“And what would that be?” I asked, gently touching my ears, for they still throbbed in pain.
“There are times when you gather information, when you plan and strategize and ask others for their counsel. But finally you must listen to your inner voice, when you must shut out all distraction and retreat to that quiet place inside and make your decision.” I nodded with the wisdom of Bakht’s interpretation.
And so, Bakht made me eat some food and drink a special potion that he said would fortify me for the most hazardous journey I would ever take. Once I was done, he mixed the powder into a tea and I drank it.
This time the effect was immediate. I do not even recall putting down the cup. In an instant my head was hit with a pain that felt like the crushing blow from a mace head. I gasped and fell backward, screaming.
I knew instantly that this journey was to be far different. I felt fear grip me like the jaws of a crocodile and not let go. I looked about me to see what there was to fear, but I could not move. I was in a confined space, a place with no air and no light. It stank of the mud of the Delta marshes. It was musty and rank and worms and maggots crawled throughout and I lay in their midst and I felt them crawling over my body. I tossed and turned to get them off me, but my hands would not function. I screamed and screamed, begging for help, but instead into my open mouth a snake flicked its foul tongue.
And then the rumbling again and the ground beneath me shook and a demon whispered into my ear and said not to fear for there was magic here beyond my comprehension and that with it I could overcome all obstacles. And then it entered me. At first I shrank back in horror, but the reverberations infused my ka and I surrendered to its power. Now the darkness dissipated into a gray mist and I could make out the form of Apep above me, thrusting into me, filling me. I tore at his flesh, urging him on, begging for him to enter me harder and harder.
All thoughts left my heart and the sole sensation I had was confined to my private parts and all I could feel was Apep’s monstrous organ filling me. I came to the heights of pleasure again and again and again, so that I knew nothing else, so that there existed nothing else. I screamed in ecstasy, but I could not hear myself.
How long this lasted I do not know, but it seemed to go on and on. I floated between vague sensations that something powerful was happening to me and the intense reality of my pleasure until finally I felt Apep tense and become still harder. And then he shot his seed and I felt every contraction, every spurt. He came and came until his seed filled me and only then did I know; only then did I understand.
At first his seed stayed within my womb. But soon the demons it contained spread throughout my ka, shimmering like gods in the night sky. And I knew now that the magic they contained had become part of my ka. The power of Apep was mine for all eternity and none could ever take that from me.
For a long time after I floated, light as a feather, as the power within me grew and multiplied. I rested in the black abyss and the rumbling would come and go and each time I felt ever calmer, stronger, wiser. And then, far above me I saw a faint light and a calling and I went toward the light. But my arms still would not move, so I slithered through the soil, turning and twisting until, with a final push, I was birthed from the ground and into Ra’s blinding light.
Up and up I soared until below me I saw Mother Nile in all her majestic glory, a long, unbroken ribbon of green winding through the Land of the Lotus, a land of unending light brown sand and barren rocks in shades of blue, green and red. Finally, her magnificence split into five different rivers and she became the lush, green Delta, as different from Upper Kem as Babylon was from Ta-Sety. That was the unmistakable message from the gods, laid before me through Apep’s magic. Mother Nile herself changed her ba as she transformed herself to create the Black Lands of the Papyrus. The truth was finally revealed to me. We were Two Lands, two different people, now and ever to be.
And there, where the Two Lands met, stood two armies poised for battle. I knew they awaited something. I looked about for the answer and I thought that the silence had something to do with it, but I could not be sure. Frustrated, I closed my ears and meditated. Only then could I feel the offspring of Apep’s seed inside me. The gods had shown me that the answer lay within.
I opened my eyes and below me the Delta warriors began to disappear, sucked down into the marshy soil. Herihor’s troops marched forward, but wherever they turned they could not find their opponents. Then, suddenly, our warriors began sprouting from the ground, spit up by Apep. They emerged behind the Upper Kemian soldiers, around them and mixed in with them. In Upper Kem the sandy soil itself began to shift and crumble. I turned southward. Angry mobs poured into the alleys to protest Mery’s rule. The very walls of Inabu-hedj shook and the Temple of Horus began to topple. I smiled, for the gods had finally shown me Truth. And then I felt a searing pain in my head and my journey abruptly ended.
