Heretic of the Nile

003

When the star Sirius shone at its brightest in the night sky, the people of the Two Lands gathered in joyous celebration of Wepet Renpet—the opening of the year. The festival was accorded great importance by the Egyptian people for it signaled the beginning of the annual inundation of the Nile river, the lifeblood that would ensure a bountiful harvest in the months to pass. For the weeks leading up to the festival, the common folk busied with tidying their homes, the priests prepared for the lavish rituals to the gods, and the royal court was up in arms getting ready for the grand feast—a full five days of indulgence and revelry before work began again in the new year.

The royal palace was already bustling with activity before the break of dawn on new year's day, servants rushing to and fro getting everything ready for the king's visit to the Great Temple of Ptah for the annual rituals. A row of gleaming litters stood in wait at the palace entrance, each one painted in splendid gold. There were five of them in total, the one in the middle having the grandest and most intricate carvings—reserved strictly for the king.

As the sun slowly began to rise in the horizon, more and more people gathered along the streets all the way from the palace to the Great Temple, eager to catch a glimpse of their king and princes. An excited chatter filled the air, mixed with laughter and shouts of jubilation. Ptah would bless the city of Memphis this year. The clear blue skies above were a sure indication of the gods' favour.

At the palace gates, three strapping young men stood in wait, all of them wearing the best linen shendyts the royal weavers could produce, arms and ankles adorned with elaborate gold cuffs that were befitting of their status. There were meant to be four princes accompanying the king to the temple this morning, but one was still missing.

"Where's Kha?" Nefermaat asked, his thick brows knitting together in a frown.

It was almost time for the entourage to set off and the king would be arriving soon, but there was no sign of that monkey anywhere.

"Perhaps he has fallen asleep in a ditch somewhere—again," Kanefer replied drily. Their younger half-brother had a habit of doing ridiculous things like that, sneaking out onto the streets and pretending he was a peasant. If he enjoyed mingling with commoners so much, then Kanefer didn't mind if he just stayed out and never came back. The king had no shortage of sons and it would certainly be no loss to be rid of a troublemaker like Kha.

"Kha knows better than that," Nefermaat replied in Kha's defense.

"I don't understand why Father wants to bring Kha along," Iynefer remarked, his already-narrow eyes narrowing further into scornful slits. "Knowing him, he'll probably mess something up and make a fool of himself."

"According to tradition, all royal princes are meant to accompany the king for the new year's rituals once they reach the age of sixteen. I don't think Kanefer and I said anything when you were allowed to join us."

Iynefer scowled, folding his arms across his chest indignantly. The two older princes frequently used a condescending tone on him because his mother had only been a lowly-ranked concubine in the king's harem and she had died giving birth to him. He didn't even know what she looked like. Nefermaat, in particular, liked to give him the pompous stink-eye whenever he said anything, as if every word that came out from his mouth was utter rubbish.

"Enough." Kanefer gestured towards the stone archway through which they could now see the king approaching with the queen and some of the younger princes following behind. He straightened his back, wearing a stern expression on his angular face.

Next to the slightly pudgy Nefermaat and the tall but lanky Iynefer, Kanefer was by far the most imposing of the three. As the oldest, he also had a gravitas that none of the younger princes could match.