King Narmer himself was crowned Master of the Two Lands in the holy city of Nekhen so many years ago, and to this day the palette of Unification was still displayed in the temple, proudly describing the events surrounding Narmer’s most famous military victory, his defeat of King W’ash of Lower Kem. I remember as a toddler seeing the palette for the first time, its immense size as tall as I was, its black and green coloration adding to the mysteries carved into its surface. In that same temple, King Narmer’s son, Hor-Aha, my grandfather, was crowned, as was his son, my uncle, Djer.
Yet the Horus Temple in Nekhen itself was modest and far smaller than the much newer and airier Horus temple here in Inabu-hedj. In that way it was as if time had stood still for Nekhen, both a blessing and a curse, for while they retained the most holy of Temples exactly as it had always been, as a result their town would never grow larger for it could not accommodate enough priests to serve a growing population.
Since Narmer unified our lands, Kem had grown mighty, both due to the expanded commerce within its borders and the trade with our outside neighbors. Each town along Mother Nile seemed to attract artisans of a particular craft. So one was known for exquisite pottery, while another was famous for its beer or elegant weaving or fine jewelry making.
Ever-longer caravans of donkeys continually left from towns along the Nile traveling east and south to exchange our fine clay pots and exquisite jewelry and even our many beers for wood and spices, clothes and all manner of exotic wares from our neighbors. As the fortunes of the merchants and the nobles increased, our towns grew in size and influence. Each year new goods were imported to our lovely Kem, from places that were further and further away. Exotic woods with strange patterns in them came from Lebanese craftsmen, fragrant spices arrived from the lands east of Babylon, all manner of colorful cloth came from Kush and from the southern lands beyond, and furnishings trimmed in precious metals from Babylon itself.
In the capital city of Inabu-hedj our markets were easily double or triple the size of those in other cities. Just walking down the sandy main streets, one could find every manner of food and wares. Rows of merchants stood before their stalls, hawking their products. People shopped under the tattered burlap awnings that covered each stall, picking at the wares and loudly haggling over prices. The wide roads, the spacious Royal palace and the elaborate houses of the nobility and wealthy merchants made Inabu-hedj the location of choice for the royal wedding. Quarried stone has begun to replace mud bricks in the construction of the homes of some of the wealthier residents, giving Inabu-hedj a gleaming white presence such as no city in Kem has ever seen. And, with twenty thousand inhabitants, we were the largest city in Kem by far.
I, for one, had been praying to Isis every day that the wedding would be held in my precious Inabu-hedj and so was thrilled by King Djer’s decision. Although Amka certainly knew of my predisposition to Inabu-hedj, he maintained that it did not enter the deliberations at all, which I assumed he was saying to defend his and the King’s male prerogatives.
Oh, and those prerogatives! Ti-Ameny had spent the last three years instructing me often in the womanly arts, many hours of which involved trying to help me understand what it was that men desired from their women. Some of her teachings seemed simple enough to understand, mostly descriptions of the sex acts, which were not surprising since I had many times seen animals copulating in the royal menagerie or in the fields surrounding the palace, or else heard the pleasure moans and gasps of many couplings within the palace walls.
However other of her teachings baffled me greatly. I had few opportunities to learn about men from my friends, almost all of who were other girls. My male cousins were put to work while still in their youth learning the various crafts and skills deemed necessary for noblemen or warriors, so that I was deprived of their knowledge just as my body changed and I needed their explanations most. So I remembered one particular exchange I had with Ti-Ameny after she had been with me for nearly a year.
“I do understand that his organ must get hard and I do understand that he wishes to place it inside me, but that is not my question,” I said, frustrated.
“Alright, explain to me your question again,” Ti-Ameny said patiently.
“Ahhh,” I sighed in annoyance. “What I am asking is how does he signal his intention to do this thing? Does he just show it to me, or point to it? Is it already long and stiff, or is there some secret signal given between husband and wife that begins this… this process?”
