by Jerry Dubs
And now they are ended.
Forever.
And that is reality.
“Grandfather?” There was alarm in Neferhotep’s voice.
Imhotep shook himself from his reverie. Tears were on his face. He wiped them away and smiled sadly at Neferhotep.
“No visions,” he said, surprised to hear the sadness in his voice. “Just memories. I was thinking of your grandmother.”
“She is in the Field of Reeds,” Neferhotep said in comfort. “You will be with her again.”
Placing both hands on his staff Imhotep leaned his weight on the heavy stick and looked off into the distance. “Yes, Neferhotep, I suppose I am impatient. But, let us talk of the now. You leave today for Avaris. And then on to the fortress at Tjaru. Then Gaza where the army forms,” Imhotep said, reciting facts to regain control of his mind.
“Yes,” Neferhotep said.
“My point, Neferhotep, is that the arm of Pharaoh Thutmose has great reach. If he discovers that you and Menwi love each other, there will be no place in the world where you will be safe. No place where your love can grow.”
“Our love will endure in the Field of Reeds,” Neferhotep said.
“I know,” Imhotep agreed. “But I can help you and Menwi. I can make it possible for your love to thrive before you enter the Field of Reeds.”
“You can talk with Pharaoh Thutmose?”
“No, there are no words to make your love for Menwi possible here.”
“But you said there is no other place ... ” Neferhotep stopped as he realized what his grandfather was offering.
“I am searching for a time portal, like the one Bata and you used to rescue me. But this would take us forward in time, to the world that Akila and I left.”
“You can do this?”
“I can,” Imhotep assured him. “But I will need some time. And I will need you and Menwi to be willing to leave this world.”
“We would be together?”
“Yes.”
Neferhotep looked at the sand for a few minutes. “I cannot leave while the Two Lands is threatened,” he said finally.
“I know,” Imhotep said. “Go, defeat the King of Kadesh. When you return we will be ready. You and Menwi can be together.”
Men-Nefer: Drafted
A week later a caravan of placid donkeys waited where the disinterested oxen had stood. Swishing their dark brown tails to chase flies, they stood in a long line, their dun coats blending with the dusty river road while soldiers tied packs to their sides.
“Five hundred donkeys,” Amenhotep told Imhotep when he saw his friend looking over the line of pack animals. “The line stretches farther than the oxen. While an ox takes up more space, because they are larger they can carry more, so we needed fewer.” He waved his hands at the donkeys. “I know, details, details. But, you might enjoy this. I paced off the line, actually counted my steps for the caravan of oxen and for the donkeys. Four thousand and sixty steps for the oxen. Four thousand and thirty for the donkeys.
“I thought of you measuring the distance between temple pillars when I paced it.”
Imhotep surveyed the line of donkeys. Turning to Amenhotep with a smile in his eyes, he asked, “Will the soldiers eat the donkeys like they will eat the oxen?”
Although he knew the question was meant in jest, Amenhotep responded seriously.
“We have tried that,” he said. “With the right spices and enough hunger ... ”
Imhotep closed his eyes.
Leaning close to his mentor, Amenhotep whispered, “We ate horses, too.”
Imhotep tilted his head in question.
“Actually, they tasted better than the donkeys.” Amenhotep shrugged. “But it shouldn’t be necessary. Not for our men, at least.”
“What do you mean?”
“We have reports that the King of Kadesh has gathered his army at the city of Megiddo. I say ‘city,’ but it is a walled fortress on a hilltop. If our army captures the king on the field of battle, the war will end. But if they escape and take refuge in the city, then Pharaoh Thutmose will surround them and wait until they are starved into submission. Those inside the city will eat their horses, dogs, donkeys, cats, rats ... whatever they can.
“It could take months, but in the end they will surrender.”
Imhotep nodded his understanding.
“Do you think they will retreat to the city safely?” Amenhotep asked anxiously.
Imhotep shook his head. He knew that Pharaoh Thutmose would defeat the King of Kadesh, but he had never read about the battle, so he had no memory of it now. ”I don’t know, Amenhotep.”
