Girls in linen skirts entered the court, singing, dancing, clapping their hands to keep the rhythm. Behind them men led a young bull by a tether. A girl followed, bearing a very large earthenware bowl, buff colored, decorated with a brown cobra. I recognized the pottery style as ancient. The bowl had apparently been used in ceremonies to honor Pe and Dep’s goddess for a very long time.
“Antef, king’s son!” the herald cried from the entrance.
Antef entered, pompous and self-righteous, flanked by two guards on each side. He slowly paraded up the aisle to the foot of the dais, then turned and faced the crowd, but not before glaring at me.
“Ny-Hor, king of Pe and Dep, master of the northern delta, beloved of Wadjet!” announced the herald.
A man holding a long ebony pole topped with a cobra strode a dozen steps ahead of Ny-Hor. The king shuffled towards the dais, supporting himself with a staff in his right hand, hunched over, looking to neither right nor left. His kilt was white, his jewels magnificent, but they almost seemed to weigh him down. He didn’t look at all well. No wonder his grave had already been dug. A girl followed, holding a sunshade over his head.
Ny-Hor reached the dais. Antef took his arm and helped him up the two steps. Ny-Hor plopped heavily into his chair. A servant hurriedly grabbed his staff and moved behind the dais. Antef seated himself on a throne beside his father. The fan bearers began swishing their fans back and forth.
Antef rose after a moment. Apparently he was going to conduct the day’s rituals. Smart. Portraying himself as his soon to be dead father’s substitute. No one would be able to challenge him for the throne.
“Today we honor our goddess, Wadjet,” Antef cried. “We offer her our due.”
A long line of porters entered the court, bearing containers of grain and vegetables and fruit and products made in local workshops. One by one they placed them around the cobra standard the bearer had set in a hole in the ground between me and the dais. So many were the offerings that the porters had to stack some containers atop others.
When the last had been deposited, men led the bull to the open space in front of the dais. Antef descended. Men wrestled the bull onto its side and held it down. It bawled, struggled. A man handed Antef a long flint ceremonial knife with a very large wooden handle. Antef held it over his head with both hands so all could see. The knife was much like one we used in rituals at Nubt, and that I’d seen at Nekhen – the blade serrated, the handle decorated with rows of animals, symbolically ensuring order over nature.
“We offer you, Wadjet, a sacrifice from among the herds of cattle you’ve granted us.” Antef moved to the bull’s neck.
The girl dropped to her knees and pressed the bowl against the animal. I noted that someone had drawn an image of a bull on her chest in henna.
Antef slit the bull’s throat.
Blood pulsed onto the girl’s chest and arms and skirt and legs and into her hair. Most flowed into the bowl. The bull took some time to die, fighting the men holding it down, its eyes rolling. After it bled out the girl moved away and Antef sawed off the beast’s foreleg.
The girl moved beside him. Antef raised the knife in one hand and the foreleg in the other. The girl, drenched with blood, raised the bowl over her head with both hands.
“Our offering to you, Wadjet, goddess who protects us!”
Men dragged the carcass to the edge of the court and into a ditch among whitened bones, where it would rot. The girl and Antef followed. She poured the blood over the carcass. He laid the foreleg beside it.
A girl held a bowl of water while Antef washed blood from his arms and hands. Another gave him a length of linen to dry them. The girl who’d helped with the sacrifice faded to one side, unwashed.
Antef moved back to the foot of the dais. “Today we offer you an additional sacrifice, Wadjet – a man who has spoken out against your representative on earth, my father, the king.”
Guards practically dragged a terrified man into the court. His back was purpled with stripes; his confession had been beaten out of him. His arms were bound and he was struggling futilely to get free. He’d been gagged; he was trying to speak but all anyone could hear were muffled sounds. I wondered what he’d said that had been so damning. If he’d said anything at all. Antef was like my brother Sabu, a man who’d go to any lengths to frighten and intimidate those who might want to remove him from power. I suspected the upcoming execution was simply Antef’s warning to Pe and Dep’s elites not to cross him when his father died. What better time for a warning than when most of the settlement’s residents were present?
