by Jerry Dubs
Footfalls sounded from the lean-to.
…ten more steps.
The lapwings took flight.
…six more steps.
Mahu uttered a growling howl.
…three more steps.
I began to run.
I reached the wooden door and leaned my weight against it. When it failed to move, I looked down and saw that there was a simple wooden latch on it.
The sound of Mahu’s footsteps ceased.
Lowering my hand to lift the latch, I heard a grunt.
Turning, I saw Mahu. His right hand held the narrow end of a curved tusk of ivory overhead. With his other hand, he grabbed at my throat. As I squirmed away, the heavy end of the tusk swooshed toward me.
I Find Kebu, I lose Kebu
I was drowning again.
I tried to flail my arms to fight to the surface of the river, but they would not move.
When I kicked my feet, I found that they were bound to each other.
Opening my eyes, I saw a dark shadow standing over me. A bucket dangled from the shadow’s arm.
“Wake up scribe,” Mahu said, kicking my stomach and driving the air from my chest.
When I tried to protest, I found that my mouth was covered with a foul rag.
As I returned to consciousness, I mentally examined my body. My ankles were tied together. My wrists were tied together behind my back. My head throbbed. I was gagged.
Twisting, I raised my shoulders from the ground and got to my knees.
Seeing the bundles of ivory and other stolen goods, I realized that I was inside the lean-to beside Mahu’s home. Staring through the gaps between the wide-spaced logs that made up the wall, I saw that Re had departed the Two Lands.
The police chief walked behind me and I felt pressure on my ankles and then freedom. Then he leaned over me and, grabbing my arm, he pulled me to my feet.
“Come on, we’re going for a walk,” he said.
***
The thick leaves of the forest concealed the sky as Mahu marched me away from Kerma. We walked for an hour, perhaps two, perhaps more. I could not see the sky and the passage of time was measured only by my feet as they followed the root-filled path.
I knew that I was being led to my death, but, deprived of my voice, I had no weapon.
My mind — throbbing from the blow that Mahu must have delivered to knock me to the ground — kept losing its balance. My thoughts tumbled from the dead boy to the stacks of ivory to the mention of Medjays to the whispered warnings from the merchants in the market. I heard Queen Merti’s voice and I remembered the hollow sound of Pentu’s mysterious words.
I had thought that I was following Kebu, but instead I had been tracking Wepwawet.
***
The dark forest gave way to a clearing where a large, communal campfire fought the smothering darkness.
Several Medjay warriors were squatting around the fire. They stood when Mahu and I emerged into the light.
“I need to talk to Kyky,” Mahu said.
The command in his voice told me that he was accustomed to seeing the warriors.
One of the warriors ran to a large hut made of stripped tree branches, its roof an angled collection of palm fronds. He emerged a few moments later followed by the largest man I had ever seen.
As dark as a moonless night, the warrior stood more than a head taller than the other warriors, who were all a head taller than I. His chest was heavily muscled, his arms thick, his legs as round as my waist. I had never seen a giant before and had doubted that they existed.
No longer!
While I watched him in fearful, curious amazement, more warriors emerged from the hut. The last to come into the clearing was Kebu.
My hands were still bound behind me, but I had worked the gag loose. I had kept it clutched between my teeth, hiding the fact that my tongue — my only weapon — had been freed.
His eyes on Mahu, the giant said, “Why are you here?”
“Cleaning up your mess,” Mahu said.
Kyky grunted a laugh.
“He found the boy that you killed,” Mahu said, tilting his head toward me.
Kyky shrugged.
“He’s from the royal court, Kyky. If he returns to Waset and tells them what he saw, they’ll send an army here. I don’t want that.”
“Kill him,” Kyky said.
“Pharaoh Thutmose — long life! — will send…,” I said, unleashing my weapon of words. Before I could say more, Mahu struck me, knocking me to my knees. “Pharaoh will send others,” I said, turning away from Mahu’s approaching kick. The blow landed and, unable to use my bound hands, I fell face first into the dirt.
“Why did you bring him here?” Kyky asked, squatting to examine me, as if I were a strange insect.
