by Max Overton
Queen Tausret waited for her husband in the shade of a large linen umbrella, a nurse standing beside her with the young prince Seti-Merenptah in her arms. She smiled at the crowd gathered on the docks as the royal barge eased toward the wharf, warmed by the love the common people had for their king.
The river lapped high against the upper flood docks, the strong current gripping the hull of the barge and threatening to pluck it away despite the efforts of the oarsmen. Sailors leapt for the wharf as the barge nosed in and gently bumped against thick reed mats hung over the edge, ropes being quickly wound around bollards and tied off. A painted gangplank was put into place and held in place by slaves, while everyone's attention turned to the barge, awaiting the appearance of the king.
He appeared on the deck, under the awning, in company with the barge captain, and a great shout of joy went up, startling wildfowl in the nearby reed beds. The thunder of their wings and their honks of alarm swelled the uproar as Seti moved slowly toward the gangplank, but the noise died away to a muttered rumble. For some reason, the barge captain remained close to the king, almost too close to be proper, given his station. In fact, he almost appeared to be supporting the king.
Seti lifted his right arm as a salute to the people of Men-nefer and the cheering swelled again, but then he stumbled and a gasp of horror erupted as the barge captain openly laid hands on the king, holding him up. The captain spoke to a sailor nearby and the man leapt ashore and raced to the waiting Tjaty, dropping to his knees and talking rapidly.
Tjaty Hori whirled and beckoned to the court physician, who looked startled and then moved toward the barge, his assistants in his wake. Hori, Chancellor Bay and two royal butlers followed. They boarded the barge and clustered around the king.
The court physician, Re-Usey, gasped in dismay when he saw the king's swollen, fevered arm. "Son of Re, we must treat that immediately. Lie down that I might minister to you."
"What, and appear weak before the people? I will walk to the palace and then you may apply your remedies." Seti swayed where he stood, and sweat broke out on his brow. "Perhaps...perhaps a chair," he muttered.
Chancellor Bay immediately ordered one of the royal butlers to find a chair to convey the king, and sent the other to tell Queen Tausret about the king's condition. "Make sure she realises that there is nothing she can do down here. She must appear strong and unconcerned, and have the palace ready for the king."
Hori called for the guards and started them clearing a path through the streets for the passage of the king's chair, and when that conveyance arrived, made sure Seti was ensconced in it securely before ordering it up to the palace as fast as the bearers could carry it. The people still cheered as the king passed by, but their cries were now of joy alloyed with concern, and rumours multiplied in his wake.
Seti collapsed in his seat as his bearers approached the palace and they hurriedly set the chair down to prevent him toppling from it. Re-Usey supervised his assistants carrying the king into the shaded palace and along deserted corridors to the king's inner chamber. Bay had ordered the palace staff away, and Tausret waited in the bedchamber, her face pale with dismay and taut with worry.
"Will he be all right?" she demanded of Re-Usey as his assistants laid him gently on the bed.
"With respect, Great Lady, I cannot tell until I have examined him."
"Then do so, physician, and tell me what you need and it shall be sent for."
"I have what I need, but have the room cleared."
"I have sent for the priests of Heka, Serket, Sekhmet and Ta-Bitjet," Bay said. He started ushering people from the room and uttered a string of commands to the guards by the door. "Admit no one save by my permission," he told them.
Re-Usey leaned over Seti and cut back the sleeve of his tunic with a sharp knife. The king moaned as the knife slid between the fabric and his tightly swollen arm, and cried out as it was freed of its constraints. One of the assistants murmured and pointed, and the physician leaned closer, wrinkling his nostrils at the stench that arose from the suppurating wound.
"There is a demon in the king's arm," Re-Usey declared.
"Can you get rid of it?" Bay asked.
"That is a matter for the priests," the physician replied. "They will have to say prayers and if they write the prayers on papyrus, I can bind them to the arm."
"His arm has been wounded," Tausret pointed out. "How did that happen?"
"Does it matter?" Hori asked. "The demon gained access to the wound, but why should it matter how?"
