The Name of Ra
IT WAS EARLY evening. A soft breeze ruffled the feathers of the few birds fluttering over the huge palace. The sunboat had not arrived, and was not due for a while yet. A falcon, his head crowned with the pschent, the Double Crown of Egypt, had flown on ahead and soared into the palace, past the large bull statues of his father. [Note--I now spell this word "pskhent."] As he neared the Hall, he heard two voices--those of his parents--arguing quietly. They never went into any full-blown squabbles, especially when he was around to hear. Wondering what this rare disagreement could be about, he landed, transformed into a falcon-headed person, and stayed behind a pillar to listen.
"But why do you want to do it?" the voice of his father asked. He knew from the way the question was asked that it had been asked already.
"Because I have to!" his mother replied. "I need to do it. Don't you see why? There's Amon. Then God Ra. And even though Amon is king God Ra is more powerful than he is. And do you know why?"
"It's his name. You've said so already." He sounded a little exasperated.
"That's right. It's his name. And if I knew his name, I could be up there with him--I could be the third most powerful."
"You're beginning to sound just like Set. Power, power, power."
"Shh. Horus is supposed to be back soon. He's coming earlier today, remember? And I do not sound like Set. The reason he doesn't get where he wants to is because he thinks irrationally. He think that he can become most powerful, just like that. But I know I can't do that. That's why I'm making my goal third place, and to do so I need to know Ra's real name."
Horus, standing outside the Hall, cocked his head forward, uncertain if he'd heard correctly.
"That's just it! Why do you have to be there? Isn't this good enough for you?"
"Of course it is, Osiris. Certainly it is. But I want to prove that we can do something, too."
"How do you plan to go about finding out his name? He'll never tell anybody, not even Bastet, whom we know he loves more than anything."
"That's what I don't know," Isis replied. "I'll have to think of some--" She cut herself off abruptly and Horus could hear a swish of cloth brushing against cloth, and he knew the conversation was over. He stepped back several paces and pretended to be coming to the entrance. Isis appeared in the doorway and she immediately noticed him.
"Horus! I've been waiting for you. How long have you been here?"
"Just for a moment," Horus lied. "I heard you talking and didn't want to interrupt anything."
His mother smiled. "You were always that type. Is the sunbarque coming? How long should it be before it arrives?"
"Not for some time yet. I suppose Apophis is hindering it again."
"I suppose so. Come in, we were just finishing. Did you see anything interesting today? Did any of the spirits not want to leave their bodies behind?"
Isis went to watch the sunboat, Millions of Years, as it landed and sailed away again, Ra steering it back towards his home in the east, leaving the bird-bodied kau, or spirits, for judgement. [Note--actually, those bird-bodied spirits are known as bas (singular--ba; technically correct plural--bau), but seeing as the concept of the ka and the ba and all the other aspects of a person's incorporeal being get rather confusing, I kind of combined the two ideas. Nowadays I prefer to utilize the word "ka" as a sort of abstract term when referring to somebody's impersonal soul ("He has a good ka"), or when referring to ghosts ("A tomb haunted by kas"). Also in my current writing, I don't use the Egyptian plural ("kau"); I just say "kas."] As Horus greeted them again-he was the one who led them away from their mortal bodies, and as they flew with him to Ra's sunboat they changed into human-headed birds--they turned back into themselves and looked about with awe. Some looked genuinely afraid, because they knew they were in danger. They knew that when, after they had died, God Horus came to them with his arm outstretched to take their hand, a look of benevolence in his eyes, they were favored and had led a good life, and there was a good chance that they would enter Aalu, the Land of Paradise. But when Horus came, a frown on his face and anger in his eyes, they had done wrong, and would most likely be punished for it. It was up to the Scales to decide.
Now Isis bowed slightly to Ra, who still sat in his barque, watching the kau unboard. "Greetings, God Ra." He was her grandfather actually but the deities usually used formal titles when speaking to each other. "I hope Apophis didn't give you much trouble today?"
It was obvious Ra noticed something odd in Isis's sudden interest in his affairs, but he said nothing about it. "As you can see, he's managed to batter it up a little, as always," he replied. "He struck especially hard down there." He indicated with his ankh-topped staff a large dent near the bottom. It looked as if the giant black cobra had rammed his head straight into the boat. He would attack almost every day, and sometimes it took all that Ra could take to fight off the hideous dark serpent.
