The Dagger of Isis (The First Dynasty Book 2)

by Lester Picker

  Priests from all temples in the surrounding nomes sent representatives to the gates to bless the King and his men. When the King’s litter approached the priests, it halted and the carriers placed the litter on a raised platform. There Amka and the Chief Horus priest from Inabu-hedj personally blessed the King. Then the priests kneeled and received a blessing from Horus’ brother, Wadjet. As Wadjet rose, the crowds shushed each other, until silence fell upon the streets, except for a single donkey braying in the distance. Wadjet wore a breastplate made of pure gold and his warrior battle dress of thick leather. His scabbard held his sword, which he handed to Herihor who now stood beside him. He wore a helmet of leather, with a gold half-mask that covered the upper part of his face, save two slits for the eyes, so that the rekhi would not have to turn away from Horus’ countenance as they bowed low before him.

  Once the King completed his blessing, the column of soldiers resumed their march. The last of the crowd that the soldiers passed were their wives and children, girlfriends and parents. There were cries of anguish as children, held tight by their mothers, reached out their tiny hands to be held one last time by their fathers. Yet the soldiers had to ignore them and look straight ahead. Many silent tears ran down the cheeks of those brave warriors that sunny morning.

  Many not so silent tears I shed, too, and I would be lying if my account told that I had no troubles with Djet leaving me, for he had never before left me to go on a prolonged military expedition. Djet had to spend far too much of his time and patience listening to my worries over our parting and drying my tears, this I admit.

  “We have been over this… more than once or twice,” Djet said to me the evening before his departure.

  I felt melancholy and throughout the day I had sulked and was not good with Zenty. Abana, who always worried about fevers and mut spirits, told me at one point to lay down and she had a servant bring me an herbal tea.

  “I know, dear. I… I do not understand why I yet feel so badly,” I replied, pacing away from my beloved. My heart beat hard in my chest.

  Djet walked over to me, his body casting long shadows in the candlelight. Outside Mother Nile flowed quietly under the light of Ra’s silver disk. Inabu-hedj seemed quieter than usual and all I could think of was the thousands of wives and girlfriends who felt, as I did, that a part of their hearts were about to be ripped from them. I thought of my own father, then, and it was as if Horus sent a bolt of lightning to illuminate my heart.

  “That is it!” I said, turning back to Djet. The thoughts now raced through my heart. “Yes, yes, that must be it!”

  “What?” Djet asked, catching my enthusiasm and putting his hands on my arms. “What is it?”

  “Oh, for the love of Isis, that is it!” I reached up to touch Wadjet’s face. “It’s my father… and… and perhaps it is yours, too.” I smiled with this new realization as it settled comfortably upon my heart.

  “You are speaking in riddles, Mery.”

  “I know, I know. Here it is, then. I have been so fearful that you will be killed in battle, as was my father. I never knew him except in the dream world. And I sometimes feel as if I hardly know you, I mean really know you. I love you so much, Djet. I love the new life the gods have helped us create. I wish to grow old together, side by side.”

  “Oh, Mery, we will. And we shall have a daughter next, to care for us when we are doddering old fools.”

  With that, Djet took me in his arms and hugged me so tightly I could hardly breathe. “Ow, not so tight!”

  “But I’m not.” Djet replied quizzically, and then I knew that Djet’s father, my beloved uncle, also encircled me, as did my own father and mother, and Herneith. I knew then that Djet would not perish by the sword, for my uncle would watch over and protect him as he was not able to do with his own brother.

  After days of feeling glum, my ba felt light and as soon as Wadjet came to bed I insisted on easing his tensions by massaging his back and shoulders with flax oil. As I rubbed his buttocks, I noted his organ slowly begin to grow and snake out between his thighs. I felt in a mut mood, and so I continued to massage him, moving down past his bottom to his tight bag. He drew his breath in sharply as I gently massaged that sensitive place, alternately teasing his engorged staff. He moaned in excitement before rolling over, wanting me to climb onto him.

  But, although I was tempted, I resisted, knowing how much he enjoyed my putting his member in my mouth. Djet propped himself up on his elbows.

