by Jerry Dubs
I Set the River Afire
“Bintanath, we will soon pass three tall rocks along the right-hand shore. When you see them, pull the tiller hard to your left,” I shouted. “Pairy,” I said, stripping off my shendyt, “take this and wet it. Panehesy, when the boat begins to turn we will approach the river bank. The flood is raising the water, so we should be able to find someplace to beach the boat.”
“What are you doing?” Turo asked.
Pairy took my shendyt and, leaning over the side of the boat, he soaked the cloth in the roiling water.
“When we land…, ” I began to answer. The boat shuddered. Wood scraped over rock, and suddenly water began to bubble through the hull.
As I looked to the growing pool of water inside the boat, Panehesy waved his arms. “We are past the standing rocks. There is an opening to the right. Turn!” he shouted.
Bintanath pushed the tiller and the boat swung toward the bank.
“Row hard,” Kebu shouted to Turo. The warrior and the charioteer leaned forward, dug their oars into the water and pulled. Fighting the fierce current, the boat moved toward the river’s edge.
Sloshing through the water that was growing deeper in the boat, Pairy staggered back to me with the soaked shendyt in his hands.
“Panehesy,” I said, stooping to lift Bintanath’s basket of oil jars, “guide us ashore. Pairy, as soon as we touch land, grab the firepot — use the shendyt to keep your hands from burning. You and I are going ashore. We’ll run upriver to the spot that is protected by the three boulders.”
“Then what?” Pairy asked.
Before I could answer, the boat gave a final lurch as its bow nosed onto the muddy bank.
***
Carrying the basket of oils, I stepped past Panehesy and into the soft mud beneath the swirling river. My lead foot sank into the muck and I staggered. Bobbing on the angry river, the boat turned with the current and pushed against my unsteady legs.
The impact pushed me off balance. Clutching the oil basket to my chest, I began to fall. Suddenly a hand gripped my arm and steadied me. Turning, I saw that Panehesy had jumped from the boat and was standing beside me, bracing me from the boat’s movement. Behind us, Kebu eased into the chest-deep water on the downriver side of the boat. Searching for footing in the soft river bottom, Kebu leaned against the boat, keeping it from drifting.
As I waded ashore, Panehesy turned and took the fire bowl from Pairy who was standing on the boat.
On solid ground now, I turned to see Panehesy stagger toward me, the glowing pot of coals, wrapped in the wet linen, pressed to his chest.
“Hurry,” I said, turning to jog upriver.
***
Running, I kept my head turned toward the river watching for the path that I knew must lead toward the river and the standing stones.
“Where are we going,” Panehesy asked, his voice faint from exertion.
“Here,” I said, spotting a faint path of worn, brown dirt leading through the grass. I followed the trail carefully, but worried that each moment gave the pursuing Medjay warriors more time to pass the ambush I was planning.
I followed the path to three stones that formed steps leading to the swirling water.
Stepping onto the stones, I checked each carefully, worried that it might have been loosened by the flood.
Reaching the third stone, I saw the wide ledge where the boys had been sitting. I set the oils on the stone and turned to help Panehesy onto the outcropping.
“Take off your shendyt. Tear it into strips,” I said. As the older scribe untied the belt that secured his kilt, I steadied myself against the tall boulders and leaned toward the water.
Khonsu remained hidden, but the million stars were watching from Nut’s belly. Their light fell on an angry, swirling river. Constrained by impassive banks, obstructed by silent stones, the river roared as it attacked the rocks of the cataract.
“Here,” Panehesy said, “Do you see them?”
“No,” I said, fearing that the pursuing boat had already passed this spot. I took the strip from Panehesy and knelt by the jars. “Soak the strips in the oils, then stuff one end of each into the jars.”
“What are we doing?” Panehesy asked, taking a linen strip and pouring oil onto it.
“Calling fire from the sky,” I said. Then I paused. Tilting my uninjured ear toward the water, I asked, “Do you hear singing?”
Panehesy shook his head. “All I hear is water.”
