Fall of the House of Ramesses, Book 2: Seti

by Max Overton

  "Son of Re," Samut said, apprehension written plainly on his face. "We cannot continue much longer. My men are weakening and soon we will not be able to keep the peace in the city."

  "Is that what you call it?" Roma-Rui asked. "My priests are jostled in the streets and men mutter against the king with impunity."

  "I have a depleted legion and they cannot be everywhere."

  Amenmesse stirred on his throne. "What about the Medjay?"

  "The Medjay are next to useless, Majesty. They prefer to sit at home and drink weak beer rather than patrolling the streets."

  "Really? Where do they get the beer from? Even my priests can't get more than the occasional jug."

  Samut shrugged. "There is still grain to be had if you're willing to pay for it, or steal it. Some people would rather brew beer with it than bake bread."

  "They should be giving it to the temple," Roma-Rui complained. "Even the god needs to eat."

  A half smile crossed Amenmesse's face. "The god or his priests?"

  "It is the same thing," Roma-Rui said stiffly.

  "Well, either way, we need food quickly or...or there is no hope."

  "General Sethi will come and defeat my brother's legions."

  "You cannot seriously believe that, Son of Re," Roma-Rui said. "It has been five months since any man saw him alive. He is dead."

  "If he was dead, my brother would have paraded his body outside the walls. No, I tell you he is alive and raising men for my relief."

  "Raising men from where? You have seen the throngs of Kushite warriors that are now part of your brother's legions? Those are the ones who surrendered. The others have run off back to their villages and now milk their herds and pleasure their wives."

  "They were gathered once; they can be gathered again," Amenmesse said obstinately.

  "There might be another possibility, Son of Re," Samut said. "If General Sethi has raised men, he might find it hard to get close to Waset without provoking a battle."

  "But that is precisely what he must do. How else will he break the blockade on the city?"

  "Perhaps he has insufficient men to be certain of the outcome. If that is the case he will rely on the presence of your royal self, Son of Re, to hearten his men and turn their hearts into lions."

  "Well, if that's the case I don't see what can be done," Amenmesse said. "I am here and he is there, so he must come to me."

  "Or you could go to him."

  Amenmesse stared. "What are you talking about?"

  Samut licked his lips and cleared his throat. "I...I think we could smuggle your Majesty out of the city."

  Amenmesse continued staring at his legion commander, but now his fingers tapped a staccato rhythm on the arm of his throne. "My brother has this city locked up tighter than a virgin's passage. There is no way out."

  "Forgive me, Son of Re, but there is."

  "Do you know what he is talking about, Roma-Rui?"

  "No, Majesty, but I think if there truly was a way out it would either have been used to invade the city already, or else it has been blocked."

  "It exists," Samut declared. "Few people are aware of it and none dare use it for the way is dangerous. I would not suggest it were your Majesty not imprisoned in the city."

  "Go on then. Where is this magical way out?"

  "In a small House of Embalming set into the wall of the city. There is a lower room which acts as a storehouse for unguents and resins and behind a cracked stone sarcophagus in it is a passage which leads to the riverbank some two hundred paces north of the wall."

  "I have never heard of such a thing," Roma-Rui said. "How do you know this?"

  "I was not always a soldier. Before I joined the legion I was an apprentice embalmer in that self-same House. As a youth I investigated the tunnel and walked it far enough to see daylight at the other end."

  "But you did not walk it to its end?" Amenmesse asked. "How then do you know it ends at the river?"

  "The tunnel is flooded at the far end, the water waist deep and...and there was a crocodile. I did not dare go further, but the presence of a crocodile means it must be connected with the river."

  "Under water perhaps," Roma-Rui commented.

  Samut shook his head. "I saw daylight. It is open to the sky."

  Amenmesse considered this tale for a while. "Why then has the enemy not made use of it? I cannot believe they would ignore the presence of a way into the city."

  Again Samut shrugged. "I do not know, Son of Re, but perhaps the entrance is hidden by reeds, or the ground has fallen in on it, or perhaps a crocodile lives within it still."

