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The Amarnan Kings, Book 5: Scarab - Horemheb

Page 34

by Overton, Max


  "How big is the midden that caused this?" Jesua asked.

  They turned upriver, following the course of the stinking waterway, and found whole shoals of dead fish in the papyrus beds, along with many live frogs and dead birds. A few of the men picked up fish, meaning to cook them for a meal, but Nebhotep made them throw them away.

  "We do not know what killed the fish but look, those birds eat fish and now they lie dead too. Do you want to take the risk?" The men threw the fish away and wiped their hands thoroughly.

  Further along the riverbank they came to a small fishing village where every member was gathered in the open space between the huts. People stood around wailing and crying, or supporting others that lay groaning in the dust. When they saw the party of men and two women arrive, the headman hurried over to warn them off.

  "Come no nearer, strangers, for some god has afflicted our village and we are dying."

  "We can help," Scarab said. "Two of us are physicians, and I can also heal."

  "Then you are welcome," the headman said.

  "Have you eaten of the fish cast up upon your shores by the stinking river?" Nebhotep asked.

  The headman nodded. "Some of us. In fact, those that lie dead were the first to eat."

  "Do not eat any more. Throw away any that have been collected or are cooking. Come, Khu, we must prepare an emetic."

  The two physicians got ready, digging into their bags for the necessary powders. Scarab meanwhile, examined the very sick, and laid her hands on any who were breathing their last. They were already sitting up and talking by the time the emetic was administered to their less sick neighbours.

  The headman sidled up to Scarab as she held an old woman's head while she vomited up the poisoned fish. "You are called Scarab? I have heard of you and now I see the things they say are true. The gods obey you."

  "No. The gods sometimes answer my prayers. None of the power is mine, but comes from the gods. Geb is the god of healing so give your thanks to him."

  Yahmose had heard her response and when the headman had left, joined her. "You do well to remember that, sister. The power comes from God, never from us."

  "I know, brother. I made that mistake once before and the Nine left me. Thankfully, they forgave me and returned."

  "The Nine are false gods, sister. Only Yahweh is the One True God."

  Scarab knelt in the dust and looked calmly up at her elder brother. "My gods and your god are the same."

  Yahmose shook his head vehemently. "That cannot be, for He is One God and they are many."

  "Think of it, brother. Who created the world and everything in it?"

  "Yahweh."

  "Atum. And all plants that grow to feed us?"

  "Yahweh."

  "Geb. What of the night sky in its glory?"

  "Yahweh, of course."

  "Nut. I could go on; brother, but I can make my point with those three. Atum is your Yahweh creating the world, Nut is Yahweh when the stars are laid out above us, and Geb is Yahweh when we harvest the good things of the earth. You say one god did all three things, we say the divine performed all three things but in three forms. Was Yahweh being the creator when night falls or he makes things grow? Was he making things grow for us when he made the earth or lit the stars? One god in three forms or three gods with unity of purpose? What does it really matter whether you call him one name and I another...or even two or three or nine? Are we not approaching the same divine being?"

  Yahmose frowned and plucked at his robe. "I...I am not learned enough in the ways of Yahweh to refute your argument."

  "Then let us leave such things aside, my brother. We seek the same thing, you and I, justice and freedom for the Khabiru. We can work together for that good purpose..."

  "A holy purpose, for God commands it."

  "That holy purpose then," Scarab agreed. "Can we work together?"

  Yahmose nodded. "I think so, for now at least, but I will have to wait for Yahweh to speak to me."

  While they talked, the chorus of croaking from the grass and reeds beside the poisoned river grew steadily. Green frogs hopped away from the water, entering into homes and stables, gathering in the shade or climbing into water bowls. Women swept them out of their huts with reed brooms, but as fast as they were evicted, more entered.

  Yahmose watched with a smile on his face. "Yahweh speaks to the false gods of Kemet. First he struck down Hapy, the god of the river, and now he strikes down Heqet, the goddess of childbirth and germination--the river god and the frog goddess. Horemheb will have to listen to the Lord God now."

