“My Queen, the Horus priests… umm, you are aware that they are the eyes and ears of the King in all godly matters related to the Two Lands.”
“Spies, in simple language,” Amka interjected. Tepemkau blushed deeply.
Tepemkau looked confused, unsure if Amka was joking. “The King is the head of the Two Lands, but a head must have eyes to see and ears to hear and a nose to sniff things out.”
“I understand. Go on,” I offered, trying to ease Tepemkau’s discomfort. As the Chief Priest he was unused to dealing directly with a queen.
“We… by that I mean our priests, are hearing that Shepsit and Nubiti are working hard throughout Kem to advance their idea of a regency council. They are employing Sekhemkasedj to speak with his business contacts. They have given permission for the nobles of Lower Kem to speak loudly in favor of this proposal. Nubiti is secretly using her Isis sisters to place this idea into the hearts of influential women throughout the lands. We fear that unless we act quickly, this idea will take hold and we will be powerless to suggest, or rather to enact, an alternative… to the ascension. The one that we favor, that is.”
“An alternative?” I looked toward Amka. “To ascension?”
“I have not had the opportunity to speak with her yet,” Amka said. “We were to do so yesterday, but the time passed with other urgent matters.”
“Yes, of… of course,” Tepemkau stuttered. “I, uh, was not prepared…”
“Here it is, then,” Amka said, tapping his staff and standing. “Later I will have the Chief Priest detail for you what Shepsit and Nubiti are up to. But here is the most urgent matter. What the Horus priesthood is suggesting, the alternate plan, is that you ascend to the throne.”
Amka said this so matter-of-factly, at first I thought I misheard him. “Who would ascend to the throne?” I asked.
“You,” he replied, holding fast to his staff. I was about to laugh, but when I turned from Amka to Tepemkau, I saw that he held his breath. I knew then that I had heard Amka correctly and that this was no joke. I jumped from my chair, my heart racing so hard I had to clutch my chest. My breath suddenly came in short gasps.
“Wh… what are you saying?” I stammered. “Are you possessed by mut spirits? Both of you… are you mad?” I backed away from them, frightened. The hairs on my neck stood up and I felt a cold sweat creep over my body.
To his credit, whether by experience or inspiration from Horus, Amka sat silently, saying nothing, his eyes closed in what appeared to me to be a peaceful repose. Tepemkau just sat there, rigid as a pole, his eyes wide with fright. This gave me time to compose myself, as I paced along the far wall. Finally, I strode back toward Amka and stood before him.
“Amka, tell me what this is about, what this madness is about. I cannot become King, we… we all know that. I am a woman. I am a mother. You know the history of our people far better than do I. You… and you…” I said pointing at Tepemkau, “know the history of our gods better than anyone else in the Two Lands. I… I have never heard of a woman King. It… it is contrary to ma’at. It is… no one will accept this!”
I took a few steps away from Amka, then turned back. “I will not accept this. This is… oh, I don’t know… this is absurd, it is folly!” Again, Amka remained silent. “Which is why I do not understand how you, the Vizier and my teacher, and you, the Chief Horus Priest of Nekhen can dare to suggest this!”
I now felt my heart racing and my legs begin to give out from under me and so I sat with a thud in the rush chair beside me. “Explain this to me for Horus’ sake!”
For a moment quiet reigned. There was no breeze in the air and the only sounds that were heard were those of the birds in the garden that chirped merrily. As if waking from a dream, Amka slowly released his fingers from his staff and took a long, deep sen-sen breath.
“You are right, my dear Mery. You were always an eager student,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I have searched all the sacred papyruses and there is no mention of a woman being King of Upper Kem. There are stories back into our deep past that tell of women shamans leading small tribes that used to roam the land, but even our oldest scribes have not heard in our oral tradition any story of a female ruler of Upper Kem or even a nome of Upper Kem.” Amka sounded like a defeated man.
I was so perplexed with this conversation that I thought I must be dreaming or else affected by one of the herbs Ti-Ameny had given me after Wadjet’s death. I felt jittery, like I wanted to run from the room.
