“But you won a sweeping victory!” Useramun exclaimed. “You waged a remarkable campaign. You’ve gained control of all of Retenu. The cities of the North once again recognize Kemet’s authority. Even the Assyrian and Babylonian and Hittite kings have sent you gifts, seeking your friendship.”
“But the prize I desired most escaped me, Useramun.” I heard the frustration in Thut’s voice. Time and distance from Megiddo had only enhanced what he considered to be a failure on his part. “Durusha, the traitorous King of Kadesh, still lives. And his Mitanni allies sent me nothing after I defeated their tool. They’re foolish enough to think they can still challenge me, with his help.”
“Will the Mitanni move into Setjet, do you think?”
“Probably. I’ll be prepared for them if they do. At any rate, I won’t rest until I’ve eliminated Durusha as a threat. No matter how long it takes. I promise you that, before my father Amun.”
At the back of Amun’s division were more musicians and dancing girls, directly in front of all the soldiers who were to be honored this day for their valor during the campaign. The soldiers halted en masse before the pavilion, and both Thut and Djehuty rose and saluted them respectfully. The rest of us rose as well. Most of the men standing before us were common soldiers and archers and charioteers; a few were commanders; all were proud. One by one, as Intef called out their names and described their accomplishments, they approached the throne, climbed the dais, knelt at Thut’s feet. He then rewarded them. Some he decorated with golden necklaces bearing the three gold flies of valor. Some he awarded the enemies they had captured, to serve as their slaves. To some he granted land. Each award was greeted with raucous cheers from the assembled crowd.
Thut’s highest ranking officers came last. He awarded titles and staffs of office to several, along with much land and many slaves. By his generosity, Thut sought to cement the loyalty of his very best soldiers, the men he was going to need to build his empire.
Intef cried out once more. “General Djehuty, step forward!”
The general moved from Thut’s side and knelt before him. That he, the greatest of Thut’s soldiers, should be honored last today was fitting. I was excited, for Thut had shown me the objects he planned to present to Djehuty, and they were spectacular, rich, of unparalleled workmanship.
“General, for your brilliant strategy that led to the capture of Yapu, and for your leadership of my army on this campaign and at the siege of Megiddo, I present you with gifts.”
Royal butlers from the per’aa carried them forward. The first was a large shallow bowl of solid gold, with Re in the center, surrounded by six swimming tilapia fish, which were themselves surrounded by outward–facing lotus blossoms. I’d never seen any bowl so magnificently decorated. It shone brilliantly in the sun.
“The raised outer edge is inscribed with your name, your titles, and your victories,” Thut told him.
Djehuty took the bowl, smiled, traced the hieroglyphs with a finger. “Your Majesty is too generous,” he said. “All I ask of you is the chance to win many more victories in your service.”
“That you shall, old friend,” Thut said.
He then presented the general with a bowl of silver, a gold bracelet with Thut’s cartouche, a ring with a swivel bezel inscribed ‘Menkheperre,’ a green heart–scarab mounted in gold on a gold chain, and a bronze dagger with an inlaid wood grip. Finally, Thut placed a gold necklace with flies of valor around the general’s neck, joining three more necklaces that already dangled there. Thut extended his hand and raised Djehuty to his feet, and Djehuty moved once again to Thut’s side, beaming. The watching soldiers gathered throughout the square cheered Djehuty loud and long, the foot soldiers banging their daggers against their wood–framed shields, the charioteers against their chariots. All his men clearly loved him.
I supposed this part of the ceremony was over. All that was left was the execution of the prisoners in the courtyard of Amun’s temple.
“Great Companion of the King, the lady Meryetneith, come forward.”
For a moment it didn’t register that I had been summoned to stand before Thut. I saw the shocked looks on the faces of his wives and officials, the instant flash of anger on Iset’s. Then Nefer turned and yanked on my arm and somehow I stumbled to Thut’s throne and knelt before him and slowly looked up.
He smiled at me.
“Majesty… there’s been a mistake,” I started to say.
