by Max Overton
Perhaps I arose too quickly. My Ka was willing but my Khat was still weak and my arm still pained me. Sweat beaded my brow and the pulse raced in my temples, but I willed myself to stand as if nothing was wrong. I managed to show myself at the Window of Appearances so that the people would know they still had a king, but afterward, I was quite exhausted. Still, I was determined to continue my life. I sent for my Tjaty and General Iurudef, and learned of the depredations the Sea Peoples were making on our northern borders.
No matter what span of life was still allotted to me, no king of Kemet could stand idly by and allow these foreign incursions, so I bundled Iurudef off with instructions to gather the legions in preparation of a major offensive. I would drive the Sea Peoples back inside their cities at the very least.
Then I went to where my beloved Tausret played with my infant son and sat with her, greedy for her company, and enjoying the sights and sounds, the remembered feel and familiar aromas of her lovely body. Seti-Merenptah is a strong and lively little boy, already making attempts to stand upon his own two feet and the firmness of his grasp on my extended finger is amazing for one so young. I can see the strength of the king he will one day become, and know that Kemet is in good hands. If the gods call me home soon, I know my queen will guard him and set him upon the Double Throne in due course. She has good counsellors,Tjaty Hori and Chancellor Bay, to call upon, and strong well-trained legions to guard against unrest. Truly, now that the threat of my brother has been put to rest, the security of my kingdom is assured.
Chapter 49
Year 6 of Userkheperure Seti
Late in the final month of Akhet, the inundation, when the water was receding from the flooded fields, leaving rich black silt spread over the land, Userkheperure Seti took a ferry over the still swollen river to the eastern bank. There, at the head of a small squadron of chariots, he drove north and east along the royal road to join his legions for the coming war.
Seti chose not to drive his own chariot as his arm was hurting him again. The arm throbbed and felt hot and, despite being packed with fresh, cool black silt from the heart of Ta Mehu, showed livid red streaks ascending up to the shoulder. He hung on to the wicker frame of the war chariot with his right hand and tried not to sway against the body of the charioteer with his left. His head was hot, he sweated profusely despite the coolness of the day, and his pulse hammered in his temples.
He broke his journey regularly, despite the need to join up with his legions, as he just felt too unwell to put in a full day's travel. As camp was set up each day, Seti took himself down to the muddy edge of the river, stripped off his bandages and bathed the swollen blistered flesh of his left arm. For two or three days, nobody dared comment on the king's condition, despite the obvious pain he was in, but eventually his charioteer ventured an opinion.
"Forgive my presumption, Son of Re, but your wound needs the attention of a physician...or a priest," he added.
Seti grimaced and swayed where he stood. "We will stop at Iunu. There are physicians and priests aplenty there."
The king's charioteer took it upon himself to dispatch a chariot ahead of the squadron to alert the authorities in Iunu of the king's arrival and of his condition. After a few moments' consideration, he also sent one back to Men-nefer to carry the word to the queen.
The priests of the numerous temples in Iunu were waiting for the king and ushered him into the temple of Atum, the creator god, where the most experienced physicians were on hand. They almost had to carry the king from the chariot to the temple, and laid him on a bed covered with clean linen for the examination. Normally circumspect in their speech, especially in front of an exalted patient, the physicians and priests discussed the course of the king's affliction.
"The flesh rots. You can smell it from ten paces."
"You can hear it too. The flesh crackles like a fire through dry reeds when you press the swollen flesh."
"Indeed, a fire burns within him..."
"...and it will consume him unless it is doused."
"What can be done?"
"The black earth cure has not worked."
"Or rather, the blackness has passed into his flesh and wars with the redness within, threatening to carry life away before it like the inundation."
"The time for such remedies has passed."
"Could the arm, containing the blackness and redness within, be cut off?"
"He would never survive the operation."
"And if he did, he would be a crippled king."
"What say the Nine of Iunu? Will you speak for them, Hem-netjer of Atum?"
The high priest of Atum, clad in all his ceremonial regalia, stood over the supine king and looked down, compassion in his eyes. "All things pass," he said. "The gods set out a span of life for every man and it avails nothing to fight against what the gods have ordained."
"The king is scarce of middle age," protested one of the younger physicians. "Can nothing be done?"
"Prayers will be offered up for the life and health of the king," the Hem-netjer of Atum said. "But prayers are only the words of men and though they beat about the heads of the gods like bats on a summer night, the gods answer only to their will."
Seti's eyelids fluttered open and he looked up at the gathered physicians and priests. He licked his lips and attempted a smile. "Am I dying?" he asked.
None of the physicians could meet the king's gaze, or any priest save that of Atum. He smiled down on the fevered man on the bed and said, "It is likely, Son of Re."
"How long?"
"Who can say? That is with the gods."
"Is my beloved...is the Queen here?"
The king's charioteer stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Queen Tausret has been sent for, Son of Re."
A pained smile crossed the king's face. "Really?" he whispered. "I did not think I would ever meet a man who could 'send for' the queen and live."
The charioteer flushed deeply and stammered. "M...my apol...apologies, Son of Re. I meant to say she has been...been notified."