To her credit, Ti-Ameny never laughed at my silly questions. Her patience was well known to everyone in the Royal Court. “This is the hardest part to explain,” Ti-Ameny started. We were seated in the courtyard of my new quarters, which the King had built just for me in the palace once I entered womanhood. Colorful birds, attracted to my private gardens that I had designed with my uncle’s architect, flitted from branch to branch, chirping and trilling in all manner of sweet song. The male gardeners had learned to stay out of earshot whenever Ti-Ameny and I were engaged in conversation and when they saw us approaching they nearly stumbled into each other gathering their tools to leave.
As on most days, Ti-Ameny was dressed in her pure white linen robe, with a swag of neatly pleated and pressed fabric running across her abdomen. Her jewelry was always simple, yet somehow noticeably elegant, as if her jeweler made each piece for her alone, knowing what would accent the goodness of her ba. She wore the honorary gold armband of the King’s retinue on her left bicep and a delicate gold-chain necklace made for her in the King’s own workshops. Her sandals were of the finest woven rushes, inlaid with colorful orange carnelians and deep blue lapis lazuli. Her hair was carefully pinned up with ivory combs and fell in deep, dark curls onto her shoulders. Her eyes were always shadowed in a pleasing green, and delicately lined with black kohl. With her diminutive stature, I never tired of looking at her.
“Well, of course there are obvious differences between men and women,” she began. “Whatever the gods placed in their bas to make them bigger and stronger than women, also appears to make them more prone to displays of anger. But it also appears to make them sexually desire us constantly. They are known to think about pleasing their organs and spilling their seed… I’d say most of the time!” At this she laughed, and I suspected she was recalling experiences from when she was a priestess at the temple of the goddess Isis. In recent months several of my female relatives had mentioned her renowned sexual experiences during her youth, ones that made her the very healer to seek out when sexual problems emerged between a couple. Both men and women could be seen consulting with her, often in hushed tones in the corridors of the palace.
“So, you needn’t worry. It really doesn’t take much for a woman to excite her mate. I will soon teach you how to bring Wadjet into heat such as I suspect he has not experienced so far in this life. But, to answer your question directly, sometimes men announce their desire in the way they look at you, or the way they kiss you at bedtime, or by the way their stiff organs propel them into heat beyond their control. All of these things we will discuss, my princess, very soon. It is in how you respond to Wadjet’s desire that will determine much of the joy and success in your relationship with him.”
She shifted now in her seat, turned sideways and looked me in the eyes. “But, there is another part to this story that we haven’t discussed… yet,” she said, smiling. “And that is the pleasures you are entitled to feel while Wadjet receives his pleasure from your coupling.” I stared at Ti-Ameny, wide-eyed I am sure.
“You look at me in wonder, but it is true, my young princess, that Kemian women are unique among the women of our surrounding lands. I have been with men from far away places, like the Akkadians and Sumerians, even a few of the darkest Ta-Sety men you will ever see. To them, sex is only a way for the man to be satisfied. Their women are much disrespected, I must say, and are treated as mere beasts of burden conveniently able to bear children. But Kemian women are treated differently, whether inside the home or out. We ha
ve many rights not granted to women in other lands. We are expected to enjoy the acts of sex, too.”
I was often puzzled at much of what Ti-Ameny said, but none more than now. I had so many questions I hardly knew where to begin. But begin I did and for the next few hours we strolled through the elaborate gardens that I had designed to encourage and reflect ma’at, stopping every so often to giggle, or so I could absorb the scandalous things she passionately described about our bodies, but that I scarcely believed could truly be so. Even then I remember that our conversations often brought strange, pleasurable sensations to my body. On those evenings I retired to bed feeling a wetness and exquisite sensitivity between my legs. That was three years past and now we had reached the point where all her instructions were about to be tested.
Not that Wadjet and I had not tried out some of Ti-Ameny’s suggestions in the intervening years, for I had learned early on from the seers in the temple of Isis that my ba was an adventurous one. We did kiss whenever we could be alone and, if we were seated, it took just a few thrusts of my tongue to notice Wadjet’s ample one-eyed beast struggling to poke out from his loincloth. There were even times when we were alone on an evening stroll, when we would stop to sit and I stroked his organ until, with a series of groans, he shot his warm seed with great force onto my arm or robe. The first few times such a waste of seed distressed me greatly, but I saw that it pleased him and no ill fortune seemed to derive from it. The supply miraculously seemed inexhaustible.