The guards forced the man to his knees in front of Antef.
The doomed man’s eyes were pleading.
Antef gestured.
A guard carried a mace to him, its head an oval of limestone etched with a cobra, the handle ebony.
Antef seized the man’s hair and twisted it in the fingers of his left hand. He raised the mace high in his right.
I’d seen Father execute many criminals at festivals much like this one. Every one of those criminals had committed an actual crime – murder, theft, assault. This execution felt different, like Pentu’s had been.
Antef swung the mace and crushed the criminal’s skull.
The man toppled to the earth.
Antef worried the mace out of the dead man’s head, then called for the flint knife he’d used to slay the steer.
The bloody girl came forward again. She knelt beside the criminal and pressed another bowl against his head, averting her eyes. Still, she couldn’t avoid kneeling in brain matter.
Antef carved a circle around the man’s skull with the tip of the knife, then took hold of his hair and yanked. He straightened and held up the bloody scalp. “So will I deal with any man who challenges the authority of our king!” He flung the scalp into the ditch beside the bull.
The girl with the bowl stood and handed it to Antef.
He poured blood over the corpse, then tossed the bowl aside.
“A feast awaits, my people!” Antef cried. “Roasted oxen and gazelle and goat and sheep, bread, vegetables, fruit, beer! All due to the beneficence of my father, King Ny-Hor!”
“Ny-Hor! Ny-Hor!” the people chanted.
He stirred on his throne. He’d slept through most of the ceremony.
The standard bearer lifted the standard from the hole in the ground. Antef moved directly behind him as fan bearers helped Ny-Hor down the steps. Bearers lifted a palanquin that had been resting behind the dais and carried it to Ny-Hor. They helped him into it.
“Bring them,” Antef snapped at the guards, indicating Sety and Iry and me.
We moved into the procession behind the palanquin. The standard bearer led us out of the court.
“Looks like we’re headed to the per’aa,” Sety noted as we followed a wide street into the nearest settlement. Whether it was Pe or Dep I didn’t know. Or care.
The per’aa was so much cooler than the court had been. I was grateful we were finally out of the blazing sun. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the relative darkness. Guards prodded us along a corridor and into what was unmistakably the audience hall, smaller than both Father’s and Scorpion’s. The hall was richly decorated; by that I gathered that Ny-Hor was wealthy.
Once Ny-Hor was on his throne, slumped but more or less alert, Antef addressed his father. “These three seek an audience, Father. They claim to represent King Scorpion.”
Ny-Hor peered at us. “Sety? Is that you?” His voice quavered.
“It is, Majesty.” Sety indicated us. “I’ve brought with me Iry, son of King Scorpion. And Matia, daughter of King Ika of Nubt, sister of King Sabu.” He paused. “Wife of King Scorpion.”
“Outrageous!” Antef exclaimed, addressing me. “Your brother gave you to me as wife!”
“To your father,” I corrected. “But you failed to deliver me.”
“Escape does not erase obligation,” Antef said darkly.
“I’m under no obligation to you,
Antef,” I said defiantly. “I don’t recognize Sabu’s authority. He murdered his way onto Nubt’s throne. Must I remind you that he betrayed you?”
Ny-Hor was completely baffled. “Someone tell me what’s going on!” he ordered.
“Majesty,” Sety said hurriedly, “your son has formed an alliance with King Sabu and others to wage war against King Scorpion.”
“I’ve done nothing of the sort, Father!” Antef protested.
“I was present when it was arranged, Majesty,” I told the king.
“Liar!”
“Really, Antef? Then why did you just proclaim that my brother had given me to you as wife? And admit he’d given me to your father?”
“A sign of friendship between our settlements, Father,” Antef insisted.
Ny-Hor looked me up and down, hungrily. He apparently wasn’t quite as near death as Antef hoped. “Why didn’t you tell me about my bride, Son?”
“Because she ran away. King Sabu’s been looking for her. He promised me he’d drag her here no matter how long it took.”
“Another lie,” I retorted. “Sabu sent an assassin to Tjeni to kill me. He failed.”
