Beauty of Re

by Mark Gajewski

  “They’re looting!” Nefer said in disgust. “They must think the leaders’ tents are full of gold. Our men will never move towards Megiddo until they’ve made themselves rich.”

  I studied the distant city once more, equally disgusted. I saw heads peering over the parapet atop the city walls. A single rope uncoiled down a side. A soldier seized it and began scaling the wall. Another rope dangled, then another, and then what appeared to be lengths of linen tied together. Soon the walls were alive with climbing soldiers and enemy leaders from one end to the other. I watched, frustrated, as our men claimed booty and the enemy reached safety.

  Nefer and I joined Thut an hour later in the ruins of the kings’ camp. Our soldiers were still noisily celebrating their victory. The bodies on the plain beyond were already beginning to bloat in the hot sun. The stench was nearly unbearable. The wounded were crying pitifully for water and some of our soldiers were circulating among them with leather water bags they’d filled in Qina Brook. Squads of men were dragging our fallen to one side for proper burial. Those of our wounded who could walk were being helped towards the kings’ camp, the rest were being administered to where they lay. The enemy – dead and wounded – our men ignored. Thut sat on the captured throne of Megiddo’s king, reviewing prisoners who were being herded past him, and the trophies of battle. Soldiers were piling basket after basket of hands and penises cut from the enemy dead a few feet from the throne. Scribes were tallying them. A young boy sat nearby, finely dressed, his hands tightly bound behind him. I questioned him briefly, helped him to his feet, bid him follow me, then joined Thut, along with Nefer.

  “A missed opportunity!” Thut cried in disgust as Nefer seated herself at his side.

  I told the boy to sit, then hurriedly obtained water and brought it to both Thut and Nefer.

  “Every rebel chief was here. I could have slain them all and the rebellion would have collapsed.” Thut slammed his fist on the arm of the throne so hard it cracked. “But my soldiers could not be persuaded to finish the attack while gold glittered at their feet. The kings of Kadesh and Megiddo both made it safely into the city.”

  “But the son of Kadesh’s king did not,” I told Thut, indicating the boy. “This is Naunakht. He said his father left him behind in his haste.”

  Thut laughed without mirth. “A single valuable hostage. And much treasure.” He tilted his head to where massive numbers of chariots were being parked in long rows, with more coming from every direction. “More than nine hundred, along with their horses, and over two hundred suits of armor, according to the scribes. But now I’ll have to lay siege to capture the city. Who knows how long that will take? There won’t be any Yapu–like miracle this time.” He looked at me when he said the last.

  Djehuty was already busy surrounding Megiddo with troops he’d angrily ordered away from the kings’ camp. Ahmose and Amenemhab and other commanders were sending more after him, many burdened with what they’d looted. Looking at Megiddo’s walls, it was clear to me that Thut did not have the strength to take the city by force. Today’s battle had proved that the enemy did not have the strength to drive him away. Thut was right – we were going to have to wait the enemy out.

  Djehuty joined us for dinner a few hours later. By then the area around the king’s tent where Thut had established himself had been cleared and set to order and lighted with campfires and torches. It bustled with a host of scribes and officers making reports, and servants circulating with food and drink. Nefer sat on a leather chair to Thut’s left, I sat to her left, and Naunakht sat beside me. I’d spent the afternoon and early evening questioning him about Megiddo and its defenses and the troops who had retreated inside. He was scared, but he’d answered me fully and truthfully and with dignity, as befit the son of a king. We’d discovered his mother and sisters hiding in the camp too; they sat within his sight now, around a small campfire, arms bound, watched by several menacing–looking Medjay. That had no doubt prompted Naunakht’s honesty, even though I had assured him that no harm would come to him or them.

  Djehuty settled himself wearily in a chair next to Thut.

  “Megiddo is surrounded. Our tents, and donkey carts full of supplies, are on their way from Yehem,” he reported. “I’ll have our permanent camp established by this time tomorrow. I’ve set woodsmen to felling trees on the slopes of the ridge. They’ll work through the night. In the morning we’ll begin building a palisade that will completely encircle Megiddo – it will be called ‘Thutmose is the Surrounder of the Aamu.’”