Seti lay in silence for a time. The rays of sunlight cast golden patches on the floor and walls of the chamber and slowly moved as the face of Re ascended and then began its slow descent to the west. The senior physicians drifted away, telling each other that nothing could be done. A junior apprentice bathed the king's face with a cool, damp cloth, and the Hem-netjer of Atum sent the other priests away, but stayed himself.
"Pray she comes soon," Seti muttered, "for I feel the wings of death beating me about my face."
"Is there a message I should give her if she does not?" the priest asked. "It is a long way to Men-nefer and back."
"Tell her I love her...and my infant son..."
"All of Kemet knows that," the priest said with a smile.
Seti shook his head weakly. "It is as the gods said, but I wish I could have lived to see my son ready to sit upon the throne."
"Be strong, Son of Re. The queen will come swiftly when she hears the news. You may yet gaze upon her once more."
Shadow fell upon the chamber as the sun sank and passed below the western horizon. The king's breathing became hoarse as he struggled against the rotting blackness that now claimed his whole left arm and was starting to invade his chest. Torches were sent for and flickering light and shadow replaced the warmth of the day. As the night chill crept into the chamber, a fleece was brought for the king and tucked around his shivering form. Seti moaned as it was set about him and pushed it away with his good arm.
The torches burned low and were replaced. Another young physician took the place of an exhausted one and kept the king comfortable, but the priest remained standing beside the bed through the long night, counting the seconds between each ragged indrawn breath and watching the king's life soak away like water in sand.
At cockcrow the king rallied, opening his eyes and making a weak movement with the fingers of his right hand. The priest brought him water in a simple wooden cup and held his arm beneath the king's burning head a
s he sipped cool river water. As the dawn lit the room with a faint rosy glow, the priest saw that the blackness had spread onto the king's chest and neck. The bed linen was soaked with watery blood and stank of rottenness.
"Tausret..." Seti breathed. "Is she...?"
"She is coming, Son of Re, but I think not quickly enough. If you have words for her, you must tell me."
* * *
The queen came with the noonday heat, windblown and covered in dust, the horses that drew her chariot soaked with sweat and staggering in their traces. Far behind her, the two-man chariots of her escort laboured toward the city and the outlying spiral of temples dedicated to the Nine of Iunu.
Tausret leapt from the chariot and strode to the tall figure of the Hem-netjer of Atum where he stood in the inky shade of the great temple.
"Where is he? Take me to him. Quickly."
"There is no hurry, Great Lady. The king has passed beyond the cognisance of men."
A soft moan escaped Tausret's lips and for a moment she clutched at the priest's arm for support. Then she straightened and her eyes no more than glistened with tears held rigidly in check.
"Take me to him," she commanded.
The priest led her to the inner chamber where the king's body now lay on pristine linen sheets. Incense burned in braziers, filling the room with a sweet smell that could not quite cover the stench of rotting flesh. Tausret's lips thinned when she entered the room and her eyes now glittered with anger.
"How long has the king lain in death? Why have the embalmers not taken him, for already the stink of death is upon him."
"Not so, Great Lady, for what you smell is the stink of his last illness. He died but a sun's finger width before you arrived, calling upon you with his last breath. The embalmers are on their way here even as we speak."
Tausret wept at the news, her slim body shaking with grief, but then she brushed her tears away with her hands, and with a visible effort composed herself. "Send the embalmers back then, priest of Atum, and have a swift boat prepared. I will carry the body of my husband the king back to Men-nefer where he shall lie in dignity in the Place of Purification."
"He would be treated with respect here in Iunu, Great Lady. There is no need..."
"I will take him to Men-nefer where he belongs, priest. Now find me that boat."
Swiftly a boat was found, a fishing boat rather than a barge, because Tausret could not wait for one to be brought from Men-nefer. Instead, she oversaw the loading of the king's body upon the deck. She allowed the embalmers to pack the body about with spices and incense, for already the corpse was bloating and the rotting flesh of the arm and chest gave off a stench that appalled any who came too close. Tausret sailed not long after the sun's zenith, with two companion guards and the owner of the boat who had been paid in fine gold to sail his vessel.
Tausret sat beside the body of her husband all the way to Men-nefer, and paid no heed to the stench that surrounded her and blew with them on the light northerly wind that sped the boat up the river. From time to time, the guards and the boat owner surreptitiously vomited over the side, seeking to hide the disrespect to the king's person implicit in their actions.
And so they came to white-walled Men-nefer as the dawn broke the next day, having sailed by moon and starlight through the night. The city was in mourning, with every colourful banner removed and black banners mixed with red in honour of the god Set and Seti the king named for him. The boat pulled up to the royal wharf and willing hands conveyed the king's body onto a bier. Faces smeared with river mud turned to follow the passage of their king and a great wailing arose from the population as the procession wound its way through the streets to the Place of Purification and the waiting embalmers.
Tausret spoke with the Head Embalmer as Seti's body was hurried off to be packed in natron. She gave simple instructions that he was to be treated as a king.
