Chapter 9
The Copper Mines ~ continued from Chapter 9 | The Boy King Comes
Quick footsteps were heard outside. The driver, dressed in black robes and wearing a hood, made ready the horses. He sat still and waited as two other men were brought in to lift David’s body.
The old nurse seemed to watch as David was placed on a soft bed of hay in the wagon. Strong hands then lifted up the nurse to sit beside the limp body as they prepared to make the three-day journey to Memphis.
For an instant the driver turned his face into the light of the morning and the fat thief, the Little Scorpion who had sold David to the trader, showed himself.
“Driver, drive on.”
One man slapped the rear of the horse as the wagon pulled away.
“Hey,” yelled the Scorpion as he picked up the reins and guided the horses toward the stony pathway that led out of the copper mines.
“He should be awake by the time we reach Memphis,” the face painter said. “Or he will never wake.”
A wicked wind now carried the boy king across the desert, down to the Red Sea and over the Nile basin where the great city of Memphis stood bare to the Egyptian sun god Ra.
“Out of the star of Jacob will come the one who will smote us down,” the Scorpion recited as he drove up and off the docks at Peru-nefer remembering what his teacher, the Moab priest, had said long ago.
He had asked to continue the journey and had succeeded in attaching himself to the face painter’s house as manservant and driver.
“He is the one.”
The driver looked forward at the narrow path that led to the outer city at Memphis.
“This dead boy king; he is the one,” he thought to himself.
The narrow horse path gave way to workshops and trade houses that spilled out in every direction from the port. The dust of the day rose high in the sky.
The wagon slowed as people surged around them on the narrow path: a group of new slaves, barefoot, chained and headed for the marketplace, were let off from the docks for the workhouses. They chanted a slow, sad song, their dark skin dry in the sun and wild eyes glaring at all that was new in the great city that united upper and lower Egypt.
The driver took out his whip as they neared the wagon and shouted, “Away!” He yelled “Away!” again and lashed out with his whip.
A caged jackal snarled as it passed and clawed at the slaves. A boy with only a small stick maneuvered a baby elephant through the crowd.
The Scorpion dismounted and came to the rear of the wagon, his whip lashing out.
“Away, away!” he shouted.
Suddenly a quiet voice silenced the fat man.
“Wait,” David said as he sat up in the wagon his hand resting on the side.
His face was pale, his eyes burning.
“Have you ever felt sorrow or pain; if you have, lay down your whip and know your master.”
The driver seemed to act in slow motion, the whip crackling in the air one moment then stopped by an unseen hand the next.
“Come here, my Little Scorpion,” David said.
The driver froze.
“I have not heard that name for many years,” he thought to himself.
David was weak and reclined onto the hay in the wagon.
The caged jackal stopped his awful crying, the baby elephant stood with its trunk in the air smelling something magical, and the sweet, sad song of the slaves continued in the background.
“Come and know your master,” David repeated.
The slaves made their way to the wagon and stood around it, protecting it from the noise of the day.
They allowed the fat driver to make his way through to David while continuing to chant their mystical songs and prayers and finally he stood in front of the boy king.
David was too weak to move, his painted face like the sun god Ra.
He put out his pale hand.
“Kiss my hand, my Little Scorpion.”
He extended his arm.
“Kiss me and know your master.”
“Who are you?” muttered the driver.
“I am the one your dead Moab priest calls Davooowd.”
His eyes grew bright and his colorful face lit up.
“Do you think I did not know you — the face of a poor beggar’s son.”
The driver stood back in fear.
“All those lonely nights studying ways to kill me while learning of your enemy,” David said.
The jackal cackled while the elephant trumpeted his joy.
“Kiss my hand and know your master,” David said again.
The driver bent low and took David’s hand. His mind went numb as the sun beat down in the marketplace. The slaves continued their lyrical chanting and moved away slowly as the market again stirred to life.
Later that night, David sat upright in a marble bath while servants poured milk and honey into the water. The face painter stood by while her maidservant mixed one part gum of frankincense, one part wax, one part morning oil (the sweet smell wafting through the chamber) and one part cypress grass.
The face painter nodded while the servant poured the potion.
“This will heal the scars.”
She came close to David. The face painter held a jar and poured the contents into her hand: a restless scorpion that waited to do her bidding. She let it play on her palm for a moment and then tipped it into the steaming waters.
“I see all and will not let demons or spirits harm thee,” she recited.
The water hissed and bubbled while the servants stood in attendance watching and waiting. Slowly the scorpion emerged from the water and went to David. Two more creatures came up from the bath of milk and honey and after crawling up David’s hands and arms they sat on his shoulders.
“I see all and will not let demons or spirits harm thee,” the face painter said again.
The servants repeated these words while the frightened, fat thief stood watching in the shadows.
“I see all and will not let demons or spirits harm thee,” repeated the fat thief.
“The Scorpion King,” said the face painter as she kneeled.
The servants kneeled as did the fat man, who was beginning to see what his role was. He must protect his king.
“The Scorpion King,” said the face painter as she once again anointed David with rose oil.
“Now, my Scorpion King,” she whispered. “No evil shall befall you but you must travel to the war town of Gibeah and be wary of your many enemies.”
A servant whispered in her ear.
“Come.” She clapped her hands twice loudly. “The Pharaoh’s daughter commands us.”
Continue reading… Chapter 10 | I Am An Outcast
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