Once, on a still evening, as her current gently lapped against the shore, we strolled along Mother Nile and stopped to sit on a stone bench that was secluded among some trees and bushes. I had already decided to try something adventurous that night that I had just learned from Ti-Ameny. After we kissed tenderly for a long time, and my tongue had aroused Wadjet’s passions, he tentatively touched my breasts. Just as he began to excite my nipple, I slipped off the bench and gently held his pouch and placed his member in my mouth for the very first time. He gasped so loudly I feared being discovered by one of my Uncle’s guards. But, in his passion Wadjet thrust his penis too deeply and I choked and forgot Ti-Ameny’s lessons on how to prevent that from happening. Wadjet laughed good-naturedly that night, and throughout our time of courtship he was always patient with me, for which I will always be grateful. We never crossed the line and engaged in the forbidden act of intercourse before marriage, one that would have shamed us had I become pregnant. As I fondled him and learned what pleased him over the following months, he did the same with me, caressing my most sensitive parts and leaving me gasping with pleasure. With the wedding upon us, I frequently spent nights wondering how it would feel to have Wadjet penetrating those sensitive parts.
With preparations for the wedding entering their most hectic phase just a month prior to the wedding, I was summoned one afternoon to King Djer’s quarters, where I waited for nearly an hour as I heard him repeatedly try to end a meeting of his advisors. I knew how he hated those meetings, for he was old and had been reigning as King for most of his life. I paced the portico outside my uncle’s rooms, admiring his garden with its many shallow pools surrounded by trees and flowers, servants dutifully absorbed in feeding the colorful fish and birds or trimming the water weeds that were planted in buckets throughout. Ra stood high in the azure blue sky and not a cloud was in sight. I looked out over Mother Nile, its waters still flowing full after the annual floods, the life-giving soil it left behind a dark, rich brown. Each whisper of wind carried the scents of flowers and herbs and the trills of birds, so that my mood was buoyed up as I waited.
“Does my niece think I have all day to wait on her as she makes poetry in her heart to Mother Nile?” I heard a gruff voice roar behind me.
“Oh, no, Uncle. I… I was just waiting for your meeting to be over.” Then I saw him break into a smile and he held out his hands to me. I was torn by my desire to run into them and jump upon him, as I had always done. But now that I was in my fifteenth year and to be a married woman, I held my head stiff and walked toward him as regally as I could bear. Still, we hugged each other warmly, he rocking me back and forth gently while stroking my hair.
We sat out on the balcony under a canopy of reeds, alabaster bowls filled to overflowing with fresh fruits placed beside us. My Uncle’s girth had expanded since my youth and he hardly gave the appearance of a warrior king as he munched from a handful of grapes and nuts and periodically pierced a piece of cheese with his alabaster fork. No matter, for to me every deben of him I loved dearly like I would have my own father. Together we watched the fishermen balanced on the gunwales of their boats, effortlessly tossing their nets into Mother Nile’s swift current and a few moments later pulling in their abundant catches. The iridescent scales of the fish reflected Ra’s rays as they flapped frantically on the decks.
“And how go the plans for the wedding?” Uncle Djer asked, still looking out over the sparkling waters that he alone commanded. The desert dust created a haze that partially hid the red hills across the muddy river. With that I proceeded to tell him of the intricate web of his government ministries, personal relationships and bruised egos I was learning to negotiate in order for all the wedding plans to come together. Wadjet had assigned to me a supervisor from his retinue who was an expert in arranging government celebrations, but at this point I was at a loss to know how all the details would eventually merge. Uncle Djer laughed frequently at my tribulations, especially when I described Amka and Ti-Ameny’s conflicting responsibilities.
