As soon as we arrived in Gebtiu I met with Thotmi, who apologized profusely for the mob incident, which he blamed on agitators from the Delta. I urged Thotmi to call a meeting in two days with all the businessmen, landowners, and artisans. I also required that he gather up several of the most vocal rekhi protestors and have them attend the meeting, too.
I believe the meeting served to calm the people. I urged my ministers to listen to the complaints and in the end all who attended understood both the need for calm and the consequences of extreme actions. Thotmi was helpful in calming the situation. As a gesture of compassion and to support Thotmi’s difficult rule, I had him award the widows and the mother of the child who died at the hands of my soldiers lifelong pensions. This went a long way toward easing tensions.
But the strains resurfaced the very next day. Some rekhi accused their neighbors who attended the meeting of having betrayed their cause. People threw rocks at officials from rooftops and some even threw clay pots of wet hippopotamus dung. All the while, Amka and his fellow priests steadfastly pursued their inquiries.
On the sixth day after our arrival in Gebtiu, Amka sent me a parchment from the local temple where he and his fellow priests met throughout the day. The temple was more than an hour’s walk from our campground, which Herihor had thoughtfully placed in the shade of the desert mountains.
Master, please excuse the necessity of this letter. I would deliver its news in person, but I feel it is best for me to stay here and complete our work, as you shall see.
We have concluded our assessment of the situation in Gebtiu regarding their food needs during this difficult period. We would like to announce it to the entire community as a show of the King’s power and justice. We have also uncovered what we believe is official corruption. With your permission, we will schedule this meeting for mid-morning tomorrow. I urgently request that you attend.
Faithfully,
Amka’s official stamp was affixed to the scroll. I thought it odd that Amka would require my attendance, but I knew not to question his judgment.
The next day, I rode my carry chair to the temple, where Amka had assembled the meeting. To my surprise, every person in the village must have been waiting outside. They gave me a courteous but cool reception. In the temple, chairs had been commandeered from throughout the village to accommodate the wealthy guests and political leaders.
Amka stood up and the buzzing in the room quieted. Holding tight to his staff, Amka paced before me, addressing the crowd. With each sentence he uttered, a voice in the back whispered its essence to the crowds outside.
“People of Gebtiu, you better than anyone know the sacrifices Kem has had to endure during the drought. King Meryt-Neith, may her name be blessed forever, in her infinite wisdom as Horus’ representative and as her son’s Regent, wishes to help.” Amka waited for his words to be relayed to the crowd outside. As he did, we heard someone distinctly call out: “Dung!”
I was mortified, yet I maintained my erect posture, my crook and flail resting in my arms. I saw Herihor nod to one of his captains, who immediately left the hall.
“As you all know, we have been here in Gebtiu to determine how much grain you require to carry you through this terrible drought. And yet…” Here Amka began again to pace before me, his head down as if lost in thought.
“And yet, the more we studied the problem, the more curious it became.”
“To the point, dear priest!” Someone shouted from the rear.
“We need food, not words!” someone else shouted.
Amka held up his hands. “We are a nation of laws and traditions,” he admonished his audience. “We can stand here and shout at one another or you can listen to how the King applies the laws fairly and equally without regard to rank or privilege. Which shall it be?” The audience immediately quieted as Amka’s glare surveyed the crowd.
“Now, as we determined how much grain Gebtiu needs today, we could not reconcile this with how much grain you have received in the past year. For if our records are correct, your granaries should still be one-third full. Yet, by the records of our capable administrator, Thotmi, they are empty. In fact, his records appear to be accurate, for we have checked carefully and the granaries are indeed bare.” Thotmi was seated in the front dignitary section. His girth was substantial and his abdomen poured over his waistband. He sat perched on the edge of his seat looking as if he might fall off.
Amka now motioned to one of the priests from Nekhen. The elderly priest stepped forward with an assistant who carried with him several scrolls. Amka instructed the assistant to unroll the first one. It was filled with columns of numbers.
