The Forest of Myrrh (Imhotep Book 3)

by Jerry Dubs

  He remembered now some of the photographs he had seen in travel books of Pharaoh Hatshepsut’s mortuary temple. There was an entire wall given over to descriptions of this trip. And one of the drawings had shown the approaching queen in profile, her legs and arms covered with sagging bags of flesh, her behind so huge and protruding that her torso seemed little more than a counterbalance.

  He remembered Addy, her finger lightly touching the photograph. “Poor woman, she must be so brave,” she had said.

  Imhotep blinked again and touched his eyes delicately to absorb the tears that had started to form at the memory of his long-lost fiancee. Glancing at his fingers, gratified to see that they were not smeared with kohl, he straightened his shoulders and smiled at the approaching king.

  The native warriors stopped twenty feet away and spread to the left and right, forming a line parallel to the line of soldiers from the Two Lands.

  Imhotep saw that, although they were armed with heavy spears, the knives that were tucked into their kilt belts were made of stone. He had seen the soldiers from the Two Lands train more than a thousand years ago when King Djoser ruled. And he had seen his own grandson practice with other charioteers.

  He doubted if these warriors would be a match for the soldiers of the Two Lands and he thought again of the Aztecs and Incas fighting against the Spanish invaders. His mind occupied, it took him a moment to realize that the king and queen had stepped forward between the lines of warriors.

  Imhotep thought briefly of kneeling and then remembered that he was representing Pharaoh Hatshepsut who considered herself a god.

  For an uncomfortable moment King Parahu and Imhotep stared at each other, then Queen Ati broke the silence. She spoke briefly, but in words he didn’t understand.

  “I am sorry,” Imhotep said, then turned his head to look for the man who had translated for them in the village.

  “You are from the Two Lands!” Queen Ati said, recognizing his language. She turned and spoke to her husband. He stared at Imhotep and then at the ships that lay in the lake. The king spoke to Imhotep in his language and then Queen Ati translated for him.

  “How have you reached this land?” she asked. “Have you descended by the paths of the sky?”

  Imhotep started to shake his head, then he reminded himself that he was representing a god. So he bowed his head and answered vaguely, “We have traveled very far because pharaoh wanted to visit this land, which we call Ta Netjer.”

  “Ta Netjer,” Queen Ati repeated, then she translated for her husband.

  His eyes opened wider and then he smiled and turned to Imhotep. “Ta Netjer,” he said.

  “Yes,” Imhotep said. Then he realized that he didn’t know their names.

  “I am called Imhotep,” he said. “My ruler is Ma’at-Ka-Re, Foremost of Noble Ladies, Divine of Appearance, She of the Two Ladies, Pharaoh Hatshepsut.”

  “I am Queen Ati,” she said in response, a slight smile tugging at her mouth. “And my husband, Great of Pwenet, is called King Parahu.”

  “We have brought gifts from the Two Lands,” Imhotep said, tilting his head toward the pier.

  “And we have gifts for you, as well. And we will have a great feast and we will tell each other stories of our lands and you will tell us of your travels,” Queen Ati said.

  She took a step forward and, without planning it, Imhotep knelt.

  She cocked her head at him and then looked beyond him to the pier. “But first, let us welcome your queen of many names.”

  Feast

  “The beer is excellent,” Admiral Ahmose told King Parahu as he set an empty wooden cup on the rough table.

  The king smiled at the tone of the incomprehensible words, then looked to Cheti, a young man who sat with them and served as translator. The king nodded agreement as Cheti translated and then raised an eyebrow in question.

  Imhotep, seated on the far side of the king, leaned backward and said, “Admiral Ahmose, This is the beer that we brought with us from Waset.” Then he lightly touched Cheti’s arm and said, “You don’t need to translate that.”

  Ahmose leaned close to Cheti. “Could you tell him that you mistranslated, that I said the meat was excellent?” Cheti smiled and nodded. “What is the meat?” Ahmose added as an afterthought.

  “Goat liver,” Cheti said, pointing to a platter of dark meat. “And that is monkey brains,” he said, nodding toward a bowl that Ahmose hadn’t tried yet.

