In another ten-day, Amka and I met to discuss the timing of Shepsit’s appointment as the new Queen Mother. We both agreed to make the appointment by proclamation rather than a Royal celebration, defending our decision by citing the precarious situation in the Two Lands and the effects of the drought.
It was but another few days when Amka requested a meeting with me, Herihor and Tepemkau, who had stayed in Inabu-hedj after Herneith’s funeral. When I arrived the three men were waiting, drinking beer and discussing something animatedly. They bowed as I entered. Both Amka and Tepemkau were unadorned, dressed in their plain linen priests’ robes, while Herihor was dressed in a clean, crisply pressed kilt and sash, with the armband designating his military rank on his bicep. It was embossed with the figure of Sobek, the crocodile god. His dagger and scabbard hung from his belt.
“There are two items I wish to discuss with you,” Amka started, looking at each of us in turn. “I hardly need to remind you that these are perilous times, so I plan to just move into the details, so we can act quickly. I’ve asked Tepemkau to begin.”
“Here it is, then,” Tepemkau began. “When Amka was first informed about poor Irisi’s death many cycles ago, certain elements did not make sense to him. Yet he delayed investigating the matter further due to the many other distractions that arose since that time.” He paused to gauge our reaction. Satisfied, he went on.
“With the recent crush of events, Amka asked me to send a group of Horus priests to locate her gravesite and dig up her remains.”
“To what? That… that is a sacrilege!” I protested.
“Please, Meryt, hear him out,” Amka said in his calmest voice. I sat back in my chair, fuming.
“You are quite right, master,” Tepemkau said. “This is a terrible sacrilege, especially in the case of such a perfect being as Irisi, a gift from Isis herself in mortal form. She was loved by women and gods equally.” Tepemkau coughed into his sleeve and continued.
“We convened a group of senior Horus priests at Amka’s request and listened to his concerns and finally agreed with him that this must be done. We consulted the ancient texts for precedents and we removed her body ceremonially, with deep respect. I was present throughout.” At this I took some comfort.
“Now, you know our priests are experts in preserving bodies, so we know what to expect in a preserved body such as Irisi’s, even though she was only preserved by the dry desert sands. Our priests also include the finest shamans and medicine men in all the lands around us, so we understand how and in what manner various deaths occur.”
“Please make your point, Tepemkau, for the thought of my sister’s body being disturbed while her ka is in the next world is very upsetting to me.”
“Yes, yes, of course. The reports given to Amka… and to you if I remember correctly, were that Irisi died from a viper bite on her calf, a horrible accident that occurred while she walked in the desert. And, in fact, such bites do happen from time to time. Her body was found by her sister priestesses, her face contorted in pain, which is also consistent with a viper bite, since it is a very painful death.”
“Please!” I shouted at Tepemkau.
“I am sorry, but these are critical facts that bear on this case, Meryt-Neith. I will tell you that no bites were found on her calves at all.”
“What are you saying?” Herihor asked, confused.
“There were viper bites, two of them, but they were on the back of her neck, right at the hairline.”
“How could she have been bitten on the neck?” I asked. Tepemkau looked at Amka.
“He’s saying she was murdered,” Herihor said, turning to me. I gasped. “It’s an old method, practiced by the Ta-Tjehenus to kill traitors or reviled enemies.” My body shuddered at the thought of Irisi dying from the poison fangs of an evil mut viper.
“But… who… who would do such a thing?” I asked, confused. “Irisi was a god-mortal.”
Now Amka stood and I could see immediately that he was in pain, probably from a lack of sleep and taking his infamous naps lying stiff as a corpse on the top of his writing table.
“We do not know for certain who did this evil act, but logic would suggest that the finger point to those who benefited most.”
“Nubiti?” I asked in amazement. “No. I realize she has evil inclinations, but…” I quickly caught myself. Silence prevailed.