“Here then are Thotmi’s disbursements of grains to the people of Gebtiu,” Amka said loudly for all to hear. “Very well done, Thotmi. Very precise figures as well as dates.” Thotmi turned around as his fellow dignitaries nodded their approval.
“Further, if you take our most capable Governor’s figures and reconcile them with the status of the granaries today, they match perfectly!” People around the room murmured their approval and some even called out to congratulate Thotmi, who smiled and held up his arms in acknowledgement.
“So, when will we receive more grain?” one of the dignitaries shouted out.
Amka smiled down at the crowd. “Soon, my fellow Kemians, very soon. And much of it, too!” To that there were expressions of gratitude from around the room. “In fact,” Amka continued, “at the King’s insistence we have already sent a messenger to Inabu-hedj instructing the Treasurer to make the purchases immediately.” Now the room erupted in applause and cheers that extended to the crowd outside. When the crowd quieted, Amka held up his staff.
“But, the odd thing is that while your Governor’s records match his disbursements, two other matters are troubling.” Amka now paced before the dignitaries. “Ammon, please explain.”
The elderly priest stepped forward and unfurled another scroll. “These are the grain shipments that we sent to Gebtiu since the second year of drought. Each shipment was noted as it left Inabu-hedj. You see, here are the amounts and here are the dates each was sent.” Ammon pointed to columns meticulously entered by the Royal scribes. At this point I glanced at Thotmi and noted him perspiring profusely. He mopped his brow with a scarf he kept tucked in his kilt.
“The figures we have do not match the amounts received in Gebtiu,” Ammon said, his voice so soft I had to strain to hear. “Every shipment from Inabu-hedj,” he said, motioning to his assistant to come forward with the scrolls from Thotmi’s office, “results in only a quarter or half of the shipment being received here.”
“Curious, is it not Thotmi?” Amka asked. The room was hushed, for they now suspected where Amka was headed. All eyes were riveted on Amka or Thotmi.
“The soldiers, umm… the soldiers who… who delivered it… how shall I say this?… perhaps they helped themselves to some of it… for their families, no doubt,” Thotmi offered. He tried to mask his nervousness by smiling and waving his hands, but his smile was crooked and his hands shook.
“Of course. That is what we thought must have happened, Thotmi, because we would never doubt your integrity. Yet, and here is where things become even stranger, Herihor here has questioned his men and they have sworn an oath that they did not steal even one deben from the shipments. Besides, the army escorts and the scribes who manage the orders check each other to prevent such occurrences.”
“So, you know nothing of these discrepancies, Thotmi?” Amka asked.
“No, I… I know nothing about them. I had my supervisor record them as they arrived. Perhaps he’s the one who has…”
“Well, fortunately he is here today, Thotmi. Unfortunately, we have questioned him thoroughly,” Amka said, turning to Herihor, who nodded to one of his officers. Two soldiers brought in the supervisor.
“He lies!” Thotmi suddenly stood and shouted, his finger pointed at the poor man. “The man is an ignorant idiot. I took pity on him and hired him to do a job that was above
his abilities. He… he’s the one who stole the grain!” Thotmi turned in desperation to his civil servants seated directly behind him as if to seek their support.
“Perhaps it is you who is the idiot,” Amka countered, “for this ignorant civil servant’s wife has never trusted you and made him keep careful records of what you commanded him to do. And yet there is even more, Thotmi, something so vile that I hesitate to mention this before the King you were sworn to serve, for your acts have dishonored Horus himself.”
“Stop this!” I commanded, standing and turning to Amka. “State the charges and your evidence and be done with this insult to my rule and my son’s. I will not wait another minute for justice to be done!” I was enraged by Thotmi’s deception. Every face turned to witness my reaction.
Amka took a deep breath and turned toward me. He reached into the band of his kilt and withdrew a small parchment. “King Meryt-Neith, favored of Horus, at your command and in your name the Horus priests have investigated the matter of grain shipments to Gebtiu. We have examined the records of all transactions and have interviewed witnesses. We accuse Thotmi, Governor of Herui Nome, of dishonoring his title, of theft of Royal stores, of corruption, and of affliction and even murder by allowing his own people to starve. We also have absolute proof that Thotmi sold the grain to middlemen who, in turn, sold it to rebel factions in the Delta.”