"His brother stabbed him with a knife he had been using to cut meat," Bay said. "The knife slashed his arm and also wounded his chest. That injury healed, but his arm has not."
"Is it not strange that the demon would enter the arm wound instead of the chest wound?" Tausret asked. "If it had entered the chest, the king would probably have died by now."
Hori shrugged. "Who can understand the ways of a demon?"
The priests arrived and immediately ranged themselves around the king's bed and started their prayers, intoning incantations while their acolytes erected small shrines and burned incense. Other acolytes started inscribing prayers onto papyrus. Meanwhile, Tausret knelt beside her husband and closely examined the wound on Seti's arm. She wrinkled her nose at the stink and delicately touched the hot and swollen flesh with a fingertip, probing around the ugly gash that wept pus.
"Re-Usey, what is pus? Why is it here?"
The court physician pursed his lips and frowned. If anyone else had asked he would have given a sharp answer, but that was not advisable with the queen.
"It is thought that the body produces it, Great Lady. We know the brain produces mucus to wash away dust from the nose and throat, and it would seem that it also produces pus in wounds, though exactly why, we cannot tell."
"To wash something away?" Hori hazarded.
"But what?" Re-Usey countered. "And why only some wounds?"
"Could it be that the demon brings it?" Tausret asked. "If there is no pus in the chest wound where the demon did not enter, but there is in the arm wound where the demon did enter, then it seems likely the pus is a result of the demon's presence."
"It is hard to argue with your logic," Bay commented.
"It is possible," Re-Usey allowed. "And it is likely that when we expel the demon, the pus will leave also."
"What if we removed the pus ourselves?" Tausret asked. She picked up a cloth and gently wiped the wound, drawing blood-tinged pus away. "Could we remove the pus and thereby drive the demon out?"
"That is back to front," the physician said. "It would disturb ma'at to go contrary to accepted wisdom."
"On the other hand, the demon is killing the king," Bay said. "How would it hurt to try such a procedure?"
"I...I cannot recommend it," Re-Usey said.
"I will take responsibility," Tausret said. She wiped the wound again and Seti moaned at the touch. "Look. His arm is especially swollen just here above the wound, with the hot skin drawn tight as a drum. It is as if the demon or its pus sits right underneath." Tausret stopped her wiping and stared at her husband's arm for several minutes while the droning incantations of the priests continued, and the clouds on incense grew thicker.
"Hand me a sharp knife, Re-Usey."
The physician looked at Hori and Bay, making no move to obey the queen.
"Why do you want a knife, Great Lady?" Bay asked.
"Is it not obvious? The demon must be excised."
"That...that is a very dangerous action, Great Lady," Re-Usey protested. "We should allow the gods to act through the prayers of the priests."
"Will that work?" Tausret demanded. When the physician did not reply, she asked again, adding, "Have you known it to work?"
"On occasion, Great Lady." Re-Usey hesitated and then admitted, "Seldom when the wound is this bad."
"Then we must take the risk, I must take the risk. Give me the knife."
Re-Usey looked at Hori and Bay again, but this time they just shrugg
ed. He took a sharp copper knife from his bag of instruments and handed it to Tausret. She examined the blade and tested it with her thumb.
"This is going to hurt the king," she said. "You must hold him down."
"Lay hands on the king?" Hori gasped in dismay. "I cannot."
"You must." Tausret waited until the two officials and the physician's assistants had overcome their scruples and grasped the king's limbs firmly and then touched the swollen arm gently, the knife poised above the inflamed flesh.
"Forgive me, husband," Tausret murmured, and drew the sharp copper blade across the taut skin, piercing deep into the arm. Blood and pus fountained up, spattering Tausret's face and arms, as Seti surged up, fighting the grip of the men holding him and uttering a great inchoate cry. The men forced him down again and he struggled weakly before collapsing.
"Is...is he dead?" one of the assistant's asked.
"No, but while he is unconscious, let us clean away this filth of the demon's presence." Tausret wiped down the king's arm, using cloth after cloth as the blood-streaked pus flowed and then slowed, bright blood alone taking its place. The flesh of the arm remained hot and red, but was not as swollen as before, and when the queen pressed her fingers into the wound, it was mostly blood that issued forth.
