I scanned the room, my senses fine tuned, the hairs on my body feeling prickly. My gaze immediately fell on the man who must be Ihy, and a profound disquiet overcame me. The shaman was perhaps a head taller than was I, but also younger and somewhat thinner. He wore a lion’s skin across his chest, pinned to his loincloth in the front and back with fish bones. His long, black hair hung behind him unadorned, tied simply with a piece of twine. His face was dark and pockmarked, the wide swath of his black eyebrows accentuating his brooding look.
“Please, stay seated, King Scorpion.” Ihy strode across the room. “There is no need to introduce the great Anhotek,” He stopped a pace in front of me, crossed his arms, then opened them wide and bowed deeply, holding his hands at knee level in a gesture of respect. “Your reputation is great throughout the land, Anhotek, advisor to the nobles, shaman to King Scorpion himself. I am honored to meet you.”
Ihy’s eyes pierced to my core. I felt skewered from within by a dagger. Yet, outwardly he revealed no sign of malice. I prayed that the chill that ran through me would not betray my fears. This man was clearly announcing his powers to someone who would understand them. I nodded my head slightly.
“I am honored to meet a shaman from the House of Dep,” I replied. I noticed the slightest twitch of a smirk in the corner of Ihy’s lips.
“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way,” Scorpion continued, oblivious to the nuances in our exchange, “would you like to lift a cup with us?”
I initially thought to refuse. “Yes, a quick drink, then. There is still much to do today.”
“Forget your other duties, Anhotek. There is business here to discuss.” Scorpion thumped the beer urn down on the table, as if to emphasize his command. “As for the rest of you” - he waved his hand- “leave our guest alone with me and Anhotek. Send in Kagemni.”
Scorpion stood, dressed in a dirty, coarse linen loincloth. His muscled torso was riddled with battle scars, some healed in raised welts, nearly every one personally treated by me. One wound, near his lower abdomen, was recent and still oozed. Scorpion winced in pain and I rushed toward him.
“No!” Scorpion held up his hand as if to keep me at a distance. “It’s just a small stab wound. Since we were away, Ihy treated it.” He fell onto a large cushioned bench with a groan. I did my best to hide my discontent at the thought of another healer administering to Scorpion.
“Anhotek, Ihy has made a proposal to us… a way out of a long-standing dilemma that we have faced.” Scorpion gulped his beer and placed his cup on the heavy wooden table next to him. “Explain, Ihy.”
“Certainly.” Ihy strode to the table, in a smooth motion that nearly made him appear to have floated. His grace triggered a pang of envy in me.
“After lengthy discussions with my King… and with yours,” Ihy said, “I have proposed… I should say my King has proposed a marriage between the Houses of Upper and Lower Kem.” He waited for my reaction. I looked at Scorpion. Silence hung heavy in the air.
“It makes good sense to me,” Scorpion said, breaking the silence.
“Good!” I replied as nonchalantly as I could muster. “Then by the will of the gods, do it!” I turned lazily and walked toward the entranceway, bending to pick up my collecting bag and staff. I saw Ihy turn to look at Scorpion, who was transfixed by my movements.
“As I said, I have many things of importance to yet do today. I beg your leave, King Scorpion.”
Scorpion stood and held his chair to steady himself. “Wait, Anhotek! We are asking your opinion in this matter.”
“Did you say ‘we,’ Scorpion?” I gave my former student a disapproving look.
“I… I meant that… what I mean is that…”
“Because, as everyone in Upper Kem knows, I am the advisor only to Scorpion, Ruler of the Land of the Lotus.” Scorpion struggled to decipher my veiled message.
“Perhaps I should go,” Ihy said. “I am fatigued from the journey and there are things that you and your shaman must discuss… privately. King Scorpion?”
“Yes… yes,” Scorpion muttered, pushing his white alabaster drinking cup aside. “We… we will meet in the morning. There is always much to do when I have been away.”
At that very moment, Kagemni entered, his lips distorted into a shape of embarrassment and containment that I had seen on his face only rarely. “Scorpion, I… the woman… Mersyankh asks your permission to enter.”
Before Scorpion could even respond, Mersyankh strode through the archway, smiling, with three of her attendants. The effect on Scorpion was immediate. He tried to reach for his tunic, but it was too late. Mersyankh ignored the gesture and walked to his side.