  “With a single gateway,” Thut ordered. “Let no one from the city through the palisade unless they are surrendering.”

  “It shall be so,” Djehuty said.

  And so began our long wait.

  ***

  The next eight months were uneventful. It took only a few days for Thut’s men to dig a moat around Megiddo a short distance from its walls and raise a wooden palisade behind it. Shifts of soldiers patiently watched and waited there to ensure no wretch escaped the city. Patrols roamed Retenu to the north and east to ensure no Mitanni relief forces were approaching from Naharina. Our soldiers went on raids and looted the nearby towns that had rebelled against Thut – Acco, Achsaph, Adamim, Anaharath, Geba–shemen, Mishal, Ophel, Shemesh–Edom, Shimon, Shunem, and Taanach. None of them provided any resistance – they were inhabited only by women and children and old men, for their able–bodied men were all trapped inside Megiddo. Thut went with nearly all the raiding parties, believing it important that he personally strike fear into the wretches who inhabited the local towns to create a lasting impression they’d remember once he returned home. For a week plumes of black smoke rose high into the air as we burned several of those towns to the ground, as an example. We harvested what crops were on the plain and destroyed everything we could not use. Our soldiers took turns on guard duty, then spent the rest of the time sleeping or eating or conversing around campfires. We were kept well supplied with food and drink, delivered from Kemet by boat using Yapu’s harbor, or taken from enemy storehouses. Female captives were brought overland from Yapu to serve the royals and commanders. About a week into the siege a camp populated with local women sprung up not far from ours to meet the carnal needs of our soldiers.

  While uneventful, those eight months were the best of my life. I was with Thut every day, from sunup until late at night. We did everything together. I went with him on his raids to translate. Other times he and I, sometimes accompanied by Tjanuni or Nefer or Ahmose or Amenemhab, rode about the countryside, sometimes hunting, more often observing. Always eager to learn, Thut studied the flora and fauna and geography in a wide radius around Megiddo, from the Great Green in the west to the Sea of Chinnereth in the east, from Mishal and Acco in the north, to Shechem in the south. On those particular expeditions I discovered I had a talent for drawing; I filled sheet after sheet of papyrus with images of unfamiliar plants and animals while Tjanuni recorded descriptions dictated by Thut. Occasionally Thut and I went out alone, escorted by Medjay, of course; no one thought anything of it, knowing we were lifelong friends, and we were careful, surrounded by so many thousands of soldiers, to do nothing that might hint at our love for each other. An occasional touch, a covert glance, had to suffice for that. Sometimes we raced our chariots, sometimes we swam in Qina Brook, sometimes we scaled the ridge and looked out over the besieged city and our vast camp and talked for hours. Every night we feasted along with Thut’s commanders and closest friends, serenaded by musicians, entertained by dancers, the soldiers trying to outdo each other with tales of their exploits. I was unbelievably happy. This was the life I’d craved for so long, enveloped in the warmth of the man I loved. I knew it couldn’t last and so I made the most of every minute.

  A few times Thut shared with me his frustration with Nefer. Their relationship continued to be icy; no matter what he tried she would not thaw. The events from the audience hall were still too fresh for her, the wounds too raw. She remained in camp most of the time, uninterested
in riding about the country with Thut, usually watching sullenly at mealtime while the rest of us enjoyed ourselves. Nefer still wanted to be the mother of a king, and so she’d put her dislike of Thut aside and shared his bed each night. But given her indifference and lack of enthusiasm, Thut had quickly tired of her. All that kept him from giving up trying to have a child with her was the implication that would have for the two of us. I pled with Thut to give Nefer the time she needed to forgive him, to come around, and he promised to, even though every day the rift remained between them was a day that delayed our own marriage.