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SCROLL FOURTEEN
Meryt-Neith
“Why haven’t you told him?” Ti-Ameny asked. “He has a right to know. He was the baby’s father.”
“It was my fault. I was not careful enough, as you taught me to be. And since he was not to blame, I saw no need to involve him or make him feel badly. Besides, there was no other alternative, since we could not marry anyway.” I was beginning to feel irritated at Ti-Ameny’s persistence in this matter, for what was done was done.
“Alright, I will not argue with your choice in not carrying this baby’s ka, even though it may have serious implications for ma’at, but…
“Serious implications?” I asked, not entirely sure of what Ti-Ameny meant. She stared hard at me.
“Did you not think what might happen if, Horus forbid, Zenty does not live to adulthood? Why do you look at me like that? It happens. And what about the baby’s ka, which now wanders in the Nun?” At that I suddenly felt a horrible chill run through my body.
“Of course I considered those things, Ti! Do you not realize I agonized over these matters? We preserved my entire flow after I the herbs took effect. They will be buried and prayers offered so the baby’s ka will travel to the Afterlife, where he will grow. I will yet raise him, you will see!”
Ti could not help but notice how distraught I was. “I am sorry, Mery. I… it’s just that I’m angry that you did not ask me to help you. I am your personal healer. Amka and me, not that… that…”
“That what, Ti? His name is Nekau, not the insulting terms you have used for him since he has arrived.”
The veins in Ti’s neck and temples throbbed. “He is monstrous, that black mut, and he is strange. His methods of healing are primitive… very different than ours.”
“Different, perhaps, but I have seen his magic work. He knew the instant he saw me that I was with child and he immediately divined that Herihor was the father.”
“That is not magic, Mery, that is…”
“Neither you nor Amka divined it, and you two live with me and have known me since birth.” Ti-Ameny stood still, trying to respond, but the words did not come. After a moment, she breathed in and seemed to calm herself.
“How did he do it? Did it hurt?” she finally asked.
“He gave me an herb for three days and he said some prayers and then I had my monthly flow and some cramps. That is all.”
“I’m sure he prayed to his heathen gods,” Ti-Ameny said, disgusted.
“Ti, he is a Horus priest… a respected Horus priest and leader of his colony on Abu Island. The prayers sounded just like the ones that Tepemkau or Amka would use.”
“Pregnancy is the province of Isis, not Horus!” she shouted at me. I recoiled at her anger.
“Ti, I understand that you are angry with me, but do not address me in that fashion. Do I make myself clear?”
Tears welled in her eyes. “In any case, it is done,” I added. We stood for a moment in silence.
“I do feel I owe you an explanation,” I ventured. “I was…it was… insensitive of me to not include you in my dec
ision, and in fact Nekau asked me if I had a personal healer I would prefer. But at that time I was terribly distracted by my predicament. I had just seen his magic power and I decided it would be good for our relations with his people if I gave him the honor of treating me.” I could see Ti-Ameny softening.
“I will confide in you, Ti, something I have told no one else. Our plan is to use Nekau as an intermediary to negotiate with the Ta-Setys. Amka and Tepemkau believe it is our best option, short of war. In any event, he will be gone from the Royal Court.”
Whether or not that helped Ti-Ameny’s feelings I could not tell at that time, but she appeared to accept my explanation and we hugged before she left. The very next day, Amka called a meeting with Nekau so that we could settle the matter of his negotiating with the Ta-Sety tribes that still plagued us. Amka had spent hours each day talking with Nekau and his delegation, as well as private hours exchanging information with him about medicines and treatments for illnesses. I had not seen Amka so happy as when they worked together with mortar and pestle, mixing potions, talking about plants and animals and vigorously discussing the fine points of the illnesses they faced. Amka would dictate to a scribe a description of the animal or plant, along with the potion, and the scribe would quickly write down the passage.