“He is looking for one of your men … a man named Kebu,” Mahu said. “I need to find out what he knows and what this Kebu knows.”
I saw the warriors behind Kyky shuffle closer together, shielding Kebu from the policeman’s sight.
“I need to ask him about Lord Imhotep,” I said, rolling onto my side and throwing the words quickly as Mahu drew back his leg to kick me again.
Kyky laughed. “Imhotep? There is no one named Imhotep here,” he said, then turned to Mahu. “There you have your answer. Now you can kill him.”
Mahu’s voice rose in anger. “Don’t you understand? We must know why he was sent here. If Thutmose has sent this scribe because he suspects that we are stealing from the royal treasury, he’ll just send another if this one doesn’t return. And the next one will be accompanied by soldiers.”
“We will kill them,” Kyky said, as his men grunted approval.
“Kill them all!” a voice cried from the crowd that had gathered around the men.
“You can’t kill them all,” Mahu shouted in frustration. “Pharaoh’s army is a river. It will just keep coming and coming.”
“Stop,” a voice said. “No one needs to kill anyone,” Kebu said, pushing his way to the front of the crowd.
As Kyky turned to glare at Kebu, Mahu said, “Who is this?”
“I am Kebu.”
“Kebu,” I said, gathering my voice. “I need to speak with you.”
As Kebu moved to kneel beside me, Kyky reached out a huge hand and stopped him.
“Then speak,” Kyky said.
“In private,” I said, pushing myself to my knees and then to my feet. “His words are for my ears only.”
Kyky laughed.
“Let me speak with him,” Kebu said.
Kyky’s smiled disappeared and he turned to Kebu. “You flee pharaoh. You bring police to my village. And now you tell me what to do! Are you a wanted man?” he asked.
Then he turned to me. “Is there a reward for him?”
As I shook my head, I saw something pass through the giant’s eyes. His huge hand went to the knife tucked into his belt and he began to turn toward Kebu.
Shouting, “Run, Kebu, run!” I charged at the giant and rammed my head and shoulders into his stomach.
I felt that I had run into a huge, unmoving tree. Then the weight of a boulder — one of the giant’s clenched fists, no doubt — struck my shoulders. I fell to the ground. Lying on my side, the light fading from my eyes, I saw Kebu snatch a bow and a quiver of arrows and run from the village.
I slip Wepwawet’s grasp
Water engulfed me once more.
Shaking my head, I tried to bring my hands to my face and found that they were still tied behind my back. Suddenly a rope tightened around my neck, pulling on the tender underside of my throat. Then a violent tug yanked my head back and out of the water.
Coughing and gasping, I fell onto my side. My shoulder struck a sharp-edged rock along the river bank. As the pain traveled across my body, I twisted away from the rock and saw torches held by two Medjay warriors. Behind them I saw only darkness.
I was no longer in the village.
Trying to swallow, I felt the rope drawn tight around my
neck. Fear surged through me, and I opened my mouth to gulp air. Instead I began to cough and choke.
Unseen hands grabbed me and pulled me to my knees. The rope around my neck grew slack, and then a blurry motion came from my left side and an open hand slapped my face.
Knocked off balance, I shuffled my legs wide to catch my weight.
“Wake up,” Mahu shouted.
I turned my head toward the voice. As the police chief came into view, I remembered my last waking moment, when I had seen Kebu run from the village. I twisted away from the chief to see if Kebu was bound and lying on the ground beside me.
The police chief squatted in front of me, blocking my view of the men who were holding the torches.
“No one is going to save you, scribe,” Mahu said, reaching out and grabbing my chin. “You are going to answer my questions and then you are going to die.”
I pulled my head away from his grip so I could lower it to swallow. Then, looking up at the policeman, I gasped, “I need to talk to Kebu. He must return to Waset.” I tried to see into the policeman’s ka, to discover if it was Horus or Seth who had found lodging there.
But I saw only the dark eyes of a man filled with anger and fear.
“Who sent you?” Mahu said, regripping my chin, his fingers moving as if they ached to slide down to my neck and squeeze it shut.