I was taken off guard. Mersyankh was strikingly beautiful. Her facial features were so fine, they appeared to have been chiseled from stone by an artisan. The kohl around her eyes was deftly applied and the combination of her jewels and her fine linen gown made her look resplendent. But, it was the way she carried herself, head held high, her posture erect that commanded our attention.
Scorpion, obviously embarrassed by his haggard appearance, looked desperately at me. “Allow me to introduce myself, fair noblewoman. I am Anhotek, Chief Scribe and shaman of King Scorpion’s Royal Court.” I nodded my head in her direction. She eyed me from toe to head.
“Ah, yes. I believe I have heard of you,” she said dismissively, her eyes cold, before turning her back to me and facing toward Scorpion. I noticed Ihy wince. For a few moments, the only sounds in the room were of Mersyankh whispering earnestly to Scorpion. Kagemni and I exchanged glances.
“And, how is the Prince?” Scorpion suddenly asked.
“He is fine now,” I lied. “The birth was long and difficult. But, the boy is strong, born of yours and the Queen’s stock,” I said pointedly. “He is quite handsome. He will endure.”
Mersyankh screwed up her brow. “Endure? That is an odd word.”
“I suppose it is. The child of such a difficult birth experiences a conflict between wanting to stay with its dead mother and its natural desire to survive on its own. The child’s ka is strong.”
“And the Seven Hathors?” Scorpion asked warily.
I recalled the ritual over which I had presided, exactly one week after the Prince’s birth, although now it seemed like another lifetime. “Hathor’s visit was… it was the most profound visit the priests at the Temple of Horus have ever witnessed,” I answered. “And their memories go back hundreds of years.
“The Chief Priest blessed the child under Horus’ watchful eyes and we could immediately feel Hathor’s presence. It was wondrous, Scorpion. Her seven voices echoed in harmony. They told of the Prince’s ascendancy to the throne, of how he was destined to honor you, to provision your tomb with gifts so bounteous you would lack for nothing in the afterlife. And they told of how he would vanquish the warlords of… ummm… of Ta-Tjehenu and Ta-Sety.” I thought it best to avoid any reference to the common warlords of Lower Kem. “He will complete the work you have begun.”
“What you describe is indeed a powerful vision,” Ihy said, turning first to Scorpion, then to Mersyankh. “Was that all they revealed?” Ihy had either read my innermost thoughts, a disturbing notion or, even worse, he had already been successful in bribing a Horus priest.
My breath returned to me slowly. “No… no, that was not all,” I said, looking deep into Scorpion’s eyes. “They also said that his ka was destined to struggle throughout his life… to… to do battle with demons here.” The veins in Scorpion’s forearms pulsed from gripping the arms of the chair so hard.
“But in the end, the Seven Hathors saw that he would emerge victorious over his enemies and that his reign would be a great one.”
Scorpion was lost in thought for several moments. “Bring him to me,” he said, looking up at Mersyankh, who nodded her head. “I wish to see him with my own eyes… to hold the future King.”
“He naps now,” I protested. But Scorpion was not to be denied, and so I left to gather the baby.
“He
mamiya!” I shouted as soon as I entered the Prince’s small quarters. “Quickly, we must ready the Prince for the King.”
Panic was written all over Hemamiya’s face. “But, he might… “
“I know, I know,” I said, dismissing her half-formed objection, “but Scorpion is determined.” I fumbled through my bag of medicinals and retrieved a small jar.
“Bring me some red wine. I’ll mix a potion and feed it to the little one. He will sleep well enough.”
I mixed several strands of birthwort root with wine, honey and ripe dates. Hemamiya fed the Prince quickly.
“We’re lucky he’s hungry,” Hemamiya remarked. “Shall I take him to the wet nurse before we go?”
“Yes, do it. And swath him tightly. We don’t want…”
“I understand,” Hemamiya said before leaving.
When we entered the King’s quarters with the Prince’s entourage, Scorpion was sitting at his table with Mersyankh. Ihy stood behind them. Next to Scorpion, Kagemni stood, his body tense. He glanced toward the table, where a fresh pitcher of beer stood, so that I knew which of Scorpion’s demons I would need to battle.
“My guests, in the capable hands of Hemamiya is the future wearer of the White Crown of Upper Kem,” Scorpion announced. In his drunkenness he slurred his words.
