House of Scorpion

by Mark Gajewski

  “That’s Ineb-hedj,” Niay told me one afternoon.

  I was sitting with him in the stern, as usual, near the steersman, keeping out of everyone’s way. I’d learned Niay always commanded the royal boat whenever Scorpion’s family traveled the river. He alone had conversed with me during our journey, despite having been one of Tamit’s friends. He’d told me about the hamlets and settlements we’d passed, sketched out a map of the delta, even told me about boat building. I’d never seen a settlement sprawling for such a distance along the river, such a fine large harbor with so many boats being unloaded while more waited to land, flats piled with containers of goods, porters beyond counting and donkeys passing back and forth into and out of the settlement, gleaming white walls rising high.

  “When His Majesty first came to Ineb-hedj – it was called Ptah’s Settlement back then – no one was in charge,” Niay said. “Completely disorganized. Half as many quays. Unprotected warehouses. A third as many people. Fewer workshops. Unbelievable chaos. His Majesty and Tamit made it what it is today.”

  Oarsmen rowed us into the harbor and tied us to a quay. A messenger sped off to find Lagus. Crewmen lowered the gangplank. A crowd began to gather. The royal nature of our vessel had been recognized. While we waited for Lagus to appear Iry leaned with his forearms resting on the railing, staring at the surface of the water, his back to the settlement.

  Lagus soon arrived, arrayed in finery, attended by a large retinue, shaded by a girl carrying a sunscreen. Iry and Mekatre and I moved to the head of the gangplank along with the women and girls.

  “What a wonderful surprise!” Lagus exclaimed. He spotted me. His attitude changed. “What’s she doing here?”

  “She’s father’s wife,” Iry said.

  “What!”

  “You tell him,” Iry ordered Mekatre. “Explain everything. I’m leaving for Sety’s estate as soon as you disembark. I can’t bear to set foot in the settlement. Everything will remind me of her…”

  Mekatre embraced him. “I understand, Brother. May the gods be with you.” He bounded down the gangplank.

  Iry knelt on the deck and hugged his girls. “Remember what I told you. Mind Auntie Weret and Auntie Heria. I’ll be back in a few weeks.”

  His sisters took Abar and Neith by their hands and led them down the gangplank. I started to follow.

  “You’re coming with me,” Iry said.

  No word of explanation. Apparently, he didn’t trust me not to run away while he was gone. Or maybe Scorpion had ordered Iry to keep me with him. I felt sorry for Iry. I was the source of the pain so evident in his eyes. I was going to be a constant reminder of what he’d lost in the days to come.

  Porters quickly carried the containers with everyone’s belongings down the gangplank. Oarsmen pulled it on board.

  “Get us out of here,” Iry ordered Niay, then retreated to the pavilion.

  ***

  “Iry! What are you doing here?” Sety cried from his quay. He beamed.

  We’d just tied up at his estate an hour before sunset alongside one of his four cargo boats. I hadn’t seen Sety in eight years, not since Nekhen. He hadn’t changed all that much. He was getting close to forty, I guessed, though he appeared to be as strong and energetic as a man half his age. I supposed overseeing the fine estate that stretched as far in every direction as I could see kept him active and fit. He spied me on deck. “Majesty?” He was surprised.

  “Father’s new wife,” Iry said brusquely.

  “Wife?”

  We descended the gangplank.

  “We need to talk, Sety. You, Merit and Senebi. In private. Now.”

  Sety’s smile died. “Of course, Iry. Let’s go to the house.”

  Iry strode up the slope without waiting for us. Sety and I hurried after. Niay stayed behind with his crewmen, securing his vessel. Men and women and children working in the fields and gardens on both sides of the path waved and called greetings to Iry and regarded me with curiosity. I’d never been on a delta estate before. I wondered if they were all as prosperous and self-contained as Sety’s. It was larger than some of the hamlets that had owed Father fealty. Who owed Sabu now.

  “Why are you and Iry here?” Sety asked me as we passed a cluster of huts on the hillside that I assumed belonged to his workers. Women were tending earthenware pots bubbling atop coals, their evening meals.

  “You and Iry have dispensed with titles, Sety?”

  “Only in private, Majesty.”

  “Do the same with me. I’m not feeling very special these days. I don’t want to be reminded.”

