“This is the liver of a traitor, an abomination to Apep, whom we serve unquestioningly,” I heard Bakht say. As he spoke, his hands red with blood, he cut thin strips from the liver. “Let all who worship Apep take a piece of the body of this traitor. Eat it so that you may forever recall his traitorous acts, so that we may forever curse the act that shames us all, and that we may forever know the fate that awaits those who defile the mighty Apep.” Each man in the circle held out his hand as Bakht distributed a small piece of his grisly offering. When they were done, Pakhneter still stood, pale, blood pumping from his wound. He appeared dazed, looking confused as if trying to comprehend what was happening to him.
With a nod from Bakht, the two men who held Pakhneter bent him low to the ground, his head over the bowl. Now Bakht took hold of the man’s hair and tilted his head back. I swear that I saw a look of peace and resignation on Pakhneter’s face. With one swift motion, Bakht cut his head from ear to ear and his blood pulsed into the bowl. When most of it had emptied, Bakht’s assistant made the final cuts that severed Pakhneter’s head from his body. By now I stared, so shocked by this horrid display that my emotions left me entirely. I felt as if I witnessed this ghastly spectacle from afar.
How it happened I do not recall, but I soon found myself outside with Khnum, walking in the sand toward Wadj-wer, gulping its fresh air. I knew not how the ceremony had ended or if, in fact, it had. My mind was dazed. I followed my heart and it led me into the salty embrace of Wadj-Wer, where I sank to my knees in her sands and let her waves pour over me again and again. I splashed water over my face and rubbed until it stung, yet I knew then as I do now that I would never be able to wash away the dark, malevolent spirits that had soaked into every pore of my skin and had violated my ka.
In time I felt myself awaken from the horrors of what I had witnessed and looked up to find Khnum standing in the water next to me. “I wish to be alone for a few moments,” I said firmly and without emotion.
“Of course,” Khnum replied, and to his credit he walked away without further comment. Alone, I said silent prayers to Isis and thanked Wadj-Wer for cleansing me to the best of his ability. I tried to think of what had just transpired in the secret room, to draw some lesson from it, but my heart was still clouded and raw and my thoughts muddled. Instead, I stood and walked to Khnum.
“And your purpose for bringing me here tonight?” I asked as coldly as I could. In the moonlight I could see Khnum recoil.
“I… umm, it was… perhaps I should not have done so. Perhaps it was premature after all.”
“Answer my question, Uncle.”
For a full minute Khnum stood there, the waves lapping against his feet and said nothing. Finally, he turned toward the water and spoke as he peered out into the unyielding darkness.
“These aren’t normal times we face, Nubiti. These are dark… dark and difficult times. We stand on a knife’s edge, between our past and our future. We are only a few generations removed from King W’ash and his noble battle to save us from Narmer’s grandiose plans for Unification. This,” he said scooping up a handful of sand and closing it in his fist, “this was our land, our home, our destiny. If we do not act soon, we will lose our right to it forever. We will be buried in the mist of history and our grandchildren will have nothing… nothing.” With that he threw the sand into the waters.
“I don’t disagree with you, but you still haven’t answered my question.”
“Serious times require serious methods,” Khnum shouted, turning toward me “What you saw was to help you understand that we’ll stop at nothing to achieve our aims. Nothing! Lower Kem will be free once again to choose its destiny, no matter what it takes. And if you are true to your word, you will be the one to lead us!” He emphasized those final words by jamming the finger of his right hand into his left palm.
“I’ll tell you this for sure, Nubiti. Those priests will well remember what took place tonight. Word will spread. If other traitors hide in our midst, this will bring them to the surface for no one here tonight will dare to be associated with them. And once Pakhneter’s headless body is found and his sons with him, the businessmen and priests who support The Abomination who pollutes the very notion of King of Kem will tremble in their sandals. Those passionate enough to deal out terror will always dominate the weak and fearful.”
“And what about the Army? If these terrorist acts continue, Meryt-Neith will send in her soldiers.”