Isis knew well how much Ra hated the menacing Apophis, and she smiled and bowed again. A plan was already taking shape in her head. She suspected that Horus had overheard more than he let on, but her son said nothing to Ra, nothing at all that might arouse Ra's suspicions that something was up. Horus simply smiled and frowned at the appropriate kau, and once darted a look at her so fast that she didn't even notice. Somehow he knew that he would soon be involved in something much greater than himself.
Early the next afternoon, Isis sought out the wolf, Khenti Amenti, and handed him a small bottle.
"What would you like me to do with this?" Khenti asked, knowing for a fact that gods and goddesses didn't just go around giving gifts to each other.
"Early in the morning, before God Ra leaves in his sunboat to cross the sky, pour this in his drink," Isis instructed him.
"What is it? Poison?" Khenti inquired. "Oh, it wouldn't be poison, would it?"
"Take a drink of it yourself!" Isis said. "It won't harm you though I don't think you would like it, either."
"Alright [sic]," Khenti said. "I'll do it. But what good will it do, especially for you?"
"Never you mind that. Now go someplace where you won't be found and remember to do exactly as I said."
Khenti agreed again and went off immediately to the sun god's eastern palace. Everyone knew that early in the morning Ra would board his sunboat, Millions of Years, and sail it across the blue dome of his daughter the sky to disappear under the western horizon along with Horus, guiding the kau along. The kau would board while Horus flew high above, and all would be quiet, for great Apophis, the giant black guardian of the nether river, lurked deep below, ready to crush the boat with his wide black tail. Sometimes the monstrous cobra slept on in his murky abode, or decided to let the boat go on peacefully without attacking it. But such times were rare, and Apophis had a temper as fiery as his glittering red eyes. Ra always fought him off, often after his boat had been severely smashed and needed repairs. After stopping at Osiris's Hall of Judgement, he would continue eastward. The way back was much shorter, and Ra would arrive home long before dawn--Apophis was the only Underworld monster who gave him much trouble, though the way would be considerably shorter still without him--and retire to his bedchambers until it was time to sail again. He had a very busy schedule, and when he left his boat he had his brother Khepri steer it, or some other god both willing and able to keep the Underworld demons at bay. By the time Khenti Amenti reached the sunpalace it would be well after dark, since he couldn't fly, and Ra would be gone or asleep; he would simply have to wait. He walked almost all evening, and an hour or so after the half-moon rose he stopped to rest for several minutes, exhausted.
His eyelids had just started to drop when--thankfully--something gently pulled on one, then lightly brushed against the fur on his back and was gone. He awoke from his stupor with a start and glanced about. There was no one. He carefully stood, still looking.
"Who's there?" he asked. He wasn't frightened; just curious. He also wanted to thank this person for waking him when he could have fallen asleep and forgotten about Isis's request.
"I'm here; it's me," said a slightly familiar voice, and Khenti saw a pale shaft of light dart about. Once it shone right in his eyes. Then it split into many little shards of bluish light which swirled around, mixing and breaking apart, eventually taking the form of a bull with wide horns, as pale as the moonlight.
"Oh Ptah, it's you," Khenti said, a bit relieved, but not for the usual reason. "You woke me up."
"I'm sorry. I just wanted to know why you were way out in the middle of nowhere, asleep with a bottle in your mouth."
"I'm not mad. Thank you for waking me. I have to visit Ra's palace and--er--give him something." What a white lie, he thought. Still, he was convincing. "But since you're here, perhaps you could, oh, help me out a little?"
The moonbull lowered his massive head slightly. "You're tired and you want I should fly you there?"
"My! That would be a help," Khenti said.
Ptah spread his large wings. "Climb on," he said.
So Khenti's trip was shortened, and when he came at last to Ra's palace he found it surrounded by darkness but light within. The insides were always kept amazingly light, except for maybe the bedchambers. Even a god has to get his sleep, Khenti thought. He hid behind a large sphinx statue and dozed off. A while later a distant banging sound awakened him again--the sounds of the boat being readied up for its trip. He took the small amber bottle in his jaws again and entered. He came to the dining hall and sought out one of the sunhawks. They may have had excellent sight, Khenti knew, but most of them were about as smart as a reed wall. He asked the sunhawk about Ra's drinking cup.
