Qa'a (The First Dynasty Book 3)

by Lester Picker

  “Does he know you are an Apep priest?”

  “No. I thought it best that he not know. It would merely complicate matters.”

  “I agree,” Itafe said. “Now we must fill you in on new developments.” I nodded.

  “We have signed a pact with the Ta-Tjehenus to aid us in the coming battle and…”

  “This is not good news, Master. I believe it is a mistake.”

  “Think what you will, but we made the decision since you cannot be part of our counsel, although in fact some of your brothers here also initially advised against it. The truth is that the people needed to see that we would act to protect them.”

  “You will never prevail in battle against the might of Kem’s army,” I cautioned. “Not even with the help of the Ta-Tjehenus.”

  “But what if the Babylonians and Akkadians and Canaanites and Philistines all helped? They and more.”

  “And how is that to happen? We do not have high-level contacts with their leaders.”

  “True, we do not, but Nomti does.” I stopped my response in mid-breath. It took me a moment to recover.

  “Surely you do not think it wise for Nomti to make pacts against his own country.”

  “No, we do not. All we ask is for his advice on who to contact, who will keep these alliances secret, who we can depend on and for what. I know that Nebibi depends on Lebanon for the army’s spear shafts. It might be a simple matter of denying them a steady supply. As we discussed before, Nomti’s involvement must remain secret until the very end.” I could not argue with the logic of Itafe’s words.

  “And what would we offer these foreigners?”

  “Preferential trade contracts. Perhaps reduced tariffs for their caravans. There are many possibilities.”

  “I still do not like it. We appear as traitors to the Two Lands.”

  “We have debated this over and over,” one of my fellow priests said. “The only one we ask for arms are the Ta-Tjehenus, but they would have seized on our weakness due to war anyway and scavenged all they wanted. At least our pact with them allows us some control.”

  “And what have you decided about Khenemet,” I asked, wanting to avoid further conflict.

  “We will not have him killed, if that’s what you mean,” Itafe replied, “at least not immediately. He has too many passionate adherents and we do not need to inflame them further. There is also no point encouraging the ire of Horus.

  “We also know that he has not planned for his succession, for fear of creating rivals. Would Buikkhu be accepted by the priesthood as their leader when his only skill is kissing Khenemet’s backside? If Khenemet were to eventually disappear, Nomti would get to name his own Chief Priest.”

  “You, Urshte?” one of the priests asked.

  “No, I could never be the Chief Horus Priest, nor would I ever want to.”

  “Merkha, then?”

  “Possibly, but I think he is fed up with the politics of the priesthood. I think it better to leave him to serve the King. He does have a strong adherent in Mhotep, a scholarly priest that is a shaman to Nomti right now. Merkha exerts great influence over him and uses him to spy on me and Nomti. It might be better for him to be named Chief Priest, so that Nomti can manipulate him through Merkha.”

  “Interesting,” Itafe said.

  After two more such planning meetings, my work in Dep was complete and I sailed back to Inabu-hedj, eager to brief Nomti on my progress and to hopefully sway his opinion. But we had docked for only a few moments when we heard the sound of the ram’s horns blasting from the palace above us. People looked up to see what was happening, pages ran to and fro, soldiers responded to barked orders coming from the palace porticos. Soon the palace was surrounded by the army. General Nebibi came onto the scene, yelling orders to his captains. When he turned and saw me walking up the stone walk that led to the town and Nomti’s house, he called out to me.

  “There has been a tragedy!” he bellowed. “It is the Princess… she… Banafrit is dead!”

  SCROLL TWENTY-EIGHT

  Lost Soul

  Merkha

  I raced from the palace to Nomti’s house when I received his summons. I found him pacing back and forth. Woserit had left to go to Irisi’s side as soon as she received the news, for she knew that the Isis priestesses must assume a large role in the Princess’ death.

  “You said nothing of this actually happening!” Nomti shouted at Urshte as soon as I walked in. “Certainly not right away or without my knowledge.”

  “I swear upon Horus that I knew nothing about it,” Urshte replied. “Do we know how she died?” He turned toward me for the answer.

  “Apparently she drowned. She was visiting her Aunt just a few hours sail north of here.”

  “Drowned? Are you certain?” Urshte’s face reflected his shock.

  “There is nothing I am certain about anymore, Urshte. Not since this whole… not since you… since we formed this cabal.”

  “Drowned, you say. That is curious. Surely you both remember what a good swimmer she was. That night on the boat sailing with Qa’a on Mother Nile.”

  “I had forgotten that, but you are right,” Nomti said. “That night she swam with her friends, fearlessly as I recall.”