“Lord Amenhotep,” I said.
“And why did he send you? Does he know about the ivory? Who else knows?” Mahu asked.
“He sent me to find Kebu,” I said.
“Why? Was Kebu sent here to mingle with the other Medjay and learn their secrets? Is he a spy for you? How did Amenhotep discover we are stealing ivory? Who talked to him? Which merchant?”
“I don’t know. I must talk to Kebu,” I said.
“What does he know?” Mahu asked, his hand sliding onto my neck.
“I don’t know,” I said. “That is why I must talk to him,” I added, aware that exasperation was entering my voice and worried that it would anger Mahu.
The hand tightened on my throat.
“Scribe, you will tell me what you seek,” Mahu said, his angry breath washing over me.
“I seek only to talk to Kebu,” I said, shutting my eyes as Mahu’s hand swung at me again.
The blow knocked me to the ground. Tasting blood, I focused on the morning in Lord Amenhotep’s tent when I had been sent to find Kebu. I pictured the blue light that filled the tent and the map and the four small statues that held it in place. I heard Lord Amenhotep’s words once more. They contained no mention of ivory, I was sure.
But they had also carried warning. My master had been plagued by a dark prophecy. Had he foreseen the danger I would face? Had Seth whispered to him that I would die here in distant Kerma?
I had been sent to find Kebu who had been sent to fetch Lord Imhotep and Queen Menwi. I had viewed the assignment as an adventure. I had expected to find them that day.
Now a month had passed.
As Mahu grabbed my arm and pulled me to my knees, I realized that I had no answers to satisfy Mahu.
I was going to die here and I would never see Queen Merti again.
“Answer me!” Mahu shouted, slapping me again, bringing a fresh flow of blood from my nose.
“Were you sent here because the ivory flow has slowed?” Mahu asked, his chest heaving with anger.
“No, I swear,” I said, hoping to find words that would set me free.
“You swear,” Mahu said, spitting on the ground at Suti’s knees.
“By Isis. By Osiris. By Ma’at. By Thoth,” I said, hoping that one of the gods would show me sympathy.
“You were sent to find Kebu,” Mahu said.
“Yes, that is all,” I said.
“Why?”
“To return him to Pharaoh Thutmose,” I said, closing my eyes Mahu raised his hand.
The slap landed loudly, turning my head and blurring my vision.
“Why? What is Kebu doing here?” Mahu asked.
“He isn’t going to tell you. He is too stupid. Or he doesn’t know,” one of the warriors said with a laugh. “He said Kebu’s words were for his ears only, so he hasn’t heard the words yet. Why are you wasting so much time? Just kill the boy. We need to find Kebu and ask him the questions.”
Holding my eyes closed, I saw bright sparks of light flare behind my eyelids.
A moment passed and the sparks faded. I opened my eyes to see that Mahu had turned away from me.
“Give me a knife,” Mahu demanded as he approached the torchbearers.
“You don’t have a knife?” one of the men asked in disbelief.
“Of course I have a knife. But its blade is metal. I want a stone edge,” Mahu said, holding out his hand.
One of the men tugged his knife from his belt and offered it to Mahu. As Mahu turned away, the man grabbed his arm.
“What?” Mahu said.
The man nodded at the ivory-handled bronze knife tucked into Mahu’s waistband. The police chief pulled it free and gave it to the Medjay. Then he stalked past me to the river’s edge and waded into the water. Returning to shore, he stopped in front of me and used a stone he had taken from the river to chip nicks into the knife blade.
“His words are for your ears,” he said as he worked.
“And for Pharaoh Thutmose,” I said, hoping that the ruler’s name would bring Mahu to his senses.
“Now, what words are you expecting to hear from Kebu?” Mahu said, reaching down and grabbing the top of my left ear.
I thought: Where Queen Menwi has gone ... where Lord Imhotep and Akila have gone...what happened to the child the queen was carrying ... what happened in Yehem. But those were words I could carry back to Lord Amenhotep, not words to scatter here in the wildness off Ta-Seti. They were words that I did not own, words that I was entrusted to find and to carry back to the Two Lands.
