The Lost Scroll of the Physician

by Alisha Sevigny

  “Does Your Holiness think it may help if you had someone who knows exactly what the scroll looks like?” I venture, mind racing. “I worked closely with my father and accompanied him to the temple many times.”

  That in itself is true.

  “Are you saying you would know the document we speak of upon sight?” Wujat stops pacing and turns to face me, crossing his long arms.

  “Yes.” That part is not. “If you would allow me, I could go to the temple and resume my studies where Father left off. I could talk to the other scribes and be your eyes and ears. I can find the scroll, I swear it.”

  Wujat says nothing, bringing his hands behind his back in a formal stance. “I will speak of this to Pharaoh,” he says, after what feels like eternity.

  If Pharaoh does indeed have anything to do with the fire, I am not so sure how well this will work in my favour.

  “Does Your Grace think this is necessary?” I say, a month in the sands having increased my daring, as well as my apparent capacity for intrigue. “After all, you said yourself, Pharaoh is most fond of surprises. What if you were to return the scroll to him after he thought it lost forever? I’m sure he would be most generous with his appreciation.”

  Wujat thinks for a moment. “That is an interesting thought.”

  Ahmes clears his throat. The physician is standing beside my brother and Anubis, the trio quietly observing our back and forth. “And what of Ky?” he asks. “Will he join Sesha at the temple?”

  Ky looks depressed at the thought and I hide a smile. He does not love his studies as much as I do, finding them boring and tedious.

  “If it pleases the pharaoh, I’m sure Ky is most anxious to resume his friendship with Tutan. Perhaps he can help tutor the young prince?” I say.

  Ky brightens and Ahmes also smiles. “I could also use someone around here to assist me in a few matters. Would you be interested, Ky?” I shoot him a meaningful look, which he does not miss. I can search the temple and Ky can be the eyes and ears here in the palace.

  “Thank you for the honour, Ahmes.” Ky bows.

  The door swings open. “Ky!” yells a familiar voice.

  “Tutan!” The two friends race toward each other, embracing like long-lost brothers.

  Tutan pulls back, face looking like he’s just smelled something very bad. Which he has. “You smell like a rotting donkey’s corpse in the heat of the midday sun.”

  Ky grins. “Sorry, Tutu. I have not had the opportunity to bathe in such fine perfumes as yourself, this past moon.”

  “You have certainly been bathing in something,” Wujat murmurs, waving his hand in front of his face.

  “Come, friend, let us get you clean.” Tutan gestures with the practised imperiousness of one who is destined to be king.

  Ky looks to us and Wujat nods his dismissal. “Come, Anubis,” he says to the dog, who obliges, following him out the door.

  “Where did you find this ugly beast?” I hear Tutan ask as they depart. Ky murmurs something in response, voice echoing down the hallway.

  Wujat turns to me. “Sesha, I have decided to bring the matter of your … studies before Pharaoh.” I gulp. So much for surprises. “Eat now, and join us in the great chamber when you are finished. We will be waiting.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Wujat nods at Ahmes and leaves us.

  “Thank you for offering to take Ky under your care,” I say to him, going to sit at the table where Ky ate. The delicious smells wafting under my nostrils have my mouth watering and I tear into the bread, suddenly ravenous.

  “It is not purely unselfish. I do need help around here.” He pauses and I sense there is something else he wants to say. Trying not to inhale the bread in one swallow, I wait. “Your father was my teacher. He was a brilliant man and I respected him very much. I would like to do what I can for his children.”

  The bread forms into a hard lump in my throat and it is all I can do to try to choke it down. Ahmes must sense my emotions because he turns, busying himself with cleaning his instruments. “Your brother has a condition, yes? An excess of fluid inside his skull?”

  The cup pauses at my lips. “How do you know this?”

  “Your father spoke of it to me.”

  “Why?” I am as blunt as the tool he is storing in its casing.

  “He wanted my opinion on whether he could be cured.”

  “And?” My food is forgotten.

