“They’ll be placed in the courtyard directly east of the Temple of Amun at Ipet–Isut,” Nefer replied. “They’ll be covered from top to bottom with electrum, so that they’ll blaze with light when Re touches them. Wherever you are in Waset, either in the town or on the west bank or anywhere in the valley, you’ll see them, a constant reminder that the god is with us.”
***
That evening Viceroy Seni hosted all of us in Thut’s party at an elaborate banquet.
The hall, where Seni held court when he was at Senet – most of the time he resided at Nekhen, overseeing the southern part of the valley from there – was much smaller and plainer than the audience hall at Waset, the mud–brick walls plastered and painted but not carved. Oil lamps on stands and flaming torches affixed to the walls cast light on the guests who crowded into every available inch of space. Young serving girls draped garlands of fragrant lotus blossoms about our necks as we entered. We made our way to the front of the room, everyone dropping to their knees as Thut passed. Thut and the viceroy and his wife and two grown daughters and Nefer shared a number of small tables facing the other guests. Hori and Aachel and I occupied a table a few feet away, close enough to hear their conversation. I did not miss the shy glances that Aachel and Hori constantly cast at one another.
Thut wore his yellow– and blue–striped nemes, a gold broad collar, armbands of gold around his biceps, and a yellow– and blue–striped shendyt with a blue sash. Nefer wore a white pleated dress with wide straps, turquoise earrings and bracelets and necklace, and a double–plumed vulture crown. She looked radiant. Aachel and I had spent hours that afternoon bathing and anointing her and lining her eyes with kohl and coloring her cheeks and lips. No man in the room could take his eyes off her. And that included Thut. That was, of course, something I both hoped for and didn’t want. I was convinced that if they truly fell in love with each other they would have a bright and happy future. I thought that with Nefer at his side Thut would neither need nor take more wives. It was truly what I desired for my friends, even though it would keep me from ever being with Thut myself.
The viceroy’s daughters were both openly flirting with Thut, even though he was seated next to Nefer and everyone in the land expected they would someday marry. Both girls were pretty but not beautiful. He flirted back anyway, enjoying their attention and that of other women seated nearby. It was a scene that had been repeated at banquet after banquet as we’d traveled to the cataract. I, of course, didn’t like the flirting one bit. I was jealous. I couldn’t have Thut, but I surely didn’t want anyone but Nefer to have him either. I drained the wine in my cup and studied Thut. I realized that on this trip, for the first time, I’d started seeing him as a woman saw a man. It was a revelation to me. I’d never imagined the profound difference between childhood infatuation and true love.
The rest of the room was filled with officials and their wives from nearby towns along the river, all seated at tables with either one or two chairs, all decked out in their finest clothing and jewels. Some of the women’s dresses were pleated, some sheer, some colored. One woman wore a net of red and turquoise tube beads over an opaque shift, others dresses with a single strap knotted on one side, some with long sleeves, most with none. A few women wore white mantles over their shoulders. Wigs were elaborate; nearly every woman had an incense cone atop her head. One corner was occupied by female musicians softly playing a harp, guitar, double pipe, lyre, square tambourine, darabooka drum and cymbals, their skirts sheer and hair long. Young girls in white skirts circulated among the tables bearing platters of food, and others with large jars of wine that they used to keep cups filled. The most beautiful of the serving girls stood near Thut, waiting to attend to his every need.
“You knew our grandfather?” Nefer asked the viceroy as we ate.
“I did, Majesty, and your father as well.”
“What was Grandfather like?”
“Aakheperkare – life, health, prosperity, the good god, justified – was a great warrior,” Seni answered. “In his second regnal year he marched into Nubia, through Wawat, all the way past the Third Cataract to Kush itself, where he set up a border stela, thus taking control of the African trade routes. That’s when he created the position of viceroy that I now hold to permanently oversee Kemet’s new territory. He brought back sons of Wawat’s various kings to be raised in his court as hostages. To show his might he even sailed home with a dead enemy bowman draped head down over the bow of his boat, Falcon.”