  “No, Mery, come, get on top of me,” Djet begged.

  I pushed him back down, for tonight I wanted this to be only about his own pleasure and told him so. With his penis firmly in my hand and my tongue already darting over his swollen head, he did not argue.

  For the next few minutes, I expertly toyed with him, for I was taught by none other than an Isis priestess. I brought him close to the edge, then playfully did not allow him to reach his final pleasure. He moaned and groaned and recited Horus’ name over and over again, begging me to end his exquisite agony. Finally, when I knew he could take it no longer, I took in as much of his organ as I could and as I withdrew slightly Wadjet arched his body and shot his seed into me so forcefully I could not handle it all. As I held fast to his organ, together we watched its final spasms spurt all over my chin and hair. He fell back onto the bed and we laughed as I wiped his sticky seed from my body.

  Knowing that I sent Wadjet off a satisfied man, I felt fulfilled. I watched for hours as the long line of men and their beasts of burden snaked out into the desert, heading east along the main trade route. Zenty was overjoyed watching the parade of soldiers and supply caravans and he marched around the balcony imitating his father and the soldiers, much to the delight of our relatives. Finally, the expedition passed beyond the mountains and could be seen no more.

  The season of Proyet was fully upon us, so the farmers did not dally watching the procession, but went immediately back to their fields, still planting and tending the young crops of emmer wheat and barley that by now had created a soft green carpet that covered the land from the banks of Mother Nile to the base of the nearby mountains. Looking west the carpet was divided into different sized patches, tiny ones privately owned by rekhi and larger ones owned by merchants who hired rekhi to care for their holdings. But, looking north and south the fields were an uninterrupted carpet of green, for they were the lands owned by King Wadjet and supervised by Nubiti’s hard-working husband, Sekhemkasedj.

  Wadjet had left the Court with clear instructions about what was to be done in his absence. Amka was the administrative ruler whenever Wadjet traveled, and with good cause. Tiny Amka, for he was indeed short and pitifully thin, had served King Djer for fully half his reign and so had the advantage of experience in addition to the wisdom he had cultivated as a respected Horus priest and revered shaman. Amka’s knowledge of law and history was legendary. He could quote a ruling back to King Narmer’s father, King Scorpion. He could cure all manner of disease. But above all he was able to read people better than anyone in the Royal court and as such was invaluable. If there was one piece of advice that Queen Herneith had given me that I treasured above all, it was to suggest that I form a tight bond with Amka. And so we had.

  As the weeks passed one after another during Wadjet’s military campaign, Amka continued to tutor me in matters related to the Royal Court and politics. I had long ago memorized every nome in Egypt, who governed there and the unique political qualities of each ruler and region. Now I learned of the alliances we had throughout our history with the black Ta-Sety tribes to our south.

  We also spent hours discussing the many gods that our people worshipped, for it is true that the rekhi and the privileged each have their own pantheons and that is good for it takes the entire collection of gods to keep ma’at strong in the Two Lands. As a Horus priest Amka spends much time worrying about these matters.

  Every week, we would receive a small delegation of Herihor’s soldier messengers. As soon as they had washed the desert sand fro
m their bodies, they would visit me and Amka, telling us of Wadjet’s mixed progress. Apparently there was much hand-wringing going on, with the Palestinian tribes each denying their involvement in the extortion activity and pledging their undying allegiance to the King. Poor Wadjet was trying to untangle the mess and get to the bottom of the situation, while Herihor and his troops stood by, hopelessly frustrated.

  On one such occasion, as Amka and I awaited the arrival of Herihor’s messenger’s, I noted Amka talking to one of his assistants and instructing him in a mundane administrative matter.

  “It intrigues me that you are able to focus on other matters, when I am so nervous to receive news of my husband. I suppose it is yet another difference between men and women,” I noted, sighing.

  “Perhaps it is,” Amka responded, discharging his assistant with a nod. “But there’s nothing of note… “ Amka blushed and turned from me as if to retrieve his staff.