  Ahmes remains silent. Then, turns to me. “I don’t know.” Now I am silent. “That document which you seek,” he says, “it is of my opinion that it holds Ky’s best chance.”

  A thought occurs to me. “Ahmes, will you do the surgery?” He looks surprised at my question. “If we find the scroll, can you save Ky?”

  “It will be extremely dangerous,” he says.

  “You said you respected my father and that he was a brilliant man. You agree with his theory that the scroll could somehow aid in the operation.” At least I hope that’s what he believed. “I know he would do it himself if not for his …” I gesture, unable still to say the word. Once uttered, it will become irreversible. “You also said you wanted to do what you could for his children. You can do this.” I hold his gaze, voice impassioned.

  Ahmes sighs. “You should assist Pharaoh with his speech-making, Sesha.”

  “Does this mean you will help us?”

  “Very well.” He nods. “As long as you are aware of the risks.”

  “Thank you,” I breathe. “You are a good man, Ahmes.”

  “And you are much too thin. Finish your dinner,” he says, with a pointed look at my plate. “You will need physical as well as mental strength if you are to be attending school. The hours are long and some of your fellow scribes may not be so pleased to have a girl studying alongside them. Nor some of your teachers, for that matter.”

  “Will they hate me?” I ask, all at once uncertain. I had completed most of my training at home with Father. And when I did attend temple, he was always with me.

  “Let us hope they will judge you justly, based on your own merits,” Ahmes says.

  “By who else’s merits would they judge me?” I say, puzzled. “Father’s?”

  Ahmes looks directly into my eyes. “How much do you know of your father’s life at temple before he came to work for the pharaoh as his Chief Physician?”

  I shift under his piercing stare. “I know he was brilliant, as you said. That he was a great teacher and doctor, as well as head scribe for a time before he was called to care for the royal family.” Father had implemented several changes at the school, reforming many of the temple’s teachings in regards to medicine. While much emphasis had always been placed on proper spells and incantations for healing, the discovery of the scroll had further inspired him to equally value rational observations and scientific principles. After my father used information contained in the papyrus to cure Pharaoh’s top military general of a severe injury, one which the gods could not help, Pharaoh had also been motivated to embrace these changes and brought him into the palace as Royal Physician.

  “Your father was much favoured by the king,” Ahmes walks to the door. “There will always be men who are jealous when the stars illuminating their paths shine not as bright.”

  The idea that Father was not beloved by all does not fit with my image of him. Then again, there is the small matter of his death. I suppose he could not have been popular with every soul.

  Before I can ask Ahmes to explain further, he takes his leave. “You will have at least one friendly face at the temple,” he says. “I teach there once a week. And make no mistake, my expectations for you are high.”

  “That is if Wujat can convince Pharaoh to let me attend in the first place,” I say, just as a servant walks up to the doorway.

  Bowing before Ahmes, he looks directly at me. “Pharaoh requests that you join him in the main chambers.”

  I get to my feet. It appears I am about to find out either way.

  6

  WE
WALK DOWN THE gleaming hallways and I am thankful for our echoing footsteps, which cover the thudding of my heart. I must convince the pharaoh it is in his interests for me to join the other scribes at temple. There I will be free to search for the scroll. I am more certain than ever that the document is my best chance for saving Ky and finding out what happened to my parents. Thoughts swirl around my head and before long we stand before the entrance to the grand hall. I catch a reflection of my snarled strands in the polished marble and sigh, the breath sparking a smouldering ember of vanity a month of rough living has not entirely snuffed out.

  Just then, Merat exits from a doorway and glides toward us, a servant scurrying behind her.

  “Sesha, there you are” — she nods — “I have summoned Nebet to attend to you.”

  “But she is wanted before the pharaoh, Princess,” the servant escorting me says. I look to Merat.

  “I will occupy my father for a few moments. Go,” she commands and turns to enter the grand hall, my thwarted escort following meekly behind. One does not argue with a princess.