  Whenever Thut was occupied with military or administrative duties, I helped the physicians care for soldiers who had taken sick or been injured or stung by scorpions or bit by snakes. The interest in healing that had taken root in me after the battle at Buhen flowered, and by the end of the siege I knew as much as any physician in the army. Not only did I master the use of herbs and medical procedures, but I learned the proper spells to write on scrolls and fastened around the necks of the sick to promote recovery. Wherever I went in camp I was treated with the respect one soldier gave another. I spent much time good–naturedly fending off the advances of many of those soldiers. Women of status were, after all, few and far between, and their interest in me was natural.

  I also translated for Thut during his interrogations of individuals who had fled Megiddo and surrendered. I spent much time with Naunakht and his family, teaching them our language, learning about their customs, teaching them about ours. I also worked with the female captives brought from Yapu to serve in our camp, teaching them enough of our tongue to get by. I drove Nefer around the countryside a couple of times a week in one of the captured royal chariots – Thut had given it to me, along with two of the finest horses I’d ever seen. We spent hours laying in the grass or climbing the ridge or swimming in the brook, talking of everything and nothing. For the first time since our trip to Punt twelve years earlier Nefer was completely free – she had no duties or obligations, there was no Hatshepsut prodding her to take the throne, no advisors, no estates to oversee, no Iset harassing her or seeking her life. Thut made no demands of her and, after Aruna Pass, there was no one whispering that she was plotting against him. That, of course, would change once the siege was over and we returned home. Nefer knew Iset would control every aspect of her life from then on – for Nefer, Kemet would be the same as a prison. So she took full advantage of the last freedom she expected to have in her life.

  Throughout the siege a constant stream of messengers and officials arrived almost daily from Kemet, sent by the northern and southern viziers, for Thut still had to rule the Two Lands. Along with his royal duties, he often met with his commanders to strategize about what to do with the enemy leaders and soldiers and lands once Megiddo fell. For that was clearly inevitable.

  Thut never publicly acknowledged either Nefer’s or my role in choosing Aruna Pass. I didn’t expect him to, for a king had to take credit for everything. And anyway, for us to point out a route took no courage. But for him to go against every one of his advisors and select it and then convince them to put their faith in him and follow him and then soundly defeat an enemy who could have easily wiped him out had been a defining moment for him as a leader. I did not doubt that here at Megiddo, in his first major battle, Thut had won the hearts and minds of his men and set himself firmly on the path to building his envisioned empire.

  Early one morning Megiddo’s gate unexpectedly swung open. More than two dozen young men and women – sons and daughters of enemy chieftains, it soon became evident – emerged, walking slowly towards our palisade on the dusty road. They were trailed by a herd of cattle and goats driven by several herdsmen, and donkeys laden with containers full of tribute. They passed sullenly through the gate in the palisade, crossed the plain between two lines of our troops who had been hastily drawn up along either side of the road, entered our camp. Their eyes were downcast, their faces defeated and fearful. The women had all thrown handfuls of dirt on their heads, as if in mourning; some were crying, their faces streaked with mud. All were barefoot. Thut received them grimly before his tent, sitting regally on his throne, the Blue Crown on his head, a wide broad collar of gold on his breast, wearing a leather corselet, with a dagger in his belt, his commanders arrayed to each side, Nefer seated beside him in all her beauty wearing the vulture crown. The wretches fell to their knees before the throne and praised Thut and begged that he give the breath of life to their nostrils. A spokesman presented him with gifts – silver, gold, lapis lazuli, malachite, grain, wine, and the livestock. On behalf of their chieftains, he surrendered Megiddo.

  A few hours later Thut entered the city, driving his golden chariot, wearing the Double Crown, flanked by foot soldiers and mounted archers. I drove Nefer in the following chariot. She wore a white dress, the vulture crown, and was richly bejeweled and painted as befit a king’s wife. Together they made a spectacular and imposing pair, and they knew it. Directly behind Nefer and I walked the tribute bearers, their arms bound with leather thongs, and after them more of our soldiers and archers. The townspeople lined the winding street that climbed the hill through the city to the royal palace, silent, emaciated, defeated, afraid. They dropped to their knees as the royals passed.