"Would you know where God Ra places his drinking chalice?" he asked, his paws up against a pillar, the golden hawk perched above. They usually had the run of the palace, flying almost everywhere they could, gathering gossip from the lower creatures which dwelled nearby and transferring that to anyone who wished to know it.
"It's over there, on the table," the sunhawk replied, pointing a wing. As if Khenti needed directions to the giant table right behind him, which absolutely could not be missed, even if he were blind. "He already has his drink. He should be coming in soon."
"I can't quite reach it without getting messy pawprints all over that beautiful table," the wolf said. "Do you suppose you could pour this in it for me?"
"What is it?" the hawk asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice.
"Why, it's a secret formula! It makes your drink taste very, very good. Ask Isis. She gave it to me. And I, out of the kindness of my heart, have decided to let God Ra have some."
"Well, if she gave it to you--" here the hawk was being quite rude; the proper address would be "Goddess Isis," but Khenti decided not to bother with it "--I suppose it wouldn't hurt to give God Ra some." Here she was polite, knowing that when she was in his palace she had to follow his rules, and courtesy to the host was one of them. So was courtesy to others. Apparently she had broken that one.
The little hawk flew down, collected the bottle from Khenti, and alighted on Ra's cup. She dexterously removed the cap and poured several drops in, then recapped it and returned it to Khenti.
"I hope it works," she said. "God Ra would be most pleased if his drink tasted better in the morning. Most, most pleased indeed."
"Don't worry, I can guarantee it'll work." Noting more suspicion in the hawk's eyes, he pretended to remove the cap and take a little drink. I don't think you would like it, Isis had said, so he wasn't going to take the chance. "Mm-mm!" he said. "Mmmmm!" And he dropped to the floor and rolled around. The suspicion was replaced by a wide-eyed look of surprise.
"Wow," the sunhawk said. "If it really tastes that good, God Ra will be very pleased!" She cocked her head to the side. "Wait, I think I hear him coming now. Would you like me to tell him of what you've done?"
Khenti Amenti hastily scrambled to his feet. "No no, no thanks. Let it be a surprise! To cheer up Ra's morning." The hawk once more looked skeptical. He put the sealed bottle to his mouth and then left, shouting mm's as he went.
Isis, not too far away from the entrance, saw the wolf exit, the bottle still half full in his mouth. He went over to a small shrub, dug a hole, and dropped the bottle in, then buried it. With a final little satisfied pawing of the dirt, he continued on his way home.
The goddess then quickly and silently made her way to the back of the palace, where Millions of Years would be waiting to lift off. Now it was her turn to crouch in hiding and wait for the sun god as well.
Not long after Ra came out and headed for his boat. She knew he had drunk from his cup--one of the hawks said he did every morning--and that, from the half-empty bottle, Khenti had fulfilled his promise. Soon the potion would take effect.
Ra suddenly stopped right in his tracks. He blinked once, then twice, as if dazed, and shook his head from side to side. when that didn't work, he winced and spat, the awful aftertaste getting to him. Then, after shaking his head once more to make certain the bitter taste was gone, he boarded the golden boat and it slowly started to turn. As soon as she was certain no one would notice her, Isis rushed out to where Ra had been walking several moments earlier. She put her hand to the ground and collected some of the moist soil, then began kneading it together with her fingers.
"From the mouth of God Ra himself," she said, the earth forming quickly into a long, serpentine shape. "That's where this powerful magic will come from, and that's how I'll find out the real name of God Ra, the most powerful magic of all!"
All day long Isis patiently waited for the sunbarque to come to the Underworld. After Judgement, where she had to preside, she hurried away to Ra's palace again, Osiris shaking his head as she left.
She reached there before the sun god, not having to battle any of the Duat's hideous monsters as he did. In the palace she released the small snake she had created, then flew away again.
