by Overton, Max
"What else does the heart do?"
"It is the site of the soul, of the reasoning faculty, of a man's character and emotions. It is through the heart that the gods speak to us. Channels connect the heart to every part of the body, and carry blood, air, tears, saliva, urine, sperm and excrement."
Meren nodded. "And the function of the brain?"
Khu hesitated, remembering some thoughts Nebhotep had on the subject, but he ignored these as unproven. "The function of the brain is to supply mucus to the nostrils. This is why, when the body is embalmed, the brain is removed through those same portals."
"What is the cause of infertility in a woman?"
Khu sighed and once more disregarded Nebhotep's opinions. "A blockage of the sexual passage."
"And its cure?"
"Irrigation of the woman's passage with beer. It is known that imbibing beer causes the body to expel large amounts of urine. In the same way, the application of beer will cause the body to likewise expel the sexual blockage. If this does not work, it is because the blockage is caused by a curse or a demon. In that case, prayers are called for."
"Very good."
The examination continued throughout the day, with Khu having to recall large amounts of written knowledge. He spoke of treatment for many diseases and injuries, describing wounds and symptoms, reciting the appropriate prayers for broken bones, flesh wounds, and bruises.
When the day came to an end, Khu collapsed onto his bed and slept, knowing he still faced another day of testing--a second day filled with practical exercises. Meren took Khu to the hospital and selected cases for the young applicant to treat.
A woman had a simple fracture of the arm. Khu felt the movement of the bones beneath his fingers and eased them back into position. He then bound the arm with little slips of paper bearing prayers inserted between the layers of bandages. A builder with a crushed right foot was next. Khu examined the tissues that had already turned black and stinking, and traced livid streaks of red ascending the man's calf.
"What is the proper treatment here?" Meren asked.
"The foot has died and will take the man with it," Khu said quietly, aware that the man was listening as intently as his pain and fever allowed.
"Do you recommend removing the foot?"
"The lower leg would have to go as well. The red streaks indicate the poisons in the rotting foot are ascending. One must cut where the flesh is still healthy."
"Show me."
"Is this what you want?" Khu asked the man.
"Will I live? I have a family to provide for."
Khu hesitated, judging the spread of the rot. "That is with the gods. If I cut you may live; if I do not cut, you will die."
"I will lose my job without a leg. Can I see my wife before you cut?"
"We do not have time to run all over the city looking for your wife," Meren said. "Choose now."
The man nodded. "Cut."
Khu started by selecting a sharp bronze blade and a saw. He brought together bandages and hot pitch, a bone needle and linen thread. Folded linen was placed under the diseased limb and a wad of linen was placed in the man's mouth to stifle his cries. Two strong slaves took hold of the patient, and Khu started the operation.
The man groaned and strained against the slaves holding him down as the bronze knife sliced through skin and flesh, and he bucked strongly, his cries becoming a muffled scream as the saw bit into the bone beneath the knee. Khu cut through channels, tubes within the flesh. Some gushed blood but others spurted, as if the blood was being thrown from the body. Khu saw it and wondered, but tucked his curiosity aside while he worked. Hot pitch sealed the flesh, and dramatically slowed the loss of blood, but fluid still pumped from two of the tubes.
Khu fashioned small loops from the linen thread and slipped them over the tubes, drawing them tight. The blood slowed and stopped.
"What are you doing?" Meren asked. "The proper procedure is to cauterise the flesh."
Khu nodded. "I know, but heat sears the flesh and adds to the pain. My instructor Nebhotep showed me this way."
Meren grunted but did not comment further.
The man had lost consciousness with the first application of pitch, and Khu worked fast to finish before he awoke. He threaded linen onto the needle and swiftly sewed flaps of skin over the stump of the leg. Then he checked his work carefully, making sure that the bleeding was no more than a slow ooze from the cut skin. He bound the limb in clean linen.