The audience was shocked. Men talked with their neighbors and it slowly dawned on them to what extent Thotmi himself was responsible for their considerable misery.
“Traitor!” several called out.
“How could you betray us?”
Thotmi’s kilt was soaked through and his body shook. “I… it was not as if I had a choice. I swear, I… I was forced to do this…” he said, wheezing.
And so it was that on that day I ordered my first execution. Yet I did not shrink from that duty, for what Thotmi did was against everything Kem stood for. I had trusted him and he lied to his King and to Horus himself. His criminal actions were responsible for the death and illness of many of his brothers and sisters. He violated ma’at by his traitorous deeds. By the end of that day Thotmi’s wife was a widow and his three children orphans. All those involved in this corruption plot were immediately put to death and their parts scattered in the desert for the jackals, with no hope for an Afterlife. I left Gebtiu sadder, but much, much wiser.
The people, no matter what their rank, believed that justice had prevailed and that as King I had done all in my power to restore ma’at. The rekhi bowed low to the ground as our entourage made its way to our ships to sail back to Nekhen. News of these events spread far and wide in Kem and did much to ease discontent, at least for a while.
Oddly, the events in Gebtiu did little to ease my discontent, for my decisions that day had created many orphans. This knowledge plagued me greatly. Did I, more than anyone else, not know the effect of growing up an orphan? As a mere child, did I not feel the melancholy of my ka after a day spent witnessing the affections of mothers and fathers and their children in the Royal Court? At those times I remember the sadness in my ba lasting for days.
“Ever it is this way,” Amka cautioned me many times during the early years of my rule. “A ruler must decide matters of life and death. Even deciding not to decide may result in the deaths of many.” I remember once Amka pacing back and forth, tapping his staff as he did so.
“Yet that is the only way to maintain ma’at,” he said, turning on his heels to face me. “You do see that, do you not?”
Yes, I saw that, how could I not? Yet the terrible sadness of that inescapable truth weighed heavily on me. For what was ma’at, anyway? In the case of Thotmi we had preserved ma’at by bringing the divine justice of the King to the people of the Two Lands. But what of ma’at for Thotmi’s wife and little children? If Thotmi’s wife did not remarry, an unlikely prospect at best, they were condemned to a life of begging in the stinking alleyways. Yes, the children still had their mother, but little comfort would that be when their bellies ached from lack of food. I felt the burden of guilt descend upon me like a shroud.
After Thotmi’s trial, I was resolute to at least maintain ma’at consistently and fairly and so I asked Amka to instruct me further on the legal scrolls. As the days passed I understood more of what each case brought before me represented in the larger scheme of ma’at. Amka and I would often argue over fine points in our laws and I found him smiling as he engaged in these debates. In some cases, he even agreed with my position and we issued decrees that corrected contradictions that had arisen.
Periodically we would receive a message from Nekau’s delegation advising us of their progress. Nekau had contacted several Ta-Sety tribes and received assurances from them of their peaceful intentions. He spent a few days in his ancestral village and was told to continue deeper into Ta-Sety to find the villages of the tribes that had invaded Kem. Since that message we had not heard from the delegation.
As for Herihor, it was difficult for us to get together now that I was back in Nekhen, while he trained his troops in the desert. But he freed himself from his work every so often and late at night was able to sneak into my room so that we could enjoy a few hours of pleasure in each other’s company. Therefore I was surprised one night to be awakened by Amka. He escorted me to a small meeting room. There Herihor waited for us.
“We have received word of Nekau,” Herihor started, “and it’s not good. He’s been taken prisoner by a Ta-Sety tribe.”
“His party was besieged,” Amka continued. “One of Herihor’s soldiers was wounded in the skirmish and managed to get away and deliver a message to a Horus temple, and it was relayed here.”
