Fall of the House of Ramesses, Book 2: Seti

by Max Overton

  "Not impossible to come by," Iurudef said. "I still think it likely he is a common soldier."

  "It should be easy enough to tell," Setnakhte murmured. "Send for him, Son of Re."

  "Ah yes, I was forgetting," Seti said. "You were in the Amun legion once."

  "I did so have that honour, Divine One."

  Seti nodded. "Very well. Bring him in and we shall see."

  Captain of the guard Huni left the tent and returned a few minutes later, pushing a scrawny young man ahead of him. "On your knees," he growled.

  The prisoner shook off Huni's grasp and bowed deeply before Seti. "Greetings, Son of Re," he said. "I am Samut, Commander of the Amun legion and I come before you today, bearing news that I am sure you will welcome."

  "That remains to be seen," Seti said. He pointed at the armband and asked, "Yours?"

  "Yes, Son of Re."

  Seti looked to Setnakhte. "Is he who he says he is?"

  Setnakhte nodded slowly. "His name is Samut, and he used to be Leader of a Hundred. He could well have been promoted."

  "So you are who you say you are," Seti said. "What is this news that you say I will welcome?"

  "Your brother Menmire Amenmesse seeks to flee the city and join up with General Sethi."

  "By the gods, that would be a disaster," Setnakhte exclaimed.

  "But a very unlikely event," Iurudef said. "The city is locked up tightly and we would see anyone who left. As you found out yourself, Samut."

  "There is a tunnel, and as we speak, the king treads its muddy floor and will soon be out of Waset."

  "There is only one king, Samut," Setnakhte said. "Be careful what you say."

  "My apologies, Son of Re, I meant no disrespect, only that ...er, the man who calls himself king within Waset, is about to escape."

  "Where is this tunnel?"

  "It runs under the wall to the bank of the river."

  "I have never heard of such a tunnel, though I lived in Waset many years," Setnakhte said. "How is it that you know of it?"

  "I was an embalmer before I became a soldier, and the tunnel runs from the House of Embalming where I used to work."

  "And where does it end?"

  "On the riverbank, north of the city."

  "Can you be more precise?"

  Samut shook his head. "I only saw it once, when I was a youth. I think I could find it though."

  "How many men are with him?"

  "Just two guards. He hopes to take a fishing boat and cross the river."

  "How long before my brother exits the tunnel?" Seti asked.

  "Not long. You should hurry."

  "I can have a squad ready very quickly," Setnakhte said.

  "Wait," Seti ordered. "Why are you doing this? Has my brother wronged you that you should seek vengeance?"

  "No, Son of Re, I..."

  "And do not tell me it is because you suddenly realised I am the true Lord of the Two Lands."

  "No, Son of Re. I am only a humble soldier and the rights and wrongs of the succession are beyond the compass of my poor mind. As far as I can tell, you are both anointed kings and worthy of the throne..."

  "Then why? Do you hope for a reward? A reward for betraying your master?"

  "Only, Son of Re, that you will let me serve you. You are both kings, but this war is tearing the entrails from our beloved Kemet. One of you must win, and win quickly. That winner would seem to be you, Userkheperure Seti. Your brother will not willingly surrender until every man, woman and child in Waset are dead, so I seek to take the choice out of his hands and deliver it into yours."

  Seti stared at the kneeling man and then nodded, reaching a decision. "Setnakhte, take a squad and this man and apprehend my brother. I want him unharmed. As for this one, if he is telling the truth then I shall reward him; if he lies, I shall punish him."

  Setnakhte saluted and left the king's tent, dragging Samut with him. Within minutes, a squad of men was running across the plain toward the northern end of the city. As they neared the river, Samut slowed and looked around him. He pointed.

  "There, I think. In that reed bed."

  Setnakhte set his men to search the swampy ground in and around the reed bed and a few moments later one of them hissed and pointed to where a man in a fishing boat was sculling the tiny craft toward them.

  The man in the boat caught sight of the soldiers and stood up to get a better view. Setnakhte pointed again. "Kill him."