Recruiting Nekau into our cause was a foregone conclusion by time we met. He was eager to serve in any way he could and seemed genuinely honored to be asked. Our meeting was brief and as he stood to bow, Zenty ran into the room, Abana close behind.
Abana looked terrible. She hobbled rather than walked and her face looked haggard and drawn. I made a note to talk to her about retiring, but I would need to structure it with Zenty in such a way that Zenty would see her replacement as a step toward manhood. Perhaps Semni or another of Amka’s trusted students would take over day-to-day responsibility.
The day, like nearly all days during Shomu, was uncomfortably hot and somewhat humid. As soon as Zenty came to my side, he coughed, a mild nagging cough. I hugged him and he leaned his head into my breast.
“How long has Zenty had that cough?” Amka asked.
“Maybe two days,” I responded, looking to Abana, who nodded.
“We should give him an herbal,” Amka offered. He always worried about the illnesses of Shomu, for they spread quickly and the still air always seemed to worsen them. Many of the rekhi became gravely ill during Shomu and died.
Then Amka, to my surprise for I had never before seen him do this, turned respectfully to Nekau and inquired as to how Nekau treated coughs.
“I use an herb mixture from Ta-Sety. Coughs are more severe in the jungle area where Meruka and my ancestors are from. The herbs to treat coughs and colds are more powerful. We base them on two roots that grow in the jungle.”
“Can we try it with Zenty?” Amka asked, shocking me.
“Of course. With your permission,” Nekau said, bowing to me. Having just had the argument I did with Ti-Ameny, I hesitated, wanting with all my heart to insist that Ti treat Zenty. But with Amka making the offer to Nekau I felt it would be a sign of disrespect, or at the very least it might reflect a lack of confidence in Amka’s judgment and Nekau’s medical skills. I deferred.
Nekau motioned to his assistant, who brought his case to him, a case such as I had never before seen. It was made of a strange wood called ebony and it had streaks of black in it as dark as Nekau’s skin. In a few moments, Nekau and his assistant prepared a thick syrupy mixture, which he administered to Zenty. By now Zenty had gotten used to Nekau’s immense size and, as long as he was at my side, stared at him at every opportunity. Still it was a shock to him when Nekau’s hand approached him, for his hand was as large as Zenty’s head. And so, with as simple an act as my not acting, and thereby allowing Nekau to minister to Zenty, I created a problem that would all too soon come to haunt me.
In discussions over the next two ten-days, Amka, Tepemkau, Herihor and Amka’s Council of Advisors prepared Nekau for his role. Toward the end of Shomu, Nekau and his fellow priests departed for Ta-Sety, with a small contingent of army soldiers for protection. They also carried with them many gifts to pass out as signs of respect.
With Nekau gone, the Royal Court returned to normal, or as normally as it could function while we stayed in ancient Nekhen. Periodically my cousins and other nobles would request permission to return to Inabu-hedj, which I usually granted, for life in Nekhen with only four thousand inhabitants was far less attractive compared with the White-Walled city which was at least six times as populated. There were always parties to attend, festivals and celebrations. Inabu-hedj, being at an intersection of various trade routes, was also better able to weather the drought and poor harvests that plagued the smaller towns in the south.
In less than a ten-day, at our regularly scheduled Council meeting, Amka brought a disturbing piece of news to our attention. In Gebtiu, a village a day’s journey from Nekhen, a group of citizens had angrily attacked two of my tax collectors, beaten them, and driven them from town.
“Has this happened before?” I asked, shaken by the news.
“Never in the south,” Amka replied. “It happens every so often in the Delta whether during drought or times of plenty.” The ministers and governors nodded their heads.
“In our defense,” said Thotmi, the Governor of the nome that included Gebtiu, “the situation among the rekhi is most difficult. They are hungry. They feel as if they have nothing left to tax. Yet… I beg your forgiveness, master, but the tax collectors still come. Even the businessmen are angry.”
