Praise for Pauline Gedge
“Gedge excels at setting the scene and subtly evoking a sense of the period as she tells a timeless story of greed, love, and revenge.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Gedge makes the past so accessible. You can imagine walking between the pillars into a magnificent hall and watching it come alive with the smell of the fresh paint on the frescoes.”
—The Globe and Mail
“Gedge vividly renders the exotic, sensuous world of ancient Memphis, the domestic rituals of bathing and dressing, the social ambience of superstition and spells.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Gedge has such a terrific feel for ancient Egypt that the reader merrily suspends disbelief and hangs on for the ride.”
—Calgary Herald
“Her richly colourful descriptions … hit the reader with photographic clarity.”
—The Ottawa Sun
“Gedge has brought Egypt alive, not just the dry and sandy Egypt we know from archaeology, but the day-today workings of what was one of the greatest and most beautiful kingdoms in the history of the world.”
—Quill & Quire
“Each volume is a carefully devised segment, with its own distinct flavour and texture. When put together, then the skill and workmanship of the whole undertaking stand out clearly. The trilogy is one of Pauline Gedge’s most appealing works.”
—Edmonton Journal
“Gedge … has the magical ability to earn a reader’s suspension of disbelief.”
—Toronto Star
“Pauline Gedge’s strengths—imagination, ingenuity in plotting, and convincing characterization—are here in abundance.”
—Books in Canada
“Gedge draws another vivid picture of Ancient Egypt and skillfully weaves her dramatic tale of intrigue, treachery, and manipulation. Her historical novels have the ability to bring a period fully before us; it is possible to feel the heat and experience the pageantry she so ably describes.”
—The Shuswap Sun
“Pauline Gedge’s knowledge of Egyptian history is both extensive and intimate, and has enabled her to produce an entire society of the time of Ramses II with admirable vitality. She has a sharp eye for the salient detail, and an evocative way with landscape and interiors. She can produce a mood and suggest an atmosphere … A very good story well told, and it engrosses the reader from the first page to the last.”
—The Globe and Mail
PENGUIN CANADA
THE HIPPOPOTAMUS MARSH
PAULINE GEDGE is the award-winning and bestselling author of eleven previous novels, eight of which are inspired by Egyptian history. Her first, Child of the Morning, won the Alberta Search-for-a-New Novelist Competition. In France, her second novel, The Eagle and the Raven, received the Jean Boujassy award from the Société des Gens des Lettres, and The Twelfth Transforming, the second of her Egyptian novels, won the Writers Guild of Alberta Best Novel of the Year Award. Her books have sold more than 250,000 copies in Canada alone; worldwide, they have sold more than six million copies and have been translated into eighteen languages. Pauline Gedge lives in Alberta.
ALSO BY PAULINE GEDGE
Child of the Morning
The Eagle and the Raven
Stargate
The Twelfth Transforming
Scroll of Saqqara
The Covenant
House of Dreams
House of Illusions
The Oasis: Lords of the Two
Lands, Volume Two
The Horus Road: Lords of the Two Lands, Volume Three
The Twice Born
THE
HIPPOPOTAMUS
MARSH
Lords of the Two Lands
VOLUME ONE
PAULINE
GEDGE
PENGUIN CANADA
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3 (a division of Pearson Canada Inc.)
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Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
First published in a Viking Canada paperback by Penguin Group (Canada), a division of Pearson Canada Inc., 1999
Published in Penguin Canada paperback by Penguin Group (Canada), a division of Pearson Canada Inc., 2000
Published in this edition, 2007
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 (OPM)
Copyright © Pauline Gedge, 1999
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
Publisher’s note: This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Manufactured in the U.S.A.
LIBRARY AND ARCHIVES CANADA CATALOGUING IN PUBLICATION
Gedge, Pauline, 1945–
The hippopotamus marsh / Pauline Gedge.
(Lords of the two lands ; v. 1)
Originally publ.: Toronto : Viking, 1998.
Includes bibliographical references.
ISBN 978-0-14-316745-7
1. Egypt—History—To 332 B.C.—Fiction. I. Title. II. Series: Gedge, Pauline, 1945– Lords of the two lands ; v. 1.
PS8563.E33H56 2007 C813’.54 C2007-903370-9
ISBN-13: 978-0-14-316745-7
ISBN-10: 0-14-316745-6
Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
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This trilogy is dedicated to Prince Kamose, one of the most obscure and misunderstood characters in Egyptian history. I hope that in some small way I have contributed to his rehabilitation.