  I follow Nebet over to a nook in the corridor. There is a window and light streams in, illuminating the wizened woman’s face. She sighs and shakes her head, walking around me, muttering to herself.

  “Where have you been sleeping, child, with the beasts?” She sniffs me, as if searching for further proof. Taking a small bag off her shoulder, she digs out various lotions and potions, setting them on the sill. Reaching in further, she pulls out a wooden comb sporting a myriad of vicious teeth. Pouring scented oil from one of the bottles into her hands, she rubs them together, coating my tresses with the pleasant-smelling fragrance of almonds. Tears fill my eyes. My mother loved rubbing almond and safflower oils into our skin, and would massage both Ky and me with them when we were younger, to ease us into sleep.

  “Why are you crying, child? I have seen worse.” Nebet picks up the comb and stands back, calculating her plan of attack.

  “I miss my mother.” I’m not sure whether it is her maternal ministrations or the fact that someone is caring for me in some small way that leaves me feeling vulnerable, blurting out my heart’s sorrow to an almost-stranger.

  She clucks her tongue again, matter-of-fact. “Our mothers never leave us. The love she bore you has suffused itself into every pore of your body since the day you were born. Feel it in your bones and blood and remember her often. Now.” She comes at me with the comb. “Brace yourself.”

  Blinking back fresh tears, these ones from Nebet’s yanks and tugs, I pinch my cheeks and straighten my robes.

  “That is as good as we are going to get in such a short time.” Grabbing my hands, she inspects the torn fingernails and calloused palms. “Come see me later and I will finish what I started. For now, you are presentable enough.”

  She gestures to my escort who has remained waiting outside the grand hall and he nods, opening the large door before me. Taking a deep breath, I follow him into the room. We go unnoticed by the pharaoh; he is deep in counsel with Wujat. Merat is talking to Queen Anat. Other familiar faces dot the room. Men and women of the court and servants mill about, attending to the needs of the Sun God’s representative on earth and his family. People are eating and drinking while royal musicians play their instruments, providing a backdrop to the overall hum of the room.

  Merat catches my eye and gives a small nod; my confidence is bolstered by her unexpected, but welcome, support.

  “Sesha!” Queen Anat exclaims. “That is much better; you look almost human again. You were quite feral earlier, my dear.” Luminous stones hang from her headdress, her hair and makeup exquisite. As Great Royal Wife she must appear beautiful and immaculate at all times, even on just an average day at court.

  “Thank you, My Queen.” I bow low. She claps, and another servant appears with a tray. Even though I just ate, my mouth waters at the aromas wafting from the extravagant dishes set before her.

  “Sesha.” Pharaoh’s voice booms, startling me out of my drooling stupor. “Wujat has informed me that you wish to attend temple, to study with the other scribes.”

  “Yes, My King.” I swallow. “My father was training me to become a doctor, like him. I have spent most of my thirteen years learning the medical arts.”

  “Is that so?” Pharaoh asks, surprised. “I find it most curious that a lady such as yourself would be interested in such a gruesome occupation. Wouldn’t you rather be one of the singers at temple with the rest of the young girls? Or a handmaiden to one of the princesses?”

  I hesitate, not sure how receptive Pharaoh is to the idea of a woman doing a job reserved primarily for men. While not unheard of, it is not so common for females to become doctors.

  “I have a talent for healing, Your Highness,” I finally say. “At least that is what my parents used to tell me.” Though I know it in my heart to be true. There are many times I would aid Father with his patients and in their diagnosis and treatments. I also attended births with him as midwife. It seemed to put the women at ease. Countless times my small hands were able to manipulate areas that Father’s were not during the precarious nature of childbirth, where the unexpected could, and often did, happen. Looking at the royals, I summon my most winning smile, inwardly praising Nebet and her pots and combs. “Besides, my liege, I fear the gods would be most appalled at my singing voice.”

  Wujat chortles and Queen Anat raises a thick charcoal brow. “Come now, Husband,” she chides, lifting her goblet in a sweeping gesture. “What of the great physician Peseshet? She was much respected, overseeing an entire body of female doctors. They advanced much in the way of birthing and children.” She takes a drink of her wine, the servant instantly at her side to refill her glass, which she permits.