  “What is nothing of note?” I asked, piqued by his embarrassment, which I found amusing.

  “It is nothing,” he said, tapping his staff nervously.

  “Oh, no, it is not nothing that we waste our time debating, you old goat,” I said, smiling at him. “I know when you withhold, for who else has observed you for twenty years? You know something about what the soldiers will report and you are hiding it.”

  Amka fidgeted for a moment. “Abana is right, you are too headstrong for a woman. And it’s not that I know something, it is that I know there is nothing.”

  “For Ra’s sake, you are being… oooh, this is so frustrating!” I stomped my foot, now angry at our circular dance.

  “What I mean to say is that I know the soldiers will have nothing special to report, nothing different from last week.”

  This intrigued me. I sat down, staring at Amka. “Is this always the case?” I asked. “I mean, all these weeks, do you always know what they will say to us… to me?”

  “Yes,” Amka said firmly, trying hard to keep his head high. I did not know what to make of his response and I sat there, perplexed.

  “Mery,” he began, calling me by my childhood name for the first time since my marriage. “Perhaps this is as good a time as any for a lesson, so listen well. Leaders hate surprises. A good leader knows in advance when a surprise is coming. A great leader learns to manipulate circumstances to his advantage so as to avoid surprises altogether. A truly great leader is the one who surprises others, keeping them dancing to his tune.” I caught a twinkle in Amka’s eyes and found myself absorbing his words and nodding.

  Many are the times that I think back to that day, sitting with Amka, and not only because I did follow his advice throughout my life. No, I recall that day because of the surprise we both received just hours later, the surprise that changed my life forever and with it that of all Kem. For on that very day, just as Ra almost set in the western sky, we received news that my beloved, King Wadjet, brother of Horus, lay dead upon the sands of the Eastern desert.

  SCROLL SEVEN

  Nubiti

  “Dead! You say dead!” I stared at my mother, disbelieving. “Are you certain? Absolutely certain?” I asked in amazement.

  “Yes, I’m certain. The news came from a reliable source. I’m sure that not even Mery knows yet. She’ll probably find out later today. My messengers took a secret route through the mountains to save time.” Mother’s eyes glistened with tears, even though she smiled broadly. “I… I hardly know what to think.” She began to pace before me, one hand entwining the other.

  “The possibilities… they’re enormous,” she continued. My own mind spun with the import of the event. Wadjet, dead!

  “But we are now without the protection of Horus,” mother blurted out, suddenly sending a chill down my spine. I spun on my heels to face mother.

  “And when’ve we ever been under the protection of Horus’ wings?” I asked venomously. “Horus forsook our people long ago. Now these Upper Kemians have even stolen Neith from us. Her-Neith, Mery-Neith, it’s a damned abomination! Neith has always been the goddess of the Delta.” I held fast to the back of a chair and thought for several moments, then stepped forward and took mother in my arms.

  “No, mother, I see now that it’s quite the opposite. It’s the Land of the Lotus that has now lost its patron god and we, you and me and our people, we’ve been given a blessing like… like never before. Our prayers to Apep have been answered. Bakht has worked his magic. The plans we hatched here and the ones we began in Dep have born fruit.” Tears of joy ran down my cheeks.

  I thought back to my furtive meeting with Khnum and Bakht and realized that it was my suggestion that we kindle discord among the Palestinians that led to Wadjet’s military excursion there. My heart skipped a beat and for an instant I felt the bile of guilt rise in my throat.

  “Did you… did we…?” mother began.

  “Don’t be a fool!” I shot back. “Of course not. Murdering him would’ve been too risky. Sometimes the gods themselves enter the drama and then who’s to predict which side will benefit? In this case, the good fortune falls to us.”