  Three archers immediately let fly and the man collapsed overboard, his cry of warning cutting off abruptly. The reeds swirled, and soldiers ran forward, their spears at the ready. A man erupted from a thicket, sword slashing at the soldiers closing on him, and quickly died as spears plunged into his body. Another man appeared, also holding a curved sword, and attacked the soldiers.

  "Don't hurt him," Samut yelled. "It is Menmire."

  "Stand back!" Setnakhte ordered, and as the men withdrew, he called on Amenmesse to surrender. "Lay down your weapon, Menmire Amenmesse. We have come to take you before you brother, in honour if you will have it so; in chains if you will not."

  "I see you have the traitor with you," Amenmesse replied. "How much gold has he earned from this deed?"

  "Not for gold, master," Samut said, starting to weep. "Only that the killing should stop. Forgive me, Menmire."

  "A fine soldier you turned out to be, Samut. Afraid of blood spilled in defence of your king. Well, I will not forgive you your treachery, and if my brother is fool enough to trust you then he deserves to die too." Amenmesse threw down his weapon and stared at the man beside Samut. "Setnakhte, isn't it? Another traitor."

  "I follow the true king. Come now, Menmire, and face your brother's judgement."

  Setnakhte dispatched a messenger to the king and then escorted Amenmesse and Samut back to the royal tent where he found Seti seated upon a throne, dressed in full regalia. Setnakhte bowed and presented Amenmesse, and then he retired to the edge of the tent with Samut. Iurudef and a handful of guards stood behind the throne, watchful as Amenmesse strode up to Seti.

  "Well, little brother, you are still playing the king, I see."

  Iurudef started forward, his hand on his dagger. "You will address the king properly, brother or not."

  Seti extended a hand as if to restrain his general. "Stay, Iurudef."

  "At least you have a firm hand with your dog," Amenmesse sneered. "Go back to your kennel and bark, Iurudef, and leave your betters to converse."

  "Enough, brother," Seti said quietly. "It is at an end. The gods have decided the fate of Kemet."

  Amenmesse shrugged. "So it would seem. What happens now? I must die, of course."

  "I have no such intention. You are my father's eldest son and I honour you as such...but no more than that."

  "You are a fool, little brother. In your place I would not hesitate."

  "Perhaps not, but I choose to be merciful. I have it in mind that I can find you a court position somewhere. Until this day, your son Siptah was my heir..."

  "But no more?"

  "Rejoice with me brother, for I have a healthy son. I have named him Seti-Merenptah and he shall succeed me on the throne."

  Amenmesse scowled. "You are to be congratulated then."

  "Ah, I know what troubles you. Do not think that I shall put Siptah aside completely. He is my nephew after all. I shall create a place for him too."

  "You are very generous."

  Seti smiled. "You will drink with me, brother? Have some food perhaps?"

  Hunger warred with pride in Amenmesse's face. "There have been food shortages in Waset lately."

  "Of course, but that ends today, as soon as they open up the gates. I will take no reprisals against anyone, why should I? They are all my people."

  "You said there was food?"

  "Over there." Seti pointed to the table on which were spread the remains of the earlier meal. "Take what you will."

  Amenmesse crossed to the table and stared at the food, with an effort restraining himself from
cramming meat and bread into his mouth. He ate quickly, without tasting, until the hunger pains in his belly had eased. Then he became more selective, choosing the soft bread inside the loaves, dipping morsels in goose grease, or slicing off slivers of fatty beef with a short-bladed bronze knife.

  Seti came to stand beside his brother and looked sideways at him, almost shyly. "It has been many years since we were together," he said. "You have aged. One could almost think you an old man, though I still remember the man you were."

  Amenmesse chewed and swallowed, and then drained a cup of wine. "You no longer have the form of the boy you were, but whether you are a man, I cannot say."

  "Do you have no kind word for me, brother?"

  "Why should I? You stole my inheritance."

  Seti sighed. "That old tale again? You know the truth of it. The throne came to me by the will of Usermaatre and Baenre. You tried to take the throne but you failed. Accept it Messuwy."

  "I am Menmire Amenmesse."

  "You were once, but now you are plain Messuwy again and your fate depends on my goodwill. You would do well to remember that."