  “Of course, you are right, my goddess.” Pharaoh’s voice is soothing. “I did not mean to suggest Sesha is incapable because she is a girl. Only that she might enjoy more … lighthearted pursuits.”

  “Nothing would make me happier than continuing my studies, if it pleases Your Highness,” I say, as firmly as I dare. Along with finding the scroll. I contemplate how to broach the subject, but thankfully Wujat comes to my aid.

  “Sesha mentions she is familiar with the document her father was working on before his … accident.” The Grand Vizier turns his body, speaking so only Pharaoh and Queen Anat can hear, but I, too, am able to make out his words. “It would be helpful to have a pair of eyes and ears in the temple for the express purpose of seeking it out. I have no reason to believe any of the other scribes are actively keeping it hidden, but one does have to wonder at its stubborn refusal to be found.”

  “You will know what to look for, Sesha?” Pharaoh asks, finally taking his eyes off his stunning queen.

  “Yes, My King.” I do not mention that I have never seen the document up close.

  “That is good.” His tone is serious. “It is of utmost importance that the scroll be found immediately.”

  “But why?” I blurt out before I can stop myself, then lower my eyes. “Forgive my impertinence.”

  “It is all right, Sesha, I have several daughters” — Pharaoh’s tone is dry — “and more than a few wives. Though none as fine as the Great Royal One, of course.” He nods at Queen Anat, who graciously inclines her head to him to acknowledge his compliment.

  “Wujat mentioned it may have been written by the Great Imhotep?” I say, tentative.

  “Yes. A document of not only untold historical importance, but with immeasurable practical value, as well.”

  “The scroll we seek is reputed to be a most comprehensive manual of military surgery,” Wujat says, steepling his fingers. “We have reason to believe it documents a variety of injuries received in combat. Fractures, wounds, dislocations; it could be of incredible value to the upcoming campaign.”

  “Campaign?” The hum of the room seems to quiet; the music lessens and time slows as the pharaoh looks from Queen Anat, to Wujat, to me.

  As if making up his mind about something, he clears his
throat and lowers his voice. “The scroll is our best chance of mitigating the ill effects any battles might have on our people. Sources tell us there is an invasion coming, Sesha. We may be going to war.”

  7

  WAR.

  I shiver. Thebes holds an uneasy truce with the Hyksos at Avaris. The foreign rulers had taken over the north delta and flourished there these past years. Some, like my father, see the benefit in trading with them and learning new skills and technologies. Yet there are many Egyptians who feel that they should be eradicated from our lands. The simmering tension has always been there, just waiting to bubble over like a pot left too long on the fire. Perhaps that time is now upon us.

  “Your skills will be much needed, as well,” Pharaoh continues. “Especially if you are anything like your father.”

  “I have heard from the women she has great talent as a midwife,” Queen Anat says. She waves her goblet at the musicians and they pick up tempo, the hum restoring to the room.

  “It is decided, then.” Pharaoh stands, as do the the others. “Sesha will attend temple with the other scribes and continue her training.” Lowering his voice, he looks at me. “She will also be our agent in seeking out the missing scroll. Can you do that for us, my child?”

  “I would be honoured, my lord.” Relief at accomplishing the first part of my task whisks the dread of imagined battles from my body, though it is laced with uncertainty about my new status as, essentially, a spy for the pharaoh. However, I am now one step closer to saving Ky and discovering the truth behind my parents’ “accident,” as Wujat calls it.

  “Good. I pray to the gods you do not fail us,” Pharaoh says. The hint of or else hangs between us and I gulp down some much-needed air, having neglected to breathe these past few minutes.

  Bowing low, I retreat from the trio, feeling like I’ve been dismissed.

  Merat appears by my side, leading me out of the main room. “You will live in the handmaidens’ quarters. They are by no means luxurious, but they’re clean and quite comfortable.”