“And yet, our history is equally clear that rule by one man, and one only, is the way of ma’at, the path to stability and prosperity and might. So you might imagine the difficulties our current situation has presented to the Horus priesthood, for the Kingship derives from Horus. The King is Horus’ son, the god-King incarnate.”
“How, then, can you even consider…?” I started to ask.
“The answer comes from the gods themselves,” Tepemkau responded. “Did not Isis help Osiris to rule? Did she not gather his parts together after he was dismembered by Seth so that his reincarnated self could live forever in the Afterlife?”
“Yes, and more to the point, my dear Mery,” Amka continued, “is your namesake, Neith. She births Ra in the sky every morning and receives him in the evening. She was the first god to emerge from Nun, the ether, the Void of Nothingness. From her sprang all the other gods, including Osiris and Isis and their son, Horus.” I listened, frightened yet fascinated, for Amka helped me to revisit my childhood lessons but now with the added perspective of an adult.
“As a practical matter women manage large households, run temples and own their own businesses in Kem. And there is another issue, Mery, one that is so deep in the teachings of the priesthood of Horus that I can only begin to give you a taste of it’s meaning, for it is not taught except to the most worthy and experienced priests.” I noted that Tepemkau nodded to Amka to continue.
“Men and women each have qualities of the other within their kas. Even their bas reflect this duality, for sometimes a woman becomes as angry as a man and at other times a man can be as gentle and nurturing as a woman. Nowhere is this more of a reflection of the gods than in Neith, your namesake. Yes, she is the Creator goddess, but also the warrior huntress, the fiercest protector of women and children. That is why many of her statues show her holding a shield and a bow and arrows. So…”
“I see your point,” I interrupted, “but even if I may possess certain characteristics of the male ba, it does not make me able to be King. Nor, even if I were able, would I want such an exalted position.”
Amka turned then to Tepemkau, the bags under his eyes so drooped he radiated a profound sadness. He bowed his head for just a moment, then looked directly into my eyes. He sighed deeply and said simply the words that changed my life forever. “Mery, you do not have a choice in this matter. None of us do.”
And so it was that over the next many days, Amka and Tepemkau persuaded, cajoled, argued and educated me to the need for my ascension to the throne of the Red lands of the deserts and the Black lands of Mother Nile’s Delta. There are many events in my life that I can barely recall, significant ones that by all rights should be nearly as clear to me as the day they occurred. Even the incident with that foul-smelling rekhi when I was but a child is nothing more than a vague recollection, more a feeling than a vision. But of those days spent with Amka and Tepemkau, days filled with argument and deep teachings, of resistance and meditation, of understanding and finally acceptance, it is as if my senses were heightened to their highest. I recall every moment, every passage from the holy texts they read me, every facial expression on those two. I can still feel my heart filled with emotions, the depths of which I had not to that point experienced.
And there was yet more, for during those days I truly lost my innocence. In that period I learned the truth about my sister, Nubiti, and her scheming mother and it changed me in ways that I could not have imagined. It hardened my heart. With Amka’s help I learned how to b
uild a wall around me to shield my vulnerabilities and I began to do so. It required of the three of us that we create a new model of communication and that I rethink how I would use the people around me to support my differing needs as a woman, mother and ruler.
I left immediately afterward with Amka and Tepemkau, Abana and Zenty and Ti-Ameny on a three-day voyage up Mother Nile to Nekhen. I loved those times with Zenty, sailing and rowing under Horus’ blue skies, passing verdant fields planted with flax and wheat, the distant red and blue mountains rising to meet Horus from the desert floor. We floated on Mother Nile’s back, with nothing to distract me from fulfilling Zenty’s needs. We told each other stories and laughed so much together my stomach sometimes hurt. One of the King’s guards fished with Zenty every day and the first time my little one happily caught a perch he cried mightily when the guard slit its head and gutted it. Even that ended as a joyful experience, for Zenty ran to my arms, crying, buried his head in my chest and cuddled until he fell asleep under Ra’s disk. Oh, how I treasured those times together.