"Of course, Great Lady, that goes without saying, but..." The embalmer's voice trailed off and he licked his lips.
"But?"
"Great Lady, the body stinks already. Was nothing done to preserve it?"
"The stink is of the king's last illness, though it has been nearly a day since he died. Do your best, your very best. Spare no expense."
"I shall work on the body myself, Great Lady."
Tausret nodded and left the man to his task in the Place of Purification. She returned to the palace and started through to her rooms, waving away her companions. Tjaty Hori bustled up, as did Chancellor Bay, their faces carefully set in expressions of horror and grief.
"Great Lady," Hori said. "Even in these grievous times, we must make provision for proper governance. Shall I take charge?"
Anger flitted across the queen's face, swiftly extinguished. "Thank you, Hori. Take care of the day-to-day business of Men-nefer and Ta Mehu, as is your purview. Chancellor Bay, I want you to send out fast messengers to General Iurudef in the north and General Setnakhte in the south. I want them here in Men-nefer just as soon as they can manage."
"Yes, Great Lady," Bay said. "With how many legions?"
"No legions; just them. I want them here quickly and without fuss. There are decisions to be made."
"My Lady," Hori said hesitantly. "Only the king can order the generals away from their stations."
"The king is dead..."
"Yes, Lady, but..."
"...and I act in his name. Until my son Seti-Merenptah is crowned king over Kemet, I am the Regent. Do you dispute it?"
Hori glanced at Bay and saw his non-committal expression. He swallowed and bowed. "No, Great Lady."
"Then do as I command, both of you."
Tausret turned on her heel and strode quickly for her suite of rooms, dismissing her servants and shutting herself in her bedchamber. There, out of sight of all eyes but those of the gods, she gave vent to her grief, crying aloud and tearing at her dust-stained and grimy clothing.
Chapter 50
Tausret speaks:
For ten days I gave in to grief. Tjaty Hori governed the north and Tjaty Paraemheb the south while I mourned the loss of my beloved. We are taught that all things happen by the will of the gods, but I asked them loudly and with many tears how Kemet was served by snatching my Seti away at such a young age. He was a good king and would have achieved more than the records of the temples attest had not his brother absorbed most of his energy. His death was down to his brother too, and for that I would not forgive him.
So grief occupied my days as I wept within my rooms, my only companions being my women and my dear son, my husband's only living legacy. Tjaty Hori called upon me several times, but each time I sent him away, saying I could not yet face the world. The city mourned with me, the usual bustle and noise of commerce and daily life being muted, but gradually the exigencies of life intruded on the common people and by degrees invaded my privacy. One day, I knew that my period of grief had come to an end. I would have to face the world again and rule Kemet in my husband's place. Decisions had to be made, and I would have to be the one to make them.
Five days had passed from my commands being sent out to the arrival of General Iurudef from the northern borders and five more before a boat arrived from Waset. Hori came to my chambers again on the eleventh day to tell me that my presence was needed and I was ready for him, bathed and dressed in my queenly finery.
General Iurudef bowed low when I entered the throne room and I bade him rise before turning to the man standing beside him. I was taken aback to find it was not General Setnakhte but rather Deputy Commander of the Amun Legion, Ament.
"I had not thought to see you here, Ament, though you are welcome," I said as he came forward and bowed in his turn. "Where is Setnakhte?"
"He is indisposed, Great Lady," Ament replied. "He bade me come in his stead."
"Does he not realise how important this meeting is?"
"I think he knows only too well," Chancellor Bay said quietly. "And that is the reason he sends another in his place."
"What
do you mean?"
"Only that the succession must be decided, and Setnakhte is a son of Usermaatre, though with a lowly concubine."
"He has designs on the throne?" Iurudef asked, shock showing in his face. "How dare he?"
Bay shrugged. "His claim is weak while Userkheperure's son lives, but if his direct line was to die out, some would support him. I do not call him disloyal, but he would not favour the only other contender for the throne, Userkheperure's nephew Siptah, and so he absents himself lest he be forced to declare himself against Siptah."
"Siptah?" I said. "He is a good boy but crippled and sickly; hardly kingly material. Besides, he is son of that traitor Messuwy, and I will not countenance that man's offspring on the throne."
"I do not put him forward, Great Lady, for that would be presumptuous. It is not my place to argue for him, but I remind you all that Userkheperure Seti specifically absolved the boy from any of the blame of his father's actions," Bay said.
"And the fact that he is the son of your sister Suterere has nothing to do with it," Iurudef said.
"I would not put my family's interests ahead of Kemet's."
"How selfless," Iurudef said dryly. "And I don't believe it for a second."
"Enough of this senseless bickering," I exclaimed. "My son by the king, Seti-Merenptah, is the heir, and that is the only consideration."
"Your son is only a baby, Great Lady," Hori said. "He cannot possibly rule."
"Obviously not," I replied. "That is why I shall rule in his stead, as regent, until he comes of age."
The two military men nodded their assent, and Bay kept his face expressionless at my words, which surprised me, for I thought I knew his heart. What surprised me more was Hori's objection.