The donkey closest to them pricked up its ears and soon Imhotep and Amenhotep heard the clatter of horses and the grind of chariot wheels.
“Pharaoh Thutmose,” Amenhotep said, nodding toward the approaching cloud of dust.
Stepping back from the road, Imhotep and Amenhotep found shade beneath a trio of short palm trees, their bent branches low enough that Imhotep had to push the fronds away with his free hand.
The line of pack animals forced the chariots into single file as they drove to the front of the line of donkeys. The sight tickled a memory, but the thought eluded Imhotep. Leaning on his staff he studied the advancing line of chariots, hoping to either bring the memory to surface or make this new memory strong enough to stay with him.
Seeing a blaze of light at the front of the chariot file, Imhotep realized that Pharaoh Thutmose was leading the charioteers. Two black horses, white and blue feathered plumes rising from their heads, pulled his chariot. Their leather harness straps were sheathed in linen stitched with gold-threaded cartouches of Pharaoh Thutmose, Ptah, Montu, and Sobek. The cab of the chariot was covered in the precious mixture of gold and silver called electrum. The left side showed Pharaoh Thutmose loosing arrows as he charged into battle, the right showed Pharaoh Thutmose striking down kneeling enemies with a khopesh sword.
The lord of the Two Lands wore his tight blue war crown this morning. His kohl-lined eyes flashed with excitement as he raised a short whip overhead. He held the whip aloft with an arm that gleamed with oil and flashed with golden bands.
The citizens of Men-Nefer who had come to watch the second third of the army depart dropped to their knees and shouted Pharaoh Thutmose’s name as he passed by them. The soldiers who were loading the donkeys turned from their tasks and saluted their commander, arms outstretched, holding their swords, as they chanted his name.
Amenhotep knelt in the shade of the palm trees. Imhotep, who no longer knelt before gods or royalty, bowed his head. Smiling, he thought of modern politicians who sat in comfort behind tinted windows of a black SUV motorcade and imagined themselves impressive. He shook his head as he pictured twenty-first century politicians, all of them so eager to talk of power and war. But who of them could take the double reins of a chariot and keep their balance as they rode to battle? Who among them would expose themselves to arrows and swords or endure the exhaustion, hunger, and thirst of the march?
Hadn’t Dick Cheney, bombastic advocate of war, taken deferment after deferment to avoid actually fighting in a war when he was young?
Imhotep sighed as he recalled the hypocrisy of the modern world. It was one of the reasons he had decided to stay in ancient Egypt. And now, fear for his family’s survival was making him long for the modern world.
I just want to find a place and time to enjoy what is left of my family.
His thoughts were interrupted by an elbow striking his leg.
Looking down he saw Amenhotep tilting his head toward the road.
Following Amenhotep’s motion, Imhotep saw that Pharaoh Thutmose had reined his chariot to a stop in front of him.
“Long life!” Imhotep said automatically.
Pharaoh Thutmose nodded acknowledgment and, handing the reins of his chariot to a soldier, stepped from the chariot to approach Imhotep and Amenhotep, who had remained kneeling.
“Rise,” he said.
Amenhotep
got to his feet and stood with head bowed. Imhotep smiled welcome to the ruler of the Two Lands.
“From what I hear, this caravan will have a well-marked trail to follow to Avaris,” Pharaoh Thutmose said, his eyes bright with amusement.
Amenhotep nodded. “Neferhotep has sent messengers each night describing their progress. All is going well.”
“I think Pharaoh Thutmose is referring to the mountains of droppings the oxen are leaving in their wake,” Imhotep said.
Pharaoh Thutmose laughed. “Yes, exactly, Lord Imhotep. The messengers report that the infantry will be able to follow the trail with their noses alone. It was wise, Amenhotep, to send the maryannu last. We will have another week for the droppings to lose their piquancy.”
Imhotep lowered his head. The casual nudity of the ancient world no longer affected him, but he had never gotten used to the unabashed conversations the ancient Egyptians held about sexual acts and bathroom habits.
