Ancient Evenings (42 page)

“Bak-ne-khon-su began to speak to Amon. He had a light voice, and he spoke tenderly as if to the God Himself, using the quiet tones of a man who has spent every day in the service of his ruler, and never uncomfortable in the life he had chosen. While the priests held the ram’s head by the altar, its neck above the fount, Bak-ne-khon-su approached with a sacrificial knife and began to utter the words Amon once spoke to the King Thutmose the Third,

‘I have made them see Thy Majesty as a circling star ‘Who scatters its flame in fire and gives forth its dew.’

“He drew the knife across the neck of the ram, and the animal gave one shake of its horns as if it had just looked into the eye of the sun. Then it stood there shaking to some piteous quivering of its heart. We listened to the sound of blood dripping down upon blood. It is so much more serious than the little cry of water falling on other water.

“Bak-ne-khon-su said:

‘I have made them see Thy Majesty as a crocodile,

‘The Lord of Fear in the water,

‘I give Thee to smite those who live on islands.

‘In the midst of the Very Green, they hear Thy roar.’

*   *   *

“And on that,” said Menenhetet, “with the skill of a Royal Carpenter splitting a post, so did Bak-ne-khon-su kneel before this ram held by the four priests, and, in the dim light, took a long cut with the knife down the ram’s body that not one in a hundred good butchers could have repeated, so quick and certain was the gesture. All of the loose organs, the stomach, the entrails, the liver, and the spleen, fell with a sigh to the stone, and the animal tumbled over. I saw an expression of great beauty come over its worried face and pass from the eyes to the nostrils. I saw its expression change from a twitching terrified beast to a noble one, as if it knew that its life was out there on the stone, and the Gods were offering attention. Like all that lives, the Gods know how to feed on the dead. May the dead not learn to feed upon us.”

It was a small remark, yet in the warm night under the soft glow of the fireflies, I knew that fear when we cannot say of what we are afraid. Is it of wild animals, evil friends, or angry Gods? Or are they gathered together in the same air?

“That sacrifice,” said Menenhetet, “was of relief to me. I had been close to the dread warriors often feel before a battle, and had hardly been able to breathe as the ram was led forward. Yet the final convulsion of its legs relieved a noose upon my chest, and I took in all the air I could, all the cavernous odors of flesh that has been packed in darkness upon flesh.

“Bak-ne-khon-su knelt then and laid his ten fingers on the entrails and lifted the topmost coils gently to search the turns beneath. Near the center, like a snake that had swallowed a rabbit, was a swelling in one loop, and I felt a congestion in my throat, and will try to explain, for in truth it was an uncouth age compared to ours, that in those days we studied the entrails with much seriousness. The animal might be dead, but in its coils had been left the power to fertilize the land. So these entrails had as much to tell as any piece of gold. The gold we spend may no longer belong to us, but on its travels it inspires great warmth in others.”

“If this is what they call philosophy,” said my mother, “it has a mighty stench.”

“On the contrary,” said Ptah-nem-hotep, “I am fascinated by the places through which your heart has passed. You study what others choose to wash away.”

Menenhetet nodded at the fine edge of this remark, and went on.

“Standing around the circle of silver sand, our eyes on the navel of the little gold belly of Amon, we waited while the priests cut away pieces of meat from the haunch of the ram, and laid them on the fire of the altar. There, in the thick air of the smoke as new blood charred on the hot stone, we felt the worth of the ram pass into the bellies of the Gods Who were waiting—which is to say I felt close to a great force in the room. Then I heard the voice of Amon stirring His golden belly, even as Bak-ne-khon-su had stirred the entrails of the ram. The High Priest began to speak, but no longer in his own tones, rather in a sound mighty as the echo of a great chamber. Out of the lungs and throat of Bak-ne-khon-su came a huge and unforgettable voice:

“ ‘To the King Who is My slave. Seven times may You fall at My feet. For You are the footstool of My feet, the groom of My horse, You are My dog.’