Scorpion sauntered unsteadily toward Hemamiya and the wet nurse and leaned close to them. Hemamiya winced from smelling the mixture of cheap beer and strong sweat that emanated from Scorpion’s body. “Missed me that much, dear Hemamiya?” Scorpion whispered, not a hand’s width from her face. She dropped her eyes and held out the baby toward him.
“Is this a baby or a mummified dog, woman?” Scorpion scolded, taking the child from her. “You have wrapped him so tightly, he will suffocate!”
Hemamiya shot a look at me. “What do you say, Anhotek?” Scorpion asked, turning toward me. I gave a little laugh.
“My King, your reputation as a warrior is well deserved. Your skills as a nurse maid, on the other hand, leave much to be desired.” At that Mersyankh tittered, but Scorpion glared at me.
“He’s right, Scorpion,” Kagemni yelled across the room, smiling. “You’d change a bloody battle dressing better than a baby’s swaddling cloth!”
As the snickering subsided, Scorpion stole a look at the baby, sleeping peacefully in his arms. “By the gods, he does have a pleasing appearance,” he declared, dipping his arm down to show the baby’s face to Mersyankh, Ihy and Kagemni.
Kagemni moved forward to get a better view of the sleeping baby. “He is handsome looking,” he said. “Have you decided on a name, Scorpion?”
“No, I have not decided it,” he said hesitantly.
“And what do you say, wise counsel?” Kagemni asked me.
I related to them the story of the Prince’s birth under the dappled wings of Horus. “The omen would suggest that his name be either S’ab, for the dappled underside of Horus’ wings or else Meni, for the enduring one. The priests at the Temple of Horus in Nekhen were unaware of the exact day of the Prince’s birth, yet they had recorded the same dappled skies in their scrolls that evening as a strong omen. Horus’ hawk presence portends a strong future.”
Scorpion considered my reasoning silently, looking from me to the baby, then to Mersyankh. “What name appeals to you?” he asked Mersyankh.
She looked from Scorpion to the floor, an ingratiating look that seemed entirely inconsistent with her ba. “I… I have no experience with names for Upper Kem,” she offered sincerely. “Neither sits comfortably with me.” As Scorpion turned away from her toward Kagemni, she lifted her eyes just enough to coldly gaze at me.
“And you, my trusted friend?”
“The name Meni appeals to me,” Kagemni carefully responded. “It shows strength and power and… and destiny.”
“I will consider your suggestions, then,” Scorpion said with authority. “I will announce my decision soon.” He walked with the baby toward the table.
“Does he ever wake up?” he asked, flopping into the chair. “He sleeps so peacefully.” He began to unwrap the colorful swaddling clothes, much to Hemamiya’s dismay. As he did so she started toward the table, but my raised hand stopped her.
When the baby was exposed, Scorpion called out in alarm. “Come here, Anhotek. Look how thin he is. Do you not agree, Mersyankh?”
Mersyankh leaned over and peeked at the baby. “He does look underfed, yes,” she responded, “as if he does not thrive.”
I walked behind the King, feeling uneasy. “All babies lose weight after birth. His birth was difficult, so he must catch up even more.”
“Is the wet nurse well suited for him? Does he suckle soundly?”
“She has nursed more than a dozen healthy children of wealthy families.” With that I motioned for the wet nurse to come closer. She trembled, but at my hand gesture she removed her double-wrapped linen halter and revealed her swollen breasts. Both nipples leaked milk.
“Look, her breasts are engorged beyond measure,” I pointed out. “The baby suckles to his heart’s content.”
Apparently satisfied, Scorpion called to Hemamiya. “Come here, Hemamiya. Wrap him again, but not so tightly this time.” As he handed the infant to Hemamiya, he looked down to see him moving. “Look! He is waking,” Scorpion said excitedly. “The Prince opens his eyes to see his father.” Deftly, Hemamiya wrapped the cloth around the baby, then swept him into her arms.
“Not so quick, woman!” Scorpion shouted. “Give him here one last time.” Hemamiya held out the wriggling baby to Scorpion.
“Do you wish to hold him?” Scorpion asked Mersyankh. She shot a panicked glance at Ihy.
