TWO

Yet, if they would steal his pride so would he play with their patience. While he related matters of interest and gave some observations on what he had learned, all the same, he managed to speak of his second existence, and of his third, in hardly more time then it took to tell of Tyre and New Tyre, and, in every bend of his manner, was ready to suggest that he would seek to finish before the rise of the sun.

I cannot say why, but there was much in my great-grandfather’s reluctance that brought back my uneasy thoughts of Nef-khep-aukhem, and although I had never spent a night in the desert, now I felt as if we were gathered about the embers of a fire, while outside the circle of our light, beasts were gathering.

“In my second life,” said Menenhetet, “I grew up in the Gardens of the Secluded as the son of Honey-Ball, and slept in her bed every night. Yet I also had dreams of my true mother and saw Her poor face in many of these dreams and would wake up in terror for She had no nose. The revenge of Usermare was terrible. Before He banished Nefertiri, He cut off Her nostrils, and She lived the rest of Her life behind a veil and never came back to Thebes.”

“Aiiigh,” said Hathfertiti.

“Aiiigh,” said my great-grandfather, and observed a silence. “Since my dreams were not only frightful but true, Honey-Ball decided to tell the story of how I came to her, and I learned of these matters when I was six and much like our own Menenhetet the Second, a beautiful little boy, and wiser in my ways than most young men, for wisdom like perfume rises out of its own essence. So I understood, even before she told me, that Honey-Ball was not my mother, not at least by the cord that leads from one life to the next, although I always felt she was of the nearest flesh to myself. Indeed, after I was told the name of my true mother, I came to think that in the eyes of the Gods, Honey-Ball and Nefertiri must be like Great Sisters, even as Isis and Nephthys, and each with her own fearful scar.”

“Can you tell us,” asked Ptah-nem-hotep, “how you were sent from one to the other?”

“I was told that Nefertiri stayed in seclusion all the while She was pregnant, and so no one knew of this state but Her nearest servant. I would wish to think that She honored our hour or two of love sufficiently to take these many precautions and thereby keep me in Her belly. Afterward, but a few days old, I was sent to Honey-Ball by way of a eunuch and a wet-nurse. Stupefied by three drops of kolobi so that I would neither fret nor bawl, I was delivered by Pepti in a hamper of fruit through the Gates of the Secluded and passed under the eyes of Senedj. Pepti, after taking a prodigious bribe twice, once from Nefertiri, and again from Honey-Ball, stayed in the Gardens long enough on that day to make an addition to the records. So in the Ledger of the Coming-Forth of Usermare there was now an entry that He had known Honey-Ball on a day to confirm that it was His infant she now held in her arms. She was, of course, so heavy that no one could claim she was or was not pregnant in the time between.”

“I am amazed,” said Ptah-nem-hotep, “that Pepti would take such a chance for any amount of gold. He was the Vizier, after all.”

“He was nothing if not audacious,” said Menenhetet. “But then, to make up for his own loss by surgery, he ate the testicles of bulls every day to gain valor. Besides, he had an advantage he could count upon with the two women. If they wished to destroy him, they must destroy themselves as well. Given their concern for me, he could keep a grip on them. In truth, I think he saw them as most useful instruments for his future purposes. But he never had the opportunity. Given the excitements of his high office, he gorged too much on rich meat and drank volumes of spiced wine until he grew an ulcer. Long before I was old enough to hear the story, he was already gone, bled to death inside, and died in large fear of Khert-Neter despite the knowledge that Usermare was bound to give him a great funeral. It is my observation that none fear death more than the most clever of the scribes.”

He sighed. “Having been told this much about my true mother, I can say that I thought of Her often. There was a statue of Nefertiri in the Gardens of the Secluded. There She stood, naked, and without a navel. It was only when I was old enough to leave the Gardens that I came to understand how fine, in this situation, was the humor of Usermare. For now, I saw many statues of Her, all with the same blank belly, and all with Her name in a cartouche on the back to inform you that She was the Great Consort of the King, yes, He had statues made of Her after She was, for all purposes, His Consort no more, and lived alone in solitude in a small place in a foreign land, some said as far away as Byblos. That was the mother of whom I dreamed and I always saw Her face behind a veil. But that was all I saw of Her. I grew up in the Gardens as a Ramesside, as the son of Usermare by a little queen who was neither a favorite, nor young.”

“Did she teach her magic again?” asked my Father.

