Half a dozen wetnurses and several servants were in the nursery. Two were cuddling Gehes and Kama, second of his name, son of Weret and Kama. Gehes was already five months old, a month older than Kama. Another wetnurse was watching Nebta’s children – Heby and Nebta, both the second of their name, ages two and one respectively. There were many elite daughters and sons present as well, the majority infants. The older children were helping the wetnurses look after the younger.
My stay at Nubt with Scorpion had been eye-opening. Everything Niay had told Nofret and me before our trip had been accurate. Integration of Nubt and Tjeni was not going smoothly. Iry had spoken frankly on the day of our arrival about how much he missed me and my counsel. Yet, despite his pleas, Scorpion hadn’t let me sit beside the two of them in the audience hall even once. I understood his reluctance; Scorpion couldn’t afford to let anyone but him be regarded as Nubt’s true ruler and my presence would distract from that message.
But there were real problems in Nubt, and they weren’t going to disappear simply because Scorpion showed up every two months. So I’d met with Iry in secret aboard Niay’s boat the night of my arrival to strategize. It had been hard, that night and the weeks that followed, being around Iry. My love for him had intensified during the months I’d spent in Tjeni. But I forced myself not to reveal what I felt by word or sign. It wouldn’t have been fair to either of us. As much as possible, I saw him during my stay only in company with Scorpion or Heket or his daughters. The girls, of course, spent most of each day with Gehes. I, on the other hand, spent considerable time with Nubt’s overseers, playing in private the role I’d played before in the audience hall, straightening them out, demanding accountability. And I’d wandered Nubt each day, speaking with elites and commoners alike, trying to drum up support and arrange allies for Iry. Only time would tell if I’d succeeded.
“I should be happy,” Nebta replied cheerily. “Mekatre’s just assured his future.” She gazed at her son. “And Heby’s. He’ll be king of Tjeni after his father.”
“Oh?” Time to play innocent. Nebta considered me a Nubtian. She had no idea I knew anything about the machinations going on behind the scenes for Scorpion’s throne. Machinations that posed a threat to Gehes.
“Mekatre spent most of yesterday with Perneb,” Nebta said. “Do you know him?”
“I’ve encountered him at banquets,” I said noncommittally.
“He’s switched his support from Lagus to Mekatre. Now that Mekatre has both Minnefer’s and Perneb’s backing he’s sure to be Tjeni’s next king.”
“Won’t King Scorpion have something to say about that?” I asked. “Or Lagus?”
“Scorpion will be dead,” Nebta replied.
I thought it interesting she’d dismiss him so easily in front of me, Scorpion’s wife. She was underestimating me. Good.
“As for Lagus, he made a fatal mistake when he accepted the post at Ineb-hedj. He’s too far away from Tjeni. Mekatre’s been able to slowly pick apart Lagus’ elite coalition. It’s completely gone, ever since Mekatre’s made known how ineffective Lagus has been running Ineb-hedj.”
At least Lagus hadn’t murdered anyone in error as Mekatre had, to the best of my knowledge.
“Don’t worry, Matia. You’ll be taken care of after Scorpion dies. Mekatre’s promised you to Perneb. Your next husband won’t be royal, but he’ll be elite, and one of my husband’s closest counselors.”
“Mekatre used me to convince Perneb to support him?”
“In part, yes.”
So. Bartered away again by another man who had no right to barter me away. I had no doubt now how much of a threat Mekatre posed to Gehes and me, thanks to Nebta’s need to boast. Mekatre would do anything necessary to sit Scorpion’s throne.
“You’ll still have some status as Perneb’s wife, Matia. But not as much as mine. I’ll replace you as the valley’s most powerful woman.” With that, Nebta swirled out of the nursery.
If there was comfort to be had, it was that Mekatre had married a woman who craved status and wasn’t circumspect enough to keep her husband’s plans to herself. Years ago I’d flirted with Iry, hoping he’d let slip Scorpion’s ambitions. Looks like I was going to have to cozy up to Nebta from now on, to keep tabs on Mekatre.
