As regent, Ramses received many petitions and a great deal of official mail. Ahmeni discarded what was worthless and drafted answers to which the crown prince affixed his seal. The private secretary read each letter, pursued each official matter. The regent’s office must perform flawlessly, even if it cost Ahmeni what little strength he had left.
Ahsha was now eighteen, and his sophistication had increased. As elegant and refined as ever, he still took pains with his grooming. Close-shaven, his thin mustache perfectly trimmed and combed, he had lately begun to cover his naturally wavy hair with a costly wig. His fine features bore the stamp of his proud aristocratic lineage.
There was general agreement on Ahsha’s merits. Senior diplomats could not find enough good things to say about him, and no one understood why Pharaoh hadn’t yet assigned him to a high-level diplomatic post. Ahsha, unruffled as ever, made no complaint. With his inside knowledge of State Department workings, he knew that his turn would come soon.
Nevertheless, he was surprised when the prince regent called on him. He immediately felt he was on the wrong footing: he should have been the one to pay a congratulatory call on Ramses.
“Accept my excuses, Prince Regent of Egypt.”
“There’s no need for excuses between friends.”
“I neglected my duty.”
“Are you satisfied with your work?”
“More or less, though I’d like a more active life.”
“Where would you like to go?”
“To Asia. That’s where the fate of the world will be settled. Without accurate intelligence, Egypt will be at a serious disadvantage.”
“Does our diplomacy seem out of step to you?”
“From what I gather, yes.”
“What do you suggest?”
“We should spend more time in the field, get a better understanding of how our allies and enemies think, take stock of their strengths and weaknesses, stop thinking that we’re invulnerable.”
“Are the Hittites really a threat?”
“There are so many conflicting rumors. Who can really gauge the size or strength of their military? So far, direct conflict has been avoided.”
“Do you regret that?”
“Of course not, but you have to agree the situation is equivocal.”
“Aren’t you happy in Memphis?”
“A rich family, a nice place to live, a career on the fast track . . . is that happiness? I speak several languages, including Hittite; why not use my talents?”
“I can help you.”
“How so?”
“As regent, I’ll suggest that the king appoint you to one of our Asian embassies.”
“I can’t thank you enough!”
“Hold on, now. It’s still up to Seti.”
“I appreciate the offer.”
“Let’s hope we get results.”
Everyone who was anyone was invited to Dolora’s birthday party, though since his coronation Seti no longer attended such events. Leaving the arrangements to Shaanar, Ramses hoped he could also find a way out of it, but on Ahmeni’s advice he made an appearance before dinner.
Paunchy and jovial as ever, Sary steered the new regent clear of well-wishers and, most of all, favor-seekers.
“It’s an honor to have you here. You make your old teacher feel proud—if a little jaded.”
“Why is that?”
“I won’t have another chance to educate a future regent. Next to you, the students at the Kap will seem a bit dull, I’m afraid.”
“Are you saying you want to change jobs?”
“I admit that managing the granaries would be more interesting and leave me more time to spend with Dolora. But don’t think I’m one more petitioner asking you for a favor! Just your old friend and teacher.”
Ramses nodded. His sister hurried over, heavy makeup adding ten years to her age. Sary took his leave.
“Did my husband speak to you?”
“He did.”
“I’m so glad that you’ve taken Shaanar’s place. He’s an evil little worm who was working against us.”
“What harm did he ever do you?”
“No matter. You’re the regent now, not him. Stick with your real supporters.”
“You and Sary overestimate my influence.”
Dolora batted her eyes at him. “Meaning?”
“I don’t hand out government appointments. My job is to study my father’s approach to the kingship so that I can follow in his footsteps, if the gods so desire.”
“Don’t be so holier-than-thou! Anyone as close as you are to the throne is only concerned with building influence and consolidating support. Sary and I want to be part of your inner circle. We deserve it, and besides, we have a lot to contribute.”
“You’re misjudging me and our father. Egypt isn’t run by factions. Being regent gives me a chance to observe how Pharaoh rules and draw lessons from it.”
“You’re not talking sense. All that counts on this earth is ambition. You’re no better than anyone else, Ramses. Face facts, or else you won’t survive long.”
Alone beneath the colonnade in front of his residence, Shaanar drew conclusions from the latest batch of information reaching him. Luckily, his network of connections had not come unglued, nor had the number of Ramses’ enemies decreased. They reported everything the crown prince said and did, since they considered Shaanar a more likely prospect to become Pharaoh once Seti died. The new regent’s almost passive behavior, his unconditional allegiance and blind obedience to Seti, lent him little credibility as a leader.
Shaanar, however, was less optimistic, in view of a recent catastrophic event: Ramses’ short trip to Heliopolis. That was where a pharaoh was acknowledged as a pharaoh, where the first kings of Egypt had been crowned.
It was a clear stamp of approval from Seti, the more so since Ramses had been shown the sacred scale, as one loose-tongued priest reported. The reigning pharaoh thus recognized the regent’s capacity for rectitude and ability to implement the law of Ma’at. This crucial step had been taken in secret, of course, and so far had only magical value, but Seti’s intention was clear, and nothing would change his mind.
