The Dagger of Isis (The First Dynasty Book 2)

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The Dagger of Isis (The First Dynasty Book 2) Page 27

by Lester Picker


  Amka paced. “Herihor’s plan has merit. Putting people to work will have a ripple effect. Craftsmen will need to make their weapons and leather workers will make their armor and sandals and so on. I will speak to the Minister of the Treasury and see if he feels we can take this on. It may not cost us as much as it would appear, since many would work for bread, cheese and beer alone. Eventually Mother Nile will flow full again and our treasury will be replenished.

  “But for the present, I say we dispatch Herihor’s army southward immediately, for we need a show of force against the Ta-Setys or they will not fear our might or our resolve.”

  “And we must rescue Nekau, too,” I added. “How soon can you be ready to leave?” I asked of Herihor.

  “I have kept the army at the ready. Three days at most.”

  “Good. Amka, make it so. I must make ready,” I said as I stood to leave.

  “Make ready?” Herihor asked, turning around sharply to face me.

  “Yes. Amka will stay here to take care of the affairs of Kem and supervise Zenty’s care. I will take only Ti-Ameny and a few attendants with me.” Herihor’s jaw dropped.

  “Surely you… are joking,” he said tentatively.

  “Surely I do not,” I answered testily.

  “Mery, this… this is nonsense. We go into battle. Do you understand what horrors war involves? We march double time. We’ll be on food rations and water restriction. Soldiers act crudely. This is no place for a woman.”

  “Herihor, I speak now as your King, not as your lover,” I began self-consciously, for I had never spoken openly about our relationship. “As Chosen of Horus I feel I must accompany you in battle, although I promise I will never interfere in your military business.” My breath now came in gasps, so much did I hate having to talk to Herihor like that.

  “She makes a good point,” Amka said, tapping his staff lightly. “Think of it, Herihor. With your military skills and your knowledge of the history in the scrolls you will no doubt easily subdue the Ta-Setys, as you did before, of that I feel certain. With Meryt-Neith returning triumphant, it will help her to govern more effectively. There are few things more effective than war to distract people from their miseries at home. And through your actions, she will have proven her Horus energy.” At once I could see Amka’s reasoning, but also his appeal to Herihor’s male vanity. I smiled inside for I still had much to learn from my old mentor.

  And much to learn from my son, too, for if there is anything at all that would help a women understand her limitations, it is raising a boy to be a man. If ever a living thing in this world differed from a woman, it is the ba of a boy. It is only through the determined efforts of their mothers and caregivers that boys ever mature into men who wash, brush their teeth or sleep in anything other than their filthy clothes atop a dung heap! There, I have said it and recorded it on the holy scrolls, for I swear the following happened.

  Zenty had just come home from a walk with Semni, the purpose of which was to learn from the animals and plants surrounding us. Amka had instructed Semni to teach Zenty how the gods created life in the most unexpected places. And so the two of them walked along Mother Nile and explored… dung. Dung!

  When Zenty burst into the palace and told me this I was less than amused, but Zenty was obviously excited by what he found. He kept thrusting in my face a filthy dung beetle whose life the gods ordained involved rolling little pieces of dung into balls and scooting them around the desert floor for no apparent reason, or at least for no reason that I dared consider.

  Yet even with six hairy legs designed to roll dung into balls, that disgusting beetle was far cleaner than was Zenty, who stank, having spent the day up to his knees in Mother Nile’s mud, breaking open crocodile and hippopotamus dung cakes. Oh, Isis, did he smell!

  So with beetle in hand, he kept coming toward me, only wanting to sit on my lap and show me this creature that Semni had explained was perfectly made by the gods for this job and no other. And I held out my hands and backed away until we had gone around in a complete circle.

  Thankfully, by the time Abana showed up, he was sitting in the corner of the room, completely absorbed in torturing the poor animal, which I had actually begun to pity.

  “Oh, by the gods, look at you!” Abana wailed and she mercifully persuaded him to bathe. He agreed, but only if he could take his now five-legged beetle with him.

  “And why is that so funny?” Amka asked me later that day when I had told him what happened.

  “I did not say it was funny funny. I said… or I meant to say that it is funny… more like odd, how boys are… how… how they like dirt or… or torturing animals and the like.” Amka just stood and stared at me.

  “And you do not think it is… odd, or crude, at the very least?” I asked, incredulous, when he remained silent.

  “And how, may I ask, do you think the Horus priests learned all about the animals and plants that inhabit our lands and so have made valuable medicines?” Amka finally asked. “Do you think they just asked each creature and waited for it to answer? Hmm?” I could see that I had angered my old vizier. He stood silently again, I suppose hoping that I would absorb his point.

  “Do you think your beloved Herihor plans his battle strategy to avoid marching through elephant or hippo dung?” he continued. In fact, I was now beginning to think that it was I who had indeed stepped into such a pile.

  “Mery, I will tell you this and I pray you listen well. Women raise girls to be women and none could argue that it should be any other way. But when women raise boys to be men, our entire land will be in mortal danger. Ma’at will be destroyed more surely than if the gods themselves were to wreak vengeance upon us. We each have our place in ma’at. If men were to become more like women, they would cease to hold their women’s respect or affection.”