***
“Here,” Panehesy said a few moments later.
The older scribe who handed me a ceramic jar, a linen strip stuffed into the jar’s narrow mouth. The tail of the strip, wet with oil, clung to the side of the jar.
Kneeling by the fire pot. I lifted the free end of the strip and touched it to the glowing coals.
Nothing happened.
Leaning to the pot, I blew gently on the coals. They flared red and suddenly the oil-soaked cloth caught fire. The flames gathered strength and began to burn toward the opening of the jar.
Heart pounding, I stood and turned toward the river.
I was sure that I could hear singing now, a low, rumbling tune that floated over the roar of the river.
I glanced at the linen strip. The flames were only a finger’s width from the mouth of the jar.
Raising my arm, I threw the jar into the river.
It struck a rock. With flames dancing on it, the oil fled the broken bottle.
***
“Stop rowing!”
I heard the shouted command over the river’s roar.
Leaning toward the river, I saw the Medjays’ boat. The men were back-rowing, trying to keep the wooden boat from the flames that had spread across the water.
I threw another lit jar.
This one struck the prow of the boat. Shattering, it spread fire over the deck.
I threw a third jar. It landed on the burning deck and broke, adding its oil to the fire.
“Panehesy, don’t bother lighting the strips” I said, seeing the fire begin to feed on the wood of the boat’s deck. “Just hand me the largest jars.”
As the flames spread on the boat, which was almost directly in front of me now, I threw another jar. When the jar broke, the oils splattered on a body that lay on the boat deck. The fire followed the oil, crawled onto the dead man and spread across his flesh.
Panehesy nudged me and handed me another jar.
When the jar broke, it sprayed oil on one of the rowers. I watched the man wipe his leg, trying to remove the oil, but the flames followed and began to feed on him. He stood, screamed and stamped his burning feet against the boat.
Suddenly the giant Medjay Kyky stepped from the prow of the boat and shoved the burning man off the deck.
The burning boat turned sideways now, and the current pushed it against a pair of rocks. Trapped between the river and the rocks, the boat groaned and shuddered.
Holding an unlit oil jar in my hand, I watched the boat buckle. The hull surrendered with a shattering sigh, the boat collapsed, and the two remaining Medjays fell into the water.
With flames still dancing on them, the wooden remains of the boat swirled downriver.
I closed my eyes and thanked Hapi.
“They are gone,” Panehesy said, his voice colored with disbelief and with praise.
“Yes,” I said.
Standing motionless on the rocks as the river rose over our legs, we watched the black water swarm over the rocks, washing away the oil and the flames and the pursuing warriors.
***
Climbing from the rocks that lined the river, we heard a scream.
I turned back toward the water, expecting to see one of the Medjay warriors rising from the river. But I saw only darkness splashed by white sprays from the river.
I raised a hand to my bandaged ear. Fingers resting on the half-severed ear, I imagined it a touchstone. I hoped that it would bring me solace, that it would remind me of the death that I had faced and that it would allow me to accept that
I had taken the lives of four men.
But I felt only the sodden bandage and beneath it a painful tenderness that reminded me of the fragile hold I had on my own life.
I glanced once more at the river. Even beyond the cataract the river would have become wild and unnavigable for our small boat and skills. Which didn’t matter, because I was sure our boat was as broken as the Medjay boat.
“We will have to walk from here,” I said, nodding toward the higher ground.
Carrying the glowing fire pot, Panehesy turned and climbed from the rocks to the dry bank.
I picked up the basket and followed Panehesy to safety.
***
We had just reached the solid, dry bank when I heard another low scream, but this one a shout of anger, not pain. It came from the path that led downstream along the river.
Panehesy dropped the fire pot and began to run. His face was turned to look up the trail toward the scream, which was growing louder.
Now, emerging from the darkness, I saw the giant Kyky running toward us.
One of his hands dangled from his side, the other clutched a huge rock.
The giant’s attention was on Panehesy, whose movement had turned him into a target.
Setting the basket on the ground, I picked up the larger of the two remaining oil bottles. Heart pounding, I ran in front of the charging giant.