Thut interrupted. “You don’t think I’m unaware of what thousands of my soldiers know about you, do you?”
“I had hoped so,” I admitted frankly.
“Sometimes you’re too daring for your own good, Mery,” Thut admonished. “It’s going to get you in trouble some day.”
“I could say the same of you, Majesty.”
Thut shook his head, laughed, raised his eyes and addressed the crowd. “Meryetneith, Great Companion of the King, Great Companion of the King’s Wife, Translator of the King, I have already named you ‘Opener of the Gate of Yapu’ for your bravery and initiative in the capture of that city. Today I award you flies of valor and publicly acknowledge your service to me.”
Thut placed the necklace around my neck. He let his fingers linger the slightest moment against my cheek. I rose, fingered the flies, thanked him gratefully, returned to my place behind Nefer in a daze, to the resounding cheers of thousands of my fellow soldiers. That meant as much to me as the necklace.
“And now we shall proceed into Ipet–Isut,” Thut announced, “and sacrifice prisoners to Amun, in gratitude for the great victory he has given me over the Nine Bows.”
1453 BC
Regnal Year 27 – Thutmose III
“All bow before the king!”
I turned at the herald’s cry to see Thut poking his head into the education room of the royal harem in the Faiyum, where Nefer and I were teaching. His mother Iset was at his side, his wives trailed him. My heart leapt for joy. We’d been informed some weeks ago that he was on his way home from his latest campaign against the Nine Bows. He must have just arrived here at the complex that sprawled across a flat plain a little south of the shore of Lake Miwer. I’d bid him goodbye, along with his wives and concubines and children, at Mennefer six months ago. I’d been worrying about him ever since.
Thut had gone to war every year since his victory at Megiddo. He had vowed at the end of that siege not to rest until Durusha, the King of Kadesh, was dead or neutralized, and Thut hadn’t. Now he spent half of each year on campaign, leaving the river valley and marching north with his army as soon as the spring harvest was done, swooping down on Setjet and Retenu just as their grain ripened in their fields, living off the land, unburdened by the need to carry supplies with him. He returned home at the start of each Northern rainy season so that his men could rest and recuperate and be reequipped. He himself spent those six months in Kemet making a lengthy tour of inspection of the valley to question local officials and ensure there was no corruption in the collection of taxes, and to generally check on the state of his kingdom. But he still managed to spend considerable time during those months meeting with his top military officers to plan the next season’s campaign.
That Thut had come to the Faiyum was a surprise. He hadn’t visited this harem even once during the four years of its existence. He resided the bulk of his time when he wasn’t at war at either Mennefer or Waset, accompanied always by his Great Wife Sitiah and his mother Iset and whichever of his other wives and concubines he’d sent for on a temporary basis. He’d always been too busy in the past to come for even a short rest, or so Sitiah had claimed. Sitiah and Iset and their ladies and servants joined us in the harem only when Thut went on campaign. But most of Thut’s minor wives and concubines, those of us who served them, and Menwi and her retinue stayed here in the Faiyum year–round, unless we were invited to an occasional festival in Mennefer or Abdju or Waset. So far neither Nefer nor I had missed an Opet or Beautiful Feast of the Valley, though Iset had threatened not to let us a
ttend a time or two when she was particularly perturbed with us.
We who lived in the harem had a small army of officials looking after us: the Overseer of the Royal Harem, the Inspector of the Harem Administration, a gatekeeper, scribes, heralds, overseers of fields and animals and vineyards and fisheries and various workshops. Nefer directed their work whenever Iset was absent; when Iset was present, Nefer was relegated to the most trivial and demeaning of roles. Along with royal children and children of the local elite, those of wet nurses and other staff lived in the harem too. Some of the boys had already formed deep friendships with Thut’s son and heir, Amenemhat; eventually, if history was a guide, they would serve in his government when he became king.