  Amenmesse cut a fig in two and bit into half. He tapped the knife blade gently on a wooden platter in front of him, staring down at the bowl of fruit.

  "You have an infant son, whereas I have a child already grown."

  "What of it?"

  "Only that in a choice between our two lines, most reasonable men would choose mine."

  Seti laughed. "The choice is no longer there. My line has been chosen."

  "Let the gods decide."

  As Amenmesse spoke, he gripped the short knife firmly and whirled, striking out at his brother. Iurudef shouted and lurched forward, Setnakhte and the guards a heartbeat behind him, but they were too late. The sharp bronze blade slashed through the fabric of Seti's tunic, scoring a path across his arm and plunging at an angle into the flesh of his chest.

  Seti staggered back with blood blooming on the linen of his tunic and Amenmesse followed, blade stabbing forward. Iurudef threw himself between the two brothers, while Setnakhte collided with Amenmesse, hurling him to the floor and the spears of the guards stabbed down.

  "Hold!" Seti bellowed, wrestling his General aside. "Do not harm him."

  The guards arrested the downward motion of their spears, though their bright blades hovered near the fallen man's throat and chest. Setnakhte scrambled to his feet and plucked the knife from Amenmesse's grasp.

  "He deserves to die," Setnakhte said. "He raised his hand to the king."

  "He is still my brother, and I do not want his death." Seti looked down at Amenmesse, the blood dripping from his arm and chest. "Why would you do that when I had granted you your life?"

  "Life as what?" Amenmesse asked. "As nobody? I am a king." He shrugged and tried to push aside the spears. "Either let me up or kill me. The gods have spoken."

  "Indeed they have, Messuwy my brother." Seti signed to the guards. "Let him up and guard him well. Put him in chains until I decide his fate."

  Iurudef pulled aside Seti's tunic as Messuwy, who was once Amenmesse, was led away. He grimaced when he saw the wound.

  "Call a physician," he said to Setnakhte. "It looks to be a clean wound, but it bleeds freely and needs seeing to."

  "Enough of that," Seti replied. "It is a scratch, no more."

  Chapter 43

  Chancellor Bay speaks:

  My life and my future hang in the balance. Userkheperure Seti has triumphed and Menmire Amenmesse has fallen. If that was not enough, Queen Tausret has given birth to a healthy son who will likely succeed his father on the throne, and my own precious nephew, Siptah, will be relegated to obscurity. If he survives, that is. It is almost certain that my sister's husband Menmire will be executed and so often the family of the fallen follow them into death. Perhaps the arm of death will extend even to me, though I have ever sought to openly be of service to Userkheperure and Tausret.

  The king has sent for me and I must obey his summons, travelling on the royal barge upriver to Waset. A soldier handed me the summons in the presence of Tjaty Hori and stood watching me, his hand on his sword. My first thought was of flight, but where would I run except back to my native Amurru? Even if I could give this soldier the slip I would be hunted down and handed to the king in chains. Ignominy would only cheapen my death.

  Does Hori know my fate? Has he been told? He gave no sign of it, smiling pleasantly as if I had been favoured by the king. Hori knows I am related to Menmire by marriage, and the more I consider my position, the more certain I am that Menmire has let slip my subtle connivance in the death of Baenre and my support of Menmire himself. I cannot blame Menmire if he has spoken of my complicity, for few men have the strength to withstand the questions put to them by the king's executioners. I know I will crumble quickly under their tender ministrations. Userkheperure will not easily forgive what he must see as treachery so my death will not be a pleasant one.

  The question before me is this. Do I assume the king demands my presence so he can execute me, or am I worrying too much? If the former, then I either escape or die by my own hand. It would not be hard to kill myself for I have access to poisons and to weapons. A short draught of a bitter potion or a swift thrust of a sharp dagger into my throat and all my worries will be behind me. Even a noose in the privacy of my own chambers. I am not a Kemetu such that I would fear the judgement of the gods, but an Amorite who knows that the gods do not frown on a death by one's own hand. Doubt stayed my hand though, and I embarked on the royal barge. There would be time enough when we get to Waset, for my dagger remained undiscovered...