  "It would be a small matter to kill the crocodile."

  "Indeed, Son of Re, but why would they bother killing a beast in its lair if they did not suspect there was a tunnel or that it led anywhere?"

  "Let us assume this tunnel exists and that I can use it to go out of the city," Amenmesse said. "I find myself on the riverbank...but what then? I am in the midst of my enemies. I would do better to remain here. We can hold the city for as long as there are men left alive. Why take the risk when Sethi can be no more than a few days away?"

  "I think Commander Samut is right, Majesty," Roma-Rui said. "You are effectively imprisoned in Waset. If we can get you away from the city you will be able to rally all your supporters, particularly those who think you are shut up in the city, and deal a mighty blow to your brother's army with or without the help of General Sethi."

  "And we can steal a fishing boat easily enough," Samut added.

  Amenmesse thought a while longer, chewing his lower lip and frowning. "I will need men with me I can trust."

  "Not too many," Samut cautioned. "The arrival of a body of men on the riverbank will attract notice. Two men perhaps, one to steal a boat and another to guard your Majesty while he does so."

  "You?"

  "I would be honoured, Son of Re, but I have men better suited for the task. I intend to lead a break out in the south to divert attention there."

  Amenmesse nodded. "Go then, Commander Samut, and arrange matters, but in the greatest secrecy. No man beyond us three must know I have left Waset."

  Two days later, Samut welcomed his king into the silent and deserted House of Embalming and ushered him and the two guards who accompanied him down a flight of stone steps and into the storeroom. He had already moved the stone sarcophagus aside, revealing a black hole in the wall whence moist air gusted, stinking of rotten mud and crocodile excrement.

  "In there?" Amenmesse asked. "It stinks."

  "I have trodden the passage as far as the water, Son of Re, and can find no trace of a crocodile. It may be that there is one closer to the river, but you have two armed guards. As for the mud, well...the river is clean and will soon wash off the noisome residue."

  "It is dark too."

  Samut showed the king a bundle of resin-soaked torches. "More than enough to light the way," he said.

  Amenmesse contemplated the opening for a time and then nodded. "You said you would create a diversion."

  "Yes, Son of Re. As soon as you enter the tunnel I will run to the southern gate and create a disturbance such as will draw the enemy's attention from the north. It will take you a twelfth part of a day to negotiate the tunnel, so I will time the disturbance accordingly."

  "And the fishing boat? What if we can't find one?"

  "I have seen from the walls that there are many fishing boats drawn up along that stretch of the river. It will be a simple matter to steal one and sail across the river to the western shore. The priests in the House of Eternity of Nebmaatre are loyal to your cause. They will aid you."

  Amenmesse motioned for his guards to precede him into the tunnel. They lit torches from an oil lamp illuminating the storeroom and, after handing one to the king and clasping the others with their spears, ducked into the low tunnel. Amenmesse made as if to follow and then stopped. He turned to Samut and looked at him gravely.

  "I will not forget this, Samut."

  "May the gods sp
eed you on your way, Son of Re."

  Samut watched as King Amenmesse made his way along the narrow passage, his figure lit fitfully by the flickering light of the torch, and then hurried up the steps and through the deserted House of Embalming with its odours that evoked nostalgic memories of youth. The daylight dazzled him as he emerged onto the streets of the city and he made his way through them to the southern end where the main gate pierced the wall near the Great Temple of Amun. Here he found Bakenkhons, Fourth Prophet of Amun, waiting for him.

  "It is done?" Bakenkhons asked.

  Samut nodded. "Menmire Amenmesse is on his way out of the city."

  "Then we must act at once."

  "You have men on the gates?"

  "Of course. How many men will you take with you?"

  "None."

  "Is that wise?"

  "I must have men with me I can trust absolutely, and you are the only man I would have with me."

  Bakenkhons smiled briefly. "I must stay in the temple and open the gates when all is accomplished."

  Samut nodded. "We are doing the right thing, aren't we?"

