Chapter 4: Mistress of Pure Water

Once breakfast had concluded, they headed out of Anput’s quarters, and she directed Merit to a large reed basket that was waiting in the temple atrium. It was even larger than the one used for the morning offerings, filled with a heap of expensive-looking bottles, paper bundles of food, and several jars of wine from Anput’s vineyard.

“Can you lift it, Merit?” Anput asked with a smile as he appraised the basket. “I can carry it if you think it’s too heavy.”

“I would never allow that, my Lady,” he said as he lifted it with a grunt.

As he carried the heavy basket behind her, hearing the clinking and sloshing of the bottles, he remarked that the temple grounds were once again deserted. Everyone who might have been laboring in view of Anput was gone.

They made their way through the courtyard and past the oasis, where Merit found a large box waiting that hadn’t been there before. He quickly realized that it was a palanquin. It took the form of a lavishly decorated, enclosed frame made of wood, the curtains that draped over it hiding the occupant from view. Connected to it were two long poles intended for the servants who would hoist it between them. Anput walked over to it and lifted one of the curtains, revealing a soft, padded throne within. She ducked inside and sat down, Merit noting that everything was suitably scaled for her stature. This wasn’t the first time he had seen such a device – they were often used to transport the statues of the Gods during ceremonies, when they were moved between temples.

“My apologies, Merit,” she said as she kept the curtain raised with one hand. “There is only room enough for one, unless you would like to ride in my lap?”

She said it as a joke, but it still made him blush, and he quickly bowed his head.

“I have no such expectations, my Lady. My place is to walk beside you.”

“Then, I shall see you on the boat.”

“The boat?” he muttered.

She closed the curtain, disappearing from sight, and only then was there movement from the shadows. From beneath the shady awnings that ringed the compound, the porters came hurrying into the sunlight. Each of them was dressed in a schenti, their heads shaved, just like Merit. These were not priests, however. They barely paid him any mind, rushing to take their places surrounding Anput’s palanquin, kneeling to grip the two poles. In unison, they heaved it into the air, a dozen men per side able to carry the Goddess’ weight between them.

They set off immediately, requiring no instruction, Merit hurrying behind them with his basket. Anput must have planned all of this in advance, probably with the high priest acting as her intermediary. She might tell him where she wanted to travel, and when, and he would ensure that it all happened smoothly. The porters were not to look upon her, nor could they interact with her in any way, so they had to already know the itinerary.

They moved at a brisk pace, carrying the palanquin out into the compound, passing by gardens and beneath arches on their way to the main gate. Unlike during Merit’s previous outing, the roads were filled with traders and workers now, the citizens moving out of the palanquin’s path to give it room. Some of them dropped to their knees in reverence as it passed, bowing before what might be a living God or a statue – they had no way of knowing.

Seeing them throw themselves to the ground in prayer made Merit reflect on what Anput had told him during their visit to the garden. Without this very literal barrier between her and her subjects, traveling anywhere in a timely manner or taking a stroll in peace would be all but impossible. Unless she wished to ignore and disregard them entirely, which seemed out of character for the Goddess, she would be stopping every few paces to console her worshipers.

Anput had mentioned a boat, and the road that they took turned towards the river, Merit seeing the dock a short distance away. It was square in shape, dug out of the riverbank, its walls lined with great slabs of stone. A narrow stretch of water led out to the river proper, allowing the dock to flood and letting the boats pass through. Several trading skiffs were unloading their cargo, bringing supplies to the temple and goods for the markets, but a larger ship was moored there. It was a wooden barque, larger than the trading ships at about forty meters long, equipped with an enclosed cabin situated towards the rear. There were rowers lined up on its deck, several to a side, their long oars dipping into the water.

Merit followed the porters down to the docks and onto the ship, boarding it via a wide gangplank. They carried the palanquin into the cabin and set it down, then quickly evacuated, the rowers beginning their task as soon as the plank had been raised. Merit set down his basket on the deck, watching as they began to row, pushing the barque away from the wall. They guided it down the narrow canal that led to the river, and away, Merit feeling the wind on his face as he watched the bank recede behind him.

The rowers remained silent, and as much as he wanted to talk to Anput, she would not be able to reply. These men were not considered pure enough to hear her voice. That was simply the way of things. Could she even see anything from within that wooden cabin and behind those curtains?

Wondering whether the Goddess might need anything, he moved inside the cabin, clearing his throat to announce himself.

“My Lady,” he began, keeping his voice low. “Can I fetch you anything? A drink, perhaps?”