  “As you wish.”

  “As to why we’re here, it’s not my news to tell.”

  “You’re really King Scorpion’s wife, Matia?”

  “For less than a month.”

  “But you’re here and he’s in Tjeni.”

  I nodded.

  Sety touched his talisman with his fingertips. “My dream… I thought you were destined to marry Iry when we arranged the alliance, Matia. When it fell apart and I saw you go into Pentu’s tent I started doubting whether my dream had actually been a prophesy. But now… Married to Scorpion? The royal blood of Tjeni and Nubt mixed? I believe again. Your descendant will rule the valley.”

  “I haven’t given Scorpion a son yet, Sety. There’s no guarantee I will.” I doubted Scorpion would ever call me to his bed again. He’d loved Tamit dearly. How could he look at me and not see her lying dead on the ground? Fine with me if Scorpion never touched me again. That wasn’t why I’d married him. I’d married him so he’d kill Sabu. He had a personal reason now to see my evil brother dead, not just a political one.

  “King Scorpion sent word that your husband killed your father and tried to seize Nubt’s throne and that Sabu executed him,” Sety said. “Maybe that was part of the god’s plan to free you to be with King Scorpion – Pentu’s misguided ambition.”

  I resisted the urge to contradict Sety and tell him the truth, even though he was so very wrong. “It’s part of Iry’s news.”

  Sety sighed. “I don’t like mysteries.”

  As soon as serving women arranged platters of bread and meat and vegetables before Iry and Sety and Merit and Senebi and me and poured cups of wine they departed the room. Sety waited impatiently as Iry downed his drink.

  “The information our spies brought from Nubt was wrong, Sety,” Iry began. “Sabu murdered King Ika and Pentu. There was no coup attempt. Sabu framed Pentu so he could take Nubt’s throne without elite opposition.”

  “Sabu murdered my son, too,” I added.

  Merit gasped. She put her hand on mine, her eyes sympathetic.

  “I’m sorry, Matia,” Sety apologized. “For what I said earlier too.”

  “Sabu’s an accomplished liar,” I said.

  “About a month and a half ago Sabu arranged a new alliance with Khab and Antef and rulers of a host of smaller settlements and hamlets,” Iry continued. “Antef was taking Matia to Pe and Dep to marry Ny-Hor to seal the alliance. She escaped. She brought word of the alliance to Father. He sent me here to enlist your aid, Sety. You and I need to detach Ny-Hor and Antef from Sabu’s alliance.”

  “Scorpion married you to taunt Sabu, Matia?” Sety guessed.

  “You’re the king’s wife?” Merit jerked her hand away. “Majesty. I shouldn’t have touched you…”

  “It’s fine, Merit. And I’m Matia to you, not Majesty. As is custom on this estate.”

  “I don’t understand why you’ve come to the delta, Matia,” Sety said. “Are you part of Iry’s mission to Ny-Hor?”

  “Sabu thinks Matia’s dead,” Iry replied. “I’m hiding her from his spies in Father’s court.”

  “Dead?”

  “One of Sabu’s spies tried to kill Matia. He… he…” Iry couldn’t go on.

  “The assassin mistook Tamit for me in the dark. She’s dead.”

  There was a moment of stunned silence. Then Merit started to sob. Sety put his arm around her, distraught. As was Senebi. S
ety touched his talisman with his free hand. His lips moved.

  “Mekatre and my sisters and Nebta and my girls and I left for the North a few hours later,” Iry said after a long interval. He wiped away tears. “We’d announced we were all going to the North to visit family and friends a week earlier, as cover for my mission. We didn’t want Sabu to guess I was going to sabotage his alliance. We snuck Matia aboard in Tamit’s place.” Iry paused again, collected himself.

  Merit put her hand atop Iry’s.

  “Once we were well underway, Father was supposed to announce an assassin had murdered Matia. He was then going to bury Tamit at Abdju in a royal grave, pretending he was burying Matia.” Another long pause. Iry continued in a choked voice. “Hopefully, Sabu will be completely fooled and won’t move up the timetable for his attack.”

  “Where’s everyone else?” Sety asked.

  “Mekatre and Nebta will be along in a couple of days on their way to visit Heby. My sisters and daughters are with Lagus in Ineb-hedj. Father wants him to strengthen the settlement’s defenses.”