  I thought long and hard about Amka’s comments, painful as it was to contemplate, for I still too easily exhibited the weakness of only considering my narrow perspective. Yet, there was no denying Amka’s wisdom and that in this matter he was surely correct. I felt blessed to have such a one in my life, a vizier who always spoke truth to me as he saw it and who considered not himself, but the Two Lands and all our gods before he spoke.

  And so in three days, and with newfound humility, I sailed south from Nekhen with my army, some six thousand strong in countless ships. Amka had the head arms-maker in the King’s workshops create a set of armor for me, including a fearsome-looking helmet that I wore it on the day we left. People lined the path from the city to the wharves and bowed low to the ground as I passed, sitting on my carry-chair, one hand holding my sword the other the flail. Only one did not bow to me that day and that was Ti-Ameny, who thought my accompanying this campaign outrageous. Although I suspected that Ti-Ameny might be resistant, I wanted her along for her undisputed healing skills if they were needed to assist the Horus priest shamans. I also knew that whores accompanied the troops wherever they went to serve their male desires and I felt that having a woman healer and her assistants along would be a worthy use of my resources.

  Each day of the journey I became more impressed with the conduct of the army and the ordeals the soldiers had to endure, for Herihor drove them hard and long and even then they rested only for the evening meal before he had his captains drill the men in the finer points of using the sword, mace, dagger and shield in battle. I saluted the men who fought bravely and even suggested to Herihor that he make a contest of it every ten-day, so that I could reward the men who bravely fought in my name. I was pleased that this proved to be a popular diversion and the soldiers drank and laughed heartily at the mock battles. Even Herihor fought demonstration rounds with his captains and the men roared whenever an opponent managed to ground him. But I could also see that they reserved the highest respect for the leader who sailed, marched and fought with them side-by-side, not demanding of them anything he would not do himself.

  For many days we sailed and rowed upstream. Groups of villagers came to the shores to wi
tness the spectacle of hundreds of ships carrying soldiers and supplies. Children, mostly naked and covered in mud, jumped up and down, waving at the soldiers. As word passed that the King accompanied the army, people lined the shores and bowed low as we sailed past. Finally, after rowing and portaging past the cataracts, and picking up five of Nekau’s fellow priests from Abu Island, we reached the border of Kush and began the desert march to the land of the Ta-Setys. The desert sands were hot as burning coals and the dust kicked up by the marching soldiers was suffocating. Thanks be to Horus, the desert soon gave way to savannah, to the cheers of the soldiers. Their joy did not last long, however, for even on the first night the insects began their merciless attacks on man and beast.

  Thankfully, Nekau’s priests were prepared for the deluge and in large pots they simmered an awful smelling mixture of herbs that we rubbed on our skin. It repelled the bugs, but tainted everything we touched and ate with a foul smell.

  In three days march, an advance party of our soldiers and one of Nekau’s priests came back to camp with news. They met up with a tribe that had befriended Nekau’s delegation. The friendly Ta-Setys knew that Nekau had been captured, but would not help due to their fear of the warring tribes further south. At the request of the Abu Island priest, the tribe sent word to Nekau’s ancestral village of his plight and of our army’s advance.

  Herihor now faced a dilemma, whether to send a rescue party in the direction of Nekau’s captors, or instead find a suitable open plain upon which we could fight the hostile Ta-Setys. For two days I listened to Herihor and his officers debate the merits of each tactic.

  Two of Nekau’s priests had made several trips during their lives to their ancestral village and were intimately acquainted with the terrain we found ourselves in. They suggested a southwesterly route that would detour us only slightly, but had several advantages for a marching army because, due to the drought, it would take us through a dry river valley that would be easier on the feet of man and donkey. Once at the end of the valley, which the priests estimated would take us three or four days to traverse, we could send a smaller force to rescue Nekau while the main army continued southward.

  Moving an army is no small feat, I learned. There are the soldiers, of course, but there are also their weapons and replacement weapons. Every ten soldiers required a valet to service those weapons and provide replacements during battle. But I was most surprised by what it took to feed and water six thousand warriors.

  Behind the army marched another army, of men and beasts of burden. Everything had to be transported, food, water, cooking utensils, medical supplies. Then there were the cooks and the medical priests and all their supplies. And, of course, there were the caravans of whores.

  Managing this horde was even more difficult than managing a city, for a city counts to its credit an equal number of men and women. Herihor was correct. Men, in great numbers and without the calming influence of women, are quite disgusting. They whip out their privates wherever it suits them and unleash a stinking stream of pee that would splash on other men to great peels of laughter. They would fight on the slightest provocation and Herihor’s officers were hard pressed to keep order. And even the best of friends talked to one another by trading insults and profanities I had never before imagined. Yet I kept Amka’s wise words in my heart and learned to appreciate their courage and sacrifice for their King and land.