“Honey-Ball now practiced it less. The Invocation to Isis may have swallowed some of her gifts, and her exchange of curses with Heqat, Usermare, and Nefertiri must have consumed more. Besides, who can say what Rama-Nefru took from her? I still hear the body of Mer-mer crash into the wall. Say it was kindness enough for Honey-Ball to tell me about the Master of the Secrets who had been my father. Yet with all she knew, many recollections came to me more clearly than to her. I did not know why, not then, but when I was still very young, I was able to correct her about the color of the gown Nefertiri wore to the Collation, and when Honey-Ball recollected that she was wrong, and the linen had indeed been pale-gold, she did not say a word for three days but conducted many rites of purification.

“That, however, was a rare occasion, and she performed her ceremonies less, and began to enjoy gossip more. Since I was not only her child but her confidant, I heard a great deal about Usermare and Rama-Nefru. Be certain, I listened to all I could hear. After all, He had preferred Rama-Nefru over my mother. Honey-Ball, like a true gossip, was wicked in what she told, yet curiously impartial, as if the story was worth more than any affection or animus for the person. So I learned that Rama-Nefru, after grieving for the death of Peht-a-Ra, had other children and put on a great deal of weight, and Her hair returned, although now it was darker.

“Listening to Honey-Ball and, indeed, to the stories of other little queens when they stopped by, I learned of the visits Usermare and Rama-Nefru began to make to the harem at Miwer in the Fayum, which was where She had been sent when first She came to Egypt. It was much remarked among our little queens in Thebes that Rama-Nefru had finally learned to enjoy a good deal more of Usermare than His five fingertips and began to participate with Him in parties for the little queens of Miwer until it was said that Rama-Nefru not only loved women more than She loved Him, but became the only woman who could chastise Usermare. They said He loved to bellow like a bull on those occasions when She used a flail. How can I know if this is so?

“Then a change came into the lives of all of us in Thebes. I do not understand why it was done, unless the presence of Nefertiri and Amen-khep-shu-ef would not leave His thoughts, but there came a year when Usermare decided to move His Palace, His Vizier, His Governor, His Superintendents and Officers from Thebes to Memphi. Of course, most of His new temples and nearly all of His wars and trading were to the North. Besides, Rama-Nefru desired the change. As He did all things, so did He move entirely, and Memphi became His new capital.

“That was a great loss to the Gardens of the Secluded. They would never be the same, not under any Pharaoh. Usermare brought a few of the youngest little queens to Miwer, which is, after all, close to Memphi, and took care of those who remained behind. But He never visited the Secluded any longer, not even when in Thebes. Since I, at the age of ten, gave every proof of being a sickly boy who would never make a warrior, I had already been sent to the School of the Temple of Amon at Karnak to be instructed in the disciplines of priests, and a year later, Honey-Ball was given permission to leave the Gardens, as many an older little queen was now doing. Immediately, she took a house near my school in order to visit me often.

“That, however, was only one of many changes. While the wealth and the power of Amon still belonged to Thebes, most of the Notables soon deserted their mansions to move to the Court at Memphi. Thebes continued to live as a great city, but only by way of its priests who began to carry themselves like men of great wealth so soon as they came to occupy the empty villas. There came a day when you could not know where the Temple ended and the town began.

“Yet, as the years went by, Usermare also tired of Rama-Nefru, and finally married one of His own daughters by the third Queen, Esonefret, the plain and ugly woman who had never been given His fair attention. Her daughter, Bint-Anath, also plain as a young girl, grew more agreeable later, and was always with Usermare in the last years of His Reign. He even gave Her the title of King’s Great Wife which made Bint-Anath equal to Her mother, to Rama-Nefru, and to Nefertiri. Usermare lived closely with this daughter in His old age, and also gave many favors to the only one of His sons by Nefertiri who was not dead, the same fourth son, Kham-Uese, who used to carry the Golden Bowl. Yes, Kham-Uese became renowned not only as a High Priest of Ptah in Memphi, but as a great magician, and later was sent to foreign lands to show his skills.”

“I have heard of him,” said Ptah-nem-hotep. “He is the ancestor of our Khem-Usha. I also share that name, Kham-Uese. It is one of My favorite names. I am curious. Can you tell Me? Is it true that this son of Ramses the Second, Kham-Uese, was truly the last of our great magicians who could chop off the neck of a goose, lay the head on one side of a temple, the body on the other, then coax the two halves to come together, whereupon the goose would cackle?”