Pharaoh Thutmose turned to look at the long line of donkeys.
“We will overwhelm the King of Kadesh,” he said confidently.
“I will visit Ptah and pray for your success each day,” Imhotep said.
Pharaoh Thutmose looked back at Imhotep. “Yes we will.”
We? Imhotep thought to himself.
“Pharaoh Thutmose, long life!” Imhotep said. “Queen Menwi is nearing her birthing time. You asked me to attend her.”
“Yes, Lord Imhotep, she grows large with our son.”
“Akila and I will stay with her, of course, and welcome your son to the Two Lands here within the temple of Ptah.”
“I would have you with me, Imhotep,” Pharaoh Thutmose said. “Your advice and your heka are needed in our battle.”
Imhotep bowed his head and kept his tongue. He felt Amenhotep watching him, wondering how this unexpected drama would end.
Imhotep tried to work through an alternative plan.
Once the army leaves, Ahmose can search alone. I can sketch a floor plan of the tomb and the false door I am seeking. Akila can attend Menwi and keep her and Neferhotep’s baby safe. And, he thought, if something happens to me, they will be well placed to escape before Thutmose returns.
Akila knows the hieroglyphs.
He felt Amenhotep tap his leg again.
Looking up he saw Pharaoh Thutmose waiting for a response.
“Yes, Pharaoh Thutmose,” he said, knowing from experience that ‘yes’ was always a better response to a ruler than asking them to repeat themselves.
Pharaoh Thutmose’s questioning face relaxed into a smile.
Looking at Amenhotep now, he said, “You have done well, Amenhotep. Your next challenge will be to find a way to transport our million prisoners and their wealth to the Two Lands.”
Turning, Pharaoh Thutmose took the reins from the soldier’s hands and stepped up into his chariot. Gently laying the reins on his horses’ backs, he shouted, “For the Two Lands!” and rolled away from Imhotep.
Imhotep lowered his head to avoid dust as Pharaoh Thutmose’s guards swept past in their chariots. When the air was clear, he turned to Amenhotep.
“What did I just agree to?”
Amenhotep shook his head. “You lived in the past before the pyramids were raised and you have visions of the future, but you sometimes forget to dwell here with your body.”
“What did Pharaoh Thutmose want?” Imhotep asked, growing anxious.
“He agreed that you should be with Queen Menwi when she gives birth,” Amenhotep said. As Imhotep breathed a sigh of relief, Amenhotep added, “So he ordered you and Akila to bring her with you.
“You are traveling with the army.”
***
Wine, Thanuny discovered, seemed to quiet the snake of pain that lived in his leg.
Not the first cup. Nor the second. But the third cup soothed even the angriest of snakes. It gives my walk an even gait, too, he thought. Although his legs had started to sprout tender, discolored bruises.
While the wine sated the snake, it also lulled Thanuny’s hearing and softened his thoughts.
It wasn’t the same as the many drunken nights he had spent in the barracks or at taverns in Waset. Many of those nights had simply disappeared from his life. This was different, as if he had fallen under water and was looking at the world as a fish would.
On nights when he had lost track of the number of wine cups he had emptied and the world was more watery, he thought that it would be comforting to slide deeper into the water and never emerge.
The army had left without him, making it difficult to see himself as a soldier.
However, Imhotep had gone with them. So he no longer saw the arrogant man-god walking the temple hallways as if the temple was Hut-ka-Imhotep and not Hut-ka-Ptah.
But he knew that Imhotep was riding in a chariot beside Pharaoh Thutmose. The ruler was blind to the impostor’s evil.
Imhotep crippled me, and when we passed in the temple hallways, he didn’t even acknowledge the pain he had inflicted on me.
The memory of the slights was as painful as the loss of his toes.
He doesn’t even remember destroying my life. I am a dung beetle to him.
The thought made Thanuny as angry as the snake that lived in his leg.
Standing just inside Queen Satiah’s chambers, his eyes darted toward the long table where the queen often set a jar of wine, baskets of fruit, and platters of meat. He saw the wine jar and began to limp slowly in that direction, keeping an eye on the angry queen.
