That God Won't Hunt by Susan Sizemore

That God Won’t Hunt
     
    By Susan Sizemore
     
    “Rejoice, Princess Ipuit, for my son is of an age to marry, and who better than you to be chosen as one of his queens?”
    Ipuit bowed low before the chair of the Queen Mother, her forehead touching the flank of a hippopotamus that was part of a hunting scene painted on the reception room floor. “I am blessed by this honor, Queen Ankhnes-Mery-Re.”
    Ipuit did not feel quite as blessed as perhaps she should, for she had been happy far away from the royal city of Menfi. The mud brick palace crowded with people disconcerted her after years spent studying in a quiet, isolated temple. But duty and family obligation called her from her quiet retreat, and she could not feel sorry for herself, either. Being a great wife to the lord of the two lands was hardly a fate to cry herself to sleep over. She and Pepi had been friends when they were children. She had missed him when she went away, and enjoyed their occasional exchange of letters and presents. Still, it had been nearly a year since she’d heard from him, which was one of the reasons the queen mother’s summons had taken Ipuit so much by surprise.
    “Come, girl, and sit beside me,” the queen mother ordered. “For I am your great aunt as well as your husband’s mother, if you recall.”
    A servant moved swiftly to place a low stool beside the queen’s carved ebony chair, and Ipuit moved with some trepidation to take this seat of honor. Though she was a princess of the royal blood, daughter to the young pharaoh’s predecessor and half-brother, Nemtyemzaf, Ipuit did not think the mother of the present lord of the two lands bestowed such a mark of favor on her out of deep family feeling.
    When Ipuit was seated, Ankhnes-Mery-Re dismissed her attendants. When they were alone, the queen mother took Ipuit’s hand in hers and said, “You have been away from Menfi for a long time, child. Look at me, and tell me of your life in the temple of Meresger.”
    Initiated into the mysteries of a goddess who was known as The Lover of Silence, Ipuit had been trained to listen . She heard the importance her answer held in the queen mother’s sociable words. Her aunt was deeply troubled, and looking for reassurance. As a woman, or as the queen mother? Ipuit wondered. From a princess, or from a priestess? Was her concern for her son, or for the kingdom? But of course all these different parts of personality were mingled together, were they not, like the ba and ka that made up the totality of the living soul? Pepi was god and ruler, as well as the beloved child of Ankhnes-Mery-Re. And Ipuit reminded herself that she was priestess and princess, and capable of being useful as both.
    “I have learned to love justice from serving in the temple of the Lady of Heaven,” she answered Ankhnes-Mery-Re.
    “You are a great scholar, I hear,” Ankhnes-Mery-Re said, squeezing Ipuit’s hand. “A student of the great mysteries and magics.”
    The queen mother sounded eager to know about Ipuit’s knowledge of magic, but the reception room door opened before Ipuit could answer.
    The dogs entered first, a half dozen rollicking young hounds with prick ears and sleek red coats. Ipuit could not help but smile at the sight of such lively creatures, for she had always dearly loved dogs. She rose to her feet as the largest of the hounds came right up to her and began to eagerly sniff her all over. She laughed, and pushed the familiar creature’s head away, then almost forgot about the animal as a dozen men followed the dogs into Ankhnes-Mery-Re’s reception hall.
    “Oh, my dear,” the queen mother complained to the young man who entered at the head of this entourage, “must you bring those beasts with you everywhere? They raise an awful stench.”
    “These beautiful hunters are my brothers and sisters. I would not be happy unless they were always with me. Besides, they’re as washed and perfumed as I am,” the king replied airily. “Though they