I left the nursery and went to find Nofret. Quite unusually, she hadn’t broken my fast with me this morning. I encountered her in the corridor of the per’aa, near one of the storerooms. Her face was flushed and she was breathing hard. She’d been running.
“I was seeing Niay off at the quay,” she explained before I could ask. Her cheeks reddened perceptibly.
“You like him,” I averred.
“After Sabu, I vowed I’d never be with another man ever again, and I meant it,” Nofret replied. “He still haunts my dreams. But Niay’s such a kind and good man. So generous. So patient with me. We got to know each other fairly well these past months in Nubt.”
“And when he was letting you steer his boat?”
“I felt so powerful, Matia, so in control for the first time in my life. Flying upriver with the wind filling the sail was the exact moment I decided I’m not going to let what Sabu did ruin the rest of my life. I’m going to put him behind me and truly live. If anyone can help me move on, it’s Niay.”
“I’m happy for you, Nofret. I like him too.”
We reached my room. “I have news. I encountered Nebta in the nursery,” I said once we were inside with the door firmly closed behind us. “She was bragging that Perneb’s going to throw his support to Mekatre as Scorpion’s successor.”
“She said it outright?” Nofret was amazed.
“She did. Oh. And I’m to be Perneb’s bride.”
“The nerve!”
“Mekatre’s not trying to hide his intentions. That’s for sure.”
“I heard he was strutting around Tjeni like he’s already king while we were at Nubt,” Nofret reported. “I ran into a girl I know at the quay. Daughter of a porter. She told me.” She lowered her voice. “The girl said her father was ordered by Mekatre to remove dozens of jars of wine from one of the warehouses. She claimed it’s the one that holds the king’s grave goods.”
I fervently hoped Mekatre had been that stupid. If true, I’d have leverage over him. “We need to find out for sure, Nofret.”
An hour later we found ourselves standing before a warehouse not far from the per’aa. Guards flanked its entrance. Men were carrying containers inside, deliveries from Scorpion’s estate in the delta. That label I’d learned to identify. A scribe was standing beside the door, inscribing marks on a thin layer of clay spread atop a wooden plank.
“Is this where King Scorpion’s grave goods are stored?” I asked the scribe.
“A portion, Majesty. Several years ago the majority were transferred to a warehouse at Abdju. These are goods that’ve been accumulated since. They’ll be sent on once the warehouse is full again.”
“May I look around inside?”
“Of course, Majesty.”
For the next hour, as men continued to carry objects inside, Nofret and I wandered about, opening containers at random, inspecting contents. I’d never seen so much wealth in one place ever. Ivory, lapis lazuli, olive oil, wine, fat, grain, obsidian, gold, feathers, exotic animal skins – some materials in raw form, some in finished objects. If this was truly only a portion…
The scribe finished accounting for the delivery at the same time Nofret and I finished our inspection.
“Your name, scribe?”
“Siatum, Majesty.”
I indicated his plank. “You were trained by Tamit, I assume?”
“I was, Majesty. In Ineb-hedj, when it was called Ptah’s Settlement. She brought me with her to Tjeni to get things in order.”
I gazed around the warehouse. “Are they? In order?”
Siatum reddened.
“I know about the wine, Siatum,” Nofret said.
“If I was to count the jars in this warehouse would they match th
e inventory on your plank?” I asked pointedly.
Siatum looked like a hare caught in a trap. “No, Majesty,” he admitted. “The men who were sent to take the jars didn’t know about keeping an inventory. They didn’t have sense enough to make an adjustment.”
“Do you know who sent them?”
“I do, Majesty.”
“Which is why you didn’t raise an objection.”
“I know what His Majesty did to your cousins at Nubt. I value my skin more than I value your husband’s wine.”
“By ‘His Majesty’ you mean Mekatre.”
“Yes, Majesty.”
“I don’t hold your fear against you, Siatum. Do you know where Mekatre’s men took the wine?”
“I can find out easily enough, Majesty.”
“Can you round up trustworthy porters and move that wine back here tonight under cover of darkness without anyone knowing?”
“I can, Majesty.”
“Do it,” I ordered. “All the jars that were taken, and any others you find. Come to the per’aa and tell me when it’s done. No matter how late.”