Finally, after fighting many demons and a particularly hard duel with Apophis, Ra steered his boat back into port and unboarded. The moon had not risen yet, and the god Thoth was harnessing his twenty snow-white gazelles, with their giant silver horns, to his moonchariot not too far away. Hathor, Ra's daughter, was assisting him. Ra entered his palace and headed down a long hall. The little snake lay coiled next to his path. As the sun god walked by, it struck him in the foot.
No one could imagine the fiery agony that bite caused. And neither could anyone imagine the shriek Ra let out when he felt that pain!
Thoth heard the scream from deep inside the palace and spun about, startled, trying to calm his bolting gazelles. Hathor also turned to look. Of course there was nothing to see, but echoes still split the air around them. Thoth found his feet, rooted to the ground, and was the first to react, breaking into a swift run towards the glowing palace, Hathor following close behind.
They found Ra on the floor, shaking terribly. Hathor dropped down beside him and took his head in her arms, crying, "Father!" Thoth knelt at his feet when he saw several drops of blood on the glassy floor, then shook his head. He went over to Hathor, pulled up one of Ra's eyelids, and shook his head again.
"What is it?" Hathor nearly screamed herself, Thoth's silence driving her mad.
"A snakebite," he replied.
"Can't you do anything? You're the one who could!"
Thoth shook his head a third time. "Not this time. The snake that did this was magical. I can't do anything. Come, let's get him to his bed before he gets worse. Maybe he'll be able to tell us more. But as for me, I have to leave soon. Keep a close eye on him."
By that afternoon all of the mortal Egyptians were in utter panic. Not one ray of sunlight had glimmered over the darkened horizon. Many were certain it was the end of the world. Most stayed behind locked doors. The priests sought help at the divine oracles, and one certain priest named Kha had the opportunity of traveling to question the most accurate oracle of all, the Oracle of Thoth, located in what the Greeks would later call Hermopolis--Thoth's city. [Note--in later writings, this city is called by its proper name--Khemennu--"City of the Eight."] Thoth was the god of wisdom and learning, the arts, sciences, magic, and medicine, and as Kha moved further into the city on donkeyback he saw, in the torchlight, statues of the moon god--sometimes with the head of the ibis, others with the head of a baboon, and still others as just an ibis or a baboon with a dog's head. He would have been awed had not he been so frightened. Surely Apophis had dealt Ra one last blow! For it was now afternoon and no sun had risen. The moon had, though, so the mortals knew Thoth had not abandoned them yet, and it continued on its lonely trek across the darkened heavens, waning rapidly.
Of course there was only one question on Kha's mind--the same question everyone else hadn't dared ask yet. After saying the correct prayers to the moon god and addressing him properly, Kha bowed before a silver bowl filled with simmering liquid. He waved a small wand of interwoven lotus and papyrus stalk, formed a figure eight in the air above the steaming bowl. He continued doing this until the liquid began to glow brightly, and a voice--some said it was of the moon god himself--said, "Speak, and thou shalt be heard. Ask, and thou shalt be answered. Look deeply, and thou shalt see what thou hast been meant to see." [Note--I remember I had LOTS of trouble trying to figure out the proper way to use archaic language ("thee," "thy," "thou," "thine," etc.). So if you see errors...that's why!]
Kha knew that aside from being the most accurate, the Oracle of Thoth was often the most mysterious, speaking in rhymes or riddles or alluding to places and things long since forgotten. He hoped its message would not be too difficult to understand. Bowing a bit closer, he said, "We, the people of the land, have waited all day for the sun, and still no light has come. We thought the gods had abandoned us; but no the river still flows, the stars still shine, and the moon still rises. Our hearts are heavy and our minds are confused. Please answer us, Great Thoth, Lord of the Eight, what has happened to the sun?"
The Oracle replied easily and Kha was relieved. "Do not vex thine heart, White One." Kha glanced at his white robes. "A terrible thing indeed hath happened. The Great Lord of the Sun, He of the Many Names, hath been turned upon by one of his children. He now lieth ill in torment and cannot be cured by any yet. The great boat of the sun sitteth still in its port, unsteered by any hand."
"Will the sun ever shine again?" Kha asked.
"Put thy fears to rest. The sun shall rise at the coming of the next day, the ship steered by He of the Golden Lance, until the Great Lord of the Sun is healed. Thy land shall again see the light of daytime when the boat saileth again."
