Tamit rolled onto her back. “You can’t, Iry. You want to be king.”
“That was my dream when I didn’t have anything else. But now I have you.” I brushed damp hair away from her face. “I don’t want to be king without you at my side.”
Tamit took my hand in hers. “I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished, Iry. You’ve worked so hard. Don’t throw your future away because of me. I couldn’t live with myself.”
Tamit rolled out of bed and returned to her table. I watched while she applied malachite to her eyes and slipped on her bracelets and armbands. She was so beautiful. Then, while she put on her skirt, I got out of bed and put on my kilt. I took her in my arms and kissed her. “Stand here,” I said. I went to her table and rummaged in her box of jewelry and pulled out the necklace I’d awarded her. Standing behind her, I fastened it. It glittered against her chest. I kissed her neck. “Everything will work out, Tamit. I promise.”
***
I waited on one of the few unoccupied quays in the harbor of my sprawling settlement. Hemu and Hori and Isu and Paser and Meru and Niay and Tamit waited alongside me, nervous – none of them had ever met a king before. Everyone I’d awarded a gold necklace was wearing it. All except Tamit were holding their stick of office.
Now that Maadi was deserted my settlement was the undisputed control point on the river, and its largest and most important. Oarsmen poled the boat carrying Father and Lagus and Mekatre alongside the quay, red linen banners flying at bow and stern and attached to the scorpion standard amidships, and tied it to mooring posts. I hadn’t seen my brothers since they’d returned to the South from Sety’s estate, or Father since I’d departed Tjeni almost three years ago. Turning Ptah’s Settlement into one loyal to Father had kept me fully occupied ever since. The harbor was, as always, busy; not only were porters loading and unloading numerous vessels – the four with masts and furled sails were mine – but the harbor-side market just down from the quays was in full swing, crewmen from the various boats trading the grain and beer they’d received as pay for clothing woven by my settlement’s women in their homes and bread baked in their ovens and vegetables and fruit grown in their gardens, and objects made by craftsmen in my workshops, and fish freshly caught. Some locals were cutting hair and making sandals and performing similar services for the crewmen.
As the king’s party waited for the gangplank to be put in place I couldn’t help remember the first time I’d seen this harbor in company with Sety as I’d traveled to the North with him. I was proud of what I’d achieved since then. Twice as many quays lined the harbor now. There were many more warehouses too, safe within three of the planned four tall mud-brick walls that I’d ordered Isu to construct to keep goods safe from marauders, plastered, gleaming white. Meru worked on those walls year-round now, not just during the inundation, his men and their families an additional yet worthwhile expense. Outside the walls lay twice as many workers’ huts as two years ago, with more being erected every day. Settlers from Tjeni regularly arrived to swell my workforce, ferried by Minnefer, and I’d increased the number of workshops and granaries and bakeries and breweries accordingly to serve them. More delta estates supported us than had before, including new ones founded by Sety. Maadi was deserted now, most of its buildings collapsed or collapsing, its lanes drifted with sand, its trading areas abandoned. My settlement was now the largest north of Tjeni. Nothing moved north or south on the river without my consent. But I hadn’t let that power go to my head. I never for a second forgot that I served Father and eventually my brother Lagus, unless of course I jumped over him to succeed Father.
I’d addressed more than just the physical features of the settlement since I’d become its ruler. Tamit’s robust measures to control the flow of commodities and food between the delta estates and the South and Sakan were firmly in place. Thanks to the efforts of me and my overseers, when Father finally launched his war against Nubt we’d be able to send him a steady timely flow of foodstuffs and materials to feed and supply his army on my fleet of speedy boats. Tamit had trained numerous scribes how to use the labels that identified everything in the warehouses, and scribes who kept master lists of those labels so that at a glance I knew exactly what was available and where. Similar to goods, I now tracked the vessels that transported cargoes to and from my harbor, wherever in the world they came from, and the porters who hauled everything, and the craftsmen who turned raw materials into finished goods. Nothing happened in my settlement that I couldn’t account for.