The physician called for water and drew the queen aside gently, motioning his assistants forward. "Leave him, Great Lady, and we will clean him and bandage his wounds."
Tausret allowed herself to be drawn away. "Wash every trace of pus from his wounds, Re-Usey," she said. "For I believe the demon resides in such filth. You saw how it leapt out of his arm when the knife pierced it. When the wounds are clean, then bind them with clean cloths and apply the prayers as the priests desire. We have done what we can, and it is now in the hands of the gods."
* * *
Userkheperure Seti lay as if dead for three days, while the city and an ever-expanding circle of the country wailed the loss of their young king, uttering lamentations and offering sacrifices to the healing gods. Tausret stayed by her husband's side, wiping away his sweat with river-cooled water and washing the wounds afresh twice a day. After the second day, there was no sign of pus and the priests ventured the hope that their prayers had driven the demon from the king's flesh.
On the fourth day, Seti stirred and groaned, his eyelids fluttering open, and he stared at the face of his wife. He whispered through dry, cracked lips and Tausret bent close to listen, but could make no sense of the words.
"Bring watered wine mixed with honey," she ordered, and when it was brought, spooned tiny amounts into Seti's mouth, massaging his throat gently until he swallowed.
Life returned to the king's eyes, and he managed a weak smile. "I saw the gods," he whispered. "While I lay here, my Ba journeyed to the Land of the Dead and spoke with the gods."
"Rest now, my love," Tausret said.
"They said it was not my time and I saw myself old on the throne and my son reigning after me..."
"Hush," Tausret admonished. "Sleep now and gather your strength."
Seti slept, and when he awoke he said he could remember nothing of what he had said. Tausret remembered, and in the days ahead it gave her comfort to believe the gods still looked favourably on the House of Ramesses.
The second wound, the one Tausret had inflicted with the sharp copper knife, healed quickly, the flood of released blood apparently having washed the cut flesh clean of all traces of the demon. Red fragments of flesh still clung to the original wound though, and gave the king considerable pain. He set such ills aside and insisted on standing at the Window of Appearance in the palace where he could be seen by the gathered multitudes.
He dressed with care in the finest raiments, adorned with an inlaid pectoral and golden arm bands. The double crown, coupled with this gaunt face, gave him the appearance of aged wisdom and many older men whose memory stretched back that far, said he resembled the old king, Usermaatre. Seti was careful not to move his left arm, keeping it hanging by his side and covered with a loose-fitting tunic, but he waved with his right hand and made signs of blessing with it, smiling as the cheering of his people washed over him.
When Queen Tausret appeared beside the king, holding the infant Prince Seti-Merenptah in her arms, the noise of the population of Men-nefer rose until the royal couple could hardly hear themselves speak. Tausret waved and smiled, and held up the Prince, until Seti leaned against her, pain showing in his face.
He leaned close and whispered, "I am sick, my love."
Tausret beckoned to Chancellor Bay and had him make an announcement from the Window, telling him what to say as she drew the king back into the room.
Bay held his hands up for quiet, and when the sound had fallen away sufficiently, spoke. "People of Men-nefer, rejoice that your King Userkheperure and Queen Tausret are here, and that the young Prince Seti-Merenptah is healthy. The king bids you finish your tasks and duties of the day without complaint, and he will order prime cattle slaughtered so that you may feast and celebrate tonight. May Userkheperure Seti, Son of Re, Lord of the Two Lands and High Priest of Every God rule us all for a thousand years."
The physicians were called again, and the priests. They discussed treatments, this amulet or that prayer, such-and-such a dung or plant juice or packing in honey, and in the end the Hem-netjer of Set offered a treatment that appealed to their sense of rightness.