Kha was now extremely relieved, but the Oracle offered one last ominous message. He was just rising when it said, "In thy joy do not forgetest thy duties, White One. Stay to thy pious ways and repent not in the face of evil, but for all that is good. [Note--I believe I misused "repent" here; I meant something more along the lines of, "Don't give up in the face of evil..."] A great, terrible age is descending upon thy land. Believe and have others believe thee, for only then canst thou be saved."
Before the priest could ask more, the glow disappeared and darkness again enveloped the temple, except for the glowing embers and the dim torchlight from far away outside.
As Kha exited, he made as much sense as he could of the Oracle's answers. Ra had somehow been hurt; he knew that God Horus would take over the boat tomorrow. One of Ra's children had not really risen against him; the Oracle meant something lower than a deity. But what did it mean by "a great, terrible age"? He knew that some horrible catastrophe was coming, and coming soon. The gods would certainly be angered. What would he do?
Soon Thoth and Hathor had Ra in his bedchambers and there, after barely being able to confirm Thoth's findings, he fell into a fitful sleep. Millions of Years stayed moored on the ground, its great sail lowered, its oars still. Not long after Thoth left--of course he was concerned about Ra, but he had a job to do also, and perhaps when he showed the moon the mortals would gain hope. Hathor, in the meantime, called her sister Bastet the cat, and Bastet sat at Ra's bedside, sometimes quietly talking (she seemed quite unfazed), while Hathor paced about, often going to look outside for no reason, then coming back. For them it was a hard blow, but there were many more blows yet to come.
Later in the afternoon, while Shu the wind god rustled the grass and leaves of the trees to assure everyone that he, and so probably others, was there Horus received a message from a golden sunvulture--which was considerably more intelligent than a sunhawk--to go to Amon's palace in the clouds immediately. Horus did not refuse. Amon was the king of the gods and while he did not interfere much his orders were not meant to be refused. [Note--in my current writing, Amon still exists, but has assumed more of an abstract role...sort of like the faceless God who watches over all His different aspects. Sort of like Gitchi Manitou in my current Manitou Island writings.] He changed into a falcon and flew to the gigantic white palace, rivaled only by Ra's, its huge gates guarded by stone sphinxes with the heads of rams. Further in were ram-headed vultures, and the falcon was dwarfed by them. He reached a hall and flew on until he found the throne room, actually more like another hall, and Amon. His wife Mut was not there and her throne was empty. Horus turned back to his natural form and knelt on one knee, his arm across his chest. Amon nodded at him and he struck a more relaxed position, though still not standing, and looked up at the god almost inquisitively.
"As I'm certain you already know, Horus, Ra is now too ill to steer his sunboat," Amon began. "Do you know what happened?"
Horus shrugged slightly. "There's word that he was bitten by a magic snake, Majesty."
Amon nodded again, but this time in agreement. "A magic snake. Which means some god--or goddess--probably created it. Would you know who could have done this?"
Horus shook his head though he already was beginning to suspect someone, and this surprised him.
"Neither does anyone else," Amon said. "But that's not why I called you here. Now that Ra is sick, his boat stays in its harbor and the people below panic. Somebody needs to sail the boat, Horus. Could it be you?"
Horus lowered his eyes for a moment or two, thinking. Then he spoke up. "I could steer the boat, but there's so much to be done. Who would conduct the kau on their trip? Would anyone still die?"
"Anubis will go on his rounds as usual. I've spoken with Sokar, and he says he could take over for a while if you agree."
Again Horus was silent. Finally he answered. "I will steer the sunboat until Ra gets well."
Amon smiled slightly at him. "I thank you for taking on this job. For it is a very difficult one, and I hope you can handle it."
Hathor was shocked when Horus returned very late the next night. When he stepped from the boat he was shaking, bruised and wet and had the look of someone who'd faced a most terrible monster, and indeed he had. Apophis, after sulking a little in his dank river, then quickly and shortly assailing the boat, had sensed an inexperienced new foe when his blows were not met properly, and had then attacked with such force that Horus had nearly been crushed by the black giant. Millions of Years was in worse shape than ever, and needed its whole sail replaced. Both of the oars were broken like twigs and the sides were scored with deep gashes. Hathor immediately left Ra with Bastet for the time being and helped Horus back home. Thoth gave him something to stop his pounding headache and make him sleep better, but he was awakened frequently by frightening nightmares, each time having to be coaxed back to sleep by his wife. Between him and her father, Hathor herself was suffering miserably.