  Feeling his stomach turn, Ahmose stared at the bowl. Then he heard Imhotep laugh. He looked at Imhotep, who raised his eyebrows and nodded toward Cheti who was holding a hand over his mouth.

  “I think he is making a joke,” Imhotep said with a grin.

  “It is torn bread with honey,” Cheti said, then he turned to King Parahu and spoke rapidly.

  King Parahu stared back at the young man and then looked at Imhotep and Ahmose. Seeing them looking amused instead of insulted, King Parahu spoke quickly to Cheti, who said, “I apologize, honored guests. King Parahu wants me to assure you that we are not barbarians who eat monkeys. And I promise to translate faithfully.”

  Imhotep leaned over to the translator and squeezed his shoulder. “You are doing fine, Cheti. Please tell King Parahu that we enjoy a joke.”

  He watched King Parahu as Cheti spoke and then gave him his most carefree smile to reinforce the translator’s words.

  “Well,” Ahmose said, reaching for the bowl of honeyed bread, “I think I’ll try these monkey brains.”

  Across the wide, rough wooden table, which was made of a wide tree trunk split in half and nestled on X-shaped trestles made of branches lashed together, Akila glanced at Imhotep.

  He smiled back and then, rising from the table, he told Cheti, “My back is tired, I need to walk. Please tell King Parahu that I am enjoying myself and will be back soon.”

  He picked up his staff and walked away from the long table that seated King Parahu and his family, Pharaoh Hatshepsut and her entourage and a few elder villagers. Around the table, sitting cross-legged on the ground, the soldiers from the Two Lands took turns eating and serving as guards.

  Imhotep picked his way among them as he headed toward the edge of the settlement.

  “Lord Imhotep,” Captain Djehuty said, emerging from behind a hut.

  “Yes, Djehuty?” Imhotep said, surprised to see the soldier away from the feast.

  “May I escort you?”

  “Escort?”

  “Yes, Lord Imhotep. Admiral Ahmose insists that none of us wander alone in the village.”

  “Imhotep,” Akila called from behind him.

  Imhotep and Djehuty turned.

  “Hello,” Imhotep said, shrugging at her and tilting his head toward Djehuty. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself, Akila. And Pharaoh Hatshepsut and Queen Ati seem to be getting along.”

  Akila smiled and nodded. “Yes, they are both very confident and relaxed. I think they will be good friends.”

  “Captain Djehuty,” Imhotep said, “and I are taking a little walk. I wanted to stretch my legs, I get so stiff after sitting, and Admiral Ahmose insists that we not walk about unescorted.” He turned to Djehuty and said, “I don’t suppose it would count if I promised to escort Lady Akila and she promised to protect me?”

  Before Djehuty could answer, Akila put her hand on Imhotep’s arm and said, “Don’t tease him.”

  Djehuty looked at the silent huts near them and then turned toward the edge of the forest.

  Although it was still afternoon, the forest canopy shaded the undergrowth and darkness among the thick tree trunks seemed to create a living wall. It was, Djehuty realized, similar to the stone forests in the temples of Waset.

  But instead of painted columns, this forest was made of living trees, their trunks wound with vines, their limbs hidden beneath thick foliage. And from the top of the canopy came a constant screech of birds and monkeys instead of the echoed chants of priests. The base of the forest was alien, too. The temple floors were swept and
visible, here the brush hid tangled roots, thorny shrubs and the ground at places swarmed with huge ants.

  The smell was different, too. Instead of the cleansing aroma of incense, the forest smelled of the breath of predators, the stink of dead prey, the waft of huge, flapping leaves and heavy scent of unbelievably colored blossoms.

  Unconsciously, Djehuty stepped back from the forest floor.

  “Please stay here,” he said to Imhotep. “I’ll get some additional men to accompany you.”

  “It is an alien world for them,” Akila told Imhotep as they watched Djehuty walk away.

  Imhotep took her hand and looked into the forest, wondering what it was that frightened Djehuty so much.

  Suddenly there was a screech from something high in the trees and then the sound of wings. Imhotep and Akila both stepped back from the forest wall and then they turned and walked quickly toward the center of the village.