I couldn’t have done it without Tamit. She was bright and eager and full of ideas and she’d earned the respect of the men who worked in the harbor area. Despite our marriage, half of them were still in love with her. Her smile and natural friendliness and infectious laughter never failed to win over the most recalcitrant porters and overseers. I relied on her to make sure the harbor and warehouses functioned properly. Though they wouldn’t voluntarily admit it, in a real sense Paser and Hemu and Hori worked for her, for she was the person who kept goods flowing.
Lagus and Mekatre bounded down the gangplank, followed at a statelier pace by Father. He wore his white crown and carried a crook and flail in his hands. He needed to make an impression. As did I. At my order, the moment Father’s boat touched the quay work in the harbor had ceased. Now all the workers assembled in a semicircle facing the quay, expectant, curious. Except for men who’d relocated from Tjeni and had seen Father most of their lives. For them this wasn’t that special an occasion. Family members had swarmed to the harbor too and they were intermixed with the workers.
“Welcome to Ptah’s Settlement, Father,” I said, bowing deeply.
“It’s much larger than I expected. More orderly. More people,” Father said. He indicated the distant walls. “The purpose?”
“They protect your warehouses. Three of the four walls are entirely completed and the fourth is chest-high. One more inundation and your goods will be completely protected from raiders. I’ve employed virtually every farmer idled by the inundation on delta estates these past years along with permanent workers to hurry the work along. This is Meru, the overseer in charge of construction.”
He bowed. “Majesty.”
I made more introductions. “This is Isu. He oversees your craftsmen. This is Paser, the harbormaster. He also distributes goods to your workers and oversees your granaries. Hemu, overseer of your warehouses. Hori oversees your porters. Niay has constructed a fleet. Four boats so far.”
“The boats with sails,” Father said approvingly. “I want one for myself.”
“Already built, Majesty,” Niay said. “The one moored to the nearest quay. The largest and finest and fastest of all.”
“A gift, Father, from me to you. You’ll be home in a week’s less time than it took you to get here, even though you’ll be traveling against the current.”
“Splendid!”
“We’re grateful for your generosity, Majesty,” Paser said.
“I’ve received glowing reports on all of you from Iry,” Father replied.
Tamit was holding back from the others. She was as nervous as me, for the same reasons. But her face didn’t show it. She was forcing herself to remain calm and collected.
“Finally, Father, Tamit’s in charge of the men who track your goods from the time they arrive in our harbor until we send them on. I call them scribes.”
“Sety mentioned you were very proud of that, but he couldn’t make me understand how it worked,” Father said.
“Tamit’s improved her method even further since Sety visited you, Father. Show him, Tamit.” An opportunity for her to make an impression before I told him about us.
Tamit strode to where dozens of jars and pouches were carefully arranged at the end of the quay, awaiting transfer from the harbor to the warehouses. Father and I followed. Tamit fell to her knees and lifted a label with her fingertips and showed it to Father.
“A scribe attaches an ivory label like this to every container as it’s
being unloaded from a boat, Majesty.”
“Why?”
“The plant means the jar came from a delta estate, Majesty. The scorpion means it came from the one you founded. The bee means it contains honey.” She flipped the label over. “The mark on the reverse means the jar’s completely full. The scribe adds it to the label after he attaches it. All the containers with honey from your estate are stored together in the same warehouse, in a section designated for this label. When we need to send honey to Tjeni, we know exactly where to go and get it.”
Father inspected the various piles. “A plant and falcon?”
“Sety’s estate.”
“An ostrich?”
“The jar holds carved ivory from Farkha. The ostrich is Farkha’s god.”
“Since Farkha’s a settlement, not an estate, there’s no plant,” Father inferred.
“Exactly, Majesty. The ivory carved in this settlement’s workshop is stored in jars marked with a hippo. Since our ivory comes from hippos.”
