upper Kem, which I knew would work in my favor when I drew them, unwitting, into our scheme. For now we walked the dusty street among the rekhi who scurried by us, chasing their goats or carrying wares to and from the market. Two feral cats fought in an alley over the carcass of a mouse.
As we approached the palace, I closed my eyes and drew in two sen-sen cleansing breaths, for I knew that by tomorrow, the scenes on the street would radically change. For an elderly king to die was dreaded, but normal, and even then the rekhi and privileged alike would live in fear until the new king was crowned. But Wadjet was young and all Kemians would view this time as terribly auspicious. With ma’at so fragile, no one would conduct business other than purchases of life sustaining food and medicines.
When we arrived at the palace, the guard contingent had been doubled. I turned to my acolytes. “Kainefuru, Nyla, hurry to the temple,” I said in my most serious voice. “Tell Peshet to assemble all the priestesses immediately. Isis whispers to me that something terrible may happen. We must pray for Kem.”
Both girls held their breath and blanched. They turned to face each other in fear. “What is it, mother?” Nyla asked.
“I can’t say for sure, but I sense that when I cross into the palace the blessings of Isis will be required. Tell Peshet to have runners available to send messages to our temples. Return here quickly for further instructions. Hurry girls!” With that they hiked up their robes and ran off and I entered the palace.
As I walked toward Mery’s wing, I saw a group of men leaving one of the meeting rooms and huddling in the corridor, weariness in their expressions. Just as I came abreast of the group Amka walked through the doorway, nearly bumping into me.
“Oh, I’m sorry Nubiti!” he apologized, backing away from me. He leaned heavily on his staff. Heavy bags drooped from his eyes.
“Have you heard the news?” he asked.
Mother and I had prepared for this conversation. “What news?” I asked. “I have just come to visit with Mery.”
“That is fortuitous,” Amka replied, “for Mery will need you. The King is dead.” I gasped loudly.
“Dead? Surely this is a poor attempt at humor,” I said, doing my best to rise to the occasion.
“It is true,” Amka responded. “We only found out last night. This is a terrible tragedy and it will have great implications for Kem.”
“But… but how did he…?”
Amka leaned forward and placed his forehead on his staff. He looked far older than his years. “He died from body poison,” Amka said.
“Poison?” My thoughts raced with visions of Khnum and Bakht conspiring behind my back.
“Body poison,” Amka sighed. “He had a purulent tooth and the stubbornness of his ba was his undoing. He neglected to take his medication and he refused to have his tooth pulled and so the poison spread throughout his body. This type of thing is usually confined to the rekhi. The army tried to march him home, but he died while still in the Red Land, on the caravan route. We… we are shocked, for he was otherwise a healthy man.”
“By the goodness of Isis, Amka, what are we to do?” Fortunately, tears now streamed down my eyes.
“It is interesting that you ask that, Nubiti, for the Council has formulated plans to guide us through this delicate period. I was about to summon you and your mother to the palace to ask for your help.”
“Anything, Amka. We… we’ll help in any way we can.”
“Good, but we must also hear this from your mother, Nubiti, for as the Second Queen she alone can speak with any authority for Lower Kem. This is a difficult time for us all. When the King is dead, mut spirits roam the land creating danger and ill will. Now is not the time for divisions between our people. She must actively conduct affa
irs that keep the lid on Lower Kem.”
“I agree, Amka. Mother will, too, I’m sure.” I felt a chill run through me, for the next step of our strategy was being handed to us on a platter. “But, this is terrible news, indeed. Does Mery know yet?”
“Yes, of course.” Amka looked at me for a moment. “You know she is no longer a child, Nubiti.” I stared back at Amka, surprised at his comment.
“She is still my little sister,” I retorted. “Nothing can ever change that bond which Isis mortars between two women. Whether in love or hatred the sisterly bond endures.”
Amka nodded. “True enough, although I do not pretend to understand such bonds. This I do know. Mery would welcome your presence. Ti-Ameny is with her now. Go.”