"He will be in pain when he wakes. I prescribe an infusion of willow bark, drunk as needed."
"You handled yourself well," Meren said. "Your only fault is that you are unduly solicitous of the patient's feelings. That may be appropriate for nobility, should you ever treat them, but is wasted on the lower classes. They do not feel pain or loss in the same way we do."
Khu said nothing, only crossing to a basin of water to wash the blood off his hands, arms and torso. He dried his hands on clean linen towels and turned back to his examiner, his face composed. "I await your instructions, sir."
Several relatively minor ailments followed--an inflamed eye, an abscessed tooth, abdominal pain, and a flesh wound caused by an animal bite. There was little that could be done for the eye beyond brewing a soothing herbal solution and bathing it.
"Not mashed tortoise brains?" Meren asked.
"If all else fails, but I think we should try a less extreme measure first."
The man with the abdominal pain lay curled around his distended belly.
"Where does it hurt?" Khu asked. The man told him and indicated on his taut skin. Khu felt the painful abdomen but could recommend only that the man be purged and prayers said. "There is possibly an obstruction in the lower channels where excrement has become hardened. A purge might shift it." Khu also prescribed the appropriate prayers.
Khu took a copper chisel and knocked out the broken tooth over the abscess, and then dug out the fragments from the gums with a small hook. A gush of stinking pus followed, and blood, which was washed away and the patient bit down on wadded cloth to stem the flow. The man's eyes were bright with tears but also gleamed with gratitude as the dull pounding ache of the abscess disappeared, to be replaced by the sharper, cleaner pain of a wound.
Meren pointed at the bite on the child's arm. "What animal caused that?"
Khu examined it carefully, noting the puncture wounds caused by teeth and the spread of the jaws. "Almost certainly a dog. What about it, little girl?" he asked the child. "Was it a dog?" The girl nodded.
"Luckily, the wounds are not deep. They must be thoroughly washed out and honey applied, before bandaging."
Khu's last case was a man who had fallen off a wall onto his head. The man was unconscious and breathing irregularly. The top of his head was bandaged, and when Khu undid the linen strips, he saw the skull had been fractured, the wound soft and giving as he probed it gently with his fingers.
"How long has he been like this?"
"Two days."
Khu regarded the general appearance of the man and listened to his laboured breathing. "He cannot survive. It would be kinder to do nothing."
"Imagine this man is a nobleman's son and the father asks you to treat him. What will you do?"
"The same. I would explain that he sleeps without distress and that operating will neither lengthen nor shorten his life."
"Are you certain of that?" Meren asked.
"Given his condition and the length of time since the accident, then yes. If I had seen him within hours of it happening, then I might try opening the skull and draining the blood in it."
"Do so anyway."
Khu nodded and set about preparing his patient. He reflected back the scalp, mopping up blood as it flowed, and gently picked fragments of bone from the wound, opening up a hole in the skull. A dense wad of congealed blood lay beneath the opening, and Khu commenced removing it. As he worked, the man shuddered and became still, his breathing falling silent.
"He is dead," Meren said. "Do no
t waste further time doing it, but instead tell me what you would do."
"I would clean the wound and the space below of all blood, wash it with a mild astringent liquid and then seal the hole."
"What would you use?"
"Beaten silver if the patient could afford it or carved wood or ivory. Then prayers."
Meren nodded. "Wash yourself and join me in my room."
Khu entered the room and stood waiting while Meren busied himself with some papers. The examiner looked up and regarded Khu dispassionately for some minutes.
"Khu, son of Pa-it, of Akhet-Re; you have shown yourself to be a competent physician though I must qualify that statement. Your knowledge of the body and its workings is good, but you show a lack of regard for the function of the gods in healing. No physician can hope to heal unless the gods will it so, so you should be using a greater component of prayer in your treatments. Further, you are too close to your patients. A physician must hold himself aloof, view his patients dispassionately, and keep conversation to a minimum. A patient is not a physician, so how can he possibly help with a diagnosis?"