CHARACTER LIST
THE FAMILY
Seqenenra Tao—Prince of Weset
Aahotep—his wife
Tetisheri—his mother
Si-Amun—his eldest son
Kamose—his second son
Ahmose—his third son
Aahmes-nefertari—his elder daughter
Tani—his younger daughter
Ahmose-onkh—a son of Si-Amun and his sister/wife Aahmes-nefertari
MALE SERVANTS
Akhtoy—the Chief Steward
> Kares—Steward to Aahotep
Mersu—Steward to Tetisheri
Uni—a Steward
Ipi—the Chief Scribe
FEMALE SERVANTS
Isis—Tetisheri’s body servant
Hetepet—Aahotep’s body servant
Heket—Tani’s body servant
Raa—Ahmose-onkh’s nurse
RELATIVES AND FRIENDS
Teti—Governor of Khemennu, Inspector and Administrator of Dikes and Canals, and husband of Aahotep’s cousin
Nefer-Sakharu—Teti’s wife and Aahotep’s cousin
Ramose—their son and Tani’s betrothed
Amunmose—High Priest of Amun
Turi—Ahmose’s wrestling partner
THE PRINCES
Hor-Aha—a native of Wawat and leader of the Medjay
Intef of Qebt
Iasen of Badari
Makhu of Akhmin
Mesehti of Djawati
Ankhmahor of Aabtu
Harkhuf, his son
Sebek-nakht of Mennofer
OTHER EGYPTIANS
Paheri—Mayor of Nekheb
Het-uy—Mayor of Pi-Hathor
Baba Abana—Guardian of Vessels
Kay Abana, his son
THE SETIU
Awoserra Aqenenra Apepa—the King
Nehmen—his Chief Steward
Yku-didi—his Chief Herald
Khian—a Herald
Itju—his Chief Scribe
Pezedkhu—a General
Dudu—a General
INTRODUCTION
AT THE END of the Twelfth Dynasty the Egyptians found themselves in the hands of a foreign power they knew as the Setiu, the Rulers of Uplands. We know them as the Hyksos. They had initially wandered into Egypt from the less fertile eastern country of Rethennu in order to pasture their flocks and herds in the lush Delta region. Once settled, their traders followed them, eager to profit from Egypt’s wealth. Skilled in matters of administration, they gradually removed all authority from a weak Egyptian government until control was entirely in their hands. It was a mostly bloodless invasion achieved through the subtle means of political and economic coercion. Their kings cared little for the country as a whole, plundering it for their own ends and aping the customs of their Egyptian predecessors in a largely successful effort to lull the people into submission. By the middle of the Seventeenth Dynasty they had been securely entrenched in Egypt for just over two hundred years, ruling from their northern capital, the House of the Leg, Het-Uart.
1
SEQENENRA CAME OUT onto the roof at last, panting a little from his exertion, and lowered himself so that his back was resting against the sagging remains of the windcatcher. He drew up his knees with an inward sigh of satisfaction. This was his sanctuary, this rubble-littered corner above what had once been the women’s quarters of the old palace. He could sit here and think or brood or simply rest his eyes on river and fields, his estate or the straggling town of Weset that hugged the bank and encircled the two temples. Often, in the somnolent afternoons when his wife slept or gossiped with her women and the children had taken their bodyguards and gone to swim in the river, he would slip away, walk through the vast, silent courtyard of this derelict god’s home, and enter the shrouded, empty rooms. Few physical reminders of his ancestors remained. Here the swift glint of yellow paint on a pillar, there the black-and-white shock of a wadjet-eye and an indecipherable cartouche still cast a lingering spell over the untenanted shadows, but the halls and passages, the intimate bedchambers and mighty reception areas with their gloomy pillars, were scoured by wind and echoed when he walked through.
The structure was swiftly becoming dangerous. The mud bricks from which it had been built were decaying. Whole walls were nothing but piles of dust. Ceilings had collapsed, letting in shafts of light whose very brilliance often seemed to him sacrilegious. Sometimes he went and stood in the principal audience chamber where the Horus Throne used to rest on its dais, listening to the silence, watching the squares of light that came through the high windows move imperceptibly across the sand-sullied floor, but he could not long endure the atmosphere of solemn sadness.
Today he had not retreated here to gnaw at some administrative problem or even to pursue a line of uninterrupted thought in peace. As Prince of Weset and Governor of the Five Nomes he was a busy man, his duties predictable but regular, and he had come to cherish the few hours he was able to spend alone, high up where the irritations and responsibilities of his position and his family shrank to their proper proportions under the spell of the panorama laid out below him. It was spring. The Nile was flowing with a ponderous, powerful slowness, its banks a tangle of hectic green reeds and feathery papyrus fronds nodding in the sweet breeze. Beyond it the western cliffs shivered, dun and arid, against a pure blue sky. A few small craft bobbed aimlessly, masts bare, disturbing the ducks and an occasional heron that rose white and languid from the marshes.
