ONE

Like an old man whose throat is a pot of phlegm, Menenhetet began to cackle at these foul jokes awaiting us. “Put a divine lady before Ra,” he said, “or a slippery old sow—it was all equal to Him. He liked them all. His only problem was to find a wife cool enough to bear His heat. So He settled on the Goddess of the sky.” Menenhetet began to choke in laughter once more. “Ra could change the shape of His prick to any of the forty-two animals: ram, ox, hippo, lion—just pick the beast!—but He once made the mistake of telling Nut that He did not like to make love to a cow. So She chose to live in the body of one. It is always that way with marriage.” He nodded. “Whenever She could, Nut rushed down to the mud-baths with Geb. What a wallow! Revenge is never so dear to a woman as when her perfidies go right up her husband’s nose. Ra was so infuriated that for the next five nights, five children were put into Her womb. Ra and Geo were on Her so constantly that the earth steamed and the sky was covered with fog.”

Now Menenhetet ceased talking. A sadness came upon his face, as if the matters of which he would next speak could not be called amusing. “Now, whether,” he said, “these five offspring were fathered by Ra (whose children They were immediately declared to be) or belonged to Geb, will never be known, but by one or the other, Nut gave birth in the first hour to Osiris, and in the second, Horus was delivered; on the third, Set burst out of His mother’s side, thereby creating a rent in the sky through which lightning could strike. Isis came out in a dew of moisture, and Nephthys, born last, was given the Secret Name of Victory for She was the most beautiful. She would yet marry Her brother Set, even as Isis was wed to Osiris (although it is said of Isis and Osiris that They were already in love with one another within the womb). Under such circumstances, how can one ask who was half sister and brother?”

Here his voice came so close to my ear that I did not know any longer how his knowledge was imparted. When I closed my eyes, the story even seemed to belong for a little while to me, and, indeed, I could hear the voice of Ra.

“I look upon My children,” He shouted, “and do not know if They are Mine, or crawling things from the caverns of Geb. I am damaged even as I damn Them, for I cannot say whether I curse Them unfairly, or not enough.”

The three brothers, Horus, Osiris, and Set, and the sisters Isis and Nephthys lived in a house full of bad omens. Even as children, They played at treachery and dreamed of murder. The curse of Ra passed into the marriage of Isis and Osiris, and the marriage of Set and Nephthys.

Yet what a difference between them. Isis loved Osiris and found Him more attractive than Herself, whereas Nephthys was miserable. Set’s body scorched Her belly. Under the fire of His temper, She felt the stones of the desert. “How can My name be Victory,” asked Nephthys, “if My womb burns when He enters Me?” But Osiris was as cool as the shade of an oasis. His fingers were tender when He passed a dish. There came a night when Nephthys betrayed Her husband with Osiris.

Now, Set had a plant which bloomed each night on His return, yet this evening the plant was limp.

“Lift your face,” said Set, “for I am here.”

In response, the plant fell dead. Now Set knew that Nephthys was with Osiris, and when She came back, He could see that the night with His brother had been more beautiful to Her than any hour with Him. Then, Nephthys confessed that She had conceived, but with a joy in Her voice He never heard before. The hatred of Set began to grow upon this shame. He fornicated with Nephthys every night, and the thought of Osiris whipped His hips to a gallop. He worked so hard to crush the creation in Her belly that the mother began to feel loathing for what She carried. In the hour of birth, Nephthys wept, and could not look at the baby’s face. Conceived in beauty, the creature came out as misshapen as the depredations of Her womb. A face of mean ferocity was presented, and it gave off a low odor—Anubis, the God with the head of a jackal, had been born. Nephthys carried this Anubis to the desert, and exposed Him. But Her sister, Isis, was determined that the infant should not be lost. If Anubis was the proof of Her husband’s most treacherous hour, still Isis knew that the infant should not be lost.

Menenhetet now said aloud, “Whoever is born out of treachery must not be slain against his will.”

“Why would that be true?” I asked.

“Because demons are conceived when people die in rage.”

I did not like what he said. In what manner had my own end come? To hide my uneasiness, I told him, “You are reputed to have killed every slave who would not work.”

“That was in the gold mines, and I did not kill them. They died of overwork. Besides I never said I did not wish to deliver demons,” replied Menenhetet One, and shivered. Like the sound of water readying to boil were the whispers of his voice. Yet I still saw all he had to tell, and most clearly. So I knew that Isis, hunting with dogs offered the scent of linen stained with the birth, soon found the baby. Menenhetet One sniffed at his finger, and a scent of sour blood passed over to me. He merely smiled at this passing display of his powers.