But, none of those worries concerned Mahu. His thoughts were only on his ivory. I wondered what words I could give him that would ease his anger and save my life.
Before I could find those words, I felt a sharp pain in the side of my head. Blood trickled down my cheek. Tears flooded my eyes and through that watery veil I saw Mahu’s arm draw back toward his body, bringing the chipped, bloodied knife blade into view.
“I am going to saw off your ears, scribe. Then I am going to find this Kebu. I will lay your ears before him and he will speak his words to them,” Mahu said.
“No,” I cried as the torchbearers laughed and stepped closer to watch Mahu torture me.
“Then tell me,” Mahu said, raising his arm and pushing the nicked edge of the knife into the cut he had started between my ear and the side of my head.
The knife blade felt like a scorpion’s sting, repeated over and over and over. I tried to remove myself from the pain, but my stomach began to spasm and more tears came to my eyes.
“I cannot tell you what I do not know,” I pleaded in a ragged voice.
(I am no hero. I am not brave. Yes, I have faced danger, but I always sought to avoid it. Except when those I loved were threatened. Or if ma’at was threatened. Or if a child was endangered. Then there was no choice. I would rather face death than let harm come to those I could save. How could one live otherwise?)
Mahu dragged the knife deeper into the wound. I felt the top half of my ear flop downward.
“I cannot tell you what I do not know,” Mahu said, mimicking my voice. He brought the bloody knife in front of my face. “First the ears, then your tongue,” he said.
Closing my eyes, I forced my mind to conjure up Queen Merti’s face. I imagined the inviting glisten of her lips as I leaned toward her farewell kiss. I felt the touch of her hand on my face, so tender as she traced the bruises from my other beating. I smelled the flowery scent of her oiled skin and the honeyed sweetness of her breath, her mouth so close to mine. I heard her voice as she breathed my name, its soft tone nestling in my heart.
Behind my back, I moved my unfeeling fingers,
imagining that they were entwined with hers. I felt once more the soft tear I had taken from her cheek and the warmth of her skin when we had embraced on the palace roof.
I would spend these last moments with my beloved queen.
Mahu forced the blade deeper into the wound.
The pain cut into my thoughts, forcing a moan from my mouth. I shook with fear and pain.
Mahu cut slowly, pausing to let each moment swell with both pain and anticipation.
“What do your ears hear now, scribe?” Mahu asked and then he began to make strange sounds: a fish gasping out of water … the feathery flap of a wounded bird …the slow croak of a lone frog.
I realized that the knife had stopped its agonizing movement.
I thought: I heard a frog. Perhaps Heh has stopped the crawl of time.
Curious, I opened my eyes. I looked up at Mahu.
His eyes were wide with surprise.
His knife arm went slack and his hand slumped from my head.
The nicked blade dangled from Mahu’s opening hand. Then the knife fell, and, tumbling, it tossed a drop of my blood skyward, an offering to the gods.
Fascinated, I watched the blood droplet rise in front of me. Pausing in its upward arc, the drop hung before me, its black sphere suspended in Khonsu’s cold-hearted light. And then, losing life, the drop surrendered to Geb’s pull.
Marveling at this different, timeless world that I had entered, I looked back at Mahu. His hand was clawing through the air toward his throat.
Then Mahu’s legs buckled. Twisting, he slowly collapsed.
As I watched Mahu, I heard Shu whistle an airy, tuneless note. And then another.
Mahu sank to his knees, bringing his face level with mine. The police chief’s eyes were dark with disbelief as he stared into my eyes. Then his eyes rolled upward and his ka fled.
As Mahu twisted to the ground, I saw a narrow shaft of wood protruding from the back of his neck. At the end of the shaft was an arrow head.
And I understood.
The strange sounds had been Mahu choking on the fletching of an arrow that had passed so far through his throat that only the feathery end remained lodged in his windpipe.
Now a breathy, scratchy moan seeped from the jagged hole in Mahu’s throat. The sound woke frog-headed Heh, and time resumed its rapid flow.