Meren drummed his fingers on the table. "Beware of rejecting treatments that have served us well for centuries, Khu of Akhet-Re. I know of Nebhotep and his strange ideas, but do not listen too closely to him." The examiner sighed. "I will recommend to the Council of Physicians that you be added to the Book of our number. A scribe will copy out your licence to practice and send it to you at the palace."
Khu grinned, relief and elation washing over him. "Thank you, sir."
"Go on. Find your friends and celebrate," Meren said. "You have a promising career ahead of you."
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Chapter Twenty-Five
Jebu had stripped the forts he had captured in order to boost the numbers of his army. The result was that as the Amorite army fled in disorder, pursued by the victorious legions, the forts were almost defenceless and fell in quick succession to Horemheb. The king did not pass beyond the line of forts, content for now to have ousted the Amorites from Kemetu soil.
"However, there will be an accounting," he vowed.
The forts were in a state of disrepair after attack and counterattack, and Horemheb decided he needed them strengthened so nothing like this would happen again. He remanned each one and promised he would send builders north as soon as he could. Djedhor was left as legion commander of the newly formed Geb legion, and their few survivors strengthened by the arrival of more recruits from the south. Seqenenre was confirmed as the Heru commander, Mose of the Re, and Ptahwere of the Shu legion. Then he marched south to Zarw with representatives of all four legions to celebrate his triumph.
The citizens of Zarw turned out in force to welcome their heroes home. The small garrison formed a guard of honour and the leading citizens donated gold to deck the walls of the temples in gaudy banners and to provide meat and beer for everyone. The king entered the city at the head of his victorious troops and at once repaired to the temples of Heru and Amun to give thanks for his victory.
Seti, the father of Paramessu, now very old and infirm, invited the king to a feast in his own house, and lodgings there, even though the royal palace stood vacant. Horemheb thanked him warmly but decided that he would stay in the palace as there was business to deal with, not just celebrations. That first evening was spent in feasting and raucous recounting of the battle, where everyone claimed great deeds and feats of arms and nobody bothered overly much with the truth.
Set, the son of Paramessu, after greeting his grandfather, spent the meal in relatively quiet contemplation of Tuya, the beautiful young daughter of Raia, Lieutenant of Chariotry, his new commander. She, in turn, looked boldly back at the handsome youth and considered how she might talk with him.
The next day, Horemheb greeted the gods in their temples, and spent the morning in the Hall of Judgment in the palace, arbitrating on several disputes. Just before noon, two disputes involved Khabiru businessmen and he shocked all the parties by immediately finding against the Khabiru. One of the elders of the tribe was so incensed at what he saw as partiality, that he challenged the king.
Horemheb stared at the elder in silence until the man dropped his eyes and muttered an apology. "I will address this issue this afternoon. Be here with all the elders of your tribe."
The Khabiru elders returned an hour later, but Horemheb kept them waiting in the Hall until the sun had slid halfway to the western horizon before putting in an appearance.
"Who speaks for the Khabiru?" Horemheb demanded.
The elders looked at one another, and Jeheshua stepped forward. "No one man can speak for all Khabiru, O King. We have a Council, and all are of equal rank."
"Then choose one to speak for you all."
The Khabiru rapidly conferred. "I will speak for the Khabiru, O King," Jeheshua said.
"Very well, then hear my words. From today, a Khabiru resident in the Land of Kemet will not be afforded the same rights as native-born Kemetu. Any dispute involving a Khabiru and a Kemetu will be resolved in favour of the Kemetu."
A swell of muttering from the Khabiru elders greeted the king's words, and Jeheshua looked troubled. "O King, where is the justice in that decision?"
Horemheb leaned forward and fixed the Khabiru elder with a hard stare. "You think me unjust?" he asked quietly. Behind him, the soldiers murmured angrily and were hushed with a gesture.
