The Way of the Seed_Earth Spawn of Kalpeon

by Richard Dean Hall

  When Ott finished, the king rose, studying Ott with calm contemplation. “Your skills as a bowyer are exceptional, Otteri. Such skills are usually honed over a lifetime. All the royal bowyers are much older than you, and their work, although exceptional, cannot compare to yours. You have a gift from the gods, Otteri.”

  Ott responded with a silent nod as the king continued. “I value your gift, because unlike the beauty of statues and temples and gardens that please the eye and pay silent homage to the gods, your bows have use in this world and in the next. Do you wield a bow as well as you craft them, Otteri?”

  “We are all capable with a bow,” Ott answered with a sweep of his hand to Cha, Graf, and Yaan.

  The king’s face softened. “Good,” he continued with a hint of a smile, “then perhaps you all will join me in the hunt for game for the palace table and instruct me in increasing my skill with the bows you have crafted?”

  Though delicately phrased, it was no request. The king did not request. Ott and the others would join the king in the hunt, and in the months that followed, a strange bond was formed that would transform Tutankhamun’s life far beyond the afterlife he believed would be his.

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  Ott and the others visited the palace on many occasions for extended periods of time. They became accepted as untitled members of the royal court and participated in the royal hunts. The hunts were conducted from two different locations and in two distinct ways. The majority of the outings took place aboard a royal barge outfitted as much for pleasure as for hunting waterfowl. The huge craft was permanently anchored along a section of the river north of the palace. Before it stretched an extensive marshland covered in patchy growths of reeds and choked with thick low-growing vegetation. It was a habitat used by hundreds of thousands of different types of large geese, ducks, and other waterfowl that nested among the reeds and foraged along the low bank for aquatic plants.

  The royal hunting barge was similar to the one used by General Horemheb, but far larger and more elaborate with a high-thatched roof to allow air to circulate while providing shade. Floor-to-roof framed linen panels enclosed the interior, which contained several low banquet tables surrounded with thick seating pads. Away from the tables stood multiple serving stations manned by barge attendants who would bring food cooked in clay ovens and waist-high grills in the large kitchen at the far end of the craft.

  On the side facing the river was a sunken enclosure constructed of cedar and large enough to accommodate up to fifty people. The underwater sides were constructed with hundreds of small, circular openings to allow the river water to flow through unobstructed while keeping the pool free of any fish and river debris. Wide steps led into the water, which reached a depth of four feet. Sitting above the surface of the water around the structure was a polished wood ledge for food and drinking vessels.

  The marsh side of the craft featured a full-length raised platform that extended over the water with an unobstructed view of the shore. Any targets they spotted there would be within easy bow range. A three-foot-high rail ran the entire length of the shooting platform, and it was shaded with linen and cotton canopies. Outside the communal banquet area were dozens of sleeping quarters with solid wood roofs and linen-paneled sides. The king’s quarters extended up and out over the water and could comfortably accommodate fifty visitors. The royal barge was every bit a small anchored town, and like everything in the king’s life, it was designed for his pleasure and comfort.

  After the first few excursions on the royal hunting barge, Ott and the others realized the outings were as much recreational banquets as they were hunting trips. Without exception, the outings took on a familiar pattern. On the day before a hunt, the king, queen, and a large retinue of nobles, military officers, and guests would be ferried from the palace dock in the afternoon upriver to the barge. Upon arriving, they would be greeted by attendants who would dispense beer and wine while other servers would offer trays of fruit and bread with cinnamon and honey. Many would take to the cedar pool to refresh and relax, while others would stroll about enjoying the river breeze. Later, more attendants would fill the tables with carefully prepared dishes of roasted and grilled meats served with plates of figs, olives, bread, and fruits. With the banquet served and the sun winking below the horizon, torches would be lit, and the conversations would begin.