Five years after their marriage, Thut’s and Nefer’s relationship remained icy and strained. They hadn’t slept together since the Megiddo campaign; at festivals they saw each other only in public and avoided each other within the per’aa. I’d given up hope that she’d ever forgive Thut for his treatment of her in the audience hall. Nefer had no interest in reconciling. She’d accepted she’d never be the mother of a king and never be a Great Wife and had moved on. Thut had given her responsibility for the Faiyum harem and for educating his hostages; those activities utilized her abilities and kept her busy and with them she seemed content. I thought she could do so much more and never stopped telling Thut so.
My life was one of longing and desire and frustration. I was happy teaching hostages and helping Nefer run the harem estates, but I wanted Thut terribly. Thoughts of him filled my dreams. I still clung to the hope that Nefer would give him a child and we could marry; he told me I was being foolish, but respected my decision to wait. We’d managed to be alone a handful of times since Megiddo. Each time I’d felt guilty afterwards, knowing I was betraying Nefer. But I couldn’t help myself. I loved Thut with a passion that overrode my common sense.
Nefer was standing before a semicircle of thirty of the youngest girls and boys. They ranged in age from five to ten. All had ostraca on their laps and reeds in their hands and pots of black ink at their sides. They were either the sons and daughters of kings and chieftains brought back as hostages from Thut’s campaigns, or children born to the women of Menwi’s retinue. Nefer was holding up a papyrus illustrating plants that I had drawn during the siege of Megiddo. Several other teachers in the room were working with Thut’s own children or the children of his courtiers who served in the harem; its no wonder we hadn’t heard him approach over the babble of their voices. I was on the opposite side of the room from Nefer, my back to several tall windows that overlooked the garden and admitted a cooling breeze, teaching some of the older hostages, the majority taken at Megiddo, a handful from Thut’s last two triumphs in the North. The majority of their first year here these particular hostages had been frightened and confused and homesick, but by now all had adjusted to their new lives. The youngest was ten, the oldest twenty. They all spoke our language more or less fluently.
Thut’s children had already raced across the room to greet him. He was on his knees hugging his youngest daughter by Meryetre–Hatshepsut, Iset, namesake of his mother. Her sisters Nebetiunet and Meryetamun had their arms around him as well. Nefertiry, at 16 the oldest, and a beauty, and Amenemhat, two years younger and the heir to Thut’s throne, stood by more respectfully. Thut’s two daughters by Menwi were of course just infants and still in the kap. It would be years before they would be given to Nefer’s and my charge.
The rest of the children in the classroom were chattering excitedly. It was a rare occasion when they got to be in the presence of the king in such an informal setting. Pabasa, the Overseer of the Royal Harem, and Nebit, the Teacher of the Royal Children – the latter appointed by Iset specifically to oversee Nefer, and a constant thorn in her side – were by now also hovering close to the king. Nefer waded through the children to Thut’s vicinity, and I followed suit.
Iset and Sitiah pressed into the room, followed by Meryetre–Hatshepsut and Nebtu and Menwi.
“Your campaign was a success, Majesty?” Nefer asked Thut rather formally. She no longer addressed Thut in any other way.
“Very.” He smiled and looked at me. I wished we were alone, that he could take me in his arms and smother me with kisses. “You’ll have more hostages by mid–afternoon today, Mery. Their boat is with the rest of the fleet, half a day behind me.”
“I’ll be at the quay to meet them,” I assured him. “The young ones are always so afraid. It comforts them when I welcome them here in their own language.”
“Added any more to your repertoire since I’ve seen you last?” Thut asked.
“Of course she has,” Nefer interjected. “And she’s still learning as much from the hostages as they learn from her.”
“What could these wretches possibly teach us?” I heard Iset mutter under her breath. She glared at me.
If she had her way I wouldn’t be involved with the hostages any more than Nefer would. She’d told Thut so often enough, and in my presence. She had no idea of the amount of useful information I’d gained for him simply by treating the hostages kindly and taking an interest in them. Such a thing would never have occurred to her. And, having just passed her fiftieth year, she was more set in her ways than ever – blind, uncompromising, inflexible.
