The Dagger of Isis (The First Dynasty Book 2)

by Lester Picker

  “Blesses or curses him with it,” I thought aloud.

  “Hmmm, that’s an interesting thought. I see what you mean. But assuming he does gain the vision, it will give him the direction he needs to lead. It will add force and rightness to his decisions. He will be a great leader of a great nation.”

  “Yes, if…” I sighed. “If, if, if.”

  By now Ra’s light had faded and we had ambled back to the entrance to the ravine. Two of Herihor’s guards saluted us. We rounded the mountain’s base and my tent glowed with the candles that my servants had lit for me. Ra had set over the mountain, but his last light faintly lit the sky. It had been the perfect day, with few demands on me other than my loves. My loves. The thought hit me just as we approached the entrance to my tent.

  If I were possessed by mut demons of the desert I could have excused my behavior, but I was not. I turned to Herihor and as I looked into his eyes my body burned with desire for the first time since Wadjet’s death. I felt an ache inside me to kiss him, to have him take my body and to feel him inside me. I slowly put my hand up to his face to gently touch his scar.

  Herihor reached out to hold me and then, in an instant, it was over. He withdrew his arms, my hand still reaching for him, and turned away from me.

  “Oh, Horus! I… I cannot do this,” he said, his voice anguished. He turned back and came close to me. “Mery, there is nothing more that I would want than to hold you in my arms. I have dreamed of this moment, ” he said, reaching out, once again, before dropping his arms. “But Wadjet was… he was my closest friend. I cannot name the times we fought together, drank together, even… yes, even whored together before he wedded you.” Herihor’s brow was furrowed and he hung his head as if in shame.

  “I understand, my dearest Herihor,” I whispered.

  “Mery, I held his hand as he drew his last breath. I yet pray every day for his happiness in the Afterlife.”

  A strange feeling came over me in that moment. It was as if Isis stood next to me and opened our wounded hearts to each other to be healed, for did I not feel the very same way about my beloved Wadjet? And yet I also experienced the unadulterated joy, even if only for a few moments, of once again being a woman, and only a woman. Being with Herihor I did not have to play the roles of Queen or King or Regent, roles that sucked energy from my ka and twisted my ba into personalities I hardly recognized as the true me. And so we left it.

  The next day I was scheduled to leave for Nekhen to make appearances for the Sed Festival. Amka appeared at my tent to escort me the very next morning and we left without Herihor seeing me off. I assumed he was to meet my boat on the other side of Mother Nile, but he did not show up there either. I found out later that day from Amka that he was called away during the night to attend to a military matter, but I was not concerned by his absence, for Isis had revealed to me what lay in his heart.

  In normal years the Sed Festival was one of the happiest festivals in Upper Kem. It had been practiced for generations before even King Narmer. It was the annual celebration of the King’s renewal, for our people wisely believe that both the gods and the King lose some of their power during the course of ruling the Two Lands. Each year during Sed we renew our power.

  On Ra’s appearance the next morning, we set out from Mother Nile’s shore, as surely a symbol of rebirth as ever there was. Yet this year she flowed past a much wider and higher embankment than usual. A throng of dignitaries, merchants, artists and scribes cheered for me when I arrived, although I thought less heartily and with far less passion than they might have. The Apis Bull was waiting for me, restrained in a halter by four large Horus priests.

  “We begin immediately,” Amka said, “before the heat of the day.” He leaned closer to me. “And remember, it would appear unseemly to run. You are a mother now as well as King.”

  The bull was pulling at his restraints and from his mouth hung long strings of drool. Every so often he would shake his head and the drool would fly in all directions, to the amusement of the crowd. I received many of the dignitaries as we waited to start the festival.

  “Ah, here comes Zenty,” Amka remarked.

  “Zenty? What is he doing here?” I asked, surprised.

  “He will be along with you, carried by servants on a platform.”

  “Why… why have you not told me of this before?”