As soon as I entered Mery’s chambers she burst into tears and ran into my arms. “Oh, Nubiti,” she sobbed, “I… ohhh…” and she cried out, wailing. I had to hold her to keep her from falling to the floor.
“Shhh, my sister.” I shuffled her to a nearby chair and sat, rocking her gently until her sobs lessened. In a moment, I could feel her asleep, interrupted every so often by a shudder as she breathed in deeply.
“What’s happening with Zenty?” I whispered to Ti-Ameny.
“He is with Abana. We have not told him yet what has happened, although he will not understand it, anyway.” Ti-Ameny was without makeup. Her basket of medicines was open on a small table next to the bed. “I have given her a quieting herb. She will sleep most of the time.”
Ti-Ameny helped me carry Mery to her bed and we covered her with a linen sheet. For several minutes we both stood over her, watching, as she tossed fitfully.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Ti-Ameny shudder.
“These are unpredictable times,” I offered.
“Unpredictable? They are dangerous times,” Ti-Ameny countered. “Wadjet’s ka walks between two worlds and I fear that he carries the fate of the Two Lands with him.”
“What do you fear?” I asked.
“Fear? I fear plague. I fear deaths in childbirth. I fear Mother Nile withholding her floods. I fear dissension. I… do you not have fear in your heart?”
“To be honest, Ti-Ameny, I haven’t had time yet to think. I only learned of the King’s death.” With that Ti-Ameny turned toward Mery and stroked her hair lightly.
“I’ll begin a period of solemn prayer with our sisters in the temple,” I told her. “Wadjet was a good man and his heart was light, but it wouldn’t hurt for Isis to intervene, would it?” Ti-Ameny nodded and I took my leave to go back to the temple. No sooner had I left the palace then my two personal acolytes joined me. They had just heard the news.
Each had rent her robes and had streaks of kohl running down their faces. I, too, tore a seam of my gown. The streets of Inabu-hedj were in commotion. People wailed as they heard the terrible news, tearing at their clothes. Mothers ran about looking for their children and husbands. Merchants busied themselves closing their stalls. People strode by each other without looking at faces, for fear of the evil eye. A woman scurried by, her face partially hidden by her shawl, her one exposed eye covered with two fingers that warded off the evil eye of others. Goats bleated as they were herded quickly back to the courtyards of their owners. Dogs barked incessantly.
My two acolytes dropped to their knees, each one grabbing the hem of my robe. “You were right, mother, something was amiss. Isis sent you a message. You are a seer.”
We rushed together to the temple where a crowd of perhaps two hundred women awaited outside, each one carrying an offering seeking the protection of Isis. When I arrived a great noise arose, but not one of joy, rather one of great anguish and sorrow. Women reached out to touch me and I tried to offer comforting words and an understanding touch to each group I passed.
Once inside I instructed the priestesses on what to do and soon we had alters set up throughout the temple. Acolytes and priestesses brought groups of women into the temple to burn incense and to chant the loving prayers to Isis. Mothers asked for protection for their children, barren women requested blessings for their husbands and families.
The other priestesses encouraged me to offer words of comfort to the crowd and so I mounted the steps of the temple. Women shushed each other as I stood before them and in a moment silence fell.
“Women of Inabu-hedj, visitors, my sister priestesses,” I said, holding my arms open and turning to encompass them all. Heads bowed down. A few women held their hands up toward me, as if to grab my words from the air and gather them into their hearts.
“A tragedy’s been thrust upon us. I just learned that Wadjet, our King is dead, and so soon after the death of his father, Djer, may his name be blessed.”
“But you were warned of this before it happened!” a woman yelled from deep inside the crowd.
I looked to my priestesses and saw a few with prideful smiles. So, the word had already spread from my two personal acolytes to the priestesses and now to the crowds of women who had arrived at the temple before me. I instantly saw how this unintended consequence of our plot might benefit us.
“Yes, it is true that Isis visited me before this tragedy and warned me that something evil was to transpire and so I was able to fulfill my duty to the poor Queen, who’s in deep mourning.