Pacing the floor, she had her fists clenched. Her face is clenched, too, he thought. It brought lines to the corners of her eyes and furrowed her brow. Suddenly, he saw her as a fortune teller in the market, hunchbacked and hiding in shadows.
Her face had hardened during the month they had been in Men-Nefer. Her moodiness and anger had grown at the same pace that Queen Menwi’s stomach had swollen.
“She is beyond our reach,” she said finally after the last servant had left her room.
There was no need for her to tell Thanuny who ‘she’ was. No one else was ever on her thoughts. He reached the table and, picking up a silver cup, scooped wine from the jar.
“She is with Pharaoh Thutmose and surrounded by the army and every minute takes her farther away. She’ll have her bastard while Thutmose is defeating the King of Kadesh. He’ll be sure that the gods are blessing him with victory and with their child.
“My sons will never sit on the throne.”
Queen Satiah stomped to the window. Crossing her arms, she looked out into the dark garden.
Focused on lulling the snake to sleep, Thanuny heard only half of her words, but her tone told him everything. Her anger washed over him, like waves from a rock thrown into the river. And the waves aligned with waves of his own pain and anger, giving each other strength.
As the anger fought through the wine, an idea began to form in Thanuny’s mind.
“Queen Satiah,” he said, the words fighting past wine that wanted to leave his stomach. “While she is away from Men-Nefer and the temple, there are fewer people watching.”
Queen Satiah turned from the window. “Are you drunk? She is with the entire army. There are a million eyes on her.”
“No,” Thanuny said. “I mean, yes, right now. But once the army reaches Gaza its attention will turn to the enemy. Pharaoh Thutmose will not endanger Queen Menwi, so when the army advances, Queen Menwi and Imhotep will be left behind.”
She watched her crippled guard, her thoughts trying to catch his.
“Pharaoh Thutmose will take every soldier with him to defeat the rebels.”
She nodded now, stepping toward Thanuny with understanding awakening in her eyes.
“I am a soldier,” he reminded her. “I can follow the army ... ”
“And do what needs to be done,” she finished for him.
He lowered his head.
“There will be no bastard child from the whore of Canaan,” she said, to herself more than to Thanuny.
He pictured Imhotep, his face full of confidence as he swung his magical snake staff at him. He imagined his khopesh cutting the heads from the snake staff. Imhotep’s heka would vanish like smoke from an untended fire, and Imhotep’s courage would drain away like wine from a leaky pot.
Imhotep will be defenseless.
Smiling, Thanuny imagined the god’s face as he realized that Wepwawet was coming for him. Thanuny would kick off his sandal and show Imhotep his foot.
You did this, I will tell him.
And then, as Imhotep raises his hands to beg my forgiveness, my sword will strike as quickly as a snake.
Tjaru
Leaving Men-Nefer two days after the last of the army had departed, Thanuny’s chariot trailed the fast-moving maryannu along the Way of Horus.
He drove his horses north and east along the outer branch of the river Iteru’s delta streams to Avaris. Careful to maintain a slow pace, he stayed out of sight of the two thousand chariots of Pharaoh Thutmose’s army. However, the deep grooves that were worn into the road, the scattering of uncountable fist-sized droppings from four thousand horses and the charred circles that marked night fires reassured him that the fist of Amun was moving ahead of him.
Arriving in Avaris a week later, Thanuny learned that the charioteers had departed the previous dawn. He rested a second night and then resumed his slow chase, following the road toward Tjaru where the trail would turn north toward the coastal city of Gaza.
Thanuny had been a runner for the maryannu, a foot-soldier who trailed the chariots, rushing into the confusion caused by the chariots as they pierced the enemy lines. Armed with short stabbing spears, khopesh swords and the courage of lions, the runners were the deadly blade that followed Amun’s fist.
Now, riding in a chariot, he laughed in joy. The horses did the work as he balanced behind them. The sand the horses kicked up bounced against the front of his chariot, leaving the breeze that swept the sweat from his face, as soft and cooling as a lover’s touch.