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  Because of their status and their relationship with General Horemheb, Ott and the others were invited to the king’s table from the first time they boarded the royal barge. Tutankhamun was intrigued by their knowledge of the foreign lands where they had traded. The king had ascended the throne as a young boy, and through his early years he had been guided by capable elder advisors and the ever-present priests. Intelligent and inquisitive, he had taken to his reign with a well-schooled understanding of what was expected of the ruler of the richest civilization in the known world. As a young adult, he had exerted his power and absolute authority with competence and a sincere regard for the good of the people and the peace of the land. Now he ruled with confidence, and while he understood his domain, he lacked firsthand knowledge of foreign ways of life. Tutankhamun had never traveled beyond his own kingdom and was intensely interested in the great cities on the shores of the Wadj-Wer Sea to the north and the inland cities beyond.

  The king’s interest was spawned by a desire to evaluate his own reign and measure it with the rule of other kings. That interest was further piqued by the conversations at the barge banquets. At those banquets he would probe Ott and the others for details about the style and size of structures, statuary, and palace grounds of great cities, but more than anything else he would ask about the people and how the king ruled. No matter which land was being described, the questions were always the same. Was the king feared or respected? Were the people oppressed? Was there enough food? Did they wage war? Did the king strive for balance and harmony? The king’s curiosity gave rise to many questions, but Ott, Cha, Graf, and Yaan provided answers with a vast knowledge acquired over travels to lands and cities that still flourished, and others that had disappeared long ago. There were many such conversations on the royal barge and at an equally elaborate land-based hunting complex located at an oasis by the lower region of the river. Over time, Tutankhamun developed a regard for Ott and the others that went far beyond their status. He was fascinated by their knowledge of foreign lands, but even more taken by their knowledge and understanding of his own kingdom.

  Over the next two years Ott, Cha, Graf, and Yaan lived at the royal complex. They traveled with the king to the royal barge and hunted with him at the oasis, and over that time the king began to view them as something more than people. It wasn’t so much their wealth, bearing, and intellect the king found so interesting; those attributes were obvious and understandable, although rare in people so young. What was more intriguing, and somewhat confusing, was their vast knowledge of the kingdom he ruled. In conversation they would speak casually of kings who had ruled during some of the earliest dynasties. Once they had even spoke of King Narmer, who was revered as the first king to unite the regions by defeating the ruler of the lower regions. That defeated ruler’s name had been lost over time. All recorded accounts from ancient scribes had only referenced him as the Scorpion King, yet Ott spoke of him as Djar. It was a name unknown and unrecorded on any of the most ancient carvings and writings. When questioned, Ott apologized and stated that his knowledge was sketchy and he must have confused the accounts he had heard from a scribe.

  Stranger still was an account given to the king by a high priest. The priest said he had observed the four traders studying an ancient hieroglyph on a temple wall and then overheard them discussing the meanings of the text. That temple was several hundred years old, and the style and symbols of the hieroglyph on it had changed so much since then that not even the palace scribes or the elder priests could understand it. Yet Ott and the others seemed to understand it with ease.

  Even with the familiarity that came over time, t
he king continued to view Ott and the others as extraordinary individuals. They never spoke of their wealth, yet everyone knew they had more boats and crews on the river than any other traders. They had other ships and crews that traded at all the cities that ringed the Wadj-Wer Sea. They were wealthy. They possessed knowledge that belied their age, and they had skills and abilities that defied understanding. While hunting waterfowl from the royal barge or gazelle, antelope, and ostrich at the oasis, the king had never seen any of them miss a shot. He had witnessed Yaan track a goose in flight and release the arrow with such precision that not only did she get the bird, but it fell at her feet on the barge. It was a shot he had never seen any archer attempt, yet she had done it with ease. Sometimes, when conversing among themselves, they seemed to finish each other’s sentences, and on occasion they would do it in a language no one had ever heard. In conversation and action, it was as though they knew each other’s thoughts and intentions.