“They may be angry, Thotmi,” Tepemkau said, “but taxes are the obligation of every citizen to the King. It is part of ma’at. The King’s treasury pays for…”
“I know what the taxes pay for, Tepemkau, but… it’s just that the people do not feel they are getting much in return,” Thotmi said, turning to me. “We have no grain. My family was recently threatened in the marketplace and had to flee.”
Amka stood up. “Wait a moment, Thotmi. You have been sent regular allotments of grain, just like the other nomes. I just approved a shipment to you perhaps six ten-days ago. It was not much, but it was something.”
Thotmi looked puzzled. “Amka, I swear we haven’t received any grain recently, nothing. Our granaries are bare. No one bakes bread. Even the supervisor of the King’s estate complains to me regularly.” Thotmi looked from person to person in the room, as if they might provide him with answers.
Amka tapped his staff on the floor, thinking. “We will get to the bottom of this, I promise.”
“But in the meantime,” I said, addressing the Council, “we must act quickly to stop this rebellion. We cannot have the people think they control the tax process.”
“I agree,” Amka responded. “There is dissatisfaction throughout the Two Lands. We do not want these rebellions to spread. We will discuss it, Master, after the Council meeting.”
With the meeting soon over, Amka asked Herihor and Tepemkau to remain. “This is not good,” Amka began. “It smacks of the Delta power structure fomenting unease beyond the usual nomes. The pattern is too familiar. I did not wish to mention this in Council, but we are already hearing reports of agitators in Nubt, Tjeni and Inerty.”
“It’s unlikely that the southern rekhi would act in open revolt,” Herihor added.
“In any case, it will fall upon your troops to restore order and allow the tax collectors to do their duty,” Amka said. We discussed the need for haste and Herihor promised to send one of his best captains with fifty soldiers to accompany the tax collectors within the next few days.
In five more days, I was in the midst of my morning bath when I heard a commotion outside. My handmaiden left to see what it was about and she returned with a towel. “Master, Amka begs an audience in the private meeting room. He said it was urgent.”
I quickly made ready and hurried to the meeting room. Amka was in a heated discussion with Herihor, who sat in a chair, his head hanging low. Amka spoke in a loud voice and drove
his staff onto the floor for emphasis. When Herihor spotted me he rose and Amka immediately turned around to face me.
“Sit, Meryt. I fear we have bad news.”
“Well, there is a first time for everything.” Amka ignored my sarcasm.
“Herihor, you might as well start. You know the details.”
“My men sailed to Gebtiu. From their very arrival, people were hostile. Mostly it was just insults heaped upon the collectors. There was some shoving. But on the third day, an unruly mob waited near the temple. They demanded that my captain hear their grievances. He’s a soldier, Meryt, not a politician. He did not handle it well. They refused his command to disperse, someone began throwing rocks and he ordered his men to charge.”
My back stiffened. “How many?” I asked coldly. Herihor hesitated.
“Three were killed, including a child. Several more were injured.”
I turned away, distraught. Had it really come to this, my own people in open rebellion against my rule? Had I really ordered my army to kill my own people? My heart pained thinking of how seriously ma’at was endangered, that all the tedious prayers and careful work of the priests might be in vain and chaos would engulf us. My heart raced.
“Make ready, Amka. We go to Gebtiu today!” Amka appeared shocked but said nothing.
“It isn’t safe, Meryt,” Herihor protested. But the pain in my heart would not abide his words. I turned to him as I stood.
“Then make it safe!” I said sternly and left.
Herihor dispatched a division of soldiers in advance of our leaving. During the entire day that we sailed down Mother Nile, Amka and I discussed how we might handle the crisis we faced. I agreed that the best strategy was for Amka to conduct a thorough assessment of the grain and food needs of Gebtiu and remedy it quickly. He sent a message to Tepemkau requesting several specially trained priest scribes known to Amka who would help him with his accounting.
The Dagger of Isis (The First Dynasty Book 2) Page 25