“Yes, the finger points to Shepsit and Nubiti, but it cannot be them alone. By being here they may be a threat to us through the information they are able to gather, but they are limited in what they can do. They are isolated and hold no real power within the Court. Tepemkau and I have also formulated a plan whereby they will be watched more closely by our network of spies and informers from this point forward.
“No, the real answer lies close to us. Putting together all that has happened in Kem over the past two years points to a far more dangerous cabal. I suspect that Khnum and his evil mut, Bakht, are at work here, for the worship of Apep can twist even the most benevolent spirit.”
“Can anything be done? Should we arrest them and try them for treason?” I asked.
“If Amka is right, if all these rebellions in the Delta and the war in the south are coordinated from the Delta, then arresting Khnum and his evil cabal would make them martyrs and perhaps spark greater rebellion,” Herihor suggested.
“Herihor is correct,” Amka said, “especially since the Apep priesthood has a long history and a defined structure, much like the Horus priesthood. However, Herihor’s words do point to a solution and one that I was remiss in not having recognized before this.” Amka paced a few steps, then placed his hand on his back, trying to straighten himself.
“I am sorry. I am just a bit stiff.” He stretched to his full height, which barely reached Herihor’s shoulders. “Meryt-Neith, it is time to appoint a Chief of the Army. We have been without one since before Wadjet’s death, too absorbed by the drought and the rebellions and the Ta-Sety invasion. We must have a coordinated plan and a military leader who can implement it. And it all must start with decisively quashing the rebellion in the Delta. If we can accomplish that, until Mother Nile again blesses us with fertile floods, all will be well. Our people will not provide fertile ground for Khnum and Bakht if they are well fed and happy. And when Mother Nile floods again we will use the increased treasury to build more granaries and roads and temples.”
“Yes, yes, I had not thought about the need for a Chief of the Army, but you are right.” I turned to Herihor. “And what is your opinion, Herihor?”
“I agree. I would serve Panahasi to my death. He trained me, as he has most of the senior Army officers. He is without equal. All the men respect him.”
“Panahasi is the most senior officer in the army and thus in line to be Chief,” Tepemkau agreed. “I have known him throughout his career. He served in Nekhen for years and improved the training of the soldiers. Wadjet respected him, too.”
We sat silently for a long time and I weighed in my mind what Amka had said. It was true that we lacked a coordinated approach to our security. Beyond the drought and the internal instability, we would eventually need a strategy for providing security for our trade to distant lands. And with the recent war in the south, we needed to bolster our defenses in that part of the country.
“It is settled then, we must appoint a Chief of the Army without delay.” I swallowed hard, for even I could not believe what it was I was about to command. “Amka, prepare to announce Herihor’s appointment.”
As I write these words, I swear that I noted a slight smile come to Amka’s lips, or perhaps it was just a twinkle in his eyes. But the effect of my command was that not a word was spoken for a minute or two. We heard the yells of the servants and gardeners as they toiled below us. To my left I could hear Herihor finally take a breath.
“My master, please excuse me. I think you meant to say Panahasi.” He made a slight laugh in his voice to sound unconcerned. “You used my name, but you meant to say Panahasi.”
“But…” Herihor started to say, before Tepemkau interrupted him.
“What Herihor means to say, Meryt-Neith, is that Panahasi is in line to become Chief. He is the most senior…”
“Yes, I know, you said that before, Tepemkau. But it is in Herihor that I have most confidence. He has won the war against the Ta-Setys, and without the loss of life we expected. He is now the officer who is responsible for training our troops. And, to be candid, the Delta is still a mess despite Panahasi’s most valiant efforts.”
I now turned to Herihor. “Times have changed, Herihor. We no longer fight a war for Unification. Now we fight a more insidious enemy, one who fights in the shadows, who does not engage on the battlefield. Old methods are no longer effective. I need a vigorous Chief, one who can adapt to changing conditions. It is not that I am displeased with Panahasi’s loyalty, only his performance. It is you who I choose to lead my army, who I command to lead it.”