Chief of protocol—what a farce! Seti and Ramses hoped he would settle into this cozy position and forget his dreams of glory, while the regent little by little seized the reins of power.
Ramses was more devious than he appeared. His humble exterior cloaked a fierce ambition. Treading softly around his older brother, he had tried to pull the wool over his eyes, but the trip to Heliopolis revealed his true plans. Shaanar would have to change his strategy. Waiting for Ramses to trip himself up would never work. It was time to go on the offensive and consider Ramses a tough competitor. Attacking from the inside would not be enough. Strange thoughts ran through Shaanar’s mind, so strange they frightened him.
His desire for revenge won out in the end. Life as Ramses’ subject would be unbearable. No matter the consequences of this surreptitious battle he was launching—he would proceed.
The boat sailed down the Nile with stately elegance, its broad white sail unfurled. The captain knew the river’s every current and used them to his advantage. Shaanar was seated in his cabin, out of the sun. He was avoiding heatstroke, but also wanted to keep his complexion pale, to differentiate himself from the lower classes.
Sitting across from him, sipping carob juice, was Ahsha.
“No one saw you come on board, I trust?”
“I took care not to be seen.”
“You’re a wise man.”
“I’m mainly curious. Why all the secrecy?”
“While you were a student at the Kap, you were friends with Ramses.”
“We were classmates.”
“Since he was named regent, have you been in touch?”
“He’s trying to have me named to a post in Asia.”
“I helped your request along, believe me, even if I no longer have the means to grant your request directly, now that I’m in disgrace.�
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“Disgrace . . . isn’t the term a bit strong?”
“Ramses hates me and cares little for the good of the country. His only goal is absolute power. If no one stops him, the country is headed for ruin. It’s my duty to help prevent it, and I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
Ahsha remained impassive. “I knew Ramses well,” he objected, “and he was nothing like the future tyrant you describe.”
“He’s playing a very clever game, posing as a good son and Seti’s obedient disciple. Nothing goes over better with the court and the people. He even had me fooled for a while. His real aim, however, is to be Lord of the Two Lands as soon as possible. Did you know he went to Heliopolis to be approved by the high priest there?”
The argument was not lost on Ahsha. “That does seem premature.”
“Ramses has a negative influence on Seti. As I see it, he is trying to persuade the king to step down and hand the power over to him.”
“Is Seti that easily manipulated?”
“If not, why would he have chosen Ramses as regent? I’m the oldest, and better equipped to help him run the government.”
“And make sweeping changes?”
“Only because they’re necessary! Too many old ways are outdated. When the great Horemheb revised the legal code, his wisdom was applauded. The old laws had grown unjust.”
“Do you plan to open Egypt to the outside world?”
“I did. International trade seemed the only real guarantee of prosperity.”
“And now you’re not so sure?”
Shaanar grew somber. “The prospect of Ramses’ reign has forced me to modify my plans. That’s why I wanted to keep our conversation confidential. What I need to discuss with you is of the gravest importance. In order to save my country, I must undertake a secret war against Ramses. If you join me, you will have a major role to play, and when we take over, you will be compensated accordingly.”
Ahsha, unreadable, sat and thought.
If he refused to play along, Shaanar mused, the young diplomat would have to be eliminated; he already knew far too much. But the prince needed good men, and there was no other way to recruit them. Ahsha would be one of the best.
“Fill me in a bit,” Ahsha said finally.
“Trade relations with Asia won’t be enough to overthrow Ramses. Given the circumstances, we will have to go much further.”
“Do you envision some other . . . some sort of agreement with foreign powers?”
“When the Hyksos invaded and governed the country, centuries ago, they were helped by several provincial chiefs in the Delta who preferred collaboration to death. Let’s go ahead of history, Ahsha, and use the Hittites to get rid of Ramses. Let’s form a group to keep our country moving in the right direction.”
“The danger would be considerable.”
“Should we just give Ramses carte blanche, then?”
“Tell me exactly what you have in mind.”
“Your Asian appointment will be the first step. I know all about your exceptional gift for making contacts. You’ll need to win the enemy’s friendship and convince them to help us.”
“No one knows what the Hittites’ real intentions are.”
“We’ll find out, though, thanks to you. Then we’ll adapt our strategy and manipulate Ramses into committing fatal errors that can be turned to our advantage.”
Coolly, Ahsha crossed his fingers. “A surprising plan, in all honesty, and quite risky.”
“Nothing ventured . . .”
“Suppose the Hittites really want only one thing: to make war.”
“In that case, we’ll arrange for Ramses to lose and for us to appear as the saviors of our country.”
“It will take several years to prepare.”
“You’re right. We start today. First, we use every means we can find to keep Ramses off the throne. If we fail, then he’ll have to be overthrown, attacked from within and without. I consider him a strong opponent who will only get stronger. That’s why everything must be so carefully planned.”
“What are you offering in exchange for my help?”
“Would you settle for secretary of state?”
The diplomat’s slight smile showed Shaanar he had hit his mark.
“While I’m still cooped up in Memphis, I won’t be able to do much.”