  “I just returned from speaking with some of the leaders in Lower Kem,” Urshte explained, “and I picked up no hint of this happening.” He sat down and leaned on his staff, thinking hard, and I had to force my suspicions from my heart. Nomti paced agitatedly before us, lost in his own thoughts. “Once a game like this starts, who is to say how it will play out?”

  “This is no game, Urshte!” Nomti said, spinning around to face him. “This has crossed the line!”

  “Look, Nomti, Lower Kem is in turmoil. They have heard about Qa’a’s preparations for war. In their desperation a rogue group of protesters may have lashed out against the King. Perhaps they heard Banafrit was in the area and they simply did what they thought the gods had presented them with. I do not know right now, but I will find out.”

  “I cannot imagine what Qa’a is going through right now. And Queen Amisi must be… I cannot even imagine.”

  “I have just come from the palace,” I offered, “and I can tell you that it is in turmoil.”

  “It is important that you and Merkha go to Qa’a immediately,” Urshte suggested. “I will follow shortly.”

  “Yes, I must,” Nomti said, already looking around for his armband. “This is a sad day, Urshte. If your investigation finds that the Delta leaders you spoke with had anything to do with this, I will have nothing to do with them. Nor will you. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Perfectly.”

  When we entered the palace, I saw that in the garden Buikkhu was just gaining control of the mayhem, as he pointed servants to their appointed tasks. But as we passed near to the Queen’s quarters we heard screaming such as I am sure neither of us had ever heard before. The Queen was hysterical, wailing like a wounded animal, the pain of her only child taken from her piercing the palace’s brick walls. Handmaidens ushered in and out of her wing, carrying fresh sheets, baskets of food for visitors, and herbal medicines prescribed by Buikkhu I was sure. Through my own tear-filled eyes I noticed that Nomti swiped at his eyes with the back of his hands.

  In Qa’a’s wing a somber silence prevailed. The King sat on a chair in the corner of the room, looking for all the lands like a dazed beast. He appeared paralyzed, rigid, his eyes wide, staring straight ahead. We thought he did not even notice us enter, yet as we took our place standing in the corner exchanging glances with his physician priest to gather some information from our body language, Qa’a began to speak.

  “My sweet Banafrit is dead. How can this be?” he asked shaking his head from side to side. “Horus, why have you forsaken me? Are you testing me? Do all the gods in the heavens above mock me?” he yelled, pointing his finger toward the sky.

  As the senior priest there, I stepped forward to answer him, but he held up his hand to silence me. “No, Merkha
, do not bother with your lofty words. I have had my fill of sentimental gruel for now. This is Horus’ work. My brother is testing my resolve.”

  Qa’a arose, so slowly it was as if his very limbs ached. He again pointed to the heavens. “Damn you, Horus!” he screamed, now spreading his arms. “Damn all of you! You have stolen my only true beloved.” Tears streamed down his cheeks. Unsteadily, he sat back down in his chair.

  “Truly, Qa’a, I know not what to say,” I offered.

  “Then say nothing!” he retorted.

  I knew that Khenemet had already been summoned and was on his way to Inabu-hedj from an initiation ceremony he was conducting in a neighboring village. We sat quietly, waving away those who would pay their condolences to the King even before Banafrit’s body was brought back to the palace. Qa’a stared straight ahead, sometimes jerking his neck back and forth in a nervous twitch, appearing for all the worlds as if he was in a heated argument with the gods. Every muscle in his body seemed strung tightly.

  When Khenemet entered, his robe flowing behind him and his staff pounding authoritatively on the ground, Qa’a’s trance was broken. Khenemet bowed low before the King, his arms spread wide.

  “Get up!” Qa’a said angrily. Khenemet arose with difficulty, relying on his staff to help his aching bones.

  “My King, I am so sorry that this…”

  “Khenemet, I warn you!” Qa’a said pointing directly at the Chief Priest. “Do not attempt to sling your priestly dung at me.”

  “I know you are upset, Master, but…”

  “Ah, all must be well in the Two Lands, for you recognize that I am upset. Good. That is very good. Do you all hear that?” Qa’a called out, his arms open wide to encompass us all. “Our dear Chief Priest understands that I am upset.” Qa’a stood, holding on to his chair to steady himself for a moment.

  “Oh yes, Chief Priest, I am upset. My insides boil in rage. But to whom should my rage be directed? Tell me that, wise shaman. To the gods for not protecting the fruit of my seed? To Horus for not swooping down to rescue her? To the despicable filth of the Delta to whom I have been far too lenient?” By now Qa’a had paced to face Khenemet. He leaned forward, just a hand’s width from Khenemet’s face. “Or should I rage at you, Chief Priest, whose prayers the gods no longer listen to?”

  Khenemet was taken aback by Qa’a’s display of anger. “There are matters that we do not understand, Master. The gods, in their infinite wisdom…”

  “Infinite wisdom? What wisdom was there in taking away my only son, heir to the throne? What wisdom is there in Banafrit dying, my sweet little girl who was my flesh and blood, who could have reigned as regent until she raised her own son to lead?”