“His next campaign was against the Mitanni, in the North and East,” Thut interjected. “He took his army as far as the Euphrates River, the border of Naharina. He even hunted elephants in the swamps of Setjet on his way home. I’m going to do that some day.”
“Majesty – you must be very brave then,” the viceroy said.
“My brother certainly is, and a remarkable bowman too,” Nefer said proudly.
A voice came from one of the nearby tables. “I’ve heard rumors of your prowess, Majesty, carried far and wide across the land.”
I turned to look, as did everyone else.
A man in his mid–twenties, a soldier by his appearance, stood and eyed Thut. “Perhaps a demonstration, Majesty?” Despite his smile there was challenge in his voice.
Thut leaned back in his chair, regarded him calmly. “Your name?”
“Amenemhab, Majesty. I’m an archer in your army, stationed at the cataract.” His tone was diffident, yet every line of his body proclaimed his skepticism. And why not? No king ever made a modest claim about his abilities, especially since no one ever challenged him to prove that claim.
“I will conduct no demonstration,” Thut said dismissively.
I could see the triumph in Amenemhab’s eyes, that he had shown up the boy–king. Many broke into smiles in the room. Dislike for Amenemhab swept over me.
Thut leaned forward and himself smiled. “But a contest between bowmen… now that’s another matter.” Thut turned to Seni, spoke sharply. “Arrange it.”
“For tomorrow, Majesty?”
“No. Right now. In this hall.” Thut locked his eyes on Amenemhab’s. He wasn’t smiling any longer. Thut loved to compete. And he loved to win.
Amenemhab returned his stare, unblinking.
Seni summoned an attendant and whispered in his ear. The man rushed off.
Thut rose and his eyes swept the hall. “Let all who would challenge me stand.”
Amenemhab was like a single palm tree on an isolated desert plain. No one joined him. The local officials hung back, nervous, afraid, each looking one to another. I could almost hear their thoughts – every man among them assumed he would beat the king; all feared the consequences of doing so.
The tension in the room was suddenly palpable. Amenemhab had turned a festive banquet into a confrontation. I couldn’t see how this shooting contest was going to turn out well for anyone if Thut and Amenemhab remained the only competitors. King pitted against commoner – who knew what form that story would take, or how widely it would spread, or how it might damage Thut’s reputation. So, impulsively, I stood up. After all, I had some skill with a bow. I could hit a stationary target. And even if I missed, so what? Murmurs rolled through the crowd like a wave, punctuated by loud guffaws and laughter. The tension was broken, at least. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Thut laughed too. “Do the men of the cataract fear me more than my sister’s companion does? Very well – to overcome your fear, I’ll award gold to anyone who bests me.”
At that, men began to rise from their chairs until nearly all – except the aged – were standing. The viceroy’s attendant arrived just then bearing a copper target that was three fingers thick. He set it on a stand on one side of the hall. More attendants laid bows and arrows on the opposite side.
“One shot each. Whoever’s arrow penetrates the target the farthest and closest to the center will be declared the winner,” Thut announced. “I’ll shoot last.” His eyes scanned the room. “Who has the courage to shoot first?�
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Everyone looked around uncertainly, shifting from foot to foot. No one wanted to be embarrassed by making a poor shot in such august company. I had no such fear. There was no chance I’d win. I smiled knowingly at Thut. With a slight laugh of my own I strode to the far side of the room, put on an ivory arm brace, picked up a bow, selected an arrow, tossed my long hair back over my shoulders, took my position. “Majesty,” I said, bowing my head slightly to Thut.
“Proceed, My Lady,” he said amusedly, alone of all those in the room knowing my ability.
I saw encouragement in Nefer’s eyes, hope in Aachel’s, amazement in Hori’s.
I faced the target, blocked everyone from my mind. I fitted the arrow to the bowstring, pulled it back, sighted, released. The arrow struck about three inches to the right of center, its tip barely embedded in the copper. While I certainly wasn’t going to win the contest, lacking the strength of a man, I thought I’d done a respectable job. “Try beating that, Majesty,” I challenged gaily. I knew that I alone of the competitors could get away with taunting the king.