It was several nights later that both Bastet and Hathor went home to sleep, knowing that Ra should be alright [sic] alone. After they were both gone, a winged figure entered and landed. Isis had been in Ra's palace only once or twice before, so it took a bit of wandering before she found Ra's bedchambers. They were large and echoing, and unlike the rest of the palace dimmed considerably. Ra was asleep but his breathing was shallow. Isis knelt by his bedside and turned up the lamp which hovered nearby eternally burning. Ra's eyes flew open, then nearly closed again because of the brightness. He squinted at her for several moments, trying to figure out who she was, then asked in a hoarse, raspy whisper, "Isis?"
"It is me, God Ra," Isis answered. She produced a cool damp cloth and placed it on his fevered forehead.
"Why...why are you here?"
"I've come to tell you something." She turned down the light slightly, seeing that it hurt his eyes. "About your illness." Now she removed the cloth and placed her hand there.
Ra's eyes closed for a moment and his breathing slowed, then he looked up at his granddaughter and said, "What is it you wish to tell me?"
"I know about the snake," Isis replied. "I know you were bitten by one, and it was indeed a magical snake, which means its venom's effect cannot be removed without a counterspell. That's why I've come. I can remove the venom and thus cure you completely, but only on one condition."
Ra closed his eyes again, his head aching. "What would that be?"
Isis paused for a moment, then said, "Your must tell me something."
"What?"
"Your secret name."
Again Ra's eyes opened but this time they showed disbelief. Then that disbelief was replaced by fury. He struggled to sit up, which was very difficult in his condition. Isis backed away slightly, knowing he wouldn't lay a hand on her but not wanting to get accidentally hit. He managed to prop himself up on one arm and glared at her only glare cannot describe the look he had.
"How dare you ask me that!" he exclaimed furiously.
"If you tell me, I cure you," Isis said simply. She wasn't afraid of him, because now he was weak and she knew it.
"I'll never tell you that!" he shot back, further enraged by her calmness, and turned over as if to give her the cold shoulder. Isis stood and silently went back to the doorway. When she reached it, she turned and held up her hand, and the lamp dimmed back to normal. Then she exited out into the bright hall. Without her Ra was powerless. He would tell her. She was certain of that.
As things grew worse for Ra, so did they become more unbearable for poor Horus. Apophis clearly thought of this as a fun new game, "Drown-the-Helmsman," and crashed into, twisted about slammed against the boat as fiercely as ever. Horus was weaker every time he unboarded and couldn't sleep well because of those terrible nightmares. One night Hathor awoke to find him sitting in the corner, staring blankly ahead; when she put her hand on his shoulder he said, "I don't think I can do it anymore," so emotionlessly that her eyes filled with tears. That very night she left him and, turning herself into a falcon, flew through the thin fog until she came to another palace. This one was much different from her father's sunny palace, or Amon's with its tall, sparkling white pillars and sphinxes. Instead it was dark almost to the point of being unlit, ghostly tendrils of mist wrapping about its black pillars. Two sphinx-like statues, black as onyx, guarded its gates, but Hathor knew something else lurked inside. As she neared the entrance she could hear her growls. Then she padded forward into view, her long claws clicking, her eyes blazing--the Sag. [Note--in later writings--of which there aren't many--this name has been changed to "Sak."] Her lithe leonine body shimmered in the faint torchlight; her head was that of a hawk, and her long tail ended in a lotus flower. A deep guttural rumble sounded in her throat and Hathor stopped. There was a slight rustle ahead, and a jet black hawk landed.
"Who are you and what do you want?" he asked.
"Hathor. I wish to see Sokar," Hathor replied.
The hawk didn't reply but instead took off inside. Hathor went after him, leaving the Sag behind growling to herself. As she walked along the few torches which dimly lit the otherwise blackened halls played her shadow about on the floor. She finally stopped and peered ahead, wondering where the hawk could have gone.
"Goddess Hathor, I presume?"