Nefer moved away from Thut and back towards the front of the room. She started trying to settle the children and get them under a semblance of control.
“Tell His Majesty what you do here,” Iset ordered Nebit.
The Teacher of the Royal Children swelled with importance. “I myself, and the several teachers who work under me, educate the royal children and the sons of the high officials who are being raised in the harem. We teach them to write, teach them about the gods, teach them about our laws, prepare them for the duties they will someday assume in service to Your Majesty.”
“I see. What of botany and geography and history?” Thut inquired.
“I teach them about the river valley, from the Great Green to the First Cataract,” Nebit sniffed. He tilted his head towards Nefer and me. “Those two insist on teaching about the lands beyond our borders, though I think it a waste of time and have forbidden it.” His eyes met Iset’s.
She nodded self–righteously though Thut, standing in front of her, could not see. Everything Nebit did was at Iset’s command, from what he taught to how he taught it. The problem was that she was narrow–minded and, in my opinion, out of touch with the skills the officials who served Thut’s empire were going to need. She didn’t really understand the concept of empire, from what I’d observed. So whenever Iset wasn’t in residence at the harem both Nefer and I ignored Nebit and did what we thought best. There was little Nebit could do about us when Iset wasn’t present to back him up – being a king’s wife did give Nefer an advantage over him in that, at least
“I’m the one at fault, Majesty,” I hastened to assure Thut. Nefer couldn’t afford to tangle with Iset in public, but I could, and I was prepared to suffer whatever consequences came with it. Protecting Nefer from Iset, it seemed, had become the primary purpose of my life since her marriage, a role I had gladly accepted. “I’ve simply told the royal children and the children of your officials about what I myself have seen, in Retenu and Nubia and our eastern desert and Punt. And I’ve encouraged the hostages to tell all of us about their own lands – geography, botany, customs, laws, history, styles of painting and other decoration, animals, food.”
“Despite my explicit orders not to,” Nebit added pompously.
It disturbed him to no end that I ignored everything he told me. But Thut had put Nefer in charge of this school and I did not recognize Nebit’s or Iset’s restrictions.
“Since Setjet and Retenu and Nubia belong to me, it is well that you teach about what lies beyond this valley, Mery,” Thut said. He addressed Nebit. “From now on, such matters will be part of the course of education in these rooms. My wife Neferure and my Great Companion Meryetneith will see to it. They will re
port to me if this explicit instruction is not carried out. My children and my future officials must be prepared to rule an empire, not just this valley.”
Nebit’s face flamed red. “As Your Majesty wishes.”
Iset glared at me, utter hatred flashing from her eyes.
Nefer had seated herself among the younger hostages to quiet them, and they were now clustered around her. A few clung to her legs, afraid of Thut, knowing him only as the man who had taken them from their parents and their homes. They loved Nefer, and she them. They had truly become her children these past years. Even the older hostages loved her. Nefer had never lost that magnetic personality that she’d had since we were very young, the one that drew almost everyone to her. All of the older boys had crushes on her.
“Only you and Neferure teach the hostages?” Thut asked me.
“Yes, Majesty.”
“How do you go about it?”
“I take charge of them upon their arrival in the Faiyum, Majesty,” I said. “The first few months we spend by ourselves in another part of the harem, where I teach them our language and customs. As soon as they are able to understand Kemetian and make themselves understood I send the girls off to work with the linen makers. I send those boys who are very sullen and have not accepted their fate to work in the fields. The vast majority of the boys, and a handful of the very brightest girls, I send here so that their true education can begin, under Nefer’s guidance.”
“Why girls?” Thut asked, mildly surprised.
“If Your Majesty decides to marry them to your officials, they should be of use to them, I would think. Or, when you send a son back to replace his father, shouldn’t a wife go with him who is loyal to you also?”
“Impeccable logic, as always, Mery.” Thut smiled. “What do you teach them?”
“I continue to work on their language skills daily, even after they’re fluent. Only our tongue is spoken in this room, Majesty.”
Beauty of Re Page 38