  “It is nothing, Mery, just a formality. We will discuss this later if that is alright with you, for the festival route is lined with revelers who have waited through the night.” And so we began the processional designed to prove the King’s strength by pitting it against the King’s Apis bull incarnation. Throughout the route people cheered and shouted, yet I saw them on tiptoes and hiking children onto their shoulders and pointing to Zenty’s platform, too. Then I realized the purpose of Zenty’s company.

  “That was no formality!” I shouted at Amka the next day during our daily meeting. “You did that to… to…”

  “I did it because the nobles were clamoring to see the future King,” Amka answered. “You really should work at not being so childish about your objections,” he added condescendingly.

  “Do not talk to me that way, Amka!” I responded angrily. “I know the real reasons. They still do not trust me. Despite our laws some still do not believe a woman is equal to a man, as if having some ridiculous protuberance hanging between ones legs makes one better able to govern. Or that breasts make one less able to rule.”

  “It’s not…”

  “And don’t you forget that every one of you… you and the one-eyed muts you carry around between your legs, has suckled at a woman’s breast. Your attitude infuriates me!” I stormed off to stand at the palace’s overlook. Below me Mother Nile flowed tranquilly. In a few minutes Amka joined me.

  “Mery, you know Tepemkau and I supported your ascension. We…”

  “Yes, I know,” I said in a more conciliatory tone. “I’m sorry I lashed out against you, dear teacher. I know I rule as Zenty’s Regent, but I also know that to rule the Two Lands is less exalted than those outside these walls imagine. I beg your indulgence for what I am about to say, but either man or woman can be King, it makes no difference, for it is the Horus priests who hold the real power anyway.”

  “Mery, I…”

  “No, no, don’t bother to explain that away, dear friend. I have given much thought to it and it is probably as it should be. People’s bas differ and one king’s wishes might reverse ten kings before him, so the Horus priests must vigilantly and consistently defend ma’at. I see the stability they bring to our land. I have come to see how the festivals, the prayers, the sacrifices, the holy scrolls, how you tie them all up into a neat knot that protects us from the chaos that might otherwise result.” To his credit, Amka just bowed his head and remained silent. Nothing further was said about it.

  As was our tradition, I spent the following days in seclusion, participating in ritual cleansings and meditations. When that was over I entertained petitions from many of our elite regarding access to trade routes, exclusive rights to sell certain types of goods, even payments to the Royal treasury in exchange for favorable placement of tombs in the Royal necropolis. By the end of the ten-day I was weary and wished to escape from the non-stop procession of people and favors.

  I had heard that Herihor was still on his so-called military mission, whatever that was. I realized that I missed the quietude of the desert and so I instructed Ti-Ameny to prepare us for another stay. My tent still stood in its spot and for the next three days I walked the paths that Herihor had shown me, sometimes with Ti-Ameny and at other times alone.

  On the third afternoon I hiked alone part way up the blue mountain in order to meditate and surprisingly found a cave with a huge entrance. The cave was shallow, no more than five or six cubits deep, but at least fifty cubits high. Its ceiling held a small assortment of bats and I noted evidence of the cave having been previously used. The charred remnants of a small fire lay in front of a boulder in the middle of th
e cave. The entrance overlooked the valley and the surrounding mountains. Far below me I saw my tent and my servants going in and out with food and clothing.

  I spread out my meditation blanket and sat on the boulder, crossed my legs and began to meditate as Amka had taught me to do. It was only then that I heard for the first time the true silence of the desert. There were no people talking at me, no leaves rustling on trees, no water flowing beneath my feet, no wind blowing through palace rooms. Silence. Utter, complete, the perfect silence of Nun.

  I closed my eyes and breathed, conscious of my breath in a way I had never before experienced. I could feel every part of my breath entering, circulating in my lungs, and leaving through my mouth and nostrils. I could feel Horus’ strength and spirit moving within me. It was spiritual. It was sensual. I felt rejuvenated, reborn.

  “I see you have found my spot,” he whispered, yet his presence did not startle me. “May I join you?” I shook my head and he sat next to me, our knees touching. For the next few minutes- or was it hours?- we meditated together, sharing our breath, our kas intermingling. When I opened my eyes, Ra’s dim light was fading quickly.