Jeheshua glanced at his fellow elders for support. "O King, since the days of Nebmaetre and before, the Khabiru have enjoyed the privileges of residency in Kemetu, with all the benefits that provides. Why do you find against us now?"
"You prattle on about benefits and privileges, but you are silent about your duties and responsibilities. Enumerate them, that I might hear your thoughts, Khabiru Elder."
Jeheshua thought for a few moments. "A Khabiru is expected to obey all laws of the land, to behave in a civil and subservient manner toward those in authority, to pay taxes and conduct himself in decency."
"And the duties and responsibilities of a Kemetu man?"
"The same, O King. That is the point..."
"The same, save in one crucial point, Khabiru." Horemheb overrode the other man. "A Kemetu man is required to defend his country when called upon. Why should the Khabiru be exempt from this?"
"I...I dispute that we are different, O King," Jeheshua protested. "There are Khabiru men in your army."
"A handful, no more, and when I called on all men to support me against Ay and against the Amorites, not a single Khabiru joined me."
Consternation showed on the faces of the Elders. "Ay was the lawful king," protested one of them.
"That is true, O King," Jeheshua added. "Would you encourage the Khabiru to rebel against the lawful authority of the king?"
Horemheb hid a scowl. "And when I, as duly anointed king, called for all loyal citizens to come to the aid of Kemet? What is your excuse for this lack of support?"
"O King, our god forbade it." Jeheshua lowered his head in a pious attitude.
"Did he indeed? And which god is this?"
"The god of our ancestors, O King. He is the One True God and has no form and no name, being addressed simply as 'Lord' or 'God'."
"He sounds remarkably like the Aten heresy Akhenaten came up with. He was part Khabiru too, I seem to remember. Well, I intend to stamp out that heresy and I will destroy the worship of you and your god too, if you or he gets in the way."
"O King, many have tried but none shall succeed, for he is the creator of Heaven and Earth, and we are His people."
Horemheb laughed. "You think the Khabiru can stand against me? I am a god too, remember. I am minded to destroy the Khabiru from the face of Kemet, but I will be merciful this time. It is my order that the Khabiru of Zarw be taken from this city where they abuse the hospitality shown by the people of Kemet and be divided up into smaller groups so they can make a worthwhile contribution to Kemetu society in building projects."
"O K
ing, be merciful," Jeheshua cried out. The other elders started wailing and tearing at their clothes. "Our community is our protection against the ungodliness of our neighbours. If we must leave Zarw, then let us go as one group so we can hearten and strengthen one another."
"It is this unity that has led to your intransigence. In smaller groups you will pay more heed to the wishes and desires of your neighbours..."
"Be merciful, O King. Do not..."
"Enough!" Horemheb snapped. "Let it be as I said." He signalled to his soldiers and they rushed forward, taking the Khabiru Elders into custody and ushering them out of the Hall of Justice.
The king turned to Neferikare when the doors shut behind the weeping men, and said, "The spokesman--make sure he is in the contingent heading north to repair the forts. As for the others, make sure that no more than one elder goes with each group."
"Er, yes, sire."
"Do you see why? The elders are the centres of the community. Together, they will work each other up into rebellion; alone, they will be afraid to agitate and will control their people. Make sure that each elder is given good food, good accommodation, whatever he wants--within reason. Let him know that it is the position that attracts these things and that they can easily be taken away. Human nature will encourage him to hold on to what he has and resist other people risking his good fortune."
Neferikare considered this and wondered whether to comment, in the end deciding he would risk it. "Some of those men--the spokesman, for instance--are good men with principles, sire. They will not be bought off."
"You are right. If they will not be bought off, they are removed and replaced by more venal characters."
The movement of the Khabiru tent city started immediately and continued for many days. The first announcements to the general population led to riots, and soldiers were called in to quell them. Several young Khabiru were killed and the remainder grudgingly started to uproot a lifestyle that had lasted three or four generations.