  “But there is still time, Master.”

  “Still time, Priest? You dare joke at my expense? The Queen is barren, shriveled to a mut of the beauty she once was. She is curled up on the floor now like a beaten dog, helplessly wailing for our dear Banafrit, while I must figure out a way to carry on. That is a woman’s right, to wail and complain, yet it is we men who must carry the burden.”

  “The Princess was her only child, Qa’a. She grieves as only a mother can.”

  “And was Banafrit not my child, too, and my confidante? Did I not love her and prepare her for rule, as my own father did not do with me? Did I not play with her on Mother Nile’s banks? Amisi has lost her reasoning. She has the luxury of doing that. I have no such luxury, do I?”

  This was the first time I saw Khenemet truly frightened. His eyes were wide, searching for a way to respond to Qa’a. “Master, you are the King. That comes with terrible burdens. You must rule the Two Lands even with the heaviest of hearts.”

  Qa’a stood slightly hunched over as if something in his stomach clutched at him. He staggered to his chair and sat heavily. His eyes were red and swollen. “Have you determined yet what happened?” he asked.

  “The messages are incomplete. We have heard that she was playing in and out of the water with her cousins as night fell.”

  “Was it… was she..?”

  “No crocodiles were nearby. The captain of the boat had lowered his nets and made sure of that. The girls were playing a game of hiding along the riverbank. The next thing they saw was her body floating in the water. Thankfully it is whole and she will have a safe journey to the Afterlife. Her heart is surely light as a feather and will be judged properly so by Anubis.” Qa’a covered his eyes with his hands.

  “Do you suspect foul play?” Qa’a asked.

  “I am not sure. I will withhold judgment until I examine her body, which will arrive later today or tomorrow. We also have priests at the site speaking with all who were present.” Qa’a shook his head and closed his eyes.

  Khenemet motioned to the physician, who brought a small alabaster dispensary cup and handed it to his superior. “Here, Qa’a, you must drink this.” The King looked up at Khenemet, as if trying to comprehend his words. I expected him to protest, but he said not a word, took the cup and drank the foul brew. In a few more moments he retired to his bed.

  While Khenemet waited for the Princess’ body to arrive, Nomti, Urshte and I made for Nomti’s house, where we sat in the garden. “I have sent for Irisi,” Urshte said. “It is time we met as one.”

  When she arrived I thought my eyes witnessed a ghost. Irisi was already grieving. She wore no makeup. Her eyes were red and swollen, her face pale from lack of sleep. She wore a rough burlap gown, rent here and there in signs of mourning. Instead of her proud posture, she walked hunched over, burdened by her pain. We all stood to greet her.

  As she walked to her seat, she kept her gaze on Urshte. “Why Urshte? Why was it necessary to commit this heinous act?”

  “I had nothing…”

  “That is dung!” she retorted. “I now carry the most vile sin upon my breasts. We all bear the guilt of the Princesses death.”

  “Irisi, listen carefully,” Urshte protested. “I knew nothing of the Princess’ death. I heard of no plans when I was in the Delta. This… I am as shocked as you.”

  “I doubt that, Urshte. Were you present at sweet Banafrit’s birth? Did you instruct her in the womanly arts? Were you her confidante in all manner of things? No. I was. And I have lost a daughter and sister in her death.” Tears ran freely down her cheeks. “I shudder at my role in this unholy cabal.”

  “We know not what happened, Irisi,” I interjected. “Do not be hasty to judgment. It may have been an accident.”

  “Do you believe that, even for one moment, Merkha? With the Princess eliminated, Mume now has claim on the throne. That is what they are after, is it not, Urshte?” All eyes turned to Urshte.

  “I admit that it would seem that the Delta would benefit from Banafrit’s death, but so would Khenemet.” I was shocked at Urshte’s words. Irisi’s mouth hung open and Nomti sat stone-faced.

  “You all look surprised, yet think on it for a moment. Semerkhet obstructed Khenemet’s plans and all of us here suspect it was Khenemet who had him poisoned. Qa’a is turning out to be equally difficult. By murdering Banafrit, the only obstacle to Khenemet being the most powerful man in the Two Lands is Mume, and we know what his plans are for him, do we not?”

  “But even if you are right, Qa’a is still King,” Nomti offered.

  “True, and I admit I have no knowledge of Khenemet’s possible plans there. He and Buikkhu are secretive and only parse out what they wish others to know, even if those tidbits are false so as to lead people astray. But the ease with which they murdered Semerkhet from within the palace walls with no one suspecting what they were doing leads me to believe that when they feel the timing is right they would move swiftly.”