Khu: A Tale of Ancient Egypt Read Online Free Page A

with the women chanting every known prayer and incantation, and burning incense and scattering flowers over the floor, Henhenet had finally died.
    A terrible sadness befell the palace . All joyful anticipation for the birth of a new baby was replaced by a bitter mourning for the loss of both mother and child. Funeral preparations for the deceased were undertaken immediately, and the king ceased shaving his head and face in order to grow hair as an outward display of his grief during the embalming period until the funeral ceremony would be held.
    Tem was sad for the loss of Henhenet and her unborn child. The woman had been like a younger sister to her. Mentuhotep was also distraught. Although he had children by a number of lesser wives, the loss was heartbreaking, for the heart’s capacity to love is infinite. Death was a constant risk when it came to new life, especially in a time when the mortality rate for infants and mothers in childbirth was high. Their deaths were a grim reminder of the transience of this world, and the importance of readying for the Afterlife.
     
    The finding of Khu could not have come at a better time, thought Tem, as she bent down to gently kiss the sleeping boy on the forehead. For a few seconds she watched his chest rise and fall with the quiet rhythm of his breathing. Then she got up from his bedside and walked over to the room’s entryway, pausing to turn and glance at Khu once more before leaving.
    The children of the palace were deeply loved and cherished , she acknowledged to herself. How could Mentuhotep not accept Khu as his own son? Particularly after the painful loss of Henhenet and her child. Khu would be a balm on the king’s wounded heart. Yes, she nodded to herself, one more child would be a blessing.
    Especially this child.

     
     
    TWO
     
     
    Morning dawned bright over the funeral procession snaking its way across the shimmering Nile on a barge. Unlike some parts of the great far-reaching river whose murky waters were a dirty brown, the water here shone blue as the vast blue sea lying north of the Nile Delta, and into which the great river disgorged its branched veins. It mirrored the brilliant sky above, a placid reflection of the heavens. Its smooth glassy surface belied a current which made the barge seem to glide effortlessly across.
    From stem to stern , the graceful boat stretched long and slender with chiseled beast heads mounted on the ends which rose high above the deck, facing inwards to the vessel’s occupants. A black stone representation of Anubis carved entirely of jet, sat on top of the canopy shading the coffins of the deceased. The jackal-headed god was depicted in full animal form. His lithe reclining body supported a long-snouted head with perked ears alert to any possible danger as he protected the spirits of the dead, while leading them safely to the Afterlife.
    Once crossing to the river’s west bank, the procession continued past the verdant floodplains, and on to the dry sandy desert waiting beyond, where an ox-drawn sledge hauled the mummified remains of Henhenet and her infant child. The baby had been a girl. More than seventy days had passed since their deaths, during which the priests had washed, anointed and preserved their individual bodies with mixtures of spices, salts and resins, before wrapping them in the finest linen.
    The great ox lumbered steadily forward, harnessed to the heavy cargo it pulled under a warming sun. Loud wailing from professional mourners mingled with the noble family’s cries as they followed the shaven-headed priests leading the group in somber dignity—their leopard-skin cloaks draped over a single shoulder, and their long staffs in hand as they chanted solemn ritual intonations and wafted sweet incense through the air. The perfumed wisps of smoke mingled with the cloud of dust rising in the wake of the mourners, so that the long procession was enveloped in an aromatic haze.
    Tem t ook her place beside Mentuhotep with