Tears for Isis

By: Michael J. Costa

Chapter 10

N E F E R B A.

Fourteen prosperous years of trading with foreign nations and peace treaties passed as though those years did not exist. Rehotep was in his mid-teens and he excelled at his scribe work, at archery and at public relations. I once complimented him that he would make a fine king after my soul was united with the past Pharaohs. During those years I felt closer to my position as ruler of the Two Lands, and the very thought of it comforted me. Occasionally I visited Mira-Amon and was usually seduced by my lover there, who didn't care about my political position and only felt secure when I went there on military voyages. But this comfort of life in Kemt was limited, for the relentless opposition of foreign invasions in other lands executed by the Hittite empire gave rise to speculation outside the palace walls. The middle class often worried about my performance in dealing with those vampire marauders and also wondered when they would change their "friendly ties" toward both states of Kemt. It was true that some princes of Hatti were found among the battered remains of the Kemt-Hurrian war fifteen years ago and that the loved ones of their native land mourned their death. I, too, speculated that should they possess a reason to attack us, they would with the full force of all their international legions.

In front of an open altar overlooking the Nile Valley from the rooftops of the southern palace in Thebes, I meditated in silence. I concentrated on a subject that divides most people from their community and sometimes their families as well. I thought mostly about the country of mine, should it not be in my control then perhaps prosperity would pour through the grating of some unspeakable evils. Should the world as I knew it somehow collapse into the desert of destruction, should the enemies of alien lands conquer my nation and force it into oblivion, what would I do to replace that margin of terror? A few generations later then perhaps Kemt would be free, as with the invasion of the Hyksos and the reluctant Libyans of the eastern desert.

My thoughts were also divided on the subject of polygamy. I longed to share my existence with NefroNephtis except that she was of a foreign land and I knew that the priests of AmonRe would discourage our relationship. What does this have to do with polygamy, you ask? The concept is not an easy one. I am loyal to my selected companion, that being Neferba, and I also want my lover from Mira-Amon to live with me as well. All Pharaohs from time immemorial have had at least two or three separate counterparts, most living in the palace harem, unnoticed. Why do I worry about this, one may ask. The one main reason is because I am only supposed to marry someone of our native land. Because I am of Egyptian descent, I must be confined to a spouse of native origin, not a nonroyal maiden from a far-away place. It would disgrace my image of Pharaoh if I did this. Soon, however, my worries would leave me quite permanently.

A cuneiform letter was brought to my attention last night by my chief scribe Bastka. It read: "...Five moon days ago a small batch of Hittite renegades infiltrated the temple walls surrounding the shrine of Tjet in the city of Tanis, Lower Kingdom. The renegades stole priceless papyrus scrolls of the Osirian brotherhood worth over twelve minas of silver, and they...the statue of the living god." I read on. "The criminals raped your aunt Amummit and slashed her...off and scattered her perfumes and oils about the room, lighting them with fire...Amummit didn't survive the blaze. Stop. Your scribe, Sonebkh, Royal-Scribe of the North." As I held the tablet in my hands, an unfathomable rage surged through my veins. I became enraged and, out of sheer fury, I threw the tablet at the opposing wall where it shattered into infinitesimal fragments.

Amummit was not my aunt, as he said in the letter, for she gave birth to me through magic, the same source of power that protects me in the form of the Eye of Set amulet that I wear. I told my son Rehotep to report to me the whereabouts of the Hittites when he arrives in Mendes the next week.

As I remained in Malkata in the lower region of Thebes for the construction and repairs of three small temples, my personal scribe escorted Rehotep on his travels in the Lower Kingdom and reported his progress in papyrus scrolls.

"The first day in Mendes was clear from any weather disturbances and no Hittites could be found," wrote Bastka. "The second day I noticed some minor looting of the local shrines of Sobek, and two guards were injured by daggers. Nothing more happened this week. Upon reaching Tanis, a drunken crowd of foreigners, perhaps from Hatti but without any evidence for they wore Egyptian cloth, caused much disturbance in the ghetto regions of the city and broke two cases of fine Horus-Uto wine and later ransacked the bar. Rehotep went to investigate but I knew better, so I persuaded him to follow me to a local doctor's office where he offered some protection.

"During the middle of the second week we encountered a large gang of iron-clad soldiers carrying a flag with the Hittite insignia. When Rehotep approached them and started to question them, they became hostile. Rehotep withdrew his golden dagger and stabbed one in the arm. When the soldier came about, he noticed the dagger to be of royal possession. He next realized that your son might be related to the `enemy of the state,' in other words he meant you, your highness. The soldier told his comrades something in a foreign tongue, and they encircled us with drawn swords."