I felt Iry stiffen beside me. Another reminder that Tamit was dead because of me. He stepped towards the throne. “Enough of this nonsense! King Ny-Hor, my father, King Scorpion, demands that you reject the alliance formed by Antef and Sabu and restore peace between our settlements.”
“What evidence do you have of an alliance besides a lying woman?” Antef snarled.
“Raiders burned Farkha two weeks ago,” Iry said. “Raiders instigated by you, Antef.”
“You have no proof.”
Iry addressed Ny-Hor. “Majesty, my father will go to war against you unless you pledge to remain out of the conflict between Tjeni and Nubt. The entire eastern delta’s arrayed against you and is on alert because of your son’s dastardly attack on Farkha. One word from Father, and Sakan will choke you off from Northern goods permanently. Ineb-hedj will seal you off from the valley. Is that what you want, Majesty? To be completely isolated? To decline the way Nekhen has? You’ve visited Nekhen. You know what I’m talking about.”
“Empty threats, Father. Don’t listen to him,” Antef pled.
“Majesty, I was in the audience hall with my brother after your son and the other rulers left the night they agreed to wage war against my husband,” I said. “Sabu conferred with Ani, his uncle and commander of his army. Sabu plans to yield the North to you while he conquers Tjeni. Then he’s going to turn on you and take the North for himself.”
“More lies!”
“Abedu’s barbarians are going to destroy Pe and Dep in exchange for grazing rights in the delta. Abedu and Sabu agreed.”
“So you claimed in our camp, Matia. You lied. You were trying to drive a wedge between Abedu and me,” Antef snapped. “You misunderstood your brother. Abedu explained everything.”
Antef was so stupid. He’d just proved he’d been lying. “Drive a wedge in an alliance you claim doesn’t exist, Antef?” I asked. “Your own words convict you. You’re the liar here – not me.” I stepped towards the dais. “What will it be, Majesty? Honor an ill-conceived alliance entered into without your knowledge that will wipe Pe and Dep from the face of the earth? Cast your fortunes with a man who has killed his brother and father and nephew and several elites? Or withdraw from the alliance and promise not to wage war against my husband, King Scorpion?”
“Absurd!” Antef cried.
“As surety,” Iry said, “King Scorpion demands that you give your daughter Satiah as wife to his oldest son, Lagus.”
“A hostage!” Antef shouted.
“Exactly,” Iry said calmly.
“Look what you’ve brought us to, Antef,” Ny-Hor said plaintively. “We can’t stand up to King Scorpion.”
“Father, Scorpion won’t send an army all the way to the delta,” Antef averred. “The minute he does King Sabu will invade and capture Tjeni.” He glared at Iry. “An empty threat.”
“My father has settled hundreds of Tjenian farmers in the delta,” Iry said sharply. “An army’s worth. I can raise another army from among the craftsmen at Ineb-hedj. I have enough weapons and warships stashed at Farkha to arm and transport everyone. Your men foolishly left them untouched when you raided Farkha, Antef. So, while Father’s obliterating your ally Sabu in the South, I’ll be attacking Pe and Dep and burning them to the ground. And destroying your barley fields. And slaying your cattle and goats and sheep. And taking your wives and daughters and giving them to my men. I’ll make sure no one remembers that Pe and Dep ever existed.”
“Or, Iry, we could simply do nothing and let Abedu and his barbarians overrun this part of the delta,” I said.
“It would save us the effort, Matia,” Iry agreed.
Ny-Hor was too old and sick to argue, much less fight. I could see it in his eyes. He addressed Iry. “I agree, Majesty. I will not honor the alliance with King Sabu that my son made. I will not myself nor will I help anyone else make war against King Scorpion. Take Satiah with you when you leave, to tie my house to yours.”
It did my heart good to see defeat on Antef’s smug face.