"Our land of Kemet is a land in balance, red land and black land, as we all know. Kemet however is angered by the war waged between brothers that disturbs such a natural balance," the priest of Set said. "If the red wound inflicted on the younger brother by the older is ever to heal, it must draw strength and healing from the rich black soil of the land. The blackness of the soil will balance the redness of the angry flesh and bring healing Ma'at to the king's body. I say let the king's wound be packed with the good black earth of Kemet and bound tightly, while prayers are once more offered up to the gods."
And for a time, the treatment seemed to work.
Chapter 48
Userkheperure Seti speaks:
It is no use complaining. The gods have spoken and though I do not like what they have to say, I must bend to their will. My brother Messuwy's hand has reached out over months and across the length of the Iteru to strike me down. The knife he wielded has let in a poison which works its way ever deeper into my body despite the efforts of my wife, the court physician and a whole bevy of priests. They tell me what they want to believe, that I am a young king with many years still ahead of me, but I know differently, for the gods spoke to me as I lay sleeping in my fever.
It was the strangest thing.
I have never fully understood the many components that make up a man, but as I understand it, the Ib is my heart and is where my will and emotions lie, my Sheut or shadow is that part of me cast by the light of Re, the Ren is my name bound about by the rope-like protective Shenu, the Ba is the part of me that makes me who I am, the Ka is the spirit that energises my body. Now the Khat is my physical body and when I die the Ba and Ka unite to reanimate my Akh, which I suppose is the magical non-physical counterpart of my Khat. At least, that is what the priests tell us.
Anyway, my Khat lay on the bed, administered by my beloved wife, by the priests and court physician, while I hovered above, near the ceiling of the bedchamber, looking down on them. I remember thinking that the priest of Sekhmet had had his scalp cut while it was being shaved, for I could see a tiny trickle of dried blood where others could not see. What part of me hovered there I do not know, but I think it was my Ba, for the Ka supposedly only leaves when the ceremony of the opening of the mouth is performed. That did not happen, so it must have been my Ba alone that rose up.
I drifted through the ceiling as if through wide portals, or as if I was no more than smoke, and nobody remarked on my passing. I saw the palace and the city pass beneath me, and then suddenly I was walking on springy green turf and the air was cool and moist upon my skin though the face of Re still smote my head
and shoulders. I walked for a time alone, and then others were with me, though I did not see them arrive.
"Welcome Userkheperure Seti," spoke a voice beside me.
I turned to look at the speaker and saw a tall man clad in rich raiments and gold, and his beautiful face shone with holiness, by which I understood him to be Ptah of the Beautiful Face. Around him were arrayed other beings, noble of bearing, and I recognised Re and Heru, and Amun and Tefnut. I would have fallen to my knees in worship, but Ptah shook his head.
"That is not why you are here, Userkheperure," he said.
"Why then am I here, Lord of Truth?" I asked. "Am I truly dead?"
"Not yet." He pointed to where a thin silver cord trailed behind me. "While the cord remains, your Khat remains alive."
"Then I am soon to die?"
Ptah nodded, and then added. "But not yet. Return to your body and to your wife and son. Enjoy them while you may, for your time is short, Userkheperure."
"What will happen, Lord of Truth? What does the future hold?"
"That is not for man to know. Kemet will endure."
"What of my son, Seti-Merenptah?"
"Kemet will endure."
With that, I felt myself falling and within moments felt my eyelids open and the lovely face of my Tausret swam into view.
"I saw the gods," I whispered. "I journeyed to the Land of the Dead and spoke with the gods."
"Rest now, my love," Tausret said.
I opened my mouth to tell her what Ptah had said, that I was to die shortly, but decided I could not visit that upon her. Besides, it might all have been a dream, for what man can truly know the future? So I lied.
"They said it was not my time and I saw myself old on the throne and my son reigning after me..."
"Hush," Tausret admonished. "Sleep now and gather your strength."
I slept, and when I woke I feigned ignorance of what I had said before. For a time, I lay in my bed thinking, and then I decided the word 'soon' meant different things for gods and men. Like Kemet, the gods endure while men live their brief lives and pass away, so to the gods the fact that I would die soon could mean a day, a year, or fifty years. However long it was, it was wasted if I lay in bed waiting for death, so I got up.