  As the king spent more time in the presence of two couples, the more he came to view them as four of the most strange and extraordinary people he had ever known. But there was something else he could only sense. It was an intuition about their very being.

  It was an incident at the hunting oasis that would heighten the enigma to a level that would bewilder Tutankhamun and give rise to questions not even Ott and the others could answer.

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  Shaded by hundreds of towering palms, the hunting oasis consisted of dozens of pools and gurgling streams fed by underground springs and surrounded by shrubs and water grasses that grew in thick profusion. Scattered throughout the oasis were numerous limestone structures used for housing those who joined the king on hunts. In addition, there was one large banquet building with all the comforts of the palace. A large cadre of attendants accompanied the king and his guests to each oasis hunt, but the facility was also attended to and maintained by numerous attendants who lived there permanently.

  Hunting large game from the southern oasis was far different from shooting waterfowl from the comfort and safety of the royal barge. It was considerably more rigorous and dangerous, with a very real possibility of serious injury and even death.

  A huge tract of game-rich wilderness extended from the camp far south to the thick jungle of Nubia. The terrain was of two distinct types and clearly divided. The left side of the oasis led into savannah with thick brush and large stands of tall, tropical trees and lower hardwoods in between. The savannah had streams and was pocked with large water holes and ponds fed by the same aquifer that supported the lush oasis. On the opposite side of the oasis, the grassy savannah thinned and gave way to an open plain of sandy soil strewn with rocks and larger boulders.

  The hunting technique was simple and effective. Hunting chariots, each manned by a charioteer and an archer, would leave the oasis and proceed along the open plain, skirting the brush and trees on the thinning edge of the savannah. The chariots, usually numbering from five to ten, would travel in single file, separated by thirty to fifty yards. Game consisting of gazelles, wild cattle, bushbucks, and other varieties of antelope would usually bolt from the passing chariots, but some would continue grazing. Those within bow range were taken with well-placed shots and retrieved by attendants who followed well behind the chariots.

  It was the occasional beast that panicked, broke from the brush, and darted out to the open plain that set the stage for the first real danger. The closest chariot would begin a fast-paced pursuit. Whipping the reins, the charioteer would pace the fleeing beast over the rocky terrain until the beast tired and he could maneuver close enough for the archer to take a shot. With the excited horses pulling the chariot at a full gallop, the rocky terrain became treacherous, and on occasion chariots were catapulted and flipped. Although infrequent, more than a few charioteers and archers had died from violent crashes.

  The second cause for concern was a chance encounter with lions from the numerous prides that roamed their territories and hunted as the apex predators. Such encounters were infrequent but not uncommon, and the results could be deadly. The cats hunted to the edges of the savannah and often would pursue fleeing animals on the open plain. Most lions had never encountered humans in the vast wilderness, and they had no fear of chariots or hunters. To hungry lions on the prowl, the horses and men were nothing more than opportune prey to be pursued, slaughtered, and devoured like any other animal.

  Ott, Cha, Graf, and Yaan had hunted with Tutankhamun on many occasions at the oasis with no incidents involving an encounter with lions or serious accidents with their chariots, but on this day, they would experience both and a third, even deadlier encounter. And it was the occurrence that would unfold at the oasis that would convince Tutankhamun that Ott, Cha, Graf, and Yaan were not people at all.

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  With early morning shafts of sunlight stabbing through the palms, the four chariots rolled out of the oasis on the last hunt of the four-day outing. In the lead chariot, Tutankhamun readied the shorter of the three bows Ott had crafted and ran his hand over the arrows protruding from the ebony quiver secured to the side of the chariot. Ay, the commander of the Maryannu chariot corps, gripped the reins and steadied the horses. Behind the king’s chariot, Ott reined his horses to a slow walk to increase the distance between them. Next to him, facing over the side, Cha swung her bow in an arc, gauging the line of sight. In the third chariot, Graf tended to the reins as Yaan checked her arrows for any that may have warped, cracked, or come apart. Trailing in the last chariot, Horemheb stood alert at the side of his personal charioteer.