“I pray the gods will give me the strength, Mery,” he joked back.
More laughter rolled through the room. Together, the king and I had changed the tenor of the contest for the better. I, for one, was relieved.
A line quickly formed, and one after another men shot. Some missed the target altogether, to jeers and hoots of laughter and heckling; some hit the target, though their arrows glanced off; some hit farther away than I had; one hit dead center; three put their arrows all the way through the target – one a full three inches. By the end of the contest I was prouder of my shot than I’d been at the beginning.
Finally, only Amenemhab and Thut remained. The crowd watched with bated breath as Amenemhab stepped to the line. I heard someone whisper that he was the best bowman at the cataract, and from the way he fitted the arrow to the bow and drew the bowstring back I could tell he was an expert. He let his arrow fly and it sounded faster than anyone else’s had. He hit nearly dead center, a little to the right.
“A hand’s length through,” the attendant beside the target cried. “The new leader.”
There was wild applause in the hall. Amenemhab stepped to one side, smiling broadly, his friends clapping him on the back, certain he had just shown up the king, certain he would receive gold.
Thut stepped to the line. I could tell that all the men in the hall hoped he’d lose and every woman hoped he’d win. He fitted his arrow and drew back the bowstring, farther, farther, then let fly. His shot hit a bit left of center, a fraction farther out than Amenemhab’s shot.
The attendant looked behind the target, measured, faced the crowd, a stunned look on his face. “Three palms’ width,” he cried. “The winner is Menkheperre – life, health, prosperity.”
Applause swept through the hall. I saw disappointment on faces that had already counted the gold they would now not receive.
Thut gallantly turned to the slightly chastened Amenemhab. “When I return to Mennefer you’ll come with me, archer. I want men beside me in battle who are bold enough to challenge a king.”
“Thank you, Majesty.” Amenemhab bowed, truly surprised. He quickly recovered his swagger. “And perhaps someday we’ll test each other again.” His defeat had only whetted his appetite.
Thut laughed. “Count on it.”
And that, I thought, was how a king turned a potential enemy into a friend.
The hall was quickly put back in order. The musicians resumed playing and we all took our seats. Thut had a special smile for me.
“If I didn’t have the obelisks to transport I’d go farther south and explore with the king,” Nefer told Seni. “I’ve always been curious about what lies beyond the First Cataract.”
“The first section of Nubia, between the first and third cataracts, is known as Wawat, Majesty,” Seni said. “It is not fit for farming as we know it – the riverbanks are rocky and the inundation does not refresh its fields – but the surrounding desert is rich with gold.”
“Nubia’s mines are the source of our wealth,” Thut interrupted. “That’s why Grandfather established the Third Cataract as the southern boundary of Kemet in his wars.”
Seni nodded. “Beyond the Third Cataract lies Kush, a region of rich grassland, with which we trade. Then come Karoy and Trem, the latter beyond the Fifth Cataract. They are much less hospitable areas.”
“My father fought a campaign against Kush, didn’t he?” Thut asked.
“Indeed,” the viceroy answered. “He raised a stela on Abu to commemorate it.”
“I saw it today,” Nefer said.
“Did you memorize the inscription?” Thut teased. “I seem to remember you were talented that way.”
“You remember correctly, Brother.” Nefer sipped her wine, moistened her lips, recited: “Now, there was a chieftain in the north of impotent Kush, who had drifted into a time of conspiracy with a pair of Nubians in the southern plain. The king raged about like a panther after he heard, and said ‘As I live! As Re loves me! As I praise my father, the lord of the gods, Amun! I will not let a single man among them live! I will set death among them!’ Then the king sent a great army to Nubia, on his first occasion of victory, to overthrow all those who had plotted against the king and rebelled against the lord of the Two Lands.”
Everyone in the hall applauded.
