Men was a trader of cheap goods from Thebes who frequently visited Sekhetwi. He knew that his goods would trade well at our village and did not mind the long travel. He was always welcome at our homes. For the simple farmers and fisherman Theban goods were regarded with high respect; after all they were blessed by the gods themselves. It was told that the great lord Amun resided in a great temple at Thebes. Men had clearly taken advantage of the Sekhetwian honour to make his small fortunes. It was not wrongful, we all knew of these old tactics for it was a common method used among the Theban traders. Suddenly, Men had lost his most prosperous trade center. His regulars were scattered among the muddy ashes and ruins like gutted animals, hacked open from throat to belly. Such merciless slaughter of men, women and children for not paying tribute to the Hyksos ruler Aauserra Apepi. Yet the barbarian hoard were unaware that one tiny corner of the village was untouched by their carnage. Men had found the soul survivor of the ravaged Sekhetwi - a naked little boy drenched in muddy soot crying hopelessly for his departed parents. The blood-dyed soil of my village etched deeply into his dread-filled eyes. He did not have the heart to leave me for the vultures. Instead he took me into his arms and fostered me like a son.
I was taken to Thebes where we only stayed temporarily to gather goods for his trade expeditions. We had no home, only the welcoming shade of a palm tree offered us shelter under its fronds. These continuous ventures for survival excluded Men from the time needed to establish a proper family. Other than the mortal pleasures in bed he could offer little else to a good woman. Trading was so much part of his life that it was in his blood. Eventually I too would be taught the cheap art of trading and bartering. Together we traveled great distances in search of wealth and glory. But our dreams were soon crushed. Aauserra Apepi had imposed a new tax upon us. Anyone who endeavored on a journey to lower Kemet had to pay tribute to the Hyksos king and his men. Traders especially had to pay handsomely. We were at a loss and there were little opportunities left for us in Thebes. Soon we heard that Queen Ahhotep was recruiting a grand army. Her son Ahmose was nearly ready to take throne. Words of an uprising spread quickly across Kemet like a plague. It was said that the new king, blessed by the lord Amun, would embark on a victorious campaign to the north and crush the Asiatic ‘Shepherd Kings’. The eldest king’s brother Kamose, had previously attempted to free Kemet from the Hyksos rule after the death of his father, king Seqenenra Taa. Kamose’s campaign failed and the eldest son of king Taa fell.
“I have seen enough death,” Men said to me. Shortly after his statement we journeyed north. He had finally lost faith in the Theban rulers.
When we arrived into Hyksos domain it was in Tjaru where we found honest work at Shemrata's plantation field.
Many seasons had passed since I placed my feet on Theban grounds. Finally our gods have returned to restore Maat, the balance back to the two lands of Kemet. Even the stars seemed much brighter than ever as if they too were jubilant. I lay watching them, my head resting upon my hand. It was hard to believe that in the next day we would arrive in Thebes. Suddenly I felt a swelling sensation in the pit of my stomach. The word Thebes brought a name to my heart: Tawri. Her memory had haunted me ever since we left the city of the gods. It was her farewell kiss I could not forget. She was so beautiful then … I wondered what she looked like after so many absent seasons. We were the best of friends when we were children. Tawri, the only girl in my circle of friends was also the only noble child who dared play with the underclass. My other friends, Peti and Hapu were of a long line of peasant families, but they were decent boys. Tawri always said that the noble children were dull and mean. She found refuge and understanding among the commoners. We admired her dearly.
Her parents were nobles, well respected among the royal family. The father, Ramose held a high rank in the military. He had fought beside king Ahmose in the north and in the south against the Nubians. It was in the southern campaign where a Nubian bowman released a darting arrow into Ramose’s right leg, wrenching his tendons beyond the healing abilities of any medicine man. The Kermeese Nubians had mastered a horrible method into their arrows - a series of blunt scales descended perpendicular down the edges of poorly worked copper heads. As the arrow pierced through the body it destroyed everything in its path, tearing flesh and organs, leaving the victim’s bloody interior suspending inside out. Apart from his devastating injuries, Ramose returned from Nubia with a hoard of gold and honourary rewards granted by the king himself. Ramose retired from the army as a very wealthy man. His wife Nebet was the beautiful daughter of Mery-Amun, a high priest of the Amun cult during the reign of Seqenenra-Taa. Nebet had joined the circle of the God’s Wife beside the king’s wife, Ahmose-Nefertari.
The grand villa of Ramose and Nebet was located on the boundaries of the noble township in lower Thebes. Everything was disciplined in the Ramose household. It was assumed that their beloved daughter had finally blended in with the other noble children. But that was far from the truth. She could no longer stand the sight of spoiled, wealthy brats. Instead Tawri would run long distances to meet the triad of young commoners in marshes on the outskirts of Thebes. I can still smell the stench of vegetable decay as we played among a blanket of entangled vegetation the Nile had carried up during the inundation. There we built palaces and fortresses made of palm fronds, reeds and papyrus stems. We were her loyal soldiers and she was our queen. When Ra grew high and the warm desert air swept in, we would bathe in the murky canals fed by the river Nile. Then one day Tawri and I met secretly under the cool canopy of Nile palms. The gentle, moist breeze whisked our voices as we spoke pleasantly to each other. She told me of her real name, Neferura - the beauty of Ra, an exquisite noble name given up in spite for a name unknown among the upper class. Tawri no longer wanted the pleasures of the aristocratic life. I recall her words as if spoken only yesterday: “When I am with you, I am free. So treat me as you would any other common girl.” She came closer and her lips gently whispered into my ear. “You are the one I favour.” She repeated these words gazing into my eyes as if I should remember them always. “You are the one I favour, Itef.” Then she kissed me, sprang to her feet and ran away, occasionally glancing back smiling. That day was the day I would cherish deep in my heart. We were so consumed by our feeling for one another, thus oblivious to anything else around us. Little did we know about the lurking presence, hidden behind the marshes, observing our every move. Our secret had been violated by serpent eyes. Someone, a guardian from the Ramose household had followed Tawri through the looming shadows of the Theben streets. It was the last we ever met. Since then, her delightful expression, her gentle voice remained only in my dreams.
I watched the moon rise with weary eyes. Its gleaming strength washed the desert with an eerie light, giving contour to the ragged escarpments. I felt my heart beat slow as my body prepared for rest. My drowsiness played hallucinations with my eyes. The smooth curves of the dunes seem like naked bodies lying in the desert sand. I listen to the trills and squeals of night birds in the distance.
“If I were to meet her, will she still remember me? Will I still be the one she favours?” My will was strong as an ox, even though my heart was not. I had to remember that we lived in a new world, a unified Kemet. We had fought off our enemies into distant lands. I was certain that our ancestors