  Scarab saw the fierce determination in her brother's eyes. "Do you mean to go to Ineb Hedj? Horemheb banned you from the city. He will be angered if you go again."

  "Yahweh will protect me." Without further ado, he got to his feet and set off south by west, following the course of the blood-red river, a course that would eventually lead him to Ineb Hedj.

  Scarab sighed and signalled to her followers to leave also. "It may be that your Yahweh will protect you, dear brother, but if not, then I must."

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  * * *

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The Great River flowed faster and more cleanly at Ineb Hedj, while the flow was a single wide channel. Only when it branched was the river divided and each outlet for the water was of necessity less than the whole, slowing the current in each. The red tinge was less noticeable in the main current, and fishing boats still plied the river, transporting people across. Scarab insisted that she would enter the city with Yahmose but allow no-one else. Jesua refused point-blank to obey her in this, saying he had been assigned as Yahmose's protector and that honour was still his. Khu also refused to abandon Scarab, no matter what she said. Scarab relented in the face of their determination.

  Scarab and Yahmose were recognised on the eastern bank and messengers hurried across with the news so that by the time they set foot on the western shore; many people crowded the docks to see them. A contingent of soldiers was also there, fully armed, with orders to bring them under guard to an audience chamber in the palace. They surrounded the four of them as they disembarked and marched them up to the palace and past the many guards to the king's audience chamber.

  "What part of 'leave Ineb Hedj and never return' did you not understand, Waenre Akhenaten?" Horemheb asked, with a sour expression on his face.

  "My name is Yahmose and I go where the Lord God sends me, not you."

  "Why have you returned?"

  "Yahweh has stretched out his hand against you, King Horemheb. He turned the river to blood and now he afflicts your people with a plague of frogs."

  "Your god was responsible was he?" Horemheb beckoned to some men standing unobtrusively at the back of the chamber and introduced them. "These are priests of the true Kemetu gods, Yahmose. Tell me priests; are you in awe of the power of this Khabiru god?"

  "O Great King, live forever. Nothing this god does is at all remarkable. Turning water into blood and conjuring living things is something that any street magician can do."

  "Really?" Horemheb asked, smiling. "Show me."

  The priests set about their conjuration, bringing out a flat, wide bowl and setting it on the floor in front of the throne. They filled it with pure well water and started chanting long, complex prayers, making strange passes in the air over the bowl with their hands. Then they spread a cloth over the bowl and whipped it away revealing a red stain in the water that grew to fill the bowl over the course of several minutes.

  Horemheb clapped his hands in appreciation. "You see? My priests can turn water into blood too."

  "Can they make frogs?" Khu asked.

  The priests stepped forward again and revealed another vessel, this time tall with a narrow neck. They turned it upside down to reveal it held nothing, before covering it with a cloth and uttering more prayers. One of them then snatched the cloth away and plunged his arm into the jar, pulling out a struggling green frog with a look of triumph. He dropped it on the floor
and went in after another, and a third.

  Yahmose looked crestfallen and Horemheb smiled in satisfaction. "You see? Your god can do no more than my priests can do and they are doing tricks that any mountebank can conjure. Now go away and do not bother me again or I will have you thrown to the sacred crocodiles. I doubt your god could save you from them."

  "Your priests put on a great show, Horemheb," Scarab said with a laugh, "But they are no more than second-rate street magicians using tricks and powders. They have produced a single bowl of their red water, but the god of Yahmose has filled the river below Ineb Hedj. They conjure three frogs, doubtless held in that man's tunic, whereas thousands crawl out of the river and through the dwellings of your subjects. If your priests are telling you they are the equal of the god Yahweh, they are lying to you, King Horemheb."

  The king scowled and waved his priests away. "And take your tricks with you." He waited in silence until the priests had cleared away their bowls and jars and cloth, had wiped up some red liquid spilt on the floor and caught all three frogs.

  "Very well," Horemheb said at last. "You have shown me your god is a lot better at magic tricks than my priests. What is it you want?"