“Ha! To do what? Who will they battle, the rekhi shivering in their hovels? The businessmen or artisans who only seek to protect their own interests? The corrupt priests? Armies only know how to battle other armies. They are powerless to defend against an enemy who fights in the shadows, whose face is never revealed. They can’t even imagine that the meek merchant they pass every day calls himself a priest of Apep when Ra’s chariot sets in the sky. And if The Abomination chooses to have me and Bakht killed, so be it. We welcome dying as martyrs for Apep. There will be no dark place in Lower Kem that does not harbor one of our warriors. If they are killed, their children will take their place, even their wives and daughters. They will never conquer us for we will never surrender. Never!”
“Harsh methods are needed, Khnum, I agree. But we need to guard against overzealous passion. If we aren’t careful we’ll alienate those who we will eventually govern. At some point our own people must welcome us as heroes, not murderers.”
“Yes, our methods are harsh and if you are to be our link to the future, then you must know exactly how serious we are and that we will stop at nothing to achieve our goal of a separate Lower Kem. That is why we felt it best to have you witness this event.”
Together we stood, side by side, looking out into the living darkness of Wadj-wer as her waves broke rhythmically over our feet. Finally, I turned toward Khnum.
“Was it Bakht’s idea to have me witness this event?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yes, for he is the Master Priest of Apep. Only he could have allowed you to attend.”
Suddenly my heart cleared. I nodded my head in understanding and a smile crossed my face. For only then did I comprehend what the message was in Bakht’s invitation. Only then did I understand that in my attendance lay my entire future and that of the Land of the Papyrus.
SCROLL TEN
Meryt-Neith
“It is not the worst possible news, Mery,” Amka said, pacing before me. “But these rebellions in the Delta have to stop or your rule will erode from within. They seem to be increasing in severity. Even the governors of the neighboring nomes are concerned. I suggest we send in Panahasi…”
“Ah, the barbarian to the rescue,” I said, sarcastically.
“Yes, Panahasi the Barbarian,” Amka responded matter-of-factly. “He is our oldest, most experienced general and he knows the Delta better than anyone in the army. He will deal with these rebellions quickly.”
“And what of his critics who say he is too heavy handed? That he will slaughter one hundred innocents to get at one enemy?” I asked.
“Yes, he is aggressive in his pursuit, I agree, but his exploits have been wildly exaggerated. But we will keep him on a short leash. Narmer’s genius in building our white-walled city adjoining the Delta becomes clearer with each passing generation. I will personally visit Panahasi regularly as your Vizier to be certain he is carrying out your orders against the rebels and not just pummeling the locals into submission.”
“Make it so,” I responded, not wanting to take more time when so many other pressing issues faced me. Amka immediately sat down at a table in the corner of the meeting room to write a parchment with orders for Panahasi. He applied both our seals and sent it off with a messenger priest.
“I must visit with Herneith this morning,” I said to Amka. “She so enjoys when Zenty and I bring her morning meal. I noticed that she has been weaker these past few days. What is your opinion of her health?”
Amka immediately put down his scribe’s pen and faced me, yet he did not i
mmediately speak. “Mery, I offer no opinion when it comes to the disease that eats from within. She is very ill and seems to decline every ten-day. Ti-Ameny and I discuss her treatment every day, but there is no medicine for the mut that has invaded her body.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing that we yet know of. The Horus priests are always alert for new treatments as we travel to other lands or establish temples near our borders.” He tapped his pen on the parchment a few times before continuing.
“I know how close you two are, Mery. Herneith has been like your mother and a good role model for you. And she and Zenty have a very special relationship. But you must prepare yourself for her passing to the next life. She has been a good woman in all her roles and a good Queen, too. She will have a life of abundance, free of pain and full of joy when she reunites with Djer.”
“Your words are true, as usual, Amka. Yet I have no idea how you are able to act on them with so little emotion. Herneith’s passing will grip my heart with grief.” Before Amka could respond a tiny voice yelled into the room.