  “I come here when I need solace, when the burdens of leading men to die in battle weighs heavily on my shoulders,” Herihor said softly.

  “Is it you who lit the fire?” I asked.

  “No. The desert wanderers introduced me to this spot. They seek refuge here from time to time.”

  We sat in silence watching Ra’s orb sink further until the mountains across from us were black silhouettes. When I turned to Herihor, his body was half-turned and he looked at me with an expression of longing. For the second time I reached out to him, but this time he did not resist. I looked deeply into his eyes in the fading light. We kissed then, tenderly.

  “Master, this… do you really… do you want to do this?” he pleaded, leaning back from me.

  “I am hardly your master, Herihor, for exactly the opposite is true. There is nothing I would rather do than please you.” I took his hand and drew him to me.

  Oh, how Isis entered my ba that night! Before that night Wadjet had been my only intimate companion and I had always considered him a good lover, kind and gentle. That I was blessed with two wonderful lovers in my life I only came to learn later was rare, indeed.

  Never before had I been kissed so passionately, our lips and tongues thirstily exploring each other. More than once Herihor pulled away to be sure that I was comfortable with what we did and in each instance my reaction left no doubt as to my intent.

  Herihor lifted me off the boulder. We spread out my blanket and kneeled face to face. I took the straps of my gown off my shoulders and let it drop. Herihor’s eyes opened wide as he took in my body. He quickly stood and removed his dagger belt and kilt. Standing before me he left nothing to my imagination as to his desires.

  He dropped back down to his knees and in that position we embraced each other. The feel of his skin against mine, the press of his chest against my breasts, my nipples exquisitely sensitive, was so erotic I shuddered.

  “Is something wrong?” Herihor asked in alarm.

  “No, no, nothing at all. I have waited so long for this moment,” I whispered.

  Herihor wrapped me in his massive arms and kissed me deeply, moving his hands over my back and buttocks. His cock was so engorged I had to grab it to keep it from poking by stomach. He gasped with pleasure and gently moved his hand between my thighs.

  I was so slippery, his finger slid in immediately. Yet he did not persist and instead gently caressed my pleasure spot, until I begged him to enter me. He grabbed me around my waist and, still kneeling, picked me up and slipped inside me as I wrapped my legs around him. Thus we rocked back and forth, kissing passionately, both of us moaning with pleasure.

  I cannot recall how many times Herihor brought me to the heights of pleasure as we rolled on the blanket that night. We both dripped with sweat and yet could not get enough of each other. Finally, Herihor, arched his back and shot his seed into me again and again, before collapsing onto his back.

  That is how Herihor and I became lovers, that night and the following night and the nights after that for the more than two ten-days that I stayed in the desert. They were wondrous days and nights, filled with passionate discourse about desert life, visions and leadership, yet even more passionate lovemaking in my tent or under the lights of the gods.

  Finally, Amka sent a message that it was time to return, for Nekau was due to arrive within the next ten-day. I was reluctant to leave, yet I recognized my responsibilities. I knew that to mortar Narmer’s vision would require great efforts over the next several years and Nekau might prove critical to their success. Still, shortly after I returned to Nekhen I fell ill. Amka, who every year dreaded Shomu for the illnesses the hot, sticky weather bred, blamed my illness on returning to the crowded and stale air of Nekhen. He gave me herbs to quell the nausea and sniffling.

  On the fifth day after my return to the palace in Nekhen, just after the mid-day meal, Amka appeared. “And how is my patient?” he asked.

  “Between you and Ti-Ameny and your foul potions, I can hardly eat or sleep. But, yes, my symptoms are better.”

  “Good, because Nekau’s entourage arrived last night,” he said, a pleasant expression on his face. “He is refreshed and waiting for your audience.”

  “And what has put your usually dour face into such a pleasant countenance?” I asked, teasing him.

  “You will see,” he replied. “Shall I ask him in?”

  “Yes, of course,” I answered.

  “Good, we will meet in the Great Hall,” which I found amusing, since everything in Nekhen was built on a far smaller scale than in Inabu-hedj.