  "You know what I want," Yahmose said. "Yahweh says to let his people, the Khabiru, leave the land of Kemet."

  "And then you will stop sending these nuisance plagues?"

  "Yes."

  "Then go. Leave Kemet."

  "Together with all their herds and flocks, their gold and silver?"

  "No. Someone must pay for all the cleaning up there is to be done. Each family may take a milk cow and two goats--I would not have it said I harmed children. But you must leave behind your valuables."

  "That is unacceptable," Yahmose said.

  "And I will not yield on this," Horemheb replied. "So it seems we are at an impasse. What will you do now, Scarab? Will you order your gods to coerce me?"

  "No. The gods are silent here, and I will not invoke them where other means may suffice."

  "Then I have won."

  The light from the great windows darkened as he spoke and a cool, damp gust of air entered the audience chamber. They looked out to see a grey sky and misty curtains descending on to the city and surrounding countryside. Presently, the unexpected sound of rain drummed on the roof of the palace and countless drops turned the dusty streets into puddle mud.

  Horemheb leaned out of the window and roared with laughter. He turned to face Yahmose and Scarab, grinning. "Now whose gods are more powerful?" he asked. "Rain happens so seldom in Kemet this can only be divine intervention. The rain will break the drought, wash away your blood and frogs and renew the land. Go back to your little god, Yahmose, and tell him to be very careful or I will bring the wrath of a real god down on his head."

  Yahmose started to argue, but Scarab stopped him, and with Jesua's help, persuaded him to leave. They slipped and splashed their way through the muddy streets to the docks in almost complete silence, amid a crowd of very excited city dwellers, and took a boat back to the eastern bank.

  "What do we do now?" Jesua asked glumly when they were back in their sodden camp with the other members of the Pillar.

  "What does your god Yahweh say, Yahmose?" Scarab asked.

  "Nothing. Or at least, he tells me to free his people, but if the king will not do so for blood and frogs, he is scarcely likely to do it for cleansing rain."

  The air did indeed smell cleaner, though there were still as many dead fish along the riverbank and the frogs were as plentiful in the grass and around their tents. Some of them looked lethargic though, as if whatever had killed the fish was making the frogs sicken and die.

  The rain eased after a few hours, but came again and again over the next several days, soaking the ground and filling the irrigation ditches, sprinkling the farmland with hundreds of puddles that mirrored the cloudy skies. As the rain eased, the heat built up again, and with the heat, the dead fish and frogs which now lay everywhere, started to rot. Maggots crawled in the corpses and the puddles and ditches bubbled with life, erupting into clouds of gnats and mosquitoes and flies. The insects swarmed, blackening the air in places, and where they descended, tormented men and beasts alike.

  The members of the Pillar were not immune from this new plague, from biting flies and mosquitoes that raised welts on bare arms and legs, from gnats that clung to the corners of eyes and mouth, from clouds of the tiny insects that were sucked in with every breath and eaten with every mouthful. The men cried aloud in their torment, even Khu, but he noticed that Scarab was untroubled by the insects.

  "Are your gods protecting you?" Khu asked. "There are many dead ones on the ground near you."

  "I have not asked for protection, but it may be." She prayed in silence for a few minutes. "They do not say they are protecting me."

  "Yet they seem to be. Can you ask them to spare the rest of us too?"

  "I am sorry, Khu, but if I am not protected by them, I can scarcely have it extended over my friends."

  However, Khu found there was a measure of protection to be found by staying close to Scarab. The closer he was, the more he was protected, and the same protection applied to other members of the Pillar. Soon, everyone was clustering as close as possible. Yahmose alone refused, saying his god Yahweh had given him no instruction on this. A few days passed and the swarms multiplied, driving animals to distraction in the fields and causing people in the towns to burn wet dung, creating billows of evil-smelling smoke that kept the levels of biting insects down to bearable levels. For the men of the Pillar, keeping close to Scarab was the most effective method of control, but they suffered at night when Scarab and Merye shared a tent and the men slept in others close by.