“Yes, Majesty.”
The next afternoon I encountered Mekatre just as he was about to enter Scorpion’s audience hall.
“What’re you doing here?” he snapped.
“Scorpion invited me to attend today. He’s going to make an announcement of some kind that involves me.”
“Hopefully that he’s come to his senses and he’s setting you aside,” Mekatre said pleasantly.
The herald announced us before I could reply. Fact was, I had no idea why I’d been invited. We walked side by side up the central aisle to the dais. I caused a stir; I’d never been allowed in the hall during an audience before and no one in the room liked me. Whispered comments swelled through the hall as I passed. I noted that a chair had been placed next to Scorpion’s throne. For me. Mekatre noticed too. He wasn’t happy about it. His chair was to the right of the dais, at floor level. I’d be looking down on him after I was seated. We halted side by side at the foot of the dais. Scorpion arrived a moment later, strolling through the hall to the dais in all his magnificence, crown on his head, scepter in his hand. He ascended the steps and seated himself on his throne. I followed at his invitation and sat down beside him in my chair. Girls behind us began swishing fans. I gazed serenely at Mekatre, sitting in his lesser place.
The audience went on for hours, overseers reporting, petitioners requesting, Scorpion deciding. Exactly like all the audiences I’d attended in Father’s hall growing up, and like the ones I’d assisted Iry with. I was in my element. The issues were often boring, but I wasn’t bored. A few times I leaned over and asked Scorpion to clarify something. Each time he looked at me in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected me to remotely understand what was being discussed.
When the last petitioner had been dealt with, Scorpion rose.
“The Days of the Demons are less than two months away. Much has happened this year worth celebrating. I’ve conquered Nubt. Nubt’s king, Sabu, is dead. I have a new son, Gehes, by my wife Matia. I control the succession in Nekhen. The North is loosely allied with me. The inundation was excellent for the first time in eight years.” He paused and scanned the hall. “Tomorrow my messengers will go forth to every settlement between the cataract and the sea inviting kings and rulers and their elites and their ladies to come to Tjeni for a great lion hunt to celebrate the end of this year and the beginning of the next.”
Cries of delight rang throughout the hall.
Scorpion turned to me. “Matia, I want you to take charge of hosting our visitors – arrange places for them to sleep and daily meals and nightly banquets. Singers and dancers. Wine. See to logistics for my hunt – boats, huntsmen, food, weapons, supplies, servants. Find mooring places for our visitors’ vessels. Establish camps for their crews and servants and such.”
Finally. Something interesting to do. And fairly important. And very visible. “Of course, Majesty.” One interesting thing. But I had another in mind, one that would put Mekatre on notice that I was a force for him to reckon with. And a public venue in which to do it. I stood, so I wouldn’t be looking up at Scorpion. “Majesty, I noted that none of your overseers reported on the status of your grave goods today.” I glanced at Mekatre.
He looked at me, uncomprehending.
“Tamit was in charge of them, Matia.”
“You haven’t appointed anyone to replace her?”
“No.”
“The other day I was passing by the warehouse that holds those goods, Husband. I had a short conversation with the scribe who’s in charge, Siatum. He told me Tamit had transferred many boatloads of grave goods that had been stored in it to a warehouse at Abdju.”
“Yes. Several years ago.”
“Are you aware, Majesty, that since Tamit’s death the warehouse here has been nearly refilled with additional goods sent from the North?”
Scorpion looked at me, interested. “I didn’t.”
“Siatum showed me around. I’ve never seen such wealth. Aren’t you afraid things will go missing?”
“No one would dare.”
I glanced at Mekatre again. His brow was suddenly furrowed.
“Wouldn’t it be better to be sure, Husband?”
“I’ll appoint someone. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”
Time to strike. “Why not me?”
“You, Matia?”
“Iry taught me Tamit’s inventory system. I forced Nubt’s overseers to adopt it. I double-checked their planks weekly. I’m capable of monitoring your grave goods, Husband. No need to waste one of your overseer’s valuable time.”
“You really want to do this, Matia?”