  Their backs to the forest, they didn’t see the huge shadow that rose from a hiding place and disappeared silently into the jungle.

  - 0 -

  The evening sun was hovering just above the tree tops when Ahmose called Djehuty to him.

  “Send for the ships,” he said.

  “Sir?”

  “The ships, we are sleeping on the ships tonight,” Ahmose said. He turned to Imhotep and said, “The soldiers have had a day of relaxing and drinking. They won’t be any good as guards tonight.”

  “I don’t think King Parahu means us any harm,” Imhotep said, glancing at Cheti and shaking his head to let him know that he didn’t need to translate.

  They were standing by the pier with King Parahu, his sons and three of the native warriors.

  “We don’t mean you harm, Lord Imhotep,” Cheti said, then he turned to Parahu and translated what he had just heard and said.

  Ahmose snorted. Leaning close to Imhotep he whispered, “That’s another reason I want to be on the ships. I can’t say anything here with his running off to tell the king.”

  Imhotep nodded and then smiled at Cheti. “I think we’ll be spending the night on the ships,” he told King Parahu and then waited for Cheti to translate. Then he leaned to Ahmose and they exchanged whispers.

  “Tomorrow we’ll build a shelter for Pharaoh Hatshepsut and some more for the men and then we’ll be more comfortable here,” Ahmose said.

  - 0 -

  Standing on a branch high in a tree by the village, Yuya watched the ships come to life on the lake waters and begin a slow approach to the pier. The soldiers and women from the Two Lands were gathered on the edge of the lake. King Parahu and Queen Ati were with them, as were a group of native warriors.

  Yuya’s men were hiding among the trees below him, but there were too many of the enemy and there was too much light and too much ground to cover between the edge of the forest and the beach.

  When he had seen them feasting he had felt confident that the food and beer would lure them to sleep and he and his men could enter the village that night and begin the killing.

  But now they were leaving. He shrugged.

  Tomorrow night. Or the next.

  He was as patient as the giant snake that slept back in his camp.

  Everything Is Possible

  “This is my forest of myrrh,” Queen Ati said the next morning as she, Akila, and Pharaoh Hatshepsut stood at the base of a low plateau at the western edge of the village.

  Pharaoh Hatshepsut’s escort, a squad of soldiers from the Two Lands, and Queen Ati’s bodyguards, a cluster of native warriors, watched from a few feet away, moving their eyes from the three women to the surrounding forest.

  Two days ago a young villager named Matia had gone into the forest to gather wood. She still hadn't returned. A search party had found a dropped bundle of wood, but no sign of the missing woman. When he heard about the incident, Admiral Ahmose put the soldiers on half-beer rations and ordered a guard detail to follow Pharaoh Hatshepsut everywhere.

  Pharaoh Hatshepsut, who continued to wear the blue war crown, also continued to carry the ancient knife that had once belonged to King Djoser. Akila refused to carry a weapon, but over her shoulder she carried a small sack that held her medical kit.

  “Come,” Queen Ati said, turning and leading the women up the short incline to a gap in the line of trees.

  She passed between two trees and turned to wait for Pharaoh Hatshepsut and Akila.

  When the women joined her, they saw that what appeared to be a forest from below was actually a planned grove. Standing with their backs to the gap through which they had entered, they saw that wide pathways led off to the left and right while directly in front of them was a curving wall of myrrh trees.

  Pharaoh Hatshepsut approached the nearest tree. It was almost three times her height, its trunk a mottled brown and muddy yellow. The branches of the tree struck out from above her head at odd, sharp angles, almost as if the tree were waving its limbs in a frenzy. On each side of the mature tree were smaller trees that looked like angry shrubs, their fine limbs a tangle of branches and twigs.

  “Be careful,” Queen Ati said as Pharaoh Hatshepsut started to reach toward the tree. “The thorns are like knives.”

  Gently Pharaoh Hatshepsut touched her finger against the tip of one of the thorns. It was as long as her finger, the base solidly attached to the tree. Testing the point of the thorn, she smiled and then reached past it to touch the peeling, papery bark.

  “Ouch!” she yelped as her bare shoulder brushed against a branch and a droplet of blood appeared. She turned and looked at the offending branch, then carefully found a spot to grasp it and lift it away from her shoulder.