“Ah, Mery, I assure you everything will come together as planned. There are none in the Two Lands who look out more for your welfare than Amka and Ti-Ameny.” Then, shifting his body in his seat, Uncle Djer looked directly at me. “Mery, there are other things of which we must speak, serious things.” From the gravity of his voice I said a quick, silent prayer to Isis that, thinking I was motherless, he was not about to have a talk with me regarding sexual matters. I turned my gaze toward my sandals.
He groped for the right words. “You know, Mery, our people often speak of King Narmer…”
“May his name be praised…”
“Yes, yes, we all know the correct responses. May his name be praised for all eternity. May his name be recorded in the scrolls of life. Yes, yes, yes.” He paused, appearing agitated, thinking of what to say next.
“It is a difficult thing, Mery, when a great man- or a great woman for that matter- dies and all we are left with are memories of his ba. Even sadder is the fact that almost no one who now walks the Two Lands ever knew King Narmer personally. Amka and I are perhaps the only ones left. All the others hear are stories, tales that become so twisted they only bear the most distant resemblance to the truth. Most who live here in Kem,” he said swinging his arm in an arc over Mother Nile, “were not even alive when he died.” Uncle Djer looked away, tossing the few grapes he held back into his bowl.
“It is of the mighty Narmer that we must now speak, little one, for as surely as his spirit now roams his beloved Kem, watching over us all, he would be exceedingly proud of you and Wadjet.” I sat up straight in my chair, feeling a mixture of fright and excitement, for never in my life had Uncle Djer spoken to me in detail about his grandfather.
“And, you knew him,” I said cautiously.
“Yes, I knew him,” he continued, looking sad, “but only when he was already what you would consider ancient, and very close to his journey to the Afterlife. The gods had rewarded his good deeds with a life of nearly sixty years by then. My father, your grandfather Hor-aha, used to bring me to him to visit, or that is what I thought my father’s purpose was at the time. Sometimes King Narmer would recognize me as his grandson and future heir, other times he imagined that he looked at a reflection of himself in a mirror and he would talk to me as if he talked to his child ba. Or sometimes he mistook me for his long-dead Vizier, Anhotek. At those visits I would be frightened and run to my father’s side.” I smiled at Uncle Djer’s recollection.
“Yes, I look back on
that time, my little lotus, and wonder why Horus afforded me the honor to sit on his lap and touch his mortal flesh, to be loved by such a one as King Narmer.” Uncle Djer shook his head and reached for his cup of barley beer. He sipped from it for many minutes, the white alabaster translucent in Ra’s rays, before he spoke again.
“Now I realize that my father’s purpose in having me visit Narmer so often was different, far wiser. By insisting that I form a bond with my grandfather...” Again he hesitated. “Damn, I hate this!” he suddenly shouted, pounding his fist on the arm of his chair. He stood and paced between the balcony wall and me.
“I’m sorry, Mery, I don’t mean to frighten you. It’s just that I find it difficult to put these important thoughts into words. I’m not very good at speeches.” He paced a few more steps.
“Reading the scroll parchments, the ones written by King Narmer and his beloved scribe Anhotek, where they describe all they did to unite the Two Lands, one can only marvel that two such god-men walked the very ground we trod in our beloved Kem, even here in this very palace.” Goosebumps immediately played down my back and I shivered despite the heat.
“Ma’at was never stronger than in the old days, perfectly balanced, so that the forces of chaos were kept in control. The Horus priests’ magic was the strongest it had ever been. Their daily prayers keep Ra rising each day, even as the forces of chaos press in upon us, always.
“In Narmer’s times the swamp dwellers of the north threatened us. The Ta-Tjehenus, may their names be stricken from the book of life, raided us from the west without mercy, killing our people, raping our daughters, stealing our food. Famine was upon our land. Yet King Narmer’s vision of a united Kem was far stronger than those forces could ever be, for his vision of a greater Kem was given to him by our gods, who waited for generations for the man with a pure and mighty ba, a man with his inner character, to arrive in our land. That is why he accomplished what none were able to do before him.”
The Dagger of Isis (The First Dynasty Book 2) Page 3