  “Your news sheds new light on word I received from Heby two days ago, Iry,” Sety said. “Raiders just burned a great deal of Farkha, including the distribution center and everything in it.”

  “What about my boats and weapons?” Iry asked, concerned.

  “The raiders overlooked them. They’re safe.”

  I addressed Iry. “Do you think Sabu got word to Antef? Do you think he’s accelerated his timetable?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe Antef betrayed Sabu because of what you told him. Maybe he’s decided to take the North for himself. I guess we’ll find out soon enough. Senebi – go to Farkha in the morning. Tell Heby everything we just discussed. Tell him to put the delta settlements on alert, and prepare them to mobilize.”

  “Yes, Majesty.”

  “What do you need me to do, Iry?” Sety asked.

  “Nothing too difficult. Go with me to Pe and Dep and convince Ny-Hor not to honor Antef’s alliance. Oh – and bring his daughter Satiah back to Ineb-hedj as Lagus’ hostage-wife.”

  “Sounds easy enough,” Sety said, shaking his head.

  The sun had set while we were talking and eating. Our discussion ended, we went outside. A warm breeze rippled through the barley fields. The afterglow was still coloring the western horizon, though the vast expanse of delta was deep blue. Overhead, stars were winking into the sky.

  Wordlessly, Iry and Sety strolled off into the gloom. Merit led me down the path halfway to the river, where a long flat boulder was set in the midst of fragrant flowers in her garden. We seated ourselves. Some distance to our right fires glowed before the huts of workers. Laughter and conversation drifted to us on the breeze, and singing. I smelled smoke. And the river.

  “Those two have a favorite place at the north end of the turtleback,” Merit told me. “That’s where they go to talk.”

  “I pray Iry will pour his heart out to Sety,” I said fervently. “He’s been holding his grief in for weeks. He’s barely said a word to anyone except his daughters. He’s been strong for their sakes.”

  “He’ll talk to Sety,” Merit assured me. “They’re closer than brothers despite the difference in their ages. Especially Iry’s brothers. He has no use for them. Iry and Sety have gone through a lot together.”

  “Thank the gods for that. Iry’s grief is crippling him.”

  “What about you, Matia? Your son and husband and father murdered. And Tamit.”

  “Everyone in Iry’s family blames me for her death. So do I.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, Matia. It was your brother’s.” Merit paused, as if she was weighing her words. “I know about Sety’s dream, Matia. Maybe the falcon god sacrificed Tamit to save you for a grander purpose.”

  The same thing Sety had said. “Grander purpose? Being ancestress to a man who’ll rule the valley? I don’t care about that. I didn’t ask for it. I don’t know if thinking the falcon god had a hand in Tamit’s death makes it better or worse.” Somehow, unburdening myself to a total stranger was liberating. I’d never see Merit again, and I knew Sety well enough to know he’d never reveal anything she told him about me.

  “Is that why you married King Scorpion – to fulfill the prophesy?” Merit asked.

  “I married Scorpion because he promised he’d kill Sabu. The same reason I married Pentu. And why I agreed to marry Iry years ago.”

  “Sety told me about the original alliance.”

  “I made Iry believe I loved him, Merit. Sabu had just killed my older brother, Hetshet. All I could think of at the time was making Sabu pay for what he’d done. Iry was my weapon of choice and I deceived him and he found out. He hated me for years for that. With cause. When I escaped to Tjeni he wasn’t certain I was telling the truth because I’d lied before. Mekatre suspected I was trying to lead Scorpion into a trap and Iry didn’t know what to believe. Tamit convinced Iry and Scorpion I was telling the truth. I owe her so much and now she’s dead because of me.”

  Merit started to object.

  “Yes… Sabu ordered my murder. But if I’d never gone to Tjeni Tamit would still be alive.” I leaned over and rested my head in my hands. “What’s my life going to be like when I return to Tjeni? People in Tjeni loved Tamit. They’ll hate me, and scorn me, and resent me. Especially Iry. And his poor daughters! How can I live in the same per’aa with them?”

  The tears I’d been holding back for weeks began to flow then. Merit took me in her arms and comforted me as best she could. She held me while the moon rose and turned the river silver and moved across the sky.