  At the palace we entered the king’s throne room and Thut ascended the dais and sat, taking up the crook and flail handed to him by an attendant. Nefer settled in a throne to his right. I stood at Thut’s left; I was to serve as his translator. Tjanuni and several military scribes moved into position at the foot of the dais to record the proceedings. When Thut was ready he signaled. His royal herald opened the door of the throne room. The King of Megiddo and the other rebel leaders were prodded up the aisle by our soldiers into the open space before Thut. Their wives and children and courtiers entered behind them and filled the rest of the hall.

  I addressed the king in his tongue. “I speak for the King of the Two Lands – Menkheperre, Thutmose, third of that name, the Son of Re, the Strong Bull Arising in Waset, Enduring of Kingship Like Re in Heaven, Powerful of Strength, Holy of Diadems.”

  “I will not negotiate with a woman,” the King of Megiddo told me dismissively. “I will use my own interpreter.” He beckoned and a man hurried to him.

  I strode to the edge of the dais, so that I towered over the king. “I am Meryetneith, Great Companion of the King, Great Companion of the King’s Wife, Translator of the King, Opener of the Gate of Yapu!” I cried angrily. “This is no negotiation. You will listen to my questions and answer them. Or my king will level your city, until no stone is left standing upon another. Not a single one!”

  Thut hid his smile with a hand after I translated the exchange for him.

  I’d completely cowed the king. “As you wish,” he said sheepishly. “It is a small thing, who translates.”

  I stepped back beside Thut and addressed the king once more. “His Majesty asks ‘where is Durusha, King of Kadesh?’ He does not see him in this hall making obeisance.”

  The face of Megiddo’s king turned red. “Durusha fled over the walls of Megiddo before your palisade was constructed.” He shrugged. “Where he may be now, I do not know.”

  Thut was furious. With an angry gesture he summoned Djehuty to his side. The two carried on a hurried conversation.

  “Durusha gathered three hundred chieftains in rebellion against me,” Thut snarled. “Now he’s loose. If he could stir so many up once, he can do it again. Especially with the backing of the Mitanni.” His gaze swept the room. “All of this was for nothing, since he escaped our trap.”

  “Should I send men to search for him?” Djehuty asked.

  Thut shook his head no. “He’s been gone for eight months. He’s no doubt hiding in a hole somewhere, or maybe he’s made it all the way to Naharina by now. No, this changes everything.” Thut straightened. “General, I will not rest until I capture Durusha and conquer his Mitanni friends – no matter how long it takes. From now on, that is the task we must devote our
selves to if we are to rule an empire. We must hold Retenu and Setjet, occupy the harbors along the coast, make this whole land a staging area for the war that we will someday fight against him.”

  “But Majesty, our army isn’t large enough to occupy so vast a territory. It’s designed to be a hammer, not to hunker down behind walls.”

  “I know, General. So I’ll have to figure out a better way to hold this country without tying our forces down. Step back.”

  Djehuty returned to his place at the foot of the dais.

  “Bring forward Durusha’s family,” Thut ordered Intef, his herald.

  A moment later they were herded to the front of the hall, Naunakht at their head. I gave them a brief smile, mouthed “be brave.” I’d come to like them in the months we’d been together. The girls even considered me a kind of aunt.

  “These are Durusha’s children, and his wife,” I announced to the wretches in the hall. “We found them hiding in the king’s tent on the battlefield. His Majesty will carry them back to Kemet as hostages.” I addressed Megiddo’s king. “Send word to Durusha that if he rises in rebellion against Kemet again – ever – they will all die.”

  Several of the girls cried out. Durusha’s wife hugged the youngest one against her skirt.

  “I will send word,” the king said.

  Thut and I had practiced many times during the siege what I was to say on the day of surrender, for Thut had never doubted this day would come. “The riches of Megiddo are forfeit,” I informed the king and chieftains. “You’ll deliver all of your gold and jewels and precious items to King Menkheperre as tribute. You’ll do this before sunset today.”