  The three preceding days of hunting had been successful with a variety of animals taken, but the activity had frightened off most of the other game. This morning, the chariots would have to travel farther down the fringe of wilderness to find more. The sun was climbing to midday when the chariots rolled along a stretch of particularly thick brush backed by a large copse of tall palms and lower hardwoods. With no activity and the day turning hot, the horses plodded along at a slow walk. The air was still, and in the sandy soil the chariots were silent and smooth.

  In the lead chariot, Ay shifted both reins to his right hand and raised his left arm above his head. All chariots held in place. Something was on the move in the brush. In the dense underbrush, Ay couldn’t identify the shape, but he could see the brush moving and splotches of black and white flashing past openings in the growth. Whatever it was, it was large and moving quickly. The blurred black-and-white flashes paralleled the plain and moved down and away from Ay’s line of sight. He motioned back to Ott and Cha. It was heading toward them.

  In the hot, still air Ott watched, motionless. Movement would reveal their target’s location, but no movement came. Ott’s experience told him that whatever it was, it was either hiding or hunting.

  All four chariots remained still as everyone scanned the brush. Several seconds passed until the horses began prancing and throwing their heads, neighing excitedly. A second later the birds thrashed out of the brush. Over nine feet tall and weighing over three hundred and fifty pounds, the ostriches were covered in a mélange of loose black feathers tipped in white. Their long, bony legs had knee joints that broke forward and made for an ungainly gait that belied their speed over open ground. On flat terrain, they could outpace a galloping horse.

  With a flurry of feathers and large, fanlike wings pounding the air, the huge flightless birds broke at a full run across the rock-strewn terrain. Ott pulled back hard on the reins to settle the horses, then slapped down, urging the team forward. The horses bolted ahead. Bow slung across her back, Cha held tight to the leather-wrapped handrail ringing the top edge of the chariot as it swerved to the side and bounced onto the plain in pursuit of the strange birds. As the horses clamored farther out, the clattering of the copper-rimmed wheels over the rocks increased, and the chariot shook violently.

  Ott eyed the terrain nervously. His heart began to race, and he squeezed the reins in a white-knuckled grip. It was getting worse, with more rocks and small bou
lders in every direction. If they careened off a large-enough rock at their speed, the wheels could easily lose purchase. Ott knew the pursuit was getting dangerous, and losing control of the chariot would result in a violent crash. What he didn’t know was that it wasn’t the chariots that had caused the birds to break cover. They had flushed because of what was stalking them in the brush.

  The lion was a large adult male in its prime, with a full black-and-cinnamon-tinged mane that flowed over its muscular front quarters and made its five-hundred-pound body appear even larger. The beast sat motionless in the brush at the edge of the plain, its wide paws overlapping to the front. Its black eyes radiated a predator’s calm as it tracked the ostriches and the other two animals following them. In the brush the birds had been elusive, but now they were in clear sight. There would be no hiding and no escape. For the birds, or the other two animals, it would be just a matter of which he could run down first. Never taking his eyes from the prey, the beast loped out of the brush. It was no longer a stalk.

  In the chariot, Ott struggled to control the horses as they charged ahead over the increasingly uneven terrain. He pulled hard right to avoid a jutting boulder, but the chariot drifted wide in the loose soil and the left wheel cracked into it. The chariot careened off and twisted high in the air. Ott lost the reins and was catapulted as the chariot crashed down hard on its side and plowed forward. Cha held on for several seconds before losing her grip and sliding out. She rolled and tumbled for several yards over the rocky ground before slamming to a stop, stunned and shaken.

  In the lead chariot, Ay and Tutankhamun cringed as they watched the chariot flip high and crash down out of sight behind a cluster of boulders. From their vantage point, they couldn’t see what happened to Cha, but from the severity of the crash, they felt certain both she and Ott could be severely injured, or worse.