"At first I hadn't realized our situation. The commotion was so sudden that I, a noble scribe of the State, didn't know what to do so I told Rehotep to retreat into the shadows. But, as he was your son and brave like yourself, he stood up to the gang and threatened them. This is what he told them: `Leave my land and begone! This is my father's land, and when he hears about how you tortured his possessions he will take the heads from all of you and mount them on the temple (the temple of skulls) and watch you bleed!' I knew that he had said too much for them not to know who he was referring to. The gang grew restless and closed in on us. Many fearful onlookers threw stones at the gang, but their armour deflected them." I sighed a moment then continued reading. "Your son made quite a battle with those rekhyet slime, but he didn't succeed. As the buffoons tightened their grip on the tiny space in which we stood, Rehotep grabbed one of their iron swords and beheaded the leader. This action shocked some of them, but they quickly recovered. I tried to save your son, but as I tried they kicked me away so I cornered myself behind a cart of weeds. The next few scenes were clouded, but I could watch from my position that they did many harsh things to your son.

"After one hour had passed, I found your son bleeding from multiple injuries: some external and some internal. I wasn't sure how long he would live so I brought him to the doctor nearby. The gang departed on stolen chariots."

Just enough of the information concerning my son being injured was alarming to me. But now I was faced with the prospect of losing him to a clique of terrorists. I drank a goblet of wine and continued reading.

"The doctor told me that opening his cranium was necessary if we were to save him. I watched as the physician poked his tools into Rehotep's skull and sewed the open wounds with gold thread. The doctor tried many times and even lifted the skull fragment to relieve pain or pressure on the nerves. All to no avail. I am sorry to report my lord, that your son Rehotep died only a few days later. I told the embalmers to prepare the body near the estate in Memphis. They will wait on the burial until you come, my lord."

That was enough to force me to burst into tears. An internal flame was growing for the hatred of the Hittites, but I knew that I couldn't stop all of them. I was proud, however, that my son was daring enough to decapitate the enemy without guilt.

The main problem now was to inform Neferba about this tragedy. I entered my son's bedchamber and examined his possessions. I looked at the engraving on his bed. It read: "To the son of Re, may he live forever like the lizards of the desert and the pyramids of Memphis." I allowed tears to fall from my closed lids. I thought about all of the exciting times that we had shared together.

An hour later, Neferba entered Rehotep's room happily as though she had a secret to tell or a present to give. When she noticed that my eyes were swollen with tears her tone changed.

"Why are you upset, my love?", she asked. I turned to her slowly and started to speak, but my emotions forbade me. I told her to inform me about whatever it was that she held secret from me before I broke the news concerning our first born.

"I wanted to tell you that when Rehotep has returned that we can all visit the Nubian village at the first cataract at Elephantine. I hear they're preparing for the feast of Opet early this year." The feast of Opet was our version of New Year's day.

I told her to read the message from my scribe, but then I forgot that she didn't read. She didn't have to. All that she needed was a scribe to tell her the information rather than to bother deciphering the letter. There seemed a way out of everything when one becomes a queen...I was compelled to read it for her instead.

I swallowed hard when the scribe in the letter was talking about Rehotep and the Hittites. I glanced up at her when I told her that our son had died. She almost didn't believe me, but later she exploded when she had come to her senses.

"Nebakhre, how could you send our beloved to Tanis? Especially with those evil people! Nebakhre, I shall never forgive you!" She took the news pretty hard. I tried to persuade her to think positively.

"Neferba, be reasonable. I only told him to go there because he was in the area. I knew he was loyal to me and would inform me about the location of those jackals should anything go wrong. It seems he was a little too brave. Just the way I wanted him."

"I—I have heard enough. I am leaving, Nebakhre," she replied with considerable bitterness.

"And where do you suppose you're running off to? The only sanctuary is the palace or the temple." After that she struck me with an open hand across my left jaw and stormed off to a place that was, well, comfortable. I later knew where she went since my subjects don't keep very good secrets...

Enclosed in a silken satchel was a long scroll of papyrus. I discovered this manuscript shortly after finding a corpse with snake bites along one arm. Next to the body was a coiled asp, one of the traditional and deadly deliverers of suicide. I turned the body over and beheld Neferba with eyes closed and tear stains on her gown. Why would she do this? The only logical reason is that she didn't want to live without her son. That would be my reason too, had I not been overly sensible.

I unrolled the papyrus and spread it out on the floor. The message contained a few hastily executed pictures and was written in the script form of writing.

The letter said: "To my love Nebakhre, always honor my decision for leaving you. I couldn't live with the knowledge that you sent our son to his death without warning him of the dangers of those fiends of Hatti. His death was partly his fault due to a lack of experience, so please do not be alarmed that it was all your doing. Fifteen years ago everything was superb. The country was safe, we were content, and the evils of the land were no more. Until this problem of the invaders is settled, I will no longer feel safe here. It is best that I die of my own hand rather than that of an enemy. Please understand this, Nebakhre.