“Isis,” he said, “trained the child to be Her guard. Now, Anubis is the jackal who holds the scales of judgment. Before Him, the dead must appear. Have you forgotten that as well?” When I made no sign, he nodded. “In one pan is placed the dead man’s heart, on the other is laid the feather of truth, and woe to the dead if the scales do not balance. Anubis can judge such things. His first day had no more promise of long life than is given to a feather. You may come before Anubis yet.” Menenhetet smiled, but when I offered nothing, he merely shrugged, and took up his account again. “Contemplate the murderous rage of Set,” he said. “His wife’s bastard was still alive. Set swore a vengeance that would never weaken no matter how many years He had to wait, and they were many. For Osiris was not only the first King of Egypt, but the greatest. He had taught us how to grow wheat, and make beer from barley, how to cultivate corn, raise good grapes and ferment good wine. He even taught us how to ferment the fermentation and find the seven powers and spirits of the soul in a cup of kolobi. But then, Osiris began to travel over the Very Green to pass on this knowledge to more ignorant lands and it proved foolhardy. He was so worshipped at every court that by the time of His return to Egypt, He had become too aware of His beauty.

“In the first month of His homecoming, Set invited Him to a great feast, and excited the vanity of Osiris by telling Him of a magnificent chest that He had built to fit the body of the God closest to Temu.

“Set called for the chest to be brought, and commanded the seventy-two Gods of His Court to lay within it one by one. The box fit none of Them. Nor did it match the proportions of Set. At last it became the turn of Osiris, and He was a perfect fit. ‘You are so beautiful,’ said Set, as His brother lay down. Then He slammed the cover. Seven of His warriors sealed it with molten metal.

“Now they carried the chest to the Nile and lay it on the water. It floated away on an afternoon when the sun was in the sign of the scorpion. And Osiris was gone.

“When Isis heard of this, She let out a cry that became part of the shriek men utter when they behold their own wound, and She began to search for the coffin in the marshes of the Delta and in the swamps.”

And I, as if suffering an equal blow, now moved and sat with the side of my face against the cool wood of poor Meni’s burial case, poor Meni indeed! Who, but myself! As Menenhetet One continued to tell his story, I think I must have crawled out along a branch of sleep and fallen from there into another sleep since I only came back into the passage of his voice after the coffin of Osiris had floated all the way down the waters of the Nile and was out at sea on a voyage to Byblos by the shores of Lebanon. There I heard the smack of the last wave as the box was lifted by a swell into the branches of a little evergreen growing out of the rocks on the beach. Yet that poor shrub, twisted by every wind, began to thrive as soon as Osiris came to it, and its trunk grew right around the coffin and rose to prodigious height until the King of Byblos saw it and thereupon had the tree cut down and made into the central pillar of his new palace.

To this shore came Isis, led by Her seven scorpions, and when She arrived at the court of Byblos, and the Queen received Her, Isis smelled of a fragrance sweeter than any garden.

To this Queen, Astarte, the first measure of rank was superb appearance. She only wished those as lovely as herself to come near. Therefore, she welcomed Isis; indeed, they cherished each other so tenderly that Isis could even ask the Queen to beg the King to cut down the pillar, and thereby free Her husband from the coffin. It was a monumental request. The greatest room in Byblos would be destroyed. From the day, however, that he had felled the tree to build the chamber, this King, Melkarth, had become secretly fearful of the silence in his palace. So he agreed.

When the chest was opened, however, Osiris was found in a dreadful state. His face was covered by worms. Isis let out a cry of lamentation, and so loud was the clamor of Her voice that the youngest child of Melkarth died in fright. Blood poured from his ears.

The death was not wholly lamentable to the King. He was far from convinced of the paternity of this son for he had been stricken with impotence as soon as the magnificent tree was down. Now, he felt desire for his wife come back, and he took the Queen to his rooms, and tried to be happy, but could not. He feared to enjoy himself so soon after such a death. It might cost another. But then Melkarth realized that he trusted none of his sons, and was therefore ready, on Isis’ departure, to lend Her the oldest of his boys to serve as crew.

Her ship had hardly gone from sight of land before ministrations were begun over the body in the coffin. Loosing the seven scorpions from the hem of Her skirt, She instructed them to devour the worms that lived on the face and limbs of Osiris. The scorpions worked with all the speed of the wind in the sails, and were as round as pigeon’s eggs before evening. Now, Isis crushed these sluggish bodies to make an unguent, and thereby cast off all protection such scorpions could provide—indeed, even as She killed them, She knew they would send a message to their brothers: “Beware of Isis!”—yet She was determined to repair the beauty of Osiris. The oil for such a restoration could be found only in the bellies of these scorpions full of worms. So, She rubbed this unguent upon Her legs and belly. Having stripped Her skirt for this purpose, She thereby aroused the poor Prince of Byblos until his seed was on the deck. This, She also added to Her skin (for the Prince was favored with the features of his mother) and then washed Osiris in the salve by laying Her body upon Her dead husband and, by this, so excited the return of His seven scattered lights that He came back from all the swamps, harbors, mountains and seas of His death to the home of His body. In this hour, young again, and beautiful, lying on His back, He discharged His seed up into Isis, and it was the first time a Goddess ever dared to sit upon a God. The Prince of Byblos, spying on this copulation, was struck with such a look of malevolence from Isis that he died on the spot and fell into the sea, and Horus, the other brother of Osiris, also died at that instant (breaking His back in a fall from a horse) whereupon Horus, the child of Isis and Osiris, was conceived in the same moment, but He came out with a weakness in His legs. Since Gods do not often die, Horus, the newborn, was a transformation of Horus, the brother, and it is certain the child grew quickly and was a full-grown man in fourteen years. But they were to be hard years. Isis knew that Ra and Set were waiting for Her.