  So long as we stayed on or near Mother Nile, food and transportation were easily managed. But I learned that once an army marches across land, especially desert, every detail must be meticulously considered. The men were already on strict food rations. They were allowed one piece of cheese and a slice of rekhi bread for their morning meal. They would not eat again until evening camp, where they would have a hot meal twice every ten-days, but usually only another wedge of cheese and their own small loaf of bread with a dollop of honey. Once camp was made the cooks began preparing loaves of bread for the next day.

  But it was water that I learned proved the most difficult of all for an army. All my life I had lived within the abundance of Mother Nile and never considered that if you do not know the location of natural water sources, then water must either be carried or stored at places where it can be easily accessed. Perhaps nothing else Herihor did convinced me more of our need for far flung army outposts than the need for water, for one of the most important reasons for outposts is to always have fresh water available for soldiers in case of war. This fact was brought home to me when we were but a day’s march from the dry valley we were to cross.

  Herihor had sent an expedition of soldiers ahead of us with enough gold to enlist the help of a local, peaceful tribe. For two days they hauled water from a nearby spring to the valley’s mouth. They had filled three hundred clay urns with water and left one of the Abu Island priests, one who spoke the local languages, and a small contingent of soldiers to guard it. However, when we arrived at the site, Herihor was shocked to find his soldiers dead and the priest seriously wounded. Every urn had been smashed. The priest’s injury was curious, in that the attackers had brutally cut off his right hand, but left him to live.

  Once the priest’s injury had been treated, I attended Herihor’s interview with him. I did not at first realize the seriousness of our predicament, until I saw how earnest Herihor was. As soon as the priest relayed the exact location of the spring, Herihor himself accompanied his soldiers on a run across the grassland to the spring. As I later learned he already expected, the spring was fouled by the priest’s putrid hand that had been thrown in. For good measure the attackers had defecated in the watering hole.

  Herihor and his officers faced a major decision, whether to advance or stay put until another water source was found. I listened to the debate amongst them but, as promised, I kept away from Herihor’s military role. After all his officers had weighed in, Herihor thought for but a moment.

  “We push on,” he said, looking each officer in the eye, “and we do it now.”

  “Now, as in tonight?” one of the junior officers asked.

  “Yes, tonight. It will be cooler and the men’s need for water will be less. Each of you will inform your men of our predicament. Tell them we’re on strict water rations and so no bread, only cheese and dried fish. We will travel by night until mid-morning, when we will rest during the hottest part of the day. Let them know we expect it to take us three days to get through the valley, at which point we are told there will be ample water sources.”

  “What about wild animals?” the same officer inquired.

  “The Abu Island priests are experts,” Herihor assured him. “Still, we’ll march with arms at the ready. Have guards protect the supply caravans, and to discourage stragglers, for that’s where lions and hyenas are most apt to attack.”

  “And the enemy?” Akori, captain of the King’s Guard, asked.

  “Be vigilant, but from what I know this was a raiding party. I don’t believe they would attack us directly. And if the Abu Island priests are correct, they won’t attack at night, for they fear strong magic in the darkness.”

  And so, that very day, with Ra’s disk descending rapidly, we entered the valley. Herihor had his men arranged four abreast. A scouting party moved ahead of the formation, watching for vipers, scorpions and other demons of the night. Knowing the dangers they faced, the soldiers were unusually silent.

  As we began Ra painted the sky the most brilliant colors of red I had ever seen. The dry grasses that waved all around us were cast in a shimmering gold and as we trampled a path the smells they released were intoxicating. In the distance we could see herds of antelope, much larger than the tiny dik-diks we hunted in Kem. At first the hills that defined the margin of the river valley were far apart, but as night fell and we continued our march, they drew nearer and taller. The soldiers said nothing, but I noticed from the rear that they turned their heads more frequently and held their weapons tightly.

  By mid morning the men were exhausted. Herihor had them pitch camp amidst
a long, winding rocky outcropping and I could imagine water coursing through it during the Ta-Sety rainy season that Amka had described to me. The soldiers took advantage of the respite and other than those who were on watch, they slept soundly, finding whatever meager shade they could. I noted that Herihor did not insist that they practice their skills that day.

  Late that afternoon, we took off and Ra again treated us to a magnificent display, which the Horus priests told me was a good omen. By now water was scarce, but I heard no reports of the soldiers complaining, for the rumor was that Herihor refused to take even a sip of water until the captains reported to him that every man had his share for the day. Like the others, I insisted that I adhere to the ration, despite Ti-Ameny’s objection that it was inadvisable for a woman’s health, let alone the King’s.

  We marched through a much rockier terrain now and the ranks of four abreast was abandoned which, in turn, slowed our progress. Marching around the boulders and rocks took more energy and without water the men appeared to suffer for it. But we also made progress and on the second morning, under Ra’s heat, we rested knowing that we were almost through the valley.

  Before we headed out on the third afternoon, Herihor summoned his scouts and asked them to find out with certainty how much longer the march would take. Stripped down, and carrying double the ration of water, the men took off at a brisk pace.

  On this afternoon the soldiers struggled. The night was dark and our pace was cut in half. The faces of the men were vacant, their lips chapped and crusty with salt. Some took their ration of water immediately to give themselves strength, and then sneered when their companions took their share later in the night. Instead of marching sharply, the men staggered.

 

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