Seqenenra’s gaze wandered north. The river swept around a bend and was lost to view, but on the east side, his side, the black fields criss-crossed with palm-lined irrigation canals lay wet and fallow, still too soft to be trodden by the peasants who would soon scatter them with grain.
Closer in, just beyond the broken wall that had once completely surrounded the palace, his servants squatted planting vegetables, their naked brown backs gleaming. He could hear their voices, a spasmodic but pleasant murmur, as they worked. The roof of his house could be clearly seen, lower than he was. Cushions and scattered linen made a bright, intermittent splash between the branches of the sheltering sycamores and acacia that gave shade to his garden. Farther out he watched the flags fronting the pylons on Amun’s temple ripple, and past the holy precinct, a corner of Montu’s shrine thrust like a brown knife edge into the near horizon.
Seqenenra felt himself begin to relax. The Inundation had been generous, flooding the land with both its necessities, water and silt, and if the crops sprang up healthy and strong the harvest would be equally bountiful. It was too early yet to have received word from the overseer of his vineyard in the western Delta, but he presumed that his grapes would hang heavy and bursting on their vines this year. The fruit from the trellis that shaded a portion of the path running from his watersteps to the house were always used for juice, not wine. My cattle have no disease and my people’s bellies will be full, he thought gratefully. Of course, a great deal of my wealth will go north in taxes but I will not complain. Not as long as I am left to my own devices.
He stirred, all at once aware of a piece of chipped brick lodged between the sole of one foot and his sandal, and as he reached down to pick it free, his mood became tinged with a brief anxiety. I delude myself if I believe that I am forgotten here in the south, that the only time I occupy Apepa’s mind is when he sends out his overseers to collect the taxes, his thoughts ran on. The miles between us are no guarantee of my safety. I wish it were so, but to him I am like this little shard, pricking him uncomfortably in the moments when there is nothing else to distract him from the knowledge that I exist. I cannot change my lineage, melt into the anonymity of minor nobility. I am a reminder to him of his own foreign roots, and what are they compared to the mighty gods who sired me? Well, I will not consider these things today. I did not clamber up here to ponder either Apepa’s past or my own. How glorious is my corner of this beautiful Egypt! Leaning back he half-closed his eyes.
For perhaps an hour he drifted on a tide of somnolence, enjoying a gentle but steady breeze that mitigated the afternoon heat of the sun, and he had just decided that he had lingered long enough and ought to be leaving the roof when a shout brought him reluctantly to his feet. He walked to the edge and peered down. Si-Amun was standing in a gap of the decaying enclosure wall, his twin, Kamose, behind him. Both young men were naked but for their loincloths.
“I thought you might be up there, Father!” Si-Amun called, pointing north. “We’ve been swimming and we saw a royal boat beat round the bend. By the way the sail is
coming down, I believe it will head for our watersteps. What do you think?”
Seqenenra glanced in the direction of his son’s arm. A slim craft was labouring towards him, triangular sail even now being furled. Blue-and-white pennants fluttered fore and aft. Several men stood on the deck, liveried in the same colours. It was indeed a royal craft. It will go by, Seqenenra thought. Most of them go by on their way to Kush, eager for gold from the mines, for slaves, for ostrich feathers and other exotic trinkets. Si-Amun is probably hoping that it will indeed put in here. He would like nothing better than a visit from one of the King’s representatives and would wring from him every last detail of life in Het-Uart, though his loyalty to me would forbid him to express too much joy in such an opportunity. But I will breathe more freely when I see it glide past and dwindle out of sight. “I think that they are merely negotiating a change in the wind’s direction,” he called back. Si-Amun gave a resigned shrug.
“You are probably right,” he said loudly, “and I am bored today.” He waved and turned towards the house. Seqenenra watched him for a moment, but then his attention returned to the river. He had expected to see the bow of the vessel with its sail being hoisted again, but to his dismay the oars had been run out and the craft was already veering towards his watersteps. Alarmed, he hurried down the stairs.
He emerged into the courtyard, and when he reached the gap in the wall he found Kamose waiting for him. “Si-Amun was right. They are not going on,” he said tersely. “They are coming here.” Kamose stood back as he pushed his way through and both of them looked towards the river.
“What can they possibly want?” Kamose asked worriedly. “New Year’s Day was five months ago. The tribute was paid, the gifts sent and acknowledged, and it is too early for our tax assessment.”
Seqenenra shook his head, glancing at his son’s handsome face as they started for the house together. “I cannot guess,” he replied heavily, “but it will be nothing to our advantage, you may be sure.”
The Hippopotamus Marsh Page 1
