by Jerry Dubs
Despite the heat, all six of the men wore long, crudely striped robes with hoods that fell against their backs. They stood erect, unbent by the burden of carrying reed bundles or stones or trays of mortar. Although their arms hung casually at their sides there was an air of expectancy in the men’s stances. At the center of the group was a shorter man, his arms thicker, his shoulders more relaxed. The men at his side gave him a little more space.
He cocked his head as he stared across the clearing. Then he sighed and, with his men following him, he began to walk toward the temple.
“Good morning,” he said as he drew near the temple entrance.
Re-Khu heard their footsteps and his ear picked up on the stranger’s accent. “Travelers,” he said, a smile still on his face. “Welcome to Iunu. If you would like, Ipwet here could douse you with water, too.”
The leader smiled at Ipwet. For a moment his smile froze as his eyes examined her face closely. Then he relaxed and nodded to Ipwet. “That sounds inviting, but perhaps another time, Ipwet,” he pronounced her name slowly, weighing each syllable as carefully as a merchant weighs a bag of gold.
“We’ve just come from the river. However, if you could tell us where we could find some beer? I hear that the beer here is the best in all the Two Lands.”
Re-Khu pushed himself to his feet. He lost his balance briefly and the stranger stepped forward quickly to help steady the old priest. When he reached forward his exposed arm was lighter in color than his hands or his broad face and shaved head.
“Thank you,” Re-Khu said. “The heat ... ” He waved a hand in the air.
“Yes,” the stranger said. “We came down river from Ta-Seti. We thought it would be cooler as we followed the river, but instead Re seems to be closer to the Two Lands here than anywhere else.”
Re-Khu laughed softly. “Maybe he hears our prayers.”
The stranger nodded agreement. “I’m sure he does.”
“There is a tavern down that street,” Ipwet said, tilting her head across the plaza, her eyes on the stranger’s face.
“Yes,” Re-Khu agreed. “It has an awning over the doorway with a tree painted on it. It is still a tree, isn’t it?” he asked Ipwet.
“Yes, Re-Khu, they haven’t changed it this week.”
“It was a hippo and then a crocodile and then a bird of some sort, I think it was meant to be an ibis,” Re-Khu said. “The owner likes to paint.” He laughed again. “I’m sorry, I forgot to ask your name.”
“Hemwy,” the stranger said. “My friends and I are looking to establish trading partners. Ebony wood, ivory, gold, a little incense.”
“Ah,” Re-Khu said. “So you’ve been all along the river?”
“Yes, every town and marketplace,” Hemwy said.
“Then you’ll have news from all of the nomes and each of the towns and every outpost in the Two Lands.” Re-Khu turned toward Ipwet. “They can join us for dinner, don’t you think? I would like to hear some news.”
“I would be honored,” Hemwy said. “My friends have plans to meet with merchants, but I would enjoy sitting with you, Re-Khu. And with you, Ipwet,” he added, turning to the priestess.
When the men had gone, Re-Khu said to Ipwet, “You were unusually quiet, Ipwet.”
She sighed deeply and looked after the men as they walked across the plaza. “They wanted to talk with you,” she answered.
Re-Khu chuckled. “Few men would choose to talk to an aged priest when you are there.” He stopped laughing and said, “His voice sounded familiar, didn’t it? There was an accent, definitely Nubian, but he spoke our tongue easily. And there was something about the way the words fell and ... oh, well, it will come to me. Or it won’t. And his name, that was familiar, too.”
He reached back toward the temple wall.
“Where did I leave my walking stick, Ipwet?”
She picked up the stick and gave it to the priest who linked his free arm through hers. “I think I’ll finish that bath you started for me. And if you could send the barber around, I’ll try to make myself presentable for our guest.”
He tapped at the dusty ground and said, “Forward, eh, Ipwet? Ceaselessly forward.”
***
Hemwy arrived after the ceremony of prayers to give Re strength in his fight against the serpent of night. Instead of a Nubian robe, he wore an Egyptian kilt of fine linen with three tassels that reached almost to the ground. He had shaved his head and wore soft leather sandals. His broad, muscled chest was smooth and oiled; an armlet of gold encircled his right biceps.