"I personally wrote this, though you may not have known that I was able to perform a scribe's duties. I have long wondered how you think, but I was too shy to ask. I have known for some time about your real parentage, that of Amummit and Sethori, though I kept this a secret from you so that no one else would spoil our relation. Your father, your real father that is, visited me during your stay at the palace and informed me about this. I honor your bravery to hold back this knowledge, and I respect you for it. Do not mourn my passing; only remember the good times we spent and our love forever. Thank you, and may Ptah-Atum-Re bless you with luck to rid our nation of all evils. Neferba."

That night I had difficulty sleeping. Not only was my bed empty but also my heart felt as if it had been ripped from my breast and torn into a thousand pieces by the Devourer of the Duat. The scroll I had recoiled and chosen to place into the family tomb for my son and wife in a chosen place in the Necropolis of Memphis.

Seventy-three days later, after the embalming of my two close relatives, I entered their tomb and placed the scroll within a chest of silver among their other possessions already supplied in the palace of eternity. After their decorated funeral took place followed by the Feast of the Dead, I embarked on a routine tour to Mira-Amon to investigate their prosperity and ailments. Upon reaching the city a week later I asked about NefroNephtis. They told me where to find her. The city still retained its original value and so I was content with that.

I stayed awake that night so that I could enter my lover's domain in secrecy. Inching around a corner, I spotted NefroNephtis in a curtained room dressing for bed. There were no guards, which seemed a little strange, especially since I increased the guard duty on the palace.

I slowly entered through the window and confronted her in surprise. As she turned around without knowing who I was she immediately, on impulse, slapped me on the right cheek. This has got to stop! When will these women learn not to hit those they love is a question I'll never have an answer to.

"Nebakhre! How did you get in here? The guards! Where are the sentries?" She questioned nervously as if hiding something important.

"Why do you act so surprised? I came here for your support...Come here, I wish to ask you of something."

"Don't worry, you won't get it!," spoke an unknown voice from the shadows.

"Who—," I stuttered with excitement.

Out of the curtained corner of the chamber marched a Hittite general in full battle gear. "I said it, you feeble rat!"

I questioned NefroNephtis about the figure. She told me that he, while I was away, had taken her for his wife and the city as his country. I refused to listen to that nonsense.

"NefroNephtis, why?"

"He offered me riches beyond what you found here in my city. And that was not all," she told me while sobbing. "He told me to keep your attention while his army takes all of Kemt away from you. That would have worked if you didn't come here this night. Nebakhre, please forgive me! I didn't mean this. Please—," she croaked. I had had enough.

"Stand your ground, Hittite scum!" I ordered as I swiftly whipped out my dagger.

"Should you attack or even kill me, which I doubt, then my forces will tell my lord. Then it will be war!"

"Then war it shall be!" I shouted angrily. I advanced to the Hittite with the dagger at my side. He stepped forward and swung his iron mace which knocked over a vase to the floor, where it broke. I stepped aside as his next blow came forth, and then I ducked when an alabaster lamp was thrown at my head. I held my dagger by the blade and threw it at the general. It missed. He charged at me and I retreated to a wall and watched him fall out the window. He regained his footing and leapt from the windowsill and collided into me, thus knocking both of us to the tiled floor. We grappled for the iron sword a few cubits away, and I clipped his chin with my ringed fingers. He spat into my eyes, which partly blinded me, while he retrieved his sword. A soldier from outside the room entered because he heard voices and halted at the doorway. The general shouted at him, and I threw my dagger between his eyes. The soldier fell hard to the ground where I leapt into the air and grabbed his sword. The general and I fought with the swords, and I knocked his sword from his hand. Next, I dropped my sword and dashed into his chest and choked him with my bare hands. He struggled, but lost. The Hittite lay dead on the rug beside the broken vase. I regained my dagger and barricaded the door. NefroNephtis cowered near the bed when I approached her with nicks on my face and some blood dripping from my lip. I told her to pack her things. When she asked, I told her that she would be leaving soon for a city away from the Hittite empire. She refused, though I convinced her that if she stayed that she would be endangered by other generals who would rape her or torture her as a prisoner of war. At last she thought wisely and agreed to the demands. That, however, was right before she knocked me unconscious with the iron mace held in her beautiful hands.

When I came to, there was no one in the room. A clay tablet lay on the floor near the window. It read: "I am sorry for leaving you, my love, but I was offered a position by the Hittite army to be a spy for them. In return, I would be a queen. They will arrive in two weeks to capture this city and move on from there to other lands which dare threaten the empire. Again I am sorry. Perhaps we will meet again, my love. Farewell, Lord Nebakhre. I will always think of you and your kindness toward me. Love, NefroNephtis." This was the last thread of flax that I could endure. First my son is killed, then my wife kills herself. Now my only flame of happiness has been extinguished; all this in the name of love...I was in love with a traitor, and I didn't even know it. It was just as well. Just my bad luck, I guess.