“Mother, are you done yet? I want to go visit with Mama Herneith!” I cast my glance toward Zenty and smiled. Abana had dressed him in his favorite kilt of fine white linen with gold thread borders. His hair hung in a single child braid to his right shoulder and was tied with a gold ribbon. Around his neck he wore a single gold chain with a Horus amulet that protected him and pronounced him future King.
I opened my arms and he ran across the room to me as fast as his five-year old feet allowed. I hugged him tightly, but as he did more frequently nowadays, he soon wanted to be released.
“And what about me?” Amka whined. “Am I unwashed? Am I undeserving of a hug?” With that Zenty threw himself off my lap and flung himself at Amka, who pretended to be knocked to the ground. Together, the two of them rolled back and forth in a tight embrace, Amka complaining loudly while Zenty giggled uncontrollably.
“You are growing up too fast, my dear boy,” Amka said, looking stern. “You are becoming entirely too strong. The Horus priests must figure out a way to keep you little.” With that, Zenty put out his arms and flexed his biceps. “Let me feel that,” Amka said, reaching out to feel the muscles. “Great Horus, those are rocks, not muscles! What have you done? You… you… ” Amka slapped his forehead in amazement.
“No, I just eat good stuff,” Zenty said, still laughing. “And I get exercise making Abana chase me around. And when I grow up I will be a great warrior and hunt lions and hippos like Herihor.”
And so they bantered until finally I stood and took Zenty to visit his grandmother. It was a melancholy visit, for Herneith had taken a turn for the worse and looked pale and lifeless, as if Thoth had already come to claim her ka.
“Why does Ma-Ma just lay there like that?” Zenty asked, pressing his head to my arm.
“She is ill, sweetie. Very ill.”
“She looks sad. But how come she does not just wake up and talk to us like she usually does? That would make her feel better.”
I kneeled down and put Zenty on my lap. He did not take his eyes off his beloved grandmother. “Yes, it surely would, Zenty. But she does not have the strength any more to do that.”
“Then I will do it for her!” he stated and got up, took his grandmothers hand and shook it. “Wake up, Ma-Ma, wake up!” he commanded. But Herneith was too far gone to awaken. She slept on, not recognizing either of us.
“We should go now,” Zenty suggested, turning from his grandmother. He wrapped his hands around my neck and together we rose and left the room. Back in his own room, Zenty crawled into my lap and allowed me to hug and snuggle him. He asked me to tell him stories about Herneith raising me, but he did not smile as he usually did. As I spoke I had the feeling that he still visited with his grandmother in his dreams and he soon fell asleep in my arms, something he had not done in almost a year. It was a bittersweet moment, indeed.
Late that night I visited Herneith alone, for I had a deep sense of foreboding. For the first part of my visit, Ti-Ameny came to check on Herneith, her face grim, her healing hands now useless. She avoided looking me in the eyes as she did what I thought was busy work, straightening Herneith’s sheets and making her comfortable. After she left, I knelt next to Herneith, holding her hand and caressing it with my lips and cheek. I felt a movement in the bed and looked up to see Herneith staring at me. Her expression was serene, perhaps even joyful. I sat on the bed and, smiling, leaned down to hear her, for her lips moved.
“I go now, sweet Mery,” she whispered in my ear and even then I strained to make out her words. “Djer beckons me from the Beyond. It is so, so beautiful there.” Her eyes shone.
“Remember always these words, my dear daughter. There is much evil in the world. Yet love and kindness always endure. Be strong, be fair, and always, always leave room in your heart for love.”
Herneith said those words and closed her eyes for the last time. She slept peacefully then and by morning her ka had left her body. If it were not for Zenty, I would have collapsed into a deep place of mourning, so much did I love my aunt, the only mother I knew. Zenty insisted on seeing his grandmother one last time. I told him she was dead, but that did not convince my headstrong son.