  "It will bring the war to an end. Now come, let us do this thing before we are discovered."

  Samut and Bakenkhons walked to the south-eastern gate where a small group of men waited, fidgeting with nervousness. Relief showed on their faces when the Fourth Prophet turned up and two of the men greeted him effusively.

  "Open the gate," Bakenkhons ordered. "Quickly, before anyone else arrives."

  The men leapt to obey, and wrestled the huge timber gates, easing them apart enough for Samut to slip through the gap.

  "May Amun bless you," the priest murmured.

  "Halt! You there, what are you doing?"

  Bakenkhons turned to see a squad of temple guards approaching at a run. He stepped to meet them, holding up his arms. "Who are you to question me? I am Fourth Prophet Bakenkhons and I..."

  "I know who you are," said the officer in charge, "and I answer directly to the Hem-netjer himself. I ask you once more, what are you doing and why is the gate open?"

  One of the guards ran past and, shouldering Bakenkhons' men aside, peered through the gap between the timbers.

  "Sir, there is a man out here...it is Commander Samut and he is...he is walking toward the enemy."

  The officer ordered his men to hold Bakenkhons and strode toward the gate, staring out at the figure of Samut some fifty paces away.

  "Commander Samut, what are you doing out here? Come back at once."

  Samut said nothing, just hunched his shoulders and continued walking.

  "Commander Samut, the Hem-netjer of Amun, Roma-Rui, orders you to return."

  Samut ignored him.

  "Return or I will order my men to kill you."

  Samut looked back over his shoulder and saw two archers standing by the officer just outside the gate. He hesitated a moment and then kept walking.

  An arrow hissed past him and buried itself in the sand. Samut took to his heels, jinking and swerving as other arrows slashed through the air. One ripped through his kilt, grazing his thigh and he stumbled before running on.

  Now the commotion had attracted the attention of the enemy soldiers and a number of them ran out to intercept him, spears or axes in hand. Others drew their bows and showered the Waset archers with arrows, driving them and their officer back inside the city. Samut was surrounded and he held his arms out while blood trickled down his leg and his chest heaved with his exertion.

  "I am Commander Samut of the Amun legion," he said. "Take me to the king."

  "What king is that?" jeered one of the soldiers. "Your cowardly king is hiding in Waset."

  "There is only one king of Kemet," Samut replied. "Userkheperure Seti. Now take me to him, for I have news that he needs to hear."

  Chapter 42

  Year 5 of Userkheperure Seti

  Year 4 of Menmire Amenmesse

  The day-to-day business of a kingdom does not stop when the king is at war, it only becomes more complex. Almost every day that Seti was on campaign, and every day now that he was encamped outside Waset, he held court as if he was in his throne room in Men-nefer. A stream of messengers raced north and south on the Royal Way, connecting the king with his Tjaty and through him, every part of Ta Mehu. Other messengers visited every city in Ta Shemau, apprising the governors and officials of the changed status of the sons of Baenre Merenptah and bringing back carefully phrased assurances of loyalty.

  A town grew up around Seti's command tent and the basic living quarters behind it. Every aspect of life in a royal palace was duplicated there on the dusty plain outside Waset, and after several months of stalemate, the issue of the war against his brother was assuming an unreal air. His troops had scoured the countryside for any sign of General Sethi, for Seti meant to execute him publicly outside the city so that the inhabitants should lose heart, but he was nowhere to be found. None of the bodies of the fallen resembled him and aside for a few vague tales of his appearance between Waset and Kush, he seemed to have been swallowed up by the desert.

  There were other matters to divert the king. Of consuming importance was the pregnancy of Queen Tausret. The physicians had assured her the child would be the longed-for and much needed heir to his father's throne. At present, the only person with some claim to the Double Throne was Menmire Amenmesse and after him his son Siptah. Seti quite liked the young boy, eight years old now, but he was not of his own blood, of his own loins, and Seti thirsted to have his own son succeed him.