As it had when my ear was being severed, time slowed for me once more.
I saw the blur of the Medjay’s legs rising and falling. I heard the warrior’s heavy breathing, and I saw the rage in the man’s eyes. I saw the gray rock in the giant’s hand and the awkward swing of his other arm.
Confident that the gods were guiding my actions, I stared into the Medjay’s eyes.
I raised my arm and gripped the oil jar.
Suddenly the gods deserted me and time resumed its rapid march.
Kyky’s left hand swept through the air.
I swung my arm forward to smash the jar into the Medjay’s face, but his massive fist knocked my arm aside. A blur to my eye, the Medjay’s forearm crossed by my face and the rock in his hand glanced off my head.
Lights flashed and then Geb pulled me downward and the giant ran past me.
Smelling blood and dirt, I pushed myself onto my hands and knees.
Although the air around me swirled, I gathered my feet beneath me and stood, spreading my arms to still the spinning.
As the spinning slowed, I looked into the darkness where Panehesy had fled.
A form was approaching.
It was too large to be Panehesy and so I commanded my feet to flee, but they were overwhelmed trying to keep me balanced upon the twisting back of Geb.
The dark shape gathered weight and became Kyky.
He carried a rock in his left hand. Blood dripped from the rock.
“No,” I said, forcing my tongue to action. “I must return to the Two Lands. I must find Queen Menwi. I have made a promise.”
Kyky was at me now.
I saw that his face was battered, one eye shut above a misshapen cheek, and his right shoulder was held awkwardly. Fighting the fear that spread through me, I searched Kyky’s hard eyes, looking for an emotion or a question or a weakness.
I saw only dull, animal anger — remorseless, unreasoning, unrelenting.
Kyky raised the rock overhead.
As I fought to make my feet move, another shadow emerged from the darkness.
The shadow flew through the air and wrapped its arms around Kyky, squeezing the giant’s dislocated shoulder. Screaming in pain, Kyky swung the rock at the intruder. It struck the man’s back and fell from Kyky’s hand. I heard a grunt, and then a gasping shout: “Run!”
“Kebu!” I said, recognizing the voice.
Roaring, Kyky twisted his body trying to shake free of Kebu’s grip.
Kebu wrapped his arms tighter around the giant’s thick waist and dug his feet into the earth, trying to wrestle him off balance.
Kyky raised his uninjured arm overhead and brought his elbow down onto Kebu’s neck. The blow knocked Kebu to his knees. As his arms slid down to Kyky’s legs, Kebu leaned into the giant and gripped one wrist with his other hand. On his knees, he pressed his shoulder against the giant’s knees.
Kyky’s weight shifted to one leg and he began to totter. Then he bent over Kebu and placed a hand around Kebu’s neck. Bringing his weight onto Kebu to keep his balance, Kyky squeezed his hand tightly around Kebu’s neck.
Choking, Kebu released his grip and rolled away from the giant.
Kyky kicked at Kebu; the blow glanced off Kebu’s back as he rolled away. Then Kyky leaped closer and, kneeling over Kebu, he hammered Kebu’s back with his fist, knocking Kebu to the ground.
Placing a knee on Kebu’s back, Kyky reached over to pick up the bloody rock.
***
The world around me stopped spinning and my feet found their freedom.
Picking up the last unbroken oil jar, I ran to the men.
As Kyky stretched for the killing rock, I raised my hands overhead and smashed the oil bottle on the giant’s head. Then I danced back, avoiding the huge arm that swung toward me.
I ran back and picked up the bowl of dying embers.
Lifting the hot bowl, I ignored the pain that burned into my hands.
As Kebu kicked and twisted, Kyky leaned over the writhing man to find the rock he had dropped when I had struck him with the oil jar.
As the giant fumbled to get a solid grip on the rock, I turned the bowl of embers and brought the coals down on the giant’s head.
The oil caught fire.
Kyky roared and, dropping the rock, he twisted toward me.