“I ask that all of you gathered here say a prayer and give offerings to Isis, mother of us all, guardian of women throughout the Two Lands. Join our sisters in praying for the King’s ka as he journeys to the Afterlife. Pray that Anubis and Thoth find Wadjet’s heart to be lighter than a feather so that he may journey to Osiris’ side and live abundantly and watch over us for all eternity.” I paused, pulled the hood of my robe over my head and turned my head to the skies, eyes closed.
“And don’t forget to include Queen Mery in your prayers, for her ka is but an empty shell as her beloved husband journeys between worlds.” Women whispered the prayers taught them by their mothers and soon a cacophony of ritual wailing engulfed the crowd. I stood before the women and offered prayer after prayer for their safety and comfort while their King was in the cold, dark ether of Nun.
The rest of the day was spent in prayer, even late into the evening. I slept for a few hours with my sisters in the temple that night, only to be awakened in the early morning by one of mother’s trusted messengers. I dressed quickly and followed her to the palace. But instead of going to mother’s quarters, I was taken to Amka’s.
Amka’s space in the palace was sparse, consisting of no more than one large room with a meeting table for ten, a corner with a few rush chairs with comfortable stuffed cushions, and a study table where Amka always seemed to have scrolls opened. In fact, he usually slept at the Temple of Horus compound, on the other side of Inabu-hedj. Although I had never personally seen his quarters there, I was informed that it consisted of no more than a wooden bed, straw mattress and four walls in what was generously described as a storage closet. On the rare occasions when he had business late into the night at the palace, he was known to nap for an hour, never more, right on his desk, looking for all Ra’s creation like a corpse. He lay flat on his back, hands folded across his chest, unmoving until, as if awakened by some unseen god, he simply awoke, stood up and resumed business completely refreshed.
By time I arrived, it was immediately apparent that mother and Amka sat in their chairs in decided discomfort. Mother pretended to sip at a medicinal tea that Amka’s assistant had prepared. I knew that she despised the bitter taste of his concoctions and she suspected he therefore intentionally served them to her.
Amka struggled to stand as I entered. “No, please Amka, stay seated,” I said, holding out my hand to him. He held it lightly for a moment and motioned me to an empty chair. I sat and his assistant poured me a mug of tea.
“I was just telling the Queen that King Wadjet’s body should arrive in Inabu-hedj tomorrow or the day after,” Amka began. In his weariness I could see pain in his eyes, although he would hardly allow himself the luxury of grieving when so much need
ed to be done.
“The most important thing now is that we must agree to the details of a pact between us that would allow for an orderly transition,” he continued, looking intently at mother as he spoke. To her credit, mother stared back at him without the slightest trace of emotion.
“So, lay out your plans to us,” mother said with an inflection of bitterness, “for I’m sure that you and your Council have plotted every detail of what’s to transpire.” I admired how readily mother took on the role of the bitter Second Queen with Amka. I smiled inwardly at our ability to play the great Horus priest for a fool.
Amka took a sip of tea and very deliberately placed his mug on the small table beside him. “That is not the purpose of this meeting,” he said. “Our plans so far have more to do with the proper preparation of the King’s body for the Afterlife and deciding which of his devoted servants will accompany him on his journey… the list of volunteers is far longer than the available burial sites. The fact that the King is so young and his death unexpected means that his tomb is not nearly completed. The logistics leading to his burial in seventy days is… well… daunting would be a good word.” Not until that very moment had I considered the enormous responsibilities that rested on Amka’s narrow shoulders.
Amka sat back in his seat and took a deep breath. “Nubiti, your mother and I have always been direct with each other, and I hope we can always be such, so here it is. These are very delicate times. The fate of all of Kem floats in the fog of the netherworld with our King, until he is buried and the new King named and ma’at restored. We need to negotiate an agreement, one that will be agreeable to Upper and Lower Kem, and then you will need to have Khnum buy into it…”
The Dagger of Isis (The First Dynasty Book 2) Page 12