  The branch snapped and the limb slapped at her, driving more thorns into her flesh.

  She stepped back as Akila came to her, unslinging her shoulder bag to retrieve her medical kit.

  “I am sorry,” Queen Ati said, touching Pharaoh Hatshepsut’s arm.

  “No, no, you warned me. I just didn’t expect them to be so solid and sharp,” Pharaoh Hatshepsut said as Akila cleaned her shoulder with an antiseptic wipe. While Akila tended to her, Pharaoh Hatshepsut looked at the wall of trees and shrubs.

  “They protect the treasure,” Pharaoh Hatshepsut said, looking at the dangerous trees.

  Queen Ati nodded.

  “And their limbs,” Pharaoh Hatshepsut said, “They are twisted as if they are in agony.”

  Queen Ati smiled at Pharaoh Hatshepsut. “Exactly! Exactly! To gather the myrrh, our men cut into the tree. It cries, the tree, it cries and the tears dry by the wound. When I was a little girl and first saw them harvest the hardened resin, I thought the same thing, that the trees were splaying their limbs in pain.”

  Pharaoh Hatshepsut stepped back and looked at the line of trees.

  “They are a maze,” Queen Ati said.

  “A maze?” Pharaoh Hatshepsut said.

  “Yes. That is why there are scrub trees between the older trees, to make an impenetrable wall.” She raised a heavy arm, bags of flesh hanging from her elbow and biceps, and pointed down the row of trees. “The trees are planted in a maze to keep them safe.”

  Akila cocked her head at Queen Ati. Before the queen could answer Pharaoh Hatshepsut explained to Akila, “As you know we need myrrh. The gods treasure it. It is more valuable than gold.”

  Queen Ati nodded. “As it should be; the trees weep to part with it.”

  “But the maze?” Akila said.

  “We cannot guard the trees in a building, so we hide them within themselves.” She smiled and looked at the ordered lines of dangerous trees. “The harvesters are divided into groups. Each group knows a part of the maze, not the whole maze. And there is only the one entrance which we guard. If someone slips past the guards, they will be lost in the maze and if they do find their way out, it must be by this entrance, and so they will be captured.”

  “So no one knows the entire maze?” Akila asked.

  Queen Ati laughed. “My daughter does and I do. I played here as a child.
I could hide in here forever, move from one section to the other by secret passageways where the walls are just penetrable. I used to crawl through them.”

  She looked down at her thick legs and pendulous breasts, “I don’t think I could manage that anymore, but when I was a girl I could run though here and never suffer even a scratch.”

  Raising her eyebrows, she said, “I can lead you through part of the maze, if you like.”

  - 0 -

  When the women returned to the village at midday they saw that a new hut had been erected and around it two encircling arcs of tents – the army’s bivouac. While Admiral Ahmose had organized the encampment and, with Captain Djehuty, created a duty roster to ensure that there were enough soldiers awake and sober to protect the expedition, Imhotep, Nehsy, and Ty had met with King Parahu and his advisor, a continually smiling man named Dakka.

  “These are the strangest negotiations I’ve ever heard of,” Imhotep told Akila as they walked along the edge of the lake that afternoon, three ever-present soldiers trailing them.

  “King Parahu doesn’t need or want anything. He has cattle and a wife and he’s content. Dakka, his advisor, is the same way. The only thing they specifically requested was linen. Their wives love the fabric and they don’t grow flax or cotton. And they liked the necklaces, the ones with the blue glass beads, they don’t know how to make them either. And they agreed to accept gold as payment, but only if it is fashioned into a bracelet or ring, they don’t know how to work metal.

  “So basically, we spent the morning trying to find things that King Parahu wants. He is happy to trade directly with us so I think that even Admiral Ahmose will agree that there isn’t any need to conquer anyone.”

  Akila squeezed his hand. “I don’t think Pahroah Hatshepsut would allow it anyhow,” she said. “She and Queen Ati are acting like sisters. They both have this air of command and confidence about them. I don’t know,” Akila said, pausing and looking back toward the village. “I think ... there’s a different set of expectations, maybe it’s just in my head.”