“Impressive, Majesty,” Seni said. “My memory is not that good.”
“Recall is my gift from the gods,” Nefer said simply.
“At any rate, Majesty, your mother has asked that I send some children from Wawat’s royal families back to Waset with you, to serve as hostages,” Seni said. “I have rounded up a handful. Perhaps they can tell you about their land on your journey home.”
“I suppose that will have to content me,” Nefer said, looking meaningfully at Thut. “For now.”
***
What happened a few nights later was, for me, the most memorable event of our journey.
I couldn’t fall asleep because of the heat, and because my mind was racing with thoughts I couldn’t control. I decided to take a dip in the river to cool off. I quietly rose, made my way from the room I shared with Aachel and Nefer in the viceroy’s quarters, slipped through the town and past the extensive encampment of Thut’s soldiers and Nefer’s boatmen just outside its limits, walked north along the riverbank until the army’s campfires were mere pinpricks of light. The moon was full, the river silver in its light, and where the bank was not shaded by palms the night seemed nearly as bright as day. I could even make out details of the great elephant–like rocks edging the island of Abu, part way across the channel. I waded into the river, up to my knees. The water was refreshingly cool on my feet and calves. The wind sighed through a grove of palms on the bank and the tall marsh grass along the shore. All manner of insects were humming and chirping, and there were random splashes in the dark, no doubt small animals hunting fish or each other.
I heard a rustling close by. Someone was approaching. Panicking, I sloshed a few quick steps towards the center of the river, then crouched, so that the water covered me to my chin. I whispered a prayer to the gods that whoever was on the riverbank wouldn’t notice me. I cursed myself for being a fool. I should have brought a guard with me. There were nearly a thousand sailors and priests and servants in our expedition, not to mention locals and Thut’s soldiers. Anyone could be lurking on the bank, perhaps ill–intentioned, and I was huddled in the river, defenseless. Aachel and Nefer would never even miss me until they awoke in the morning if something happened.
A dark form took a few halting steps into the water, directly towards me.
“Who’s there?” I demanded, trying to keep the fear from my voice. I eyed the army’s distant campfires. They were in the wrong direction. I couldn’t possibly reach them by swimming because the river’s strong current was against me. All I could do to save myself was be bold. “I have a knife,” I bluffed.
“Mery. It’s me,
” came a quiet voice.
“Thut?” Relief washed over me.
“I was awake, sitting by my campfire. I saw you and followed.”
Thut was sharing the tents of his men here at the cataract, eschewing more comfortable quarters in the viceroy’s house.
I stood. Thut waded the rest of the distance that separated us. Just about the time I could make out his features in the moonlight, he dove into the river. A second after that his hands and forearms were wrapped around my knees and calves, and then I was underwater too.
I surfaced spluttering and laughing. Thut unceremoniously picked me up, one arm under my back, the other under my knees. My left hip pressed against his abdomen, my left side against his chest. I linked my fingers together behind his neck.
“The last time we were in the river together we were ten years old, just a few weeks before Father died,” Thut said.
“I remember. We always had so much fun in the water. Several times a week after you taught me to swim.”
“Not just to swim. You can ride and shoot because of me, too,” he said. “No adventure was ever too daunting.”
Thut let me down into the water. I wished he had held me close forever. The reason I’d been unable to sleep earlier was that I couldn’t get him out of my mind. For hours I’d been replaying every moment I’d spent with him on this journey, over and over, for in a few days we’d part once more – me to return to Waset, he to travel farther south – and I simply couldn’t bear the thought of it. I was desperately in love with Thut. How many more lonely years was I destined to live away from him? How would I stand it, feeling as I did?
I looked up at Thut, his face half in shadow, half in moonlight. The river was at our waists and I could see his broad muscled chest, his strong arms, the glittering eyes that were sweeping over me possessively. “It’s been absolutely wonderful being with you again, Thut. I’m going to miss you so very much.”
He took the Hathor amulet that dangled around my neck on its chain in his hand, the one he’d given me the day he told me he loved me, held it up.
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