“I will be fine, Merit,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

He contented himself with watching the river pass beneath him, admiring the other ships that floated by. There was always a lot of traffic on the river, no two boats exactly alike, their colorful sails and varied cargo drawing his gaze. He even managed to get a glimpse of a barge that was carrying a great stone obelisk, the monument lashed to its deck with rope.

It took a good hour before they arrived at their destination, the barque entering another dock similar to the one they had left behind. They must have traveled some miles, Merit able to use the position of the great pyramid that always loomed on the horizon to keep his sense of direction. He could see more of the massive buildings and urban sprawl that surrounded its footprint now, its scale dwarfing even the largest temples and the tallest monuments.

Once the boat was moored, a second team of porters were waiting and ready, rushing up the gangplank and carrying the palanquin to shore. He hefted the gift basket and followed behind them, a winding road taking them away from the river and up towards another temple complex. This must be the residence of the God – whoever it might be. Similar scenes played out here, with citizens moving out of the procession’s path and dropping to their knees in reverence before the palanquin.

As they entered through the grand temple gate, Merit remarked that it was similar to the one he knew, but also different in subtle ways. The layout was obviously different, but so were the architectural stylings. The paths were lined with irrigation channels, and where Anput’s temple might have flower gardens or orchards, there were instead basins filled with floating lilies, reeds, and other aquatic plants. Anput’s temple had a single sacred lake, but Merit could already see several past the buildings and monuments that occupied the compound. Even the iconography adorning the pillars and walls was themed around water, with blues and greens being the dominant pigments.

Who might this temple be dedicated to? Could it be Sobek, the crocodile-headed God of protective magic and military conquests? Could it be Hapy, the God responsible for the flooding of the great river and its bounties? Merit was nervous about meeting a second deity. Would they be friendly like Anput, or would he be expected to adhere to the strictest rituals and protocols? Either way, he felt that his training had prepared him, and he had nothing to fear while under the Goddess’ protection.

They entered a courtyard through another great gate, this one decorated with murals of reeds and boats. Just like Anput’s residence, it was enclosed by a great wall with covered walkways held up by ornate pillars, a larger temple structure ahead blocked off by another gate. At the courtyard’s center was an artificial oasis of grand proportions, even larger than the one he passed by every day. It was double – perhaps triple the size, a bounty of plant life overflowing from its bounds. There were reeds, water lilies, palm trees – dense enough that he could scarcely glimpse the shining water within.

The porters set down the palanquin and retreated as quickly as they had appeared, leaving Merit standing in the empty courtyard beside it. After a few moments, Anput emerged from beneath its curtain, reaching up to adjust her braids as she took in a breath of fresh air.

“Pleasant journey, my Lady?” Merit asked.

“There’s something to be said for being carried around in luxury, but I think you’ll better appreciate why I dislike travel now.”

“It was rather enlightening,” he admitted. “I enjoyed the boat ride, for what it’s worth.”

There came a rustling from the nearby bushes, and Merit heard the sound of water sloshing, as though something heavy was surfacing. A large shape pushed its way through the reeds, bending palm trees aside just as easily, each footstep making the ground tremble beneath his feet. In shadow, the thing was just as tall as Anput, but it appeared even wider and more heavily built. Merit felt a stab of fear, but he held his ground, watching as the shape emerged into the sunlight.

Merit beheld a giant, gray-skinned head, a mouth that looked large enough to swallow a man whole opening to reveal ivory tusks. It was a hippo, or rather, the head of a hippo. Much like Anput, there was an ornate headdress of gold and jewels upon its brow, long braids cascading down over wide shoulders. Her body – she was unmistakably female – was stout and portly, with a large bust and an equally impressive belly contained within a fine gown of patterned silk. The fabric was soaking wet, dripping water onto the flagstones.

Merit recognized this Goddess, his fear receding somewhat. This was Taweret – deity of fertility, protector of children and mothers.

“Anput!” Taweret declared in a booming, jovial voice. She spread her powerful arms, the gold rings that adorned her thick fingers glinting in the sunlight, sending another rain of water droplets falling to the ground. “How long has it been? A decade? More?”

Merit scurried out of her path as she closed the distance between the two Goddesses, trapping the slimmer Anput in an enthusiastic embrace and very nearly lifting her off the ground. Anput’s golden eyes widened, but she tolerated the enthusiastic greeting, brushing off her linens once her counterpart had relinquished her hold.

“Sorry,” Taweret chuckled. “Got you a little wet there.”

“It is nice to see you again after so long, my friend,” Anput replied.

“I’ll say,” the hippo chuckled, placing a hand on a hip that was twice as wide as her guest. Merit noted that she had the tail of a great crocodile, the scaly appendage dragging on the ground behind her. “You don’t get out much these days, Anput. Nobody does, really.”