“Thanks to Tamit, every worker in this settlement can tell at a glance what’s in every container we receive and where it came from, Father,” I said proudly. “Tamit designed every label herself.”
“More importantly, Majesty, because of these labels and how we use and track them, we move goods far more quickly and efficiently in this part of the valley than we did when your son first took charge of Ptah’s Settlement.”
“Father, Tamit invented and figured out how to use labels. She practically shamed me into listening to her ideas when I kept refusing because she was a commoner and a girl. Her persistence has paid off mightily. She implemented her system and trained the scribes and porters and boat captains and the rest. She’s absolutely indispensable to me.”
Tamit blushed at my praise.
“That’s why you wear a golden necklace?” Father asked.
“I awarded it to Tamit in your name, Father. These other overseers too, who’ve made outstanding contributions to Ptah’s Settlement.”
“Who gave you the idea for labels, Tamit?” Father queried.
“No one, Majesty. I figured it out on my own.”
Father looked skeptical. Why not? What woman in Tjeni was capable of doing what Tamit had done? What woman in Tjeni was capable of functioning as an overseer? Especially when men everywhere rejected even the idea of being directed by a woman. That had been a fight Tamit had fought and won.
“I understand that the products of delta estates support the settlement’s workers and their families,” Father said.
I nodded. “We’ve established more estates in the delta this past year to match the growth of Ptah’s Settlement, Father. Luckily, there’s far more cultivable land in the delta than in the valley. There’s no limit to how large a population the delta can support.”
Father swept his eyes over the containers from his estate. “Does my estate support your workers, Iry?”
“No, Majesty,” Tamit interrupted. “What’s produced there is either stored in a special warehouse here or traded for ivory or other luxury objects, such as jars of wine, which are then put into that warehouse. Everything in it will eventually be transferred to Tjeni to accompany you to the Afterlife.”
Father turned his attention to me. “What about the rest of the warehouses here. Are they full?”
“Practically overflowing, Father. In fact, we received a boatload of Retunian wine yesterday.”
“Wine for my grave?”
“Yes, Father.”
“If they keep arriving at the present rate, Majesty, you’ll have thousands of jars by the time you’re laid to rest,” Tamit observed.
“That’s the idea.” Father smiled.
Mekatre bent close, his lips near my ear. “You’re not locking it all away, are you, Brother?” Northern wine was one of his weaknesses and passions.
“Of course not. I’ve set aside your rightful share. You won’t thirst while you’re here.”
Mekatre clapped me on the back. “And Father won’t miss a few jars.”
“What are those three men doing at the foot of the gangplank?” Father asked.
I nodded at Tamit.
“One is the boat’s captain, Majesty. Another works in your warehouses. The man holding the small wooden plank is a scribe. The plank is thinly covered with a layer of clay. See the cow label on the jars that have just been unloaded? They hold meat from one of the largest herds in the delta. Anyway, the captain and the warehouse official are negotiating the value of the boat’s cargo. They’ll eventually agree on an amount of goods produced in your workshops here that are of equal value to the cargo. Once they do, the scribe will make an image on the plank of the estate from which goods are to be transferred from the warehouse to the boat. He’ll indicate the quantity of goods next to the image. The scribe will take that plank to the warehouse and its overseer, Hemu, will arrange for those goods to be taken out of the warehouse and carried to the boat.”
“Hemu’s scribe maintains a record on a similar plank of how many goods of each type are stored in your warehouses,” I said. “As goods are either added or removed, he changes the quantity so that we always know what we have and how much of it.”
“Of course, goods reside in multiple warehouses. Depending on what the captain bartered for, records in several warehouse will need to be adjusted.”
“Ingenious and complicated,” Father said.
“We should implement Tamit’s system in every section of the valley from Tjeni north, Father,” I urged. “Then you’ll have absolute control over trade – not just the routes, but everything that moves over them.”
“I’ve trained plenty of scribes who can be sent wherever they’re needed to do it,” Tamit volunteered.