“I do. I want to be of use to you on a permanent basis, Husband, in addition to this special project you’ve assigned me. Let me take an inventory tomorrow and make sure everything’s accounted for. Then I’ll go over it with you so you’ll know how much more you have to transfer to Abdju.”
“Go ahead, Matia,” Scorpion said. “I appreciate your initiative. You’re in charge of my grave goods from now on.”
“Thank you, Husband.” I gazed at Mekatre, triumphant, as I resumed my seat. Just let him try to steal from Scorpion now.
He looked worried. I suspected that until this moment he hadn’t understood that goods were inventoried. He wasn’t one to pay attention to details like that. He must be wondering if I’d be able to tie him to the missing wine. He must be, right now, cursing his greed. Or figuring out how to get rid of me before I started counting.
I caught up to him as we exited the hall. “By the way, Mekatre,” I said in a low voice, leaning close, “all the wine you stole from your father? It’s back in his warehouse. Along with your personal supply. My men couldn’t tell the difference when they raided your warehouse in the dark, I’m afraid.”
Mekatre grabbed my arm and propelled me to an out of the way corner of the hall. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he blustered.
I jerked my arm free. I ignored his denial. “Next time, send men who know how goods are accounted for, Mekatre. You made it too easy for me to confirm your thievery.”
He moved close, trying to intimidate me. “You’d better keep your mouth shut, Matia,” he warned.
“Or what, Mekatre? You’ll wrest me away from Scorpion and give me to Perneb?”
He went pale.
“Don’t worry, Mekatre. I won’t tell Scorpion – about the wine or about you bartering me away. As long as your thievery stops. And as long as you tell Perneb I’ll never be his wife.”
3250 BC: 16th regnal year of Scorpion, King of Tjeni
Days of the Demons
Matia
I stood with Scorpion at the entrance of the audience hall, waiting for the herald to announce us. Tonight the kings and rulers Scorpion had invited to Tjeni would feast; in the morning, they’d head to the desert to hunt lions. It was fair to say Tjeni had never seen such a gathering.
Visitors had been arriving from all over the valley for the past week. The kings and rulers were all being housed in Scorpion’s newly expanded per’aa, their elite retainers in the homes of Tjeni’s elites. Dozens of boats were moored along the river. The camps for boat crews and servants stretched for more than a mile along the riverbank. Tjeni’s hunters and herdsmen and fishermen and bakers and brewers and such were working day and night to feed everyone, the cookfires fed by woodsmen and tended by women and girls. At night those fires were making the sky glow.
I’d arranged it all.
The low roar of countless conversations had momentarily decreased in volume as each visitor was announced and moved into the hall to take his or her place. The kings and rulers were already seated – Khab and his wife Ini, Antef, Heby, Raherka, Khered, Itjet, On, Rama. So were the elites, Perneb and Minnefer and Maya and Sety and his wife Merit prominent among them. Nofret was sharing a table with Niay. Theirs was a sweetly budding romance. My half-sister Nebetah was with her husband, a minor elite, at a table near the rear of the hall. The rest of Tjeni’s royals had been announced and were now in a row at the front facing the visitors – Lagus and Satiah, Mekatre and Nebta, Iry and Heket, Weret and Kama. Heria, as yet unmarried, had followed the last two in.
“Scorpion, king of Tjeni and Nubt, Lord of the South, Beloved of Horus!” the herald cried. “Matia, king’s wife, king’s daughter, king’s sister.”
Everyone fell silent and turned towards us as we stepped through the door. We made an impressive couple. Scorpion was his usual regal self, bejeweled, kilt brilliant white, though his head was uncovered tonight. I’d never worn such a fine skirt, or gold necklace, or gold bracelets or girdle or anklets. All had been made especially for this occasion. I fairly shimmered in the light cast by flaming torches along the walls and bowls of oil with burning wicks set atop wooden stands throughout the hall. Fragrant flowers scented the air and colored the usually drab interior. An aisle divided the small two-person tables that entirely covered the floor except for a wide space in front of the royal row. Scorpion and I processed to the front. Everyone on both sides of the aisle fell to their knees as we passed, even the kings. There was absolutely no question that Scorpion was now the most powerful man in the valley.
House of Scorpion Page 54