Yet those times also allowed me time to think and the more I did, the more frightened I became, and the harder my heart beat within my chest. Djet was not here with me. I felt his presence looking out upon us from the Afterlife, but my rock, the man trained to lead Kem since his birth, no longer sat upon the throne. Could I walk even a step in his sandals? Just the thought of that caused me to shiver in fear.
Once we arrived in Nekhen, the pace of life changed and I hardly had time to think even for a moment. In the oldest and holiest of temples in all of Kem, the Temple of Horus, Tepemkau had arranged a series of events that would ultimately lead to my ascension as King, albeit as a regent until Zenty came of age. There were rituals and cleansings, readings and incantations, medicinals and spells all designed to reveal to the Horus priesthood my suitability for my ascension to the throne.
There was a humorous aspect to these preparations, albeit the subject of long and serious discussions among Tepemkau, Amka and Ti-Ameny. That subject was the issue of my circumcision, for it was the custom of all who served Horus, whether priests or Kings, to be ritually cleansed and circumcised. For days the three debated what circumcision might mean in the case of a woman and the debates often became arguments and even shouting matches.
“Yes, I can see the priests demanding that this must be done. They have always been the ones to circumcise the new King,” Tepemkau mused.
“With deep respect, Tepemkau,” Ti-Ameny said, nodding her head ever so slightly. “But I don’t give a donkey’s ass what your priests want. Not one of them will touch the Queen. Besides, in your infinite wisdom of the woman’s body, can you explain to me exactly what it is you would circumcise?”
Tepemkau blushed a deep purple. He was about to attempt an answer, but Amka spoke up.
“Yes, yes, yes, you each have a good argument. Tepemkau, may I suggest that… at least my position is that the Queen is, shall we say, already circumcised… as a practical matter, I mean… if… if you understand my intent?” Tepemkau stared at the floor and nodded vigorously.
Then Amka turned to Ti-Ameny. “Perhaps you could… what I mean is in order to appease those priests who are more insistent, of course… perhaps you could make a light cut… no?... or maybe bring a drop of menstrual blood which… with the proper ceremony, of course, we could say represents something similar to the blood of circumcision, if you understand…”
“Done,” Ti-Ameny said with considerable distaste, but she was not going to pursue a point she had already won.
In the end, unwilling to challenge Amka and Tepemkau, the priests determined that I was already revealed as the leader of Kem and that the gods had played out the events of recent years to just such a purpose. Further, those priests who were also seers promised that I would have an uneventful reign, that Kem would prosper greatly under my regency and that Zenty would become the greatest King to ever rule.
Ti-Ameny, too, had predictions, for as a priestess of Isis her gift of seeing was revealed when she was still but a child. However, Ti-Ameny was reluctant to share her visions with any of the Horus priests, most especially Amka. The two fought almost constantly while we were in Nekhen and it was only many years later that I found out the true reason for their conflict. Ti-Ameny’s visions were troubling, far more so for what she learned about herself than for what they revealed about my rule.
That many of the Horus priests’ rosy visions would prove untrue would come later, in tragedies beyond my imagining, but for now those predictions fed upon themselves and word spread quickly throughout the land that I was to become regent as soon as Wadjet was buried. The reaction in the Royal Court was immediate and the opposition led by Shepsit and Nubiti was furious. My refusal to give them an audience during this time only fueled their anger.
Six days after my return to Inabu-hedj, Wadjet was buried in a simple ceremony. Fewer than twenty-five thousand people came to the funeral. Amka and the priests felt that keeping the numbers down would be prudent, especially as Inabu-hedj was right at the border with Lower Kem. By now I was accustomed to Wadjet’s passing so that the part of the ceremony that pained me most was watching his loyal servants buried with him in a series of unadorned tombs surrounding his funerary enclosure. But I was also comforted knowing that they would accompany him to the Afterlife and serve his needs throughout eternity and thus bring honor to their descendents.