Ipwet, waiting alone by the temple entrance, gasped when she saw him appear in the failing light; he was a ghost from her past, a spirit called from a time before her rebirth in the delta.
There was a bounce to his step, an energy that made his adult figure move as carefree and happy as a child, an eleven-year old boy, to Ipwet’s eye. Within her heart a dream awoke and each step Hemwy took toward her added strength to the memory that was uncoiling from her past.
Halfway across the plaza he started to jog, an unseemly sight for a man so finely dressed. Ipwet found herself moving toward him, her arms unfolding by her side, reaching out to welcome him.
He was nodding his head now, a smile growing on his face, a face so familiar and yet so changed by time. Tears began to fall from Ipwet’s eyes, tears of disbelief, joy, fear, surprise and happiness. Unbounded happiness.
Soon they were within reach and he pulled her close, his face beside hers, their cheeks touching and he whispered, “Nebti.”
She nodded her head fiercely against him, feeling her skin move against her brother’s face, the touch reaffirming what her eyes and her ears told her.
“Djoser,” she whispered back.
Horus Rising
The dinner, filled with laughter, music and stories of the land far beyond the first cataract, ended and Re-Khu stood. Leaning forward to balance himself on the wooden table, he said, “Please excuse me, Hemwy. Although it is always nighttime to these old eyes, my bones tell me that it is past my bedtime.”
Djoser pushed back his chair and quickly went to the old man’s side. Gripping Re-Khu’s elbow he whispered, “Let me help you, Re-Khu.” Then turning to Hetephernebti and the other acolytes sitting at the long table he said in a louder voice, “May I accompany you, Re-Khu? I have just one or two more questions.”
To his surprise, Re-Khu threw back his head and laughed. The old priest turned to Djoser and patted his hand. “You are too gracious, Hemwy. Everyone knows that I am a doddering old man who is likely to trip over his own feet and damage a wall as he falls down. Take my arm, hand me my walking stick and help me stumble to my chambers. I know that my body is weakening. Whatever strength remains is in my ka, which,” he turned and winked a blind eye at Djoser, “could fly back to my room, if it wasn’t for this tired body.”
Then he put his hand out for his walking stick and linked his free arm with Djoser’s arm. Pointing with his walking stick, he said, “Lead on, Hemwy.”
As the men left the room, Re-Khu leaned closer to Djoser and whispered, “When Re takes something, he gives something. He took my sight, but my ears are sharper.”
“He has blessed you?” Djoser asked as they entered a long hallway.
Re-Khu chuckled. He tapped his stick against the stone floor and said, “I can’t tell you what a god’s intentions are. But I can tell you that your voice and Ipwet’s voice are the same. My chambers are the fourth doorway to the left, Hemwy.” He stressed the name, making it a question.
Djoser glanced at him, but Re-Khu’s blind eyes were fixed on the floor ahead of him.
“What was I saying? Ah, yes, your voices. Your words and hers dance together, the accent, the tone, the cadence. Even your silences are the same.”
He waved his free hand and jutted his chin forward as they walked to his chamber. “I have known Ipwet for fifteen years. I trust her. My life is hers. And so I will trust you. If Ipwet decides to tell me who you are, I will listen. But
I will never ask.”
“I trust her with my life as well,” Hemwy said.
Re-Khu nodded and continued his slow walk to his room.
“You know,” Re-Khu said as they reached the open doorway to his room. The aged priest paused and, cocking his head to the side, listened. Satisfied that they were alone, he continued, “Ipwet arrived at this temple at the same time that the young queen died in Waset. She tried to hide it, but Ipwet was terrified.
“A few weeks after her arrival, soldiers from Waset, commanded by General Babaef, came here asking if anyone had arrived at the temple recently. I told them that there were many pilgrims. They asked about young women, especially one of Ipwet’s age and size and eye color. I told them that many young women found solace in the pure heart of Re and that I took little notice of each girl who entered the temple.”