“ ‘I am Your dog,’ whispered Ramses. He had trouble speaking, but I could never have uttered a word. My teeth ground upon one another like bone mortared to bone. Never had the voice of Amon been so great in the Sanctuary. Walls could have shattered from the power of that voice. ‘Yes, I am Your dog,’ repeated Ramses, ‘and I live in fear of Your displeasure. This morning, a cloud passed before the face of Amon-Ra.’

“Bak-ne-khon-su was silent, and the voice of Amon was silent, but a babble came from the fire. Through the crackle of the flames, I could hear many voices, and as if this were the sound of many princes and persons inquiring of Him, Ramses the Second now opened His jaws and with as much courage, I am certain, as if I had tried to speak into the mouth of a cave where a beast was waiting, so did He say, ‘You Who are Ra and Amon are the God of all good and great soldiers, and I bow before You.’ My Pharaoh began to tremble like the ram as He spoke: ‘Last night an officer came into My presence with a message from the King of the Hittites, Metella, who declares that he wishes to insult the Two-Lands. He has killed our allies, and taken many cattle and sheep. Now he is in his city of Kadesh with a mighty army and challenges Me to war. He challenges Me! Help Me to avenge this insult.’

“Ramses the Second began to weep—a sight I had never seen before. In a voice that choked, He whispered, ‘A cloud covered the sun this morning. I shiver before Him Who dares to insult You. I feel weak in My limbs.’

“The air was heavy with burning meat,” said Menenhetet, “an odor so heavy I would not breathe it again until the Battle of Kadesh, but through that thickness of smoke and the lamentations of the Pharaoh, a silence followed. I would swear I saw the corners of the painted mouth of Amon turn downward in displeasure. Yet through the smoke, and by the white light that still trembled in my heart when I closed my eyes, how could I know what I saw? I had not eaten since dawn, and the smell of meat burning on the altar inflamed my stomach. Then, the great clamor of the voice of Amon was heard again in the throat of Bak-ne-khon-su. In cries of fearful rage, so did Amon say: ‘If You betray Me, Your legs will run like water down a hill, Your right arm is dead, Your heart will weep forever. But if You are with Me, they will see You as a Lord of Light. You will shine over their heads like Myself. You will be like a lion in his rage. You will crush the barbarian, and crouch over their corpses in the valley. You will be safe on the sea. The Very Green will be like a string tied to Your wrist. Yes!’ said Amon in a voice so great that Bak-ne-khon-su’s lips went still and the golden statue began to vibrate on the seat of its cabin in the Bark (until, through my closed eyes, I could see those gold lips moving beneath their rouge) ‘Yes, they will look upon Your Majesty as My two Princes, Horus and Set. It is Their arms I bring together to guard Your victory. Bring to My temples the gold and jewels of Asia.’

“ ‘I am as Your dog,’ said my Pharaoh, ‘even as the soldiers are My dogs, and the soldiers of the Hittites are My soldiers’ dogs.’ He bowed again and the God was silent. Soon we left the Sanctuary for the banquet room and there ate part of the meat of the ram that Amon had left for us after His own meal was done. I was much impressed by the superior taste of this food and thought His saliva might still be flavoring it.

“ ‘Come,’ said Ramses the Second before I was finished with the meal, and His eyes were still red from weeping, ‘come with Me to cross the river. I want to visit My tomb.’ ”

FOUR

“I Had much to think about,” my great-grandfather told us, “as we were rowed across to the Western Bank of Thebes. I had just heard the most powerful voice ever to enter my head, and my ears rang. In other years, when I became a priest and was instructed in the mysteries of language, I came to learn that the sounds uttered by a God are equal to what He desires. So in ancient days, a God could say: ‘chair,’ and lo!, there was a chair.

“Of course, in these years, we are not close to the Gods. We can roar like a lion, but we can never call the beast forth.

“I, however, on this morning of which I speak, had just heard a mighty voice issue from a heart of gold. It had captured the lips and throat of Bak-ne-khon-su, and made him serve as the voice of Amon. So we knew that victory would be ours if we were faithful.