  * * *

  I remember little of my voyage upriver though I expected it to be my last. I cannot remember my thoughts at all, only scenes that passed before my eyes. I sat in the prow and watched the dark green waters cleave into white foam, the sunlight dancing and shaking on the expanse, reed beds and lilies sliding past, pehe-mau snorting and blowing in the shallows, crocodiles disturbing the water with only their snouts showing and a ripple behind where their powerful tails sweep. Birds wheeled above me in the bright blue firmament with the sun-god Re baking my body despite the sunshade of an awning spread for my enjoyment and the cool following breeze. I saw men fishing from the banks or from small boats, casting nets and hauling them aboard filled with silvery fish. Men tended herds of cattle or farmed the verdant pastures where the life-giving waters sustained the crops. Villages slipped past, the smoke of their cooking fires tainting the crystal air and awakening hungers in my belly and in my heart. Truly the land of Kemet, the black-soiled land along the valley of Iteru, was blessed by the gods. Visions of burgeoning life, the sounds of the peasants carried across the water to my ears and the odours of farming all fanned in my heart a desire to live.

  What would I not give to wander this land without thought of position or power, without wealth or even where my next meal was coming from, if only I could look upon such beauty forever? I took out my dagger and looked at it. The blade shone in the sunlight, but the fruit of that blade was darkness and dust, a whispering of my spirit in the underworld far from the light of day. It could spare me pain and ignominy, but was the price worth it if I wandered forever in the land of shadows? Better to live a little longer and die knowing that every day I staved off death brought me a little more joy. And who knows? Maybe the king would let me live and I could see the day when my nephew Siptah became a man and took up whatever task the king allowed him.

  Without further thought, I drew back my hand and flung my sharp dagger into the river. It tumbled over and over, the blade reflecting back the sunlight as if it was ablaze with fire and then plunging into the cool depths of the water with a splash. A nearby flock of ducks took to the air in an explosion of wings and the captain of the barge looked round, startled. He saw nothing amiss, and greeted me warmly, deferring to my position and offering wine and honey cakes. My melancholy had disappeared with my dagger and I accepted his invitation gladly, sitting on the foredeck an
d drinking wine, eating honey cakes and dates, and conversing on recent events.

  * * *

  We arrived in Waset, a city that still bore the scars of war. The people were silent, gaunt, with haunted eyes, and the children begged with outstretched hands rather than playing in the streets. I marched with my guard up to the palace, holding my fear in check, determined that I would face the king proudly.

  Userkheperure Seti awaited me in the formal throne room and I advanced with downcast eyes before first bowing, and then lowering myself to the ground. I lay on the cool tiles and uttered the usual phrases of praise, and more begging forgiveness for my supposed transgressions.

  "What is this, Chancellor Bay?" the king said, and I thought I detected surprise in his voice. "Arise and greet me, faithful servant."

  My breath caught in my throat and warmth flooded my body as I realised I had worried without cause. I rose to my knees and then to my feet, whereupon Userkheperure came down from the throne and embraced me.

  "I have looked for you these many days, my friend," Userkheperure said. "As you see, I have conquered at last, but I need help in ministering to the southern kingdom. Will you help me bring Waset and Ta Shemau back into the fold?"

  What could I do except offer my assent? I was high in the king's esteem and could perhaps use my position to secure the future of Siptah. A look of pain crossed the king's face and I saw that he favoured his left arm, a stain discolouring the sleeve of his tunic. "Son of Re," I said. "You are hurt?"

  The king lifted his sleeve, revealing a long gouge in the flesh that wept pus. "It is nothing...or at least next to nothing. My brother sought to kill me with a kitchen knife. The wound to my chest has already healed and no doubt this scratch will soon follow."

  "I will talk to Anupemheb, the court physician."

  The king shook his head. "There is no need. You will have more important things to do."

  Chapter 44

  Year 6 of Userkheperure Seti

  The population of Waset hurried to distance itself from the former King of the South and the many nobles and officials of the city abased themselves and pointed fingers at their fellows, accusing them of being traitors while only they had remained loyal. Seti listened and held his own counsel, while a scribe made a note of all their names.