He paused and looking toward Hemwy’s face, but seeing into the past, he chuckled. “General Babaef was a pompous man, very full of himself and very confident in the power of his army. But I was just as pompous. He had the strength of spears, the might of the army and the word of the king. I had the painted walls of the temple, a simple robe and the belief that a god was watching over me. We faced each other, chests puffed out in importance, right out there by the bench where I was sitting when you first arrived.
“He glared at me, his bulging frog eyes trying to squint above a stern frown that was meant to alarm me. But these eyes have looked upon the face of Re, so who was Babaef to frighten me, eh? Behind him his personal guard shuffled their feet and looked at the ground. They could have easily overpowered me. I knew that. But did they want to desecrate the Temple of Re and call down the god’s wrath? I didn’t think so.
“So little Babaef glared at me and I smiled at him. I don’t know how long we might have stood there, but then Re intervened. It was after noon and he had sailed, as he always does, across the top of the sky and as he looked down at the entrance his light struck an amulet I was wearing that day. Re’s bright voice reflected from the amulet and bounced across Babaef’s shoulder. I might have turned a little, just like this.” Re-Khu twisted slightly to his left, his face alight with the memory of the confrontation.
“Re’s reflected light pierced Babaef’s eyes and the general jerked his head to the side as if he had been struck. One of the soldiers gasped and Babaef turned around and directed his glare at the poor young man. I didn’t want Babaef to lose face, well, maybe just a little, so I quickly said, ‘If you could return tomorrow, General Babaef, I would gladly escort you throughout the temple. I can have food prepared to honor your presence and organize a small entertainment. We have an excellent harpist.’
“When he turned back around to face me, his eyes were watering and red from Re’s light. And they were filled with hate. He wanted to strike me, we both knew it. But how could he attack a priest who has invited him to dine with him? He set a time and then turned and strutted away. I tried very hard, Hemwy, to not smile.
“The next day he returned with his guards and I escorted them through the grounds. We looked in every room, every storage closet, every alcove and chamber. They were very thorough and we were very civil with each other. The only room they did not enter was the adyton, where the statue of Re lives. Only priests are allowed entry to Re’s sacred home.
“By coincidence the search occurred on the very day that I had instructed Ipwet to spend time in the adyton meditating on Re’s all-seeing power.” Re-Khu shrugged and tried to look innocent, but his sightless eyes were filled with mirth. “So I don’t know if Ipwet was the person little General Babaef was searching for.”
He threw his head back and laughed, shaking his head in glee at the memory.
Hemwy squeezed the priest’s bony shoulder. “I think that not only are you blessed by Re, but Ipwet is blessed in having you as a friend and protector,” he said. “I hope to be blessed as well.”
***
When Djoser returned to the banquet hall he found Hetephernebti leaning to her left side as she staggered across the room carrying a bucket of water. Wbt-priests, attendants and acolytes were busy clearing the tables, carrying platters and cups from the room, washing the cleared tables and sweeping the floor.
Hetephernebti’s face was aglow with the pleasure of the meal and seeing her long-lost brother again. Seeing the question in his eyes as he looked at the bucket she was carrying, she said, “Before we can talk, I must help clear the hall. The leftover food will be taken to the temple gates and distributed to families who need it. The hall itself will be cleared and cleaned. Then we will have the rest of the night to talk.”
Djoser nodded and asked what he could do to help. Just then there was a small yelp and looking toward the sound Djoser saw a young woman hopping on one foot. She was bent over holding her other foot in her hands.
Djoser, who had noticed the woman earlier in the evening, was immediately struck by two things: the way the thin fabric of her gown stretched across her large breasts as she swayed and that she was laughing, the joy in her face radiating a carefree happiness that made him smile.
Beside him he heard Hetephernebti call, “Inetkawes?”
“The chair leg attacked me,” the girl answered between laughs. She hopped around the chair which was pulled out from one of the side tables. Flopping onto it, she leaned forward to rub her foot. “Don’t worry, Mother,” she said to Hetephernebti, “No need to send for the doctor, I’ve just lost a few toes.”