Scrambling backward, I watched in fascination as the giant got to his feet. Fire crawled over Kyky’s face, down his neck and across his chest.
And still he lived.
Roaring, the giant staggered toward me.
The smell of burning flesh filled the air. Kyky clawed at his face, spreading the flames to his hands and scraping skin from his face.
And still he staggered onward.
Fear seized me and my world swayed once more. I tried to run, but my feet refused to obey me.
The burning giant staggered closer.
Illuminated by the dying red glow of the burning oil, Kyky’s yellow eyes were filled with rivulets of blood. Screaming, he reached a charred, smoking hand toward my neck.
I felt the heat and the anger and then the strength of the giant’s hand as it closed around my throat.
I Hold the Broken staff
“He’s dead,” I heard Turo say, his voice muffled by distance.
Bintanath began to cry.
A great weight lay on my chest and my legs and my arms and my head. My nose was filled with the stink of death and fire. I was not sure if I was alive or dead, but I could not move.
I thought: My ka is trapped in my dead body.
Footsteps approached.
The weight that lay on me rocked.
Footsteps danced away.
I strained to bring enough air into my lungs so that I could speak.
The footsteps returned and the weight over me shook.
“Is he dead?” Turo said.
I groaned, but the sound died in my throat.
“I think so,” Pairy said. “He doesn’t move when I kick him.”
“I never saw a spear that thick,” Turo said.
The weight above me shifted, and I drew enough of the putrid air into my lungs to sound a loud groan.
“Put it back!” Turo shouted.
“No!” I gasped.
The air became still and then Pairy’s voice whispered, “Suti?”
Now footsteps approached my head. The weight above me shivered and shifted.
“Turo, give me a hand,” I heard Pairy shout, “The scribe is trapped under the dead giant.”
I heard more footsteps, and the weight above me shifted more. Familiar hands grabbed my arms and tugged me free.
“Why am I not dead? What happened?” I gasped as I rolled onto my side. Looking back, I saw that I had been lying beneath Kyky’s body.
Pairy held out a broken staff. “The giant is dead. This was in his back.”
I pushed myself to my hands and knees. I hung my head for a moment, waiting to see if the flashing stars I had seen last night would reappear. Satisfied that the sparks had ended, I turned my attention to the ground. It had quieted its restless twisting.
“You’re covered in blood,” Turo said, extending his hands to help me to my feet.
I looked down at my chest. It was dark with drying blood. Curious, I pressed my palm against my chest and then my stomach. I was not wounded.
“It must be his blood,” I said, nodding toward Kyky and drawing in a deep breath of relief. As I did, I felt a sharp pain in my throat.
Turo stepped closer and peered at my throat.
“What do you see?” I asked.
“It looks like Re was trying to strangle you,” Turo said.
Pairy ducked his head to study my throat. “He’s right. It looks like fingers of fire were around your throat,” he said, then backed away quickly, trying to distance himself from the strange markings on my neck.
I shivered as the memory of Kyky’s burning hand came alive. “He was on fire,” I said, nodding toward the fallen giant. I took a tentative breath and then swallowed. My throat worked.
While I had been lying in darkness beneath the giant, I had been unsure whether I was alive or had entered the darkness of Duat, my body paralyzed and pressed beneath the belly of the god Geb. I was happy now to discover that the world around me was aligning itself with my memories.
Moving in wonder, I was amazed that I could draw air into my lungs, that my eyes could still drink in the colors and shapes of the Two Lands, that my feet could bear my weight upon Geb’s back.
Curiosity revived, I walked to Pairy and took the heavy, broken staff from the charioteer.
***
The dark wood was carved as two intertwining snakes, their coiled bodies climbing up the staff. Rubbing my fingers across the smooth wood, I remembered the first time I had seen it closely. Still a child, I had been driving stakes into the grounds of the fantastic temple being hewn from the sandstone cliff for Pharaoh Hatshepsut. A thin leg had crossed the space in front of me. And then this staff had appeared. Its worn end was placed gently into the soft ground, and Lord Imhotep had knelt beside me.