“It is all but true. I saw him do it once, and both parts of the goose did not move, only the body. Moreover, it was not half around the temple, but for the distance of the long side, sixty paces I would say, and then the body did turn the corner to meet the head. While the goose never cackled, still its wings flapped once. It is not a true magic, however. By great effort, I used to be able, when I was a young priest, to direct my thoughts into the body of a just-beheaded goose in such a manner that instead of flopping all about, I could send it forward in a straight line for as much as twenty paces. This, however, was my best effort, and while I was considered good at the practice in my time, I never became so skilled as to take the bird around the corner, nor could I prevail upon it to flap its wings when it met the head. Back in the time of Khufu, more magicians, doubtless, were adept at such matters. I am sure the four sides of the temple were traversed then, and the goose would cackle. But I would say the skills of Kham-Uese were only impressive to me before I learned a few of them myself. Still, I can tell You that if Usermare kept any noble sentiments for Nefertiri, it could be seen in His devotion to this son who certainly turned out well after a most unpromising youth. Even so, He died many years before His Father. Of course, that was not unusual for the sons of Ramses the Second. Usermare became very old, and most of His sons were gone before Him, indeed, He lived for so long that I, in my second life, even became High Priest of Amon in Thebes before He was gone. Toward the end, after Kham-Uese died, He drew close to me, and although the trip up the river grew difficult for Him, the old Pharaoh would visit Thebes, or summon me to Memphi. Having no idea that He might have known me before, He treated me, nonetheless, like the son of a true Queen, not a little queen. I remember Him saying in His old man’s voice, ‘I want you to do your best to speak to the Lord Osiris for Me.’

“ ‘It will be done,’ I would say.

“ ‘Tell Him to pay attention to the temples I have built. There, He will see how I wish all matters to continue. The inscriptions on the stones will tell Him what He needs to know.’

“ ‘It will be done.’

“ ‘The Lord Osiris is a very intelligent and noble God,’ Usermare would say in the last of His voice, and He sounded like two shards of pottery being rubbed together. He had added chambers, pylons, obelisks, colonnades and halls to many a great temple in Egypt, and a myriad of statues had His name, but by His last year, He was void, I can tell You, of the sense of smell, the clear sight of His eyes, the hearing of His ear and the pitch of His voice—I was one of the few who could distinguish any of His words—and He had very little memory. All the same, it took Him one full season of flood, and one of sowing, to die. For the last month, He hardly breathed. So faint was the wind from His heart that over the final three days many of us disputed whether or not He was still alive since no hair in His nose would stir and His skin was almost as cold as the stone that would receive Him. Yet His eyes, after many an interval, would blink.

“Near His mortuary temple in Western Thebes, one pillar of rose granite is carved: ‘I am Usermare, King of Kings. He who would know who I am, and where I rest, must first surpass one of My deeds.’

“Who could replace Him? It was Merenptah, His thirteenth son, the brother of Bint-Anath. What a pity I never knew Esonefret. That plain and stupid Queen may have had virtues no one saw if Her children did so well. Yes, Merenptah was the thirteenth of Ramses’ sons by all His Queens, and the twelve before were dead. So He was old when He became Pharaoh, bald and fat, and He had waited long. The enemies of Egypt took new courage when Sesusi was no more. If His reputation had lived among them like a lion, so for forty years there had been no true struggle. Now, all were ready to march against Merenptah. Yet, He treated the Libyans and Syrians as if He were a Hittite. Woe to those tribes He conquered! He did not make trophies of hands, but had His soldiers cast the genitals of the dead into a pile. He would attempt more than His Father! Of course, it was long since we had known a war or a victory.

“Of little use was it to Him. Merenptah died five years later in the Tenth Year of His Reign and His tomb was built in a great hurry. Stones were taken from the sanctuary of Amenhotep the Third, and Merenptah even dared to cut His name on some of the monuments of His Father. Of course, I knew little of this Pharaoh, for my second life came to an end only a few years after Usermare’s death, and my third life was spent under many a reign. There was one who was Seti the Second, and then a Siptah, and a woman named Tiwoseret, while in between was even a Merenptah-Siptah. For a time, there were no Kings at all. Just so confused were the Two-Lands by the loss of Usermare, and for many years the river was low.”

“You tell us nothing of yourself,” my Father complained at last.

“He will not,” said Hathfertiti.

It was then I felt anger. My great-grandfather had been like a Pharaoh to me and I trembled constantly in his presence, yet now, I felt pity for his exhaustion. “Can’t you see,” I cried out, “that he is tired! Even as I am weary.” My voice must have carried the echo of a grown man, for Ptah-nem-hotep began to laugh, and then my mother, and Menenhetet last of all.

Now, Ptah-nem-hotep said more gently, “I will not insist. It is just that I am familiar with much of what you tell Me, and so would be more interested to hear of your life as a High Priest.”

My great-grandfather nodded. I do not know if it was my defense of him, but he looked revived. Or, was it, sly? “There is justice,” he said, “in rebuking me for what I have not done. Let me attempt to be a stranger to You no more.”