With Wadjet’s body now joined with his ka, Kem was finally free to go about its business. Against the background of this renewed energy, Amka called together his Council of Advisors and informed them of the plans to have me serve as Regent. I arranged an emergency meeting of the Council of Nomes for two days after Wadjet’s burial, but I did not attend that meeting. Instead Amka and Tepemkau told the governors of my regency and implored their support during these unsettled times.
“We find it both peculiar and interesting that none of the governors from Lower Kem asked a question or challenged the decision,” Tepemkau reported afterward.
“What do you make of that?” I asked Amka.
“It is a dangerous situation,” Amka suggested, “for it confirms in my heart that Shepsit and Khnum have already set their plot in motion with the representatives and demons from Lower Kem.”
“How should we react?”
Amka sat silently for a moment. “We have anticipated this and our recommendation is for you to immediately send Herihor into Lower Kem with a division of soldiers on some pretext, just as a show of your power, perhaps coupled with some land grants for Khnum to divide amongst his most loyal princes. It is a matter of fruits and mace heads.”
“But I cannot yet order Herihor to do anything, not until I am made regent.”
Amka turned to Tepemkau. “My Queen, we are planning that as we speak,” the elderly priest said. “Our desire is to do this immediately, before Shepsit’s and Nubiti’s pot boils over.”
“When?”
“On the tenth day following Wadjet’s burial.”
I looked at Amka, thinking that he would correct the Chief Priest’s obvious error. Instead, Amka just sat there, saying nothing.
“But… but that is a mere seven days away!” I said, incredulous.
“There is no time to waste,” Amka said. “We will begin the purification process with you this evening. It will last until the day prior to your ascension.”
“But…”
“The timing is fortuitous,” Amka continued, “for you had your womanly flows eight days ago. Also, as we’ve already discussed, you do not require circumcision, which would take several ten-day cycles to heal. In this case haste is on our side, for then Shepsit and Khnum will be caught off guard and will not be able to react quickly enough. We have told no one of this decision.”
My purifications went uneventfully, all supervised by Ti-Ameny. Each day I was given a concoction of herbs with which I was to internally cleanse my female parts. Each herbal brew was linked to a favored god or goddess. However, on one ma
tter I had a change of heart. I convinced Ti-Ameny to make a tiny cut, just enough to draw blood, in the skin above my pleasure center, so that the holy men, defending my honor and legitimacy, could claim I was indeed circumcised.
Amka and Tepemkau rehearsed parts of the ceremony with me every day, sometimes twice, so that by time the seven days were up I knew every detail of what was to happen. On the day before the coronation ceremony Amka and Ti-Ameny presented me with three benben seeds, crushed into a tea and mixed with honey. I innocently drank the concoction and within an hour felt the most violent cramps I had ever before experienced. Thankfully, Ti-Ameny was by my side and rushed me to the bathroom, where I stayed for the next six hours. As quickly as I defecated, Ti-Ameny forced me to drink copious amounts of water, although I could not understand the sense in that since I was certain I would die anyway. But as quickly as the cramps had started they suddenly ended and my insides were thus fully purified.
Before Ra’s rising on the morning of the ascension I was awakened and given a strong herbal tea prepared by Ti-Ameny under Amka’s direction. They explained it would relax me enough to withstand the demands of the day, as I would not be allowed anything to eat until after the coronation. Ti-Ameny and two assistants then bathed me in the most fragrant water I had ever experienced. Between the herbs and the delicious, spicy and floral scents, all I wanted to do was lay in the water the entire day, inhaling the intoxicating aromas.
I was then dressed in my Queen’s clothing, an elegant fine linen gown, gold jewelry and a small gold crown, through which my hair was woven so that it nearly disappeared into my hairstyle. My nails were done in lush red coloring and my makeup artfully applied so that it was not overbearing. My room was a beehive of activity, the women servants, the priestesses, the artisans all talking, laughing, telling stories to one another. Every so often Ti-Ameny would call out for everyone to calm their bas, but her admonishment would last for only a few moments and once again the cackling would rise.
The Dagger of Isis (The First Dynasty Book 2) Page 14