“You have a fine reputation, and Ramses will help us without even knowing it. I’m convinced it’s only a matter of time before you’re named to Asia. We won’t meet again before you leave, and afterward our contact must remain a secret.”
The boat docked well outside the main harbor. On the riverbank, one of Shaanar’s allies waited to drive Ahsha home in his chariot.
The Pharaoh’s older son watched the young diplomat fade into the distance. Several men would be shadowing him. If he tried to inform Ramses, he would not have long to live.
THIRTY-EIGHT
The mastermind who had tried to have Ramses killed, using the services of the groom and charioteer, had known it all along: the king’s younger son was born to succeed him. Many of his traits were like his father’s. His apparently inexhaustible energy, his enthusiasm and intelligence, seemed capable of surmounting any difficulty. An inner fire predestined him to supreme power.
Despite his repeated predictions, no one would listen to him. Now that the prince had been chosen as regent, the mastermind’s associates had finally seen the light. They expressed regret that his earlier initiative had failed. Fortunately, the groom and charioteer were dead. He had never met them face-to-face. The agent he had used to contact them had been silenced. The investigation had reached a standstill; there was no trail leading back to him and no means of proving his guilt.
Given his plans, which were kept strictly secret, he could not afford any slipups. A hard and accurate strike was the only solution, even if Ramses’ new position made it more difficult to proceed. The crown prince was rarely alone. Ahmeni screened his visitors. The lion and watchdog provided excellent security. Any action inside the palace seemed impossible.
On the other hand, it would be quite easy to arrange an accident in the course of an official visit or expedition, under the right conditions. He had a sudden flash of inspiration. If Seti fell for the trick and took his son to Aswan, Ramses would never return.
In Year Nine of Seti’s reign, Ramses celebrated his seventeenth birthday with Ahmeni and Setau and his Nubian wife, Lotus. They were sorry Moses and Ahsha could not be with them, but Moses was still directing work on Karnak and Ahsha had just left for Lebanon on an information-gathering mission for the secretary of state. It would be harder and harder to arrange regular reunions, unless the regent could make all of his old friends into close associates. Difficult, as they were each independent-minded and tended to go their own way. Only Ahmeni refused to leave Ramses; his excuse was that the prince regent would not be able to run his office and keep his work up to date without his secretary’s services.
Lotus had catered the party herself, refusing help from the palace kitchens. They ate a succulent dish of grilled lamb with raisins and chickpeas.
“Delicious,” pronounced the regent.
“Let’s not stuff ourselves,” recommended Ahmeni. “Some of us have work to do.”
“How can you stand this finicky little grouch?” asked Setau, feeding tidbits to the dog and the lion, which had grown to an impressive size.
“Not everyone has time to chase snakes in the desert,” Ahmeni retorted. “If I didn’t write down the remedies you test, your research would all be for nothing.”
“Where have you newlyweds settled?” asked Ramses.
“On the edge of the desert,” answered Setau, eyes sparkling. “At nightfall, the reptiles come out, and Lotus and I track them. I wonder if we’ll live long enough to identify and study every kind there is.”
“Your house is no hovel,” said Ahmeni. “It’s like a laboratory. And you keep adding on to it . . . with all the money you make selling your potions to the
hospitals, that’s hardly surprising.”
The snake charmer shot a curious glance at the young scribe. “Where did you learn all that? You never set foot outside your office!”
“Isolated or not, your house is in the registry and you pay for waste disposal. It’s my job to procure information that might be useful to the regent.”
“You’re spying on us! You’re worse than a scorpion, you little wretch.”
The yellow dog barked merrily, not believing in Setau’s anger as he continued his mock sparring with Ahmeni. Suddenly there was a real intruder to worry about: a messenger from the Pharaoh asked Ramses to drop everything and follow him.
Seti and Ramses walked slowly down the path winding between huge blocks of pink granite. Arriving that very morning in Aswan, the sovereign and his son had gone at once to the quarries. Pharaoh wanted to see for himself what truth there was to the alarming report he had received. Furthermore, he wanted to introduce his son to the primary source of obelisks, colossal statues, doors, and thresholds of temples, and other masterpieces carved from this incomparable stone.
The missive had detailed serious conflict involving the foremen, workers, and soldiers in charge of transporting enormous monoliths on huge, linked barges, constructed especially for the purpose. Another, even more serious, problem was mentioned: experts estimated that the main quarry was mined out. Supposedly, there were only limited veins of stone left, too short to yield good-sized obelisks or giant statues.
The message was signed by a certain Aper, the head quarryman, and had not come through the usual official channels. Fearing his superiors’ wrath if they learned of his revelations, the quarryman had decided to go straight to the Pharaoh. Seti’s staff, judging the report to be balanced and realistic, had passed it on to him.
Ramses felt at ease in the sun-baked rock. He sensed the stone’s everlasting strength, waiting to be unleashed by sculptors. The huge Aswan quarry had provided a solid foundation for Egypt since the days of the First Dynasty. It represented continuity, work spanning generations and outlasting time.
Ramses, Volume I Page 21