  When I arrived at the hall, I ascended to the throne chair and sat. Amka was there, as was Herihor, several high-ranking priests and six of my King’s Guards, all dressed in their formal leather, spears at the ready, waiting to honor the visitors. Amka waved to Semni, who left the hall. When he returned, a delegation that included Tepemkau followed him.

  When my eyes fell on Nekau, I gasped. Never had I seen a man of such gigantic proportions, nor of such intense blackness that at first I could only make out his eyes. He easily stood at least two heads taller than Herihor, the next tallest in the room. I heard the creak of Herihor’s leather as he tensed.

  Nekau was younger than I had imagined and he was dressed in leopard skins, with a necklace made of lion and hippopotamus teeth. He wore a gold band around his left bicep and I noticed at once that it carried Narmer’s serekh of the catfish and chisel, such a rarity that the only other one I had ever seen was in the Temple of Horus in Nekhen. His sandals were woven with gold thread and around his ankles he wore gold jewelry and feathers.

  When he approached my elevated chair I still had to look up to him. He stopped before me and bowed low and stayed that way.

  “You… you may arise,” I said tentatively, my throat suddenly dry. As he did so he had a huge smile on his face. That smile triggered a vague recollection and in the moment of silence that followed, I recognized that I was reliving Narmer’s first meeting with Meruka, Nekau’s great-grandfather, just as Narmer had described it in his scrolls. That our bloodlines were connected so far in the distant past made me shiver.

  Nekau’s eyes were set deep and when he looked at me they gave him the impression of being very intense.

  “Welcome, Nekau,” I said, holding open my arms in tribute. “I appreciate the long journey you have made to offer me counsel.”

  Nekau bowed his head and when he straightened he again stared deeply into my eyes, such that I felt uncomfortable. To my side I again heard the rustle of Herihor’s leather breastplate.

  “May I approach my master?” Nekau strangely asked. I glanced at Amka for a clue as to the protocols of these dark people, but Amka just shrugged his shoulders.

  Without waiting for an answer, Nekau took two steps forward, reached out his long arms and grabbed my shoulders. Herihor’s r
eaction was immediate. In a flash he held a dagger to Nekau’s throat and in another instant all six of the King’s Guards had a spear pointed at Nekau’s ribs.

  Frightened though I was, I shook my head at Herihor. Nekau shut his eyes tight and began to sway slightly and a deep guttural, animal-like moan came from his throat. Herihor looked frantic. I saw Nekau open his eyes and then they rolled back in his head and the next thing I know I lay on the floor, my face being slapped gently by Amka while Semni held my head. I vaguely heard a commotion in the hall and then I passed out again.

  I learned later that night that as I passed out Herihor rushed Nekau and arrested him. That he did not kill him outright amazed me, for I heard he was incensed at Nekau’s audacity to lay hands on me. Amka, too, was surprised by the behavior and sent Tepemkau to speak with him. Nekau, for his part, surrendered meekly, appearing dazed and confused by the entire sequence of events, according to those who witnessed his actions.

  The next morning I still felt sick, but improved from the night before. When I got up from bed I had none of the dizziness. I had hardly finished bathing and dressing when Amka appeared with Tepemkau.

  “We have spoken with Nekau and we believe the entire thing was a misunderstanding,” Tepemkau began. “While Nekau is a Horus priest, that colony also carries on traditions of its parent land. Apparently his touching you was to be part of a blessing that somehow went awry.”

  “He wishes to apologize and see if he can repair any damage that may have been done,” Amka said. “I suggest we meet again immediately.”

  “I am not sure,” I said. “You two did not prepare me adequately for that meeting. His… stature… I was surprised.”

  “You are quite right,” Amka answered. “We were not prepared either. Yet I continue to believe that Nekau and his people can play an important role in keeping the southern border secure. We should give the relationship another chance.”

  I agreed to a meeting that afternoon and this one went smoothly, with no incidents. We drank beer together, broke bread, and spent hours in discussion learning about our different cultures. Nekau told one story after another about his great-grandfather, for their tradition is an oral one, not written down like we do in Kem. Herihor, once he relaxed, was eager for every tidbit Nekau could provide about Narmer and Meruka.