Amka, may his name be blessed, explained to Zenty that what he witnessed was the body without the ka present, which made perfect sense to Zenty. He touched the cool body only once, as if to convince himself of the difference. Strangely, he did not cry. He and Amka talked about the journey her ka was now making and what glories awaited his grandmother in the Afterworld. Zenty nodded quietly and seemed to take great consolation from Amka’s explanations and turned to leave, holding tight to Amka’s hand. Then, he spun around, ran to Herneith’s body, dressed in her funerary shroud, her hands crossed upon her chest and hugged her one last time. He walked back to Amka, carrying himself with a regal bearing that later Amka commented upon, took his hand again and quietly left the room.
For me it was not so easy to let go of Herneith. I sat with her body for a long time, thinking of all that she had meant to me. She was a mother, but very different than was Abana, for Herneith did not bother with my care as far as the daily chores of life were concerned. Herneith was always there to teach me the values that the Royal family held most dear. She advised me on protocol. She read to me and discussed matters with me so as to teach me how to be a good companion. But above all she always instilled feelings of independence in me, whether for the good or bad.
Yet even my relationship with my sweet aunt was not perfect, for my ba was of a more reflective type. I would often sit alone on the portico of my room and just watch the other girls in the Royal court as they walked through town with their mothers, or played games with their fathers. I would wonder about those relationships. Did they feel comfortable, like a well-used blanket? Did the children look forward to dinner around a table with their parents? Was there a secret, something, anything, that families shared, some magical connection that somehow made each member more whole? All I knew growing up was that I very often felt something was missing inside my ka.
With my heart still full of grief, barely a month later I heard the first murmurings of yet another challenge we faced within the Royal Court. It had not been a good day to begin with. The first order of business had been a meeting of the Council of Governors, now chaired by Amka, who had asked me to attend. The governors reported that the drought ravaged our people, both poor and wealthy alike. Crops wilted, the farmers had no goods to trade for staples, which meant the merchants were becoming destitute, leading to the artisans starving. The end result for the Royal Court was that tax revenues were not coming in and so the entire situation was a terrible cycle of despair, misery, illness and death.
Amka had sent emissaries as far away as Kush and Nubia to purchase grains and other foodstuffs, but the people of those lands, too, were suffering from Mother Nile’s anger. Amka did report some success in obtaining grains from Babylon, since the gods of their twin rivers
had been good to them and they were happy to receive the gold from our rapidly depleting treasury. Within a month we were to have modest grain deliveries to Inabu-hedj, to be parceled out to every nome.
In a perverse way, fish stores had actually increased due to the reduction in Mother Nile’s depth. The governor of the southernmost nome reported that herds of antelope and water buffalo had migrated from Nubia well into his nome in search of water and the local population was hunting them with great success. Amka arranged for a contingent of soldiers to travel to the borderlands to hunt the herds and to ship the salted and dried carcasses to the northern nomes to provide quality foods for our people. And so we all worked together to overcome these most difficult times. All, except for the nomes of the Delta.
No matter what the issue, the governors of these nomes protested that they lacked enough of this, or had too many problems themselves to help. This had caused the governors of Upper Kem to run short on patience with their brethren in the north and a rift soon developed which made it increasingly difficult for the Council to conduct its business.
So it was no surprise to Amka when one of the Governors in the Delta asked him when he thought Shepsit would be named Queen Mother. It was asked so casually Amka knew at once that he had been put up to it. He sidestepped the question, but raised it with me at our first meeting after the Council of Governors left.
“It has not even been one month since Herneith’s death!” I protested. “What will that witch want next?”
“As if you do not already know the answer to that one,” Amka replied, looking up from the notes of the Council meeting he committed to parchment before dictating them to his trusted scribes. “The governor’s question was just a polite way of raising the issue. In another month the issue will become insistent and be cloaked in court intrigue. Shepsit is like a dog on a bone. The question remains what to do about it, before it gets to that point.”
The Dagger of Isis (The First Dynasty Book 2) Page 17