“That, all the same, was what dismayed me now. Today, our religious ceremonies had been different from other occasions. Usually, ten or more priests entered with a bull, not a ram, and a Reciter-Priest would stand at my Pharaoh’s elbow to whisper which prayer came next, or how many steps to take.”

“They have such a fellow today,” said Ptah-nem-hotep, “but his manner is not altogether civil.”

“It was otherwise, then,” said Menenhetet, “and done with great respect. Once, I counted a hundred separate gestures accompanying one prayer and, in my ignorance, missed another hundred I would learn later as a priest. How then could a Monarch like Ramses the Second, with His mind fixed on war, remember the order? Yet if the King could avoid all mistakes during the service, it was our belief—we were simple in those days, I repeat—that Amon would not ignore our request. In truth, I remember how at the beginning of many a service, Bak-ne-khon-su would often place into the golden hand of Amon a roll of papyrus on which the High Priest had written a petition. Then, at the completion of prayers, Bak-ne-khon-su would take it back. Feeling its presence in his palm, he would be able to state whether the Great God wished to say yes or no to the request. Of course, I always believed Bak-ne-khon-su could interpret the word of Amon. There were other High Priests, however, in other years whom I did not trust as well. I thought the answers to their petitions told me more about the servant than about the wisdom of Amon. All the same, when I became a High Priest myself (and I was, I must say, no model of purity like Bak-ne-khon-su, but reached such a position only by my nearness to Ramses the Second in my second life when I was young and He was very old) I learned that I, too, was not ready to pass over the word of the God. No, the feelings of Amon were too fearsome to ignore when the roll of papyrus quivered in one’s hand.”

“Your lives are as strange as the taste of a new spice,” said our Pharaoh and smiled at my mother. At this sign of attention given to her, first in some time, she was quick to smile back, but in her mind (and I, listening to our great-grandfather with all of my attention, had not been near to her mind for a while) now saw her hand move forward in her thoughts to touch her Fingertips to a surface as lovely as her own skin, but it was under the skirt of Ptah-nem-hotep that her hand would travel, and His thigh was the one she stroked in her thoughts, upon which the Pharaoh sat up in His chair and felt for His leopard tail. “You were speaking,” He said to Menenhetet, “of the power of petition of a High Priest.”

“Yes,” said my great-grandfather. “If my request asked the Pharaoh to enrich the Temple of Thebes, I would know the answer I desired. A High Priest must increase the wealth of his Temple. Amon’s confidence being gained by gifts, it is gained best by great gifts. So, my petition might beg Amon to instruct our old Ramses to give over to the Temple a tenth more of the tribute He had received from Libya in the last year. My hand, as it touched the petition, expected to hear no response from Amon but Yes, yet with all my desire for such a result, I could feel the clear displeasure of the Hidden One if on a given morning He did not desire such added tribute.”

“Did you then announce this conclusion?” Ptah-nem-hotep asked.

“I cannot remember, my Lord. My only recollection is that I would dread such a reply when it came on me. How awful was the touch of the petition when it said: No! The papyrus could feel as unpleasant as a snakeskin.

“Now, I, of course, on the day we crossed the river to visit the tomb of Ramses the Second, knew little of these fine matters. I only understood that nothing had taken place as on other mornings.

“I was not surprised, therefore, that it became a day where every event was unexpected. No sooner had we landed at the wharf on the Western Bank of Thebes than my Pharaoh invited me into His Chariot for the first time, and the horses were as shocked as myself to recognize that Nefertiri was not present. The names of these horses, I remember, were Strength-of-Thebes and Maat-is-Satisfied, a stallion and a mare, and the mare, as you would expect, was remarkably like Nefertiri. She never liked to be separated from her mate. You had only to command Strength-of-Thebes and it was as if you had spoken to the eight legs of both beasts. Nor were these horses ever happier than when the Queen rode with the King.