Herihor, to his credit, just sat there, saying nothing. He did not presume to argue his case any further. It was then that Amka spoke.
“The King has spoken, Herihor, and in this case I must admit, that while it departs from our usual practice, I agree with Meryt-Neith’s judgment. The King must handpick a new Chief, one he has confidence in, and one who is unapologetically loyal to him… or her. You are the King’s choice. You must either accept or decline… now.”
The quiet that followed was thick with anticipation. Herihor leaned forward in his chair and sunk his head between his massive shoulders. I could only imagine what went through his heart. I was not naïve enough to disregard the fact that he even weighed the unpleasant thought of being the first general ever to serve a woman king. That situation would certainly, repeatedly, test both his authority and his manhood as it reared its ugly head throughout his service. Finally, after minutes of silence, Herihor stood up, placed his right forearm across his chest, and bowed to one knee, his head bent.
“I accept your appointment, my master, even though I feel unworthy of such an honor. I will serve you faithfully and honorably and defend Kem from all enemies, whether internal or external and I will happily sacrifice my life in such service.”
I smiled at this man who knelt before me. “Hopefully that will not be necessary, loyal servant of Horus, for we will need your service for many years to come. You serve me now in my role as Regent and so will need to swear to serve the one and only true King, Zenty, son of Wadjet, when he comes of age. Do you so swear, Herihor?”
“I do, master.”
“Then rise and go about your duties, my loyal Chief. Discuss with Amka and Tepemkau what your needs are so that they may put them in place prior to the appointment.
“And one other matter. The discussions here must remain private, not to be shared with another under any circumstances, until I have a chance to speak personally with Panahasi. Are you in agreement?” They quickly gave their assent.
And so it was that I made my first real decision as King and one that I hoped I would not regret. In fact, despite my concerns over the repercussions of my decision, just to have decided rested comfortably in my ba. Later that day, after I had kissed Zenty goodnight and told him the story of creation for the hundredth time, Ti-Ameny came in to tell me that Amka was here to see me. It was a rare occasion for Amka to visit with me after Ra’s disk set in the sky. As soon as Zenty fell asleep I went to the parlor to find Amka sitting in his meditative pose, his eyes closed, his back straight and his hands clasping his ornately carved staff.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” he said without opening his eyes. After pleasantries he got right to the point. “I have spent the rest of the day with Herihor and Tepemkau, planning. But I did not want to wait until tomorrow to tell you how very proud I am of what you did today. That took great courage and insight.” Amka was not one to easily compliment, so I felt pleased and slept well that night.
In seven days, I was in Merimda, just a two-day sail downriver from Inabu-hedj, at a point where Mother Nile splits into many smaller rivers to form the Black Lands of the Delta. Amka had arranged our trip as a review of the troops, but in reality it was to have the meeting I dreaded with Panahasi. When I was a child Panahasi frightened me, for he was a large man with a big belly and a deep, booming voice. When he and my uncle began drinking, my aunt would scoop me up and carry me to a different area of the palace, for they had a reputation for getting rowdy and profane when drunk.
The meeting was a difficult one for both of us, for despite his gruffness Panahasi is a good man, loyal to Kem and a dutiful servant. I had requested that Amka leave us alone. We discussed his family, all of whom lived in a small village near Nekhen, before we turned to the rebellions and incursions in the Delta. Panahasi had aged in the last few years, so that his breath was labored and he groaned whenever he sat or stood. This only made me feel more secure in my choice. Yet I dared not disrespect Panahasi by delaying the inevitable any longer.
“Panahasi, you know we have been without a Chief of the Army since Wadjet’s death and…”
“You need not go any further, Mery, for I would be honored to serve in whatever capacity you command. I am prepared to take over the reigns as Chief as soon as you issue the decree.” He said this and struggled to stand before me at attention.