Around her the men and women shook their heads and laughed.
“My daughter, Inetkawes,” Hetephernebti told her brother.
“Your daughter? I didn’t know,” he said.
She shook her head. “It is a long story.”
“She is as beautiful as her mother,” Djoser said.
“Well, she is certainly as full of herself as I was. She says she wants the temple life, but I see her heart. When I was her age I thought I wanted to be like our mother, but what I really wanted was temple life. I think Inetkawes will find her destiny elsewhere.”
Across the room, injury forgotten, Inetkawes was on her feet, a tray of dishes in her arms as she began to skip across the hall.
***
When the hall was cleared and the room had grown quiet, Hetephernebti took her brother’s hand and led him to her own suite of rooms.
A year earlier Re-Khu had told his priests that Hetephernebti, whom they knew as Ipwet, would succeed him. Although most temples were led by a male priest, there had been no argument from the clerics at the Temple of Re. Everyone recognized Hetephernebti’s devotion to the god and that her only ambition was to serve the sun god.
Hetephernebti had a small antechamber where she could greet guests, a slightly larger reception room for meals and formal meetings, her bedroom and a second, smaller bedroom where Inetkawes, who usually stayed in a dormitory with other wbt-priestesses, sometimes slept.
She led Djoser to the reception room, where they found a small bowl of figs and grapes, a round loaf of bread, two cups and a jar of wine. Inetkawes was leaning over the table, folding a linen napkin. She had discarded her robe, which had become wet while cleaning the banquet hall, and was wearing only a linen sash tied around her waist.
Seeing her closer now, Djoser saw that she was fifteen or sixteen years old, an age when most women were married. Perhaps, he thought, Hetephernebti was wrong about the girl not truly wanting a life of temple devotions.
Hearing them enter, Inetkawes looked up from her work. She smiled at Hetephernebti and then looked at Djoser.
As their eyes met a veil of shyness dropped over her face while at the same time the happiness that shone from her eyes took on an edge of hunger. Her smile widened and unconsciously she wet her lips.
With his own eyes locked on her Djoser felt a thrill of anticipation and a stirring that would soon be visible. He realized he was blushing and tried to take his thoughts elsewhere.
Inetkawes saw his unspoken response and dropped her eyes to the table, a sm
all smile stealing across her face.
With a suddenly husky voice she said, “I thought you might like a snack while you talked.”
Hetephernebti, who had seen the way Djoser and Inetkawes looked at each other, shook her head as she stifled a laugh. She said, “Would you like to join us, Inetkawes?”
“Yes, dear mother,” she answered. “I want to hear everything our guest has to say, but I can wait for another time.” She turned to Djoser, her eyes now showing only welcome and friendship. I hope Lord Hemwy will find time to talk with me before he leaves.”
“I’m sure he will,” Hetephernebti said, unable to keep her amusement from her voice.
Djoser nodded agreement. “Yes, Inetkawes, I look forward to talking with you.”
Inetkawes smiled and, turning, she skipped from the room.
Djoser watched her until she disappeared from sight and then turning he saw his sister holding her hand over her mouth.
“What?” he said.
She laughed a moment longer and then said, “I’d forgotten how open your face is. You looked as if you were about to take her here on the table.”
“I did not,” Djoser protested, and then he started to laugh as well. “Yes, sister, your daughter is beautiful and a man would be,” he paused as he searched for the right word, “blessed to have her as a companion, but, well, she is my niece.”
As Hetephernebti fell silent, Djoser saw the change in her expression and repeated the phrase, turning it into a question, “She is my niece, isn’t she?”
Hetephernebti shrugged her shoulders and said, “We have much to talk about, dear brother.”
***
Hetephernebti told Djoser about their mother’s death and her hurried marriage to Nebka. Hesitant at first and then, falling into the comfortable openness of their childhood, she told him how Nebka assaulted her and how Kheti had led her to General Babaef’s house where she discovered that the king and the general were lovers. She told him that Babaef and Nebka had conspired to steal the throne from him and she told him of her flight and how the soldiers had overtaken her and Ipwet in the delta.