“Sounds like a good idea.”
Mekatre leaned close again and whispered in my ear. “Is Tamit taken, Brother? I wouldn’t mind a tumble with her while I’m here. Women with golden hair are extremely rare.”
“She’s very taken.” Best to change the subject. “How are preparations to attack Nubt coming along, Father?” I’d received only scattered reports the past two years, all from Sety.
“I’m still constructing a fleet to transport my troops, though it’s going slowly,” Father replied. “My craftsmen have been producing and stockpiling weapons. I’ve built dozens more granaries at Tjeni to store the emmer and barley we’ll need to feed everyone. If war against Nubt becomes necessary.”
“You think it might not?” I asked. That was surprising.
“Pentu came to me on a peace mission about a year ago.”
That was news to me.
“With his wife, Matia,” Mekatre interjected. “His very pregnant wife.”
If he hoped to produce a reaction from me, he didn’t. Mention of Matia stirred only vague memories now. I no longer thought about how she’d hurt me, not after Tamit had completely filled my heart with love for her. Thank the gods I’d told Tamit about Matia. She didn’t react to Mekatre either.
“They tried to convince me to lift my blockade of Nubt,” Father said.
“Really?”
“They claimed it was so effective that Nubt’s elites were about to turn on King Ika.”
“They were afraid Sabu would set his father aside and take the throne and make war a certainty,” Lagus said.
“Did you? Lift the blockade?” I asked.
Father laughed. “I made them grovel, Iry. You should have seen it. They offered me Sabu’s weight in gold annually. Matia volunteered to leave her husband and marry Mekatre.”
“As if I’d have accepted a pregnant cow,” Mekatre said disgustedly.
Another failed attempt to get a rise out of me.
“Matia even volunteered to kill Sabu with her own hands.”
“And?”
“I refused to lift the blockade. I told Pentu I’m quite willing to let internal dissension rip Nubt’s elites apart. It’ll make it so much easier for me to capture the settlement if they’re fighting amongst themselves.
Which I’m counting on. We have fewer fighting men than Nubt since we’ve sent so many of our farmers to here and the delta and Sakan to strengthen my presence in the North. If Ika bought mercenaries we’d be seriously outmanned. Anyway, Pentu and Matia slunk back to Nubt in defeat. So Nubt continues to grow weaker while we grow stronger.”
“Ika’s continuing to spend his resources preparing for war,” Lagus added. “He’s been strengthening Nubt’s walls and storing grain and constructing boats. Ika’s workshops are busy making weapons.”
“But not as many as ours,” Mekatre said. “I’ve made sure of that.”
“How long do you plan to remain in the North, Father?” I asked.
“A week. No longer. Nubt has spies in my court. I don’t want my absence to give Ika courage enough to reverse course and become belligerent and attack Tjeni. Though that’s unlikely. The man has no stomach for war, and Pentu would surely talk him out of it.”
***
Father and Tamit and I sat at the edge of the plateau on the west side of the valley overlooking Ptah’s Settlement. He’d requested that the three of us meet alone. I’d selected this spot for its magnificent view. An hour ago we’d ridden donkeys to the foot of the plateau, then up a narrow winding trail to the top. Behind us was stark desert, sand without a trace of vegetation, the sky hazy with windblown dust. Below us was Ptah’s Settlement, sprawling for more than a mile along the inundation-swollen river. Boats bobbed and swayed at every quay. Several more boats were approaching from the direction of the sea. One was mine, its sail billowing, overtaking and passing the others. The harbor and warehouses were beehives of activity, the men working there ant-like at this distance, an endless line of porters and donkeys moving between the two districts. We could see a long way north and south. The waving reeds and papyrus in the delta were indistinct bright green patches in the midst of a vast silver lake. The river that sliced through the valley was wide, flowing relentlessly north, dark with silt carried from the lands south of the cataract.
House of Scorpion Page 29