Hathor jumped and spun around. A dim figure was standing in the shadows staring at her, eyes burning like coals, a faintly chilling smile on its hooked beak. Sokar definitely had a strange sense of humor. Hathor, recovering from her initial fright, took one step forward but then stopped again, because Sokar moved forward as well, into the ring of light.
"And what brings you here?" he asked, cocking his head, with half-closed lids, to the side, still with that strange grin.
"I need a favor," Hathor said.
"Favor?" Sokar sounded slightly amused. "I should think that I would be the last person to whom you would come for favors." [Note--this ties in with an unwritten Kemet story of mine, regarding a really bad time Hathor put Sokar through. Someday I hope to eventually write the dumb thing.]
"It's not for me. It's for Horus. He's sick and needs a long rest. You have to help him. You have to take over the ship."
Sokar turned serious now, but displayed a faint air of indifference as he always did. "I've already helped him. I took over his job and I'm still busy. What makes you think I have time to steer the boat when there are people dying below?"
"Please Sokar, you must do this! Or else--"
"Or else what? Your husband will lose a little bit of sleep at night?"
"He can't sleep at all," Hathor said. She was trying very hard to keep her composure but Sokar could see right through it. "Even when Apophis stops attacking the boat he continues his assault in Horus's mind. He can't lose him and it's getting worse. You have to help him. You know what it's like to feel weak and almost powerless." [Note--again, tying in with the unwritten story.]
Sokar said nothing for a moment and Hathor knew she'd hit the right spot. He finally sighed and said, "I'll take over the boat for one day and one day only. That's all that I can do. After that you'll have to think of something else."
Hathor gratefully thanked the god and departed. When she got home, she found Horus asleep in the corner, and decided not to wake him. He needed as much rest as he could get.
Isis knew that her troublemaking was creating a domino effect amongst the others, including her son, but still didn't give in. Neither did Ra. She visited him again, then again several nights later, and again several nights after that. Always she said the same thing, knowing how much it pained him to refuse her help. That caused the agony to become all the greater.
"If you will tell me your real name, I will cure you," she said, the night Sokar sailed the boat.
"How many times do I have to tell you no, no, no!" Ra hissed, turning away. He didn't want her to see how much it hurt him.
So after that she left, assuring him that she'd be back again in case--or more like when--he changed his mind. She knew he would. It would just take some time.
In the evening Hathor came into Judgement Hall, seeking Sokar who had unboarded for a moment. The crocodile-headed guard, Sobek, moved aside and let her past, and she made her way to him. A few minutes later Sokar walked by the other way with an angry look, Hathor following behind. Again Sobek moved.
"I'm not sailing again!" Sokar fumed, heading back to the boat to finish the trip.
"Horus is sick and you don't even care!" Hathor shouted back.
"Horus is sick! Horus is sick! I'm getting sick of hearing about that damn boat! I have things to do also and you think I'm not upset? Everything's messed up and it's all that snake's fault, not mine! And I don't mean Apophis!"
"Then what are you going to do? Just let this happen? Have somebody who can barely stand much less fight off a giant cobra sail the boat?"
Sokar turned about to face her. "Listen, you--"
"I'll sail the boat." Sobek leaned his spear against the wall and looked at them, almost registering no feelings.
"You?" Hathor asked, a little startled that he'd spoken but more shocked by his statement.
"Believe me when I say he could do it," Sokar said. "You don't agree with me on anything else. Now I have to go, and Sobek can take over tomorrow. So Horus can get better." He said this with a bit of a sneer and left.
Hathor turned back to Sobek. "Sobek, if there's any way I can repay you--"
Sobek shook his head. "Don't. Just let Horus rest and tell me when he's well. I'll take care of the boat until then."
To say that Apophis got a hard fight the next day would be like saying Horus was a bit sleepy. Sobek, being part reptile himself, caught on to Apophis's tricks quickly and soon enough the giant snake slithered back to his murky home, beaten. He didn't rear his hideous head or even swish his tail out of the water for several days after that.
Again Isis went to Ra, following several unsuccessful tries, and offered to help.
"As I've told you before, you have no need to put yourself through this. One word and the pain is all gone. One word and you're cured. One word from you and you'll be standing again, sailing your ship across the sky. Just tell me your name."