  The house was empty of all but my servants. Sekhemkasedj had left before Ra rose, as was his habit every morning. I would not see him again until after Ra set, whereupon he would be so exhausted he would fall into bed, half clothed, a filthy habit that disgusted me. In fact, due to the pressures put upon him and the over abundance of food on the King’s farms, Sekhemkasedj had grown considerably in girth since our marriage to the point that it sickened me to look at him waddling around the house breathing like a pig or snoring so loudly his cheeks shook with each tortured breath. Yet his position within the Royal Court did allow us certain advantages, not the least of which was the fine house in which mother and I now met. Built only a stone’s throw from the palace, it was large with separate servant quarters. It overlooked the King’s southern fields, so that Sekhemkasedj could distract himself with work even when at home.

  “Alright, let’s gather our wits about us and figure out the best course of action. We’ve got no time to lose,” mother said, pacing. “Let’s consider the facts that the gods have laid out before us. First, Wadjet is dead,” mother continued, holding one finger down with her other hand.

  “That gives us seventy days of mourning to maneuver,” I offered, knowing full well that we had to act while Wadjet’s death was fresh.

  “Yes,” mother retorted, “but we must act fast. By the time Wadjet is prepared for his journey to the Afterlife, Amka’s plans will have become actions. Once that happens we’ll all have to live with that reality for years, perhaps a lifetime. We’ve got to help those gods who share our vision and not Amka’s.”

  Just the mention of Amka’s name, and the Horus priesthood he represented, brought chills up and down my spine. Horus was a formidable god and the Horus priests know how to summon his help in times of crisis.

  “We’ll need to enlist Bakht’s help with the Apep priesthood,” I said.

  As if reading my thoughts mother added. “I’ll dispatch my most trusted messenger to Khnum with the news, which means that Bakht will know first.” Immediately I recalled the forbidding tattoo that adorned Bakht’s body and I imagined the mighty essence of Apep slithering up from the underworld.

  “You shiver, I see,” mother noted, “as will Amka and his charlatan priests, for while they’ve grown fat and lazy as vultures over the Two Lands, Bakht and his priests have maintained their discipline in secret.”

  Mother looked at the mud-brick floor as she paced. “So, we have the King dead and the mourning period soon to begin. Zenty is but a year old and unable to reign. Herneith is too old and frail to reign…”

  “By all rights she couldn’t anyway. She’s Queen Mother and Mery now is First Queen,” I noted.

  “True enough, but Mery is twenty years old.”

  “Narmer ascended when he was younger than that.”

  “May his balls be devoured by Apep!” Mother responded angrily.

  “Anyway, being a woma
n Mery can’t be named King. No, we must… wait, give me a moment to think…” I put my hands to my temples and paced along the room’s perimeter. Ra’s light danced across my white flaxen robe as I passed by the columns that formed the archways to the garden.

  “Yes, yes, I think I’ve got it!” I exclaimed after a few moments. Mother turned quickly and rushed back to where I now sat. “Here it is then, here’s what we must do.”

  For the rest of that day, as Ra ended his journey and Herihor’s messengers arrived at the palace with their terrible news, mother and I formulated the skeleton of our plan. True, there was much flesh to add to its bones, but even I, far less experienced in matters such as this as was mother, understood its brilliance. Mother had reminded me many times that the winds of change may bury men alive or expose to them treasures beyond imagining. Only those who prepare can survive or, the gods willing, even prosper.

  Reduced to its simplest, we came to realize that day that we controlled many of the pieces in this unfurling game of state. Unrest here, an unfortunate death or two there, strategically placed spies and well-made alliances could alter the map of Kem forever. That, and the intervention of the gods to whom we prayed.

  There was no way we could realistically make a determined move to take command of Upper Kem immediately, and anyone from Lower Kem who might suggest otherwise, and there were some, was a fool. Nor were we at a point where we could have a caretaker King named from the nomes of Lower Kem. No, our only hope was to view our challenge as a game written on large papyrus sheets, a game that required rewriting all the rules, redrawing the map of Kem to our purpose. Mother thought it grandiose, perhaps even foolhardy when our discussions began, but by the end of the day I saw in her eyes the flicker of promise. As we sketched in one detail after another, that flicker caught fire within our bellies. The death of just one key figure at the right time would sow confusion in the ranks of the ruling elite. The addition of a tax uprising or an attack by our allies would distract the army.