“I… he is not my son. I am not sure…” she objected. But Scorpion, may the gods hold his memory dear, naively held out the Prince to her. “But, as his future step-mother I suppose I should become familiar with him.”
Once the Prince was settled in her arm, Scorpion raised a finger toward his son’s cheek. The Prince’s eyes became vacant. Scorpion’s finger stopped in mid gesture, his face mirroring his confusion, but he continued to stare at the baby, silent, as if transfixed by a terrible spell, a spell that was reflected in the faces of Mersyankh and Ihy.
Scorpion looked from the Prince to me pleadingly, before he returned his morbid gaze to his heir. I watched the tragedy unfold before my eyes. Mersyankh’s arm began to jerk, then shake. The pair looked down again, as if in a nightmare, to see the baby’s skin take on a sickening, pale cast. The Prince shook violently against his wrappings, throwing his head back, spittle forming on his lips. He wet his swaddling cloth. Stunned, Mersyankh cried out, nearly throwing the baby from her bejeweled arms.
“By the gods! What… what is happening to him? What…”
But before she could utter another word, I removed the baby from her grasp and Kagemni rushed to the King’s side, easing him to a chair. I handed the baby to Hemamiya and rummaged through my medical box to administer more birthwort to the Prince.
“In Ra’s name, Anhotek, what is happening?” Scorpion shouted. Kagemni stood with his hand on the King’s shoulder. Both were as pale as spirits from the netherworld. Ihy moved to Mersyankh’s side to steady her. I heard Scorpion’s shout, but medicating the Prince was my more immediate task. “Anhotek, answer me!”
I spun on my heels, but immediately thought better of embarrassing a drunken Scorpion in front of his intended wife. Instead, I only glared at him, but with the same penetrating look I had controlled him with since I became his tutor when he was but twelve years old. With the baby finally asleep, I turned back toward the King, who was sitting stiffly in the deathly silent room.
“With your intended wife here to bear witness, Scorpion, I tell you the Prince is normal in all ways, save that he does have shakes. Yet…”
Scorpion’s head was cocked to the side, trying to comprehend through his alcohol-clouded mind. “What… what are these shakes?” He looked as if he were about to be sick.
“They are not c
ommon, to be sure.” Although I had hoped for more ideal circumstances to explain the Prince’s illness to Scorpion, perhaps the presence of his officers might be of some good.
“In the eastern lands they call it the sacred illness, since it seems to favor those who are of Royal birth. The Horus priests believe that the shakes are a gift from the gods, as if the gods themselves are sending the person a sacred message. They last only a minute or two, then the person is quiet. They sometimes have a vision while they are shaking, or even before they start shaking, which the priests feel is an omen, more powerful even than dreams. People with the sacred illness are highly revered, Scorpion.”
Scorpion looked toward Mersyankh and Ihy then hung his head in his hands. Hemamiya and a few of Neith-hotpu’s servants waited by the entrance, anxious to take their leave. The wet nurse shook in fear.
After a moment, Scorpion stood up, breathing in deeply to control the pain in his side. His muscles rippled from the tension in his body. “Leave, all of you!” he shouted. Hemamiya and the Prince’s entourage nearly tripped over themselves running out of the King’s chambers.
“You, too, my dear,” Scorpion added. Ihy quickly grabbed Mersyankh’s arm, then bowed to both Scorpion and me and escorted her out the door.
“Anhotek, you and Kagemni stay.” With the room now empty save for the three of us, Scorpion slumped in his chair. “I am… ” he started to say, his face suddenly composed. His command of his faculties, even with the wine still coursing through his body, frightened me. “I feel as if Horus has sucked the life spirit out of me.”
“Scorpion, I implore… ” I began.
“No, Anhotek, you will not use your fine words against me!” he raged. “I have heard the tale of the Prince’s birth, of how your… your magic snatched him back from his journey to the afterlife. Perhaps you should not have meddled in the affairs of the gods.” The poisons oozed from Scorpion’s wounded soul. “Perhaps he was meant to journey with his mother!”
Scorpion perched at the edge of the table. “From now on you will be Counsel to the Prince. Instruct him in the ways of the world, in the ways of the Royal Court. Tend to his spiritual development and to his medical needs. Use Hemamiya and… and the rest of the Queen’s servants to aide you.”
The Dagger of Isis (The First Dynasty Book 2) Page 42