I was astonished. No matter how many times I had rehearsed this conversation in my heart, I was totally unprepared for his response. I wanted to talk, and I was conscious of my lips trying to move, but I was rendered speechless. My mind raced for a way out of this impasse.
“Dear Panahasi, please… please sit down,” I said, pointing back to his chair. “I fear I have moved too quickly here. Let me…umm…let us back up a bit.” I struggled for the right words.
“You have been a loyal, fearless soldier for your entire life. I know from reading the scrolls of your many valiant battles, of how you trained the troops, of how much you are respected by your men and the Horus priests.” By now, Panahasi knew that something was wrong, for he stared at me with a quizzical expression.
“I have decided to do something bold and not in keeping with tradition and, therefore, a path fraught with risk. I have decided that we need to go in a new direction, Panahasi. I have decided to appoint Herihor as the new Chief of the Army.” Poor Panahasi fell back in his chair as if I had hit him with a mace.
“Well, this… this is certainly not in keeping with tradition. I… I do not know what to say… I…”
“Panahasi, I will need your support in this matter. Herihor will also need your support. You are too old a soldier, too experienced, to simply be cast aside. I need you to show support for this choice and I will give you every opportunity to handle it in a way that accomplishes that.”
Panahasi looked confused. “What do you mean by that?” he asked.
“Well, I was just thinking that if you would rather the scrolls reveal that I first offered the job to you, but you refused due to your desire to retire, I would make that so. I will also see that you are suitably rewarded.”
“Ah, so that’s the picture,” Panahasi said and for the first time he stared at me with such a penetrating look I thought his anger would get the better of him. “So why didn’t you say that you just wanted to kick me out, instead of shaming me as you’ve done?”
“That was not my intention, Panahasi.”
Now he stood again and paced aggressively toward my elevated chair. “As for you, Mery…”
“Panahasi! You will call me Meryt,” I said icily and he stopped in his tracks. Thus we stared at each other for several seconds. I tried not to breathe hard, but I was running out of air.
“Fine, Meryt-Neith, King Regent of the Two Lands,” and he bowed slightly as he coldly said those words. “You were a spoiled brat child then and a bastard ruler now. I’ve been worried as to how I’d serve you as Chief of the
Army, and now you’ve solved that problem. So, here it is. I resign. Have the almighty scrolls read whatever way you’d like, for I don’t give a damn!”
“You will watch your tongue in the King’s presence, whether Regent or not!” I said to him firmly, pointing a finger right at him. He breathed in such a labored way I feared for his life. Yet, whatever negative I might say about Panahasi, despite the many troubles he gave me in later years, he was still a soldier through and through. In seconds he regained his composure, stood up straight, saluted me with his forearm to his heart, turned around and stormed out of the tent.
I left Amka in Merimda to deal with Panahasi and sailed back to Inabu-hedj to be with Zenty. I tried to put the discussion with Panahasi behind me, but it kept me up a night and gave me much pause to think whether or not I had made the right decision after all.
In a ten-day, just after Amka returned, I had occasion to meet with Ti-Ameny regarding Zenty’s care and also to answer Ti-Ameny’s quizzing about my health, which she constantly worried about. When we had finished, Ti-Ameny just sat there, drumming her fingers on the table next to her. I finished eating my dates.
“Is there something else?” I asked.
“Yes, one more thing… a petty issue really, but one I thought you’d best know.”
“Yes, go ahead.”
“Well, it… perhaps it is improper to speak of this, Mery, but I have heard a rumor… well, two rumors actually, concerning General Herihor.” Here she paused to gauge my reaction.
“Go ahead.”
“Well, I am not asking whether or not it is true that he is to be the new Chief of the Army. It is just that I understand that Nubiti is highly upset about the possible appointment.”
I thought for a moment as to how to respond to Ti-Ameny’s information, but I immediately saw the complexity in the situation and decided to not discuss it further. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Ti. I know you do not like to spread rumors and I appreciate the way you have handled it.”
The Dagger of Isis (The First Dynasty Book 2) Page 19