When She came back to Egypt, Isis looked, therefore, to hide the chest containing Her husband. Yet it was not easy to find a place. For the coffin had to rest where the direct rays of Ra could fall upon it. The Sun could only send a curse upon Gods Who tried to hide from Him. Osiris would be safe from Ra’s wrath, if His coffin were not buried. Therefore, Isis chose a shallow lake in the swamps of the Delta, and fixed the box with stones so that it would not float away from the papyrus plants surrounding it; yet, with the lid removed, Osiris could lay open to Ra for His blessing.

Still, Isis felt far from secure. Since Ra could always lay a curse when He went behind a cloud, She had had, at considerable cost, to make Her peace with the scorpions. She took a vow to protect their safety for all their lives to come. It was necessary. She had need of them. Scorpions were that rare species for whom the rays of the Sun are an irritant. So, when the Sun hid itself, they were quick to come out of the ground and wait by the coffin of Osiris. All through the day, therefore, whether in sun or by the vigilance of the scorpions in the gloom, the body of Osiris was guarded. And at night, in the darkest hour of the night when Ra wandered through the underworld, in that wholly dark hour when the scorpions began to sleep, then Isis was confident Set could not find His brother in such a swamp. Besides, Anubis reigned in this hour of greatest darkness, and He was loyal to Isis—which is to say, true so long as He could be. The powers of Anubis might be steadfast in the dark, but loyalty paled just before the dawn when He knew the hour of the jackal, and would wander off.

Now, for months, Set had slept by day and ridden by night, but to no purpose until He convinced Ra to ask the Moon to travel for all of one night into the dawn.

So Set obtained a few more hours of moonlight. But He still had to find the swamp where His brother was hidden. Therefore, He called upon every memory. That was equal to saying His pride had to writhe again in all the shame of the cuckold. Yet if He was obliged to think of Nephthys with Osiris, it was but a step from there to see Osiris in the embrace of Isis, and that made it possible for Set to enter the thoughts of Isis. So, on this night, when the sun was down, Set offered His breath to the evening sky and to the dark ridges of the earth (His mother and father, no less!) and turned slowly until His thoughts could look into Isis where She lived in the town of Buto. Motionless as a hunter, Set waited until the moment when the depth of early night was lit by the moon rising over the swamp. Then, into His mind, at the moment it came into Isis’ mind, arrived the image of the grove where Osiris was hidden. Set spurred His horse, and charged up and down the swamp in search of that view until in a fever of sweat, laved in His own coating of mud, there in the last of the moonlight in the hour of the jackal, He found the open chest unguarded, the scorpions sleeping, and Anubis gone. In this pale hour before dawn, Set lifted His sword and butchered the dead body of His brother, hacking free the heart, the backbone and the neck, the head and legs and arms, Osiris’ stomach, His intestines, His chest, His liver, even His gall bladder, His buttocks! Set would certainly have amputated the genitals if He had not stopped to make a count and discovered He had fourteen pieces already, a number twice seven, thereby a formidable doubling of bad luck to His enemies. But then His frustration was great because He could not mutilate His brother further, and His blood raged until He raised His sword and chopped off His own thumb. And left it in the mouth of Osiris. With His horse, He carried the coffin and the fourteen pieces back to camp, then sent His men to deliver the chest to the camp of Isis. Now He got ready to travel up the Nile. Employing a galley of the most powerful oarsmen in the kingdom, His boat would sail, He knew, and be rowed faster, than Isis could ever follow, and on this journey He would bury the parts of Osiris in different places. But first, in all the vigors of His victory, He chose to go down the separate mouths of the Delta and leave the lower limbs at Bubastis and Busiris (which is why the hieroglyph of the letter B is a drawing of a leg) and He even left one arm at Baloman for good measure, the other at Buto where Isis lived, stopping there long enough to rape Her favorite handmaiden and strew two more pieces in the swamp. Isis was helpless in this hour.

Set then left parts of Osiris at Athribis and Heliopolis and the head at Memphi, gave burial to one section of the body at Fayum, then further up the Nile to Siut, Abydos and Dendera, and feeling safe at last, trusted His men to row the long distance with the last piece up the river to Yeb. And if these men had walked, it would have taken thirty days and thirty days again. But they stopped to celebrate, and so it took twice as long.

Now, Isis lost all desire to move from Her bed. Her breast had no milk. Near to human was Isis in the depth of Her unhappiness. Set had overcome Her magic. Certainly, Her most intimate forces gave no intimation of return. In this sad time, Her thoughts drew tears whose fall gave birth to rain—a last gift of the sweet powers in the body of Osiris scattered now from the marshes of the Delta to the waters of the First Cataract.

I do not know if it was this unfamiliar sound of rain in our Egyptian air, but a haze drifted over my thoughts and I could see these Gods no longer. It was startling to recognize Menenhetet as he looked at me out of the blazing white of his eyes. “We come,” he said, “to the activities of Maat. Without Her, all might be lost for Isis.”