“How many were killed? Is Nekau alive?” I asked, my heart beating rapidly.
“We have no way to know for sure on either question, my Master,” Herihor said, the expression on his face radiating his concern. “Nekau was alive after the attack, that we know. My soldier said the Ta-Sety’s were in awe of his size and recognized from his leopard skins that he was a powerful shaman. Whether that will spare his life I don’t know.”
“Was it the same tribe that invaded us?” I asked.
“Nor do we know the answer to that,” Amka answered. “From what I know of the Ta-Setys, the invasion was the result of several tribes banding together, for their numbers were too large for any one Ta-Sety tribe.
“What I do not like,” Amka continued as he paced before me, “is the timing of this. I believe that word got out of Nekau’s mission and this is an attempt to undermine us. He was apparently successful making peace with several tribes and that must have frightened Khnum and his conspirators. They obviously do not want their alliances with the Ta-Setys endangered.”
“They count on them for the southern tactic of their strategy,” Herihor ventured. “But for them to attack our peace delegation worries me. It may mean they are close to a major action.”
“Exactly,” Amka said, tapping his staff on the floor for emphasis.
“Explain how you know this,” I said.
“Gold is a powerful motivator, Meryt,” Amka began. “If the Ta-Setys had ample time, they would let Nekau strike a rewarding peace deal with them and then go back to Khnum with a sweeter offer to undo it. However, that takes time, a great deal of time.”
“So what prompts their rush to action?” I asked.
Amka hesitated, a sure sign he was thinking of a tactful way to express himself. “I could say it is the continuing drought,” he said deliberately, “and that is surely part of it. Or the fact that many are set against your rule. But those are issues best left to time and to pressure steadily applied by our adversaries, for they certainly have plans, do they not? No, I think the real reason for the sudden rush is you and Herihor.”
I stole a glance at Herihor, but at that moment could not read his face in the candlelight. “What? You think this old man does not know love when he sees it, that he is too old to know of late night trysts in desert tents and palace bedrooms? Oh, Horu
s, how blind is love!” Amka said, laughing.
For my part I must admit to feeling relieved that Amka knew, although I should have suspected that he would find out sooner rather than later.
“I’m sorry I didn’t confide in you sooner,” I offered. “It… it took us both by surprise.”
“The only surprise is that it took you two so long to consummate your love,” Amka said, laughing again, and I took that as his way of approving. “However, this does create a complication… lots of complications.”
“Go on,” I said.
“I am not the only one to know of your affair. Nubiti also knows. She has always had an eye for Herihor… and Wadjet, too, for that matter, may his name be blessed. This is more than mere sisterly rivalry.”
What Amka said hurt me to the core. “But I never harbored ill will against her,” I protested.
“Yes, but it was not she who was betrothed to Wadjet or who was allowed to follow her heart and plead for the affection of Herihor. No, Meryt, the priests… and the priestesses… know that there is nothing more terrifying in the Two Lands than a woman whose love is denied. You ask what the rush is? I will tell you. It is Nubiti’s rage over you and Herihor.”
I was too stunned to even speak and the silence hung heavy over the room. “I have received vague reports of Nubiti’s dealings with Khnum’s shaman, Bakht,” Amka continued. “He is a powerful shaman, Meryt, and dark as Ra is light. They are mixing an evil brew, my dear, they and Shepsit and their kin, and I feel their pincers closing in on us from all sides. We must act, and quickly and decisively.”
I nodded in agreement, although my heart felt pained. “What do you two suggest?”
“The army is ready, Meryt,” Herihor said, dropping the pretense of title in Amka’s presence, but still using my male name. “They are trained to a high degree. I have also been meaning to bring a plan to you for recruiting more men to the army. With times so bad, people are desperate for work of any kind. If the treasury can support it, I would recommend we do so. The army is spread thin with our need to quell rebellions in the north and battle the Ta-Setys in the south and also the Ta-Tjehenus to our west.”
The Dagger of Isis (The First Dynasty Book 2) Page 26