Ra could barely turn his head so he didn't have to look at her. "I can't tell you that," he insisted weakly.
"Yes, you can," Isis persisted.
He shook his head. "No. I can't. Without my name I'm lost."
Isis left.
When about a week had passed, Horus felt rested enough to return to the barque. But Sobek went along with him for several days to make certain he was really better. Hathor turned her attention back to her father, poor suffering Ra, who would not--could not--eat, nor sleep very well because of his fever. He shook so badly now he could barely keep still enough to even rest.
It was a few days later that Hathor came to Isis, wringing her hands, and stood waiting. When Isis looked up, she said, "It's God Ra. He keeps asking for you. I don't know if it's delirium, but he seems to want you there."
Isis gently patted Hathor's arm. "I'll go see him. You stay here and wait for Horus. See if he's still doing alright [sic]. Ra will be fine."
Not long after Isis quietly entered Ra's chambers. She went to his bedside and very lightly touched his arm.
Ra's eyes opened as wide as he could force them, which was only halfway. This time they held no disbelief, no fury. Only defeat. Exhausted, agonized defeat.
"I-sis?" he whispered.
Isis nodded. "It is me."
Ra closed his eyes and when he opened them again Isis saw they were full of tears. "I can't tolerate it anymore, Isis. I can't. Now I have only one thing. Soon I'll have nothing." He closed his eyes again and the tears streamed down his face. Isis reached to wipe them away. "I'll tell you my name. Just make the pain go away." He would have shouted it, screamed if he were able, but could only whimper softly like a wounded animal. "Just make it go away."
"I will, God Ra," Isis replied. "Tell me your name and it will all be gone."
Ra whispered, "Come closer," and she did. He cupped his shaking hands to her ear and told her, then sank back, trembling.
Isis stood and held her hand over the sun god's head. She chanted some strange-sounding words, then said, "By the name of God Ra, evil illness, begone!" and waved her hand. She then bent back to him and said, "The spell has been lifted. You will still feel weak for about a fortnight but the pain is gone. Rest now and do not worry about the sunboat. Everything will be alright [sic]. Just rest." She placed her hand on his forehead, as she had many days before when she first visited, and within moments Ra was fast asleep. She stood again, dimmed the lit lamp, and left once more. Her job was done.
"Ra slept on for most of the fortnight, awakening every so often for several minutes, seeing if anyone was present, and assuring them with a touch of his hand or a word or two that he wasn't in pain, was only resting. Of course he never told of what had transpired between Isis and himself, and it had been silently understood between them that neither would tell what had happened. Nor would Isis use his name against him. He had only his trust of her to go on, but never once did she threaten to break her promise.
"Soon he was feeling better and, though a bit shaky, returned to his boat. Horus, more than a little happy to be relieved of this burden, went back to his palace. But ever after God Ra wasn't as powerful as he used to be, because he'd told Isis his name, upon which his magic was founded. He didn't show how he felt, but there is always someone who can see right through you and into your heart, where your deepest, darkest fears are hidden, no matter how hard you pretend. And, as you can imagine, that caused plenty of problems for those naive creatures called mortals." Khenti Amenti finished his story and rested his head on his forepaws.
"Who was it that knew how Ra felt, Khenti?" the baboon boy, Hapi, asked.
"That would be your great-uncle, Set," Khenti replied, stretching his hindlegs. He acted more like a big friendly dog than a wolf god. "He's an expert at seeing through people."
"So what did he do?" the jackal boy, Duamutef, asked.
"He hinted about it to the mortals, that's what," Khenti said. He yawned and closed his eyes. "And some of them--most, in fact--listened to him, and decided to do something about it."
"Really?" Duamutef said.
Khenti nodded, yawning again. "But that's another story altogether."
"Tell us!" Hapi pleaded, and the others joined in.
The wolf sighed and raised his head. "Alright [sic], alright [sic], I was meaning to tell you! Can't sleep anyway. Is everybody comfortable? Okay. [Note--I can't believe such a modern word slipped into this writing, even back then! Ew!] I'll tell you another one. This happened, of course, not too long after Ra returned to the sunboat..."
No comments:
Post a Comment