  The other matter that was becoming of pressing importance was the northern frontier. Whether the Kanaanites, Hatti, and Sea Peoples were unaware that no legions guarded the entrance to Ta Mehu or whether they were just unready to pluck the ripe fruit that were the rich lands of the river country, they would not be forever. As soon as his army had invested the rebel stronghold, Seti had sent two legions north. Two legions would have been enough ordinarily, but while Sethi remained unaccounted for, he dared not send his experienced legions away. Instead, the legions of Wadjet and Sobek had gone north to face the Nine Bows, and they would have to suffice.

  Seti held court in his tented throne room and listened to his scribes reading out messages and petitions. Some people even brought their requests before him in person and these tended to receive a quicker and often more favourable response. He missed the presence of his Tjaty, but relied instead on the advice of his army commanders, particularly General Iurudef and Commander Setnakhte.

  Seti yawned and stretched as he dismissed the latest petitioner, instructing the scribe to take down a note for Chancellor Bay to release a deben of gold to the bearer. "I think I will stop here," he said. "What other business remains?"

  "Three more petitions, Son of Re," said the head scribe, "Nothing that cannot wait upon my lord's pleasure...and a letter that purports to come from Queen Tausret, though it is not easy to decipher the script. If it is indeed from the Queen, then her scribe needs a reprimand, if not a beating."

  Seti took the letter, looked at it and laughed. "It is written in Tausret's own hand. She prides herself on being able to write but she has an atrocious style."

  The head scribe flushed and bowed to hide his embarrassment. "My apologies, Son of Re. I had no idea."

  Seti waved the scribe away and looked at his army commanders. "You will join me for refreshment?"

  "Delighted, Great One," Iurudef said. Setnakhte said nothing but bowed briefly.

  The king led his two commanders into his personal tent where servants had laid out a simple meal, fresh-baked bread, a variety of braised vegetables and slices of fatty beef. There was also a choice of wine and barley beer.

  While his commanders ate and drank, Seti broke open the seal on his wife's letter and scanned the contents. It was short and to the point and his face lit up as he read the words.

  "Listen to this. Queen Tausret has given birth to a boy. He is lusty and cries incessantly but with a strong voice. The physicians agree he is healthy."
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  "Wonderful news, Son of Re," Setnakhte exclaimed.

  "Indeed, Great One," Iurudef agreed. "May your son be the first of many."

  "I have no doubt that he will be," Seti said. "I must give the news to the army; it will hearten them to know that the dynasty of the great Usermaatre lives on."

  "It will gladden them for your own sake, Great One," Iurudef said. "Have you chosen a birth name?"

  Seti cogitated for a few moments. "I think his name should reflect his inheritance. Seti-Merenptah, I think."

  "Perfect," Iurudef said. "Named for two strong kings."

  "And a legitimate heir to continue your line," Setnakhte agreed.

  Seti accepted a cup of strong rich wine from a servant and drank deeply, wincing as the river-cooled drink sparked a pang of pain in a worn tooth. He called the head scribe in and gave orders that the news of his son's birth be proclaimed and that an extra beer ration was to be issued to the army that evening as a celebration.

  "Yes, Son of Re. The captain of the guard requests an audience. He says he has captured a man who claims to be Commander of the Amun legion. I told him he must wait."

  "Amun legion, you say? Where did they capture him?"

  "I do not know, Son of Re."

  "What do you think, Iurudef? I thought the Amun was locked up in the city."

  "So did I, Great One. If they are indeed outside, then my scouts have failed and will pay for it."

  "Send the captain of the guard in."

  The scribe hurried off and a few moments later Huni the captain entered the royal tent and dropped to his knees. "Son of Re, I have captured a man who says he is Commander of the Amun legion."

  "The Amun legion is out? Why was I not told?"

  "Son of Re, only this man came out of the city...though archers also came out and shot at him as he ran."

  "Doesn't sound like any proper commander," Iurudef commented. "More likely some common soldier who has lost his nerve and seeks to exaggerate his importance."

  "That was my thought," Seti said.

  "Son of Re, he wears a commander's armband," Huni said.