  “I loved Tamit too,” Merit said after a long time, stroking my hair. “I don’t blame you, Matia. You have to stop blaming yourself. You have to forgive yourself. And you have to trust that Iry will too, given enough time.”

  I shook my head sadly. “All I’ve ever done is hurt Iry, Merit. I think it’s best that once this mission is over I lock myself away in the women’s quarters of Scorpion’s per’aa and avoid everyone. Once Sabu’s dead I need to make everyone forget I even exist.”

  ***

  Sety and I stood together in the bow of his boat as we approached Pe and Dep. As usual, Iry was avoiding me. We’d argued long and hard before he’d finally agreed to let me come all the way north with him. He’d wanted me to remain on Sety’s estate. Sety had convinced Iry otherwise. I could smell salt in the air.

  “Pe and Dep are twin settlements atop northern and southern mounds located near the mouth of this branch of the river, not far from the sea, the Wadjet Wer,” Sety told me. “A very convenient place for boats from the North to land. They barely have to travel inland at all.”

  Vessels, Northern by their look, were tied up at quays in the harbor. It looked deserted in comparison to Ineb-hedj’s. I knew from reports I’d heard while serving Father in his audience hall what Scorpion had done to impose his will on the delta; apparently his Sakan settlement truly had affected Pe and Dep.

  Huts along the river looked different from those in the South.

  “Northern influence,” Sety said. “The settlers who made this area prosper came from Setjet and Retenu. They brought their customs and way of life with them.”

  “How far to the Northern ports?” I asked.

  “Three days to Jebail, the most important, the source of cedar for our boats,” Sety replied. “I used to trade directly with King Ny-Hor years ago, but I stopped after King Khab’s coronation. I used to know my way around. I doubt the settlements have changed that much in the interim.”

  We landed without incident. That we weren’t challenged by guards was good – that indicated to me that Pe and Dep weren’t yet on a war footing. It probably helped that Sety and Iry had a woman with them – that gave them the appearance of traders accompanied by a servant. Niay remained with the boat, armed, along with his oarsmen, just in case. The rest of us crossed the plain beside the harbor where a handful of men were lounging in patches of shade, porters apparently with nothing to do.


  “Where’s everyone?” Sety asked one.

  “Sacred court. Festival of Wadjet.”

  The settlements were a short distance away and we headed towards them.

  “Wadjet’s their goddess. Originally Pe’s, adopted by Dep. The cobra.” Sety pointed out a grove of palm trees to our right. A pit gaped among a number of low mounds. “That’s the rulers’ cemetery. I’ll bet the pit’s for Ny-Hor. He’s been declining for a long time. He must be near death.”

  The sacred court was easy to find. Dozens of people were hurrying towards it, latecomers apparently. A group was standing outside the gate beside the mud-plastered reed wall, accompanied by guards and fan bearers and a standard bearer. Unmistakably elites and royals. All at once Antef broke from the group, gesturing to guards to follow him. They surrounded us.

  “Returning my runaway bride to me?” he asked Iry and Sety angrily.

  “Your father’s intended wife, not yours,” I rejoined pleasantly.

  That made Antef angrier.

  “I seek an audience with King Ny-Hor, to convey a message from King Scorpion,” Iry said formally.

  Antef regarded us. “You’ll have to wait. Father’s presiding over Wadjet’s festival.” He addressed the guards. “Take them inside the court. Don’t let them escape.”

  “Again?” I asked pleasantly.

  “Now!” Antef shouted.

  “Perhaps you should temper your comments, Majesty,” Sety told me as the guards practically shoved us through the entrance and into the court.

  They stationed us in the hot sun about twenty yards from a shaded dais. Two thrones rested atop the dais with a fan bearer behind each. The court was full; perhaps six or seven hundred people, I guessed. The local population was much smaller than Nubt’s or Tjeni’s. Everyone was dressed in their finest skirts and kilts. Everyone stared at us and murmured to their neighbors. After about ten minutes elites began parading side by side into the court, through a narrow corridor left open between the halves of the crowd. Gold necklaces glittered around necks. The elites seated themselves on stools on the side of the dais opposite Sety and Iry and me. The ceremony hadn’t even started and sweat was already running down my back. It was going to be a long hot day.