  "This is another plague sent by Yahweh," Yahmose declared. "He has sent it to show the king that his gods are helpless."

  "If you say it, it must be true," Jesua declared. "But...well, which gods are being shamed? There is no god of flies is there?"

  "The divine dwells in every animal," Scarab explained. "We Kemetu have always believed that animals were closer to the gods than to humans. No man can fly like the hawk, nor run as fast as the gazelle, or have the strength of the bull, so these attributes must be divine. Animals reflect the gods and part of the godhead is found in every animal. Why else do we preserve their bodies, drying them and wrapping them in linen strips with costly oils and spices, just like royalty? It is because we all, deep down in our hearts, revere them."

  "I hear you, Scarab," said Jesua. "But what does this have to do with the plague of biting flies?"

  "The cattle in the fields, the horses in the chariot lines, the flocks of sheep and goats, dogs, cats, wild fowl and even the armoured crocodile are attacked by these flies and not one god who resides within each afflicted animal can do anything about it. If this plague is from Yahweh, he is showing himself stronger than the gods of Kemet."

  "Even the Nine," Khu asked quietly.

  Scarab smiled. "No, not the Nine. The gods of Iunu are greater gods--they are gods of creation, of the earth, water, air, life and death, destruction, the night sky, and the heavens. Yahweh has not attacked them because, I think, Yahweh is in each one of them."

  "Is that right, father?" Merye asked.

  Yahmose looked doubtful but he nodded anyway. "It is possible. Yahweh has not yet revealed that to me."

  "Now the king must surely listen to you," Jesua declared. "Let us go to the White City again and confront him."

  "I counsel caution," Scarab said. "You risk angering Horemheb, and you do not want him swearing he will never let them go, for then he would be bound by his word."

  "Is that not what he has done already?" Khu asked.

  "No, he has merely refused, attempting to bargain each time. That indicates he is willing to at least listen. If you force him, though, anger him, he might utter an irrevocable oath and only death would release him."

  "That could be arranged," Jesua said. "A new king might be more pliable."

  "Do not eve
n think it," Scarab declared. "A king is consecrated and the god on earth. Killing the king is god-cursed."

  "Yet you killed Ay," Abrim objected. "And he was consecrated."

  "I did not kill Ay. All I did was goad him to anger and the gods clutched his heart, stopping it. The gods can kill kings, but men should not."

  "What do you say, Yahmose?" Jesua asked. "You are the Prophet of God."

  "I say we go to Horemheb."

  Everyone wanted to go, if for no other reason than Scarab was going and proximity to her meant relief from the insect swarms, however, she would only allow Jesua and Khu to accompany them. They found it difficult to hire a fisherman to take them over the river as most were indoors, sitting in clouds of dung smoke. Eventually they found a young man prepared to make the trip, though he said he would turn back if it got too bad. The fisherman was amazed at how few insects were out on the river and talked animatedly the whole way over. Had he realised, he said, he would have been out fishing every day, just to get away from the flies.

  The streets of Ineb Hedj were all but deserted, and stinking smoke clung to the houses as they made their silent way to the palace. The guards stood by smoking braziers despite the heat and were swathed in linen cloths. They looked with loathing at the Prophet of Yahweh, but more circumspectly at Scarab.

  "You have come to see the king, no doubt. Please wait here."

  The messenger sent to inform the king returned a few minutes later and conducted them to a windowless inner room where the king sat doing his daily business, scribes sitting around him, reading or taking notes.

  Horemheb looked up as the four of them entered. "Out!" he barked at the scribes, but signalled the guard to stay. "Alright, what do you want?"

  "You know what the Lord God wants," Yahmose said. "Release his people."

  Horemheb looked at them suspiciously, noting that they displayed unbitten skin and thin, non-protective clothing. "Why are you unscathed? Have the biting flies not plagued you?"

  Scarab laughed. "Why should we be bothered when the plague is directed at you, Horemheb?"

 

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