***
Peret (Seed)
Iry
***
We left our boat at Hiw and traveled overland on donkeys to Nekhen so we could skirt Nubt – Sety, me, a dozen soldiers, Matia. I’d brought her along on my mission because she was familiar with the trails that crossed the paw of land west of Nubt. With war more or less imminent, I was taking full advantage of the opportunity to see for myself the terrain Father’s troops might have to traverse and fight for. Plus, Father and I wanted to keep secret as long as possible that Matia was still alive. It wouldn’t do to have her wandering around Father’s per’aa where a Nubtian spy might see her. I’d remained aboard my boat the single night we’d spent at Tjeni after our return from the North – it would’ve been too excruciating for me to step inside the per’aa where Tamit had been murdered. Father had come to me to hear Sety’s and my report. One which had pleased him immensely. I’d neutralized Ny-Hor and Antef, the delta settlements were keeping an eye on them just in case, and Satiah was now my brother’s hostage-wife. Matia had spent the night with Father inside the pavilion on the boat, at his insistence.
I hadn’t spoken to Matia at all since the confrontation with Ny-Hor in his audience hall, except during our sojourn in the desert, questioning her about the side trails that branched towards Nubt from the one we’d traveled. I wanted nothing to do with her and she’d been smart enough to keep her distance. Every time I looked at her I was reminded of what I’d lost, and why. I literally ached with emptiness. I missed Tamit so much. She’d been my life. I didn’t know how I was going to survive the long lonely years I had left without her.
We dismounted within sight of Nekhen. Leaving my soldiers with my donkeys, Sety and Matia and I strolled through the settlement all the way to Khab’s per’aa. No one challenged us at any point.
“Doesn’t look to me like Nekhen’s preparing for war,” I observed to Sety.
“All Khab’s talk about making Nekhen great again was just that – talk,” Sety replied. “Khab’s essentially a lazy man whose ambition was to be king. His words resonated with the elites, so they picked him. Now he’s content to simply wear the crown and grow rich.”
“Which is why he never stopped trading Nekhen’s luxury goods with Nubt, as he threatened,” I mused.
“Likely the reason he joined Sabu’s alliance. He didn’t want to risk losing Nubt’s gold,” Sety said.
Sety was a frequent and welcome visitor to Nekhen, due to his talisman, and so we easily gained an audience with King Khab.
He was seated on his throne, presiding over his regular audience. Elites were on one side of the hall, commoners on the other, officials and servants bustling about. A girl was waving a fan behind him. Sunlight was streaming through several windows, providing light.
We strolled up the center of
the hall towards the throne. The commotion as Sety was recognized stopped the petitioner addressing Khab in mid-sentence. The three of us stepped into the space before the throne. The petitioner stepped aside. Sety bowed. Matia and I didn’t.
Khab’s greeting for Sety died on his lips. He stared at Matia, taken aback. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be with King Ny-Hor?”
“Clear your hall, Majesty,” Sety suggested. “We have things to say for your ears alone.”
Khab stared at us for a long moment. “Everyone out!” he ordered harshly. After the door closed behind the last of his servants he addressed Matia. “Well?”
“I’m the wife of Scorpion, king of Tjeni.”
Khab was shocked. “But the alliance…” At least he had enough sense not to deny there was an alliance, as Antef had.
“Ny-Hor has backed out,” I announced. “His daughter Satiah is now my brother Lagus’ wife. She’ll stay alive as long as Ny-Hor honors his promise not to fight against my father. I’ve destroyed Sabu’s alliance, Khab. You’re going to back out too.”
Khab started to splutter.
“Sabu stands alone now, Majesty, except for his mercenaries – and you,” Sety interjected.
Sweat began to bead on Khab’s brow. “Why should I abandon King Sabu?” he asked me defiantly. “Nubt lies between me and your father. Sabu and his mercenaries will protect me.”
“Sabu won’t give you a moment’s thought when Father’s army appears outside his walls.” I laughed. “Or maybe Father will invade Nekhen first, Majesty. I just traveled overland around Nubt directly to Nekhen. Not a single soldier challenged me the entire journey – not on the desert, not in this settlement. If I’d brought Father’s army with me I’d be demanding your surrender right now, not having a pleasant discussion.”
House of Scorpion Page 44