by Max Overton
Iurudef shook his head. "Evidently nothing of great interest. I was merely talking about the preparedness of the northern legions. It is only a matter of time before the Sea Peoples test our resolve again. A change of kings is ever an unsettling time."
"The changeover is going to be a smooth transition," Hori said. "The old king is dead and we have a new one ready to be crowned. Nothing unsettling about it."
"You can't possibly imagine it will be as simple as that," Besenmut said. "The boy's father ripped the kingdoms apart. People will remember that and look for the son to repeat his actions."
"There is no reason for him to do so," Hori replied. "Siptah will be king of both kingdoms, so who will oppose him? You? You spoke against him in Council."
"I spoke for the son of the true king," Besenmut said with some heat. "But the Council decided and I will abide by the decision."
"Good. It gladdens me that some Commanders, at least, know where their duty lies. That one..." Hori glanced toward Ament and the others turned to look. "That one took it upon himself to have Menmire...Messuwy killed. Do you think he will be any less hostile to his son?"
"He's a good man and an able commander," Iurudef said. "Also, he's a confidant of the Queen. She has agreed to Siptah's accession, so he'll follow along, I'm sure."
"Meanwhile, she rules as regent," Hori went on. "And what happens if the unthinkable happens and Siptah dies? The only other choice is her son Seti-Merenptah. In effect, she becomes king."
"A woman as king?" Besenmut asked. He looked uneasy. "That couldn't happen, could it?"
"It is not unheard of. Maatkare Hatshepsut most recently, but Merneith and Sobek-kare Sobekneferu before her."
"I've never heard of those others."
"It doesn't matter," Hori said. "The point is that women have been king before, and I think Tausret would grasp the throne with both hands if the opportunity presented itself."
"Or maybe create the opportunity," Iurudef murmured.
"Precisely."
"I think you tread a dangerous path, Tjaty Hori," Besenmut said. "You put yourself in opposition to Queen Tausret, who as regent holds the power of the kingdoms in her hands. It would be a small matter for her to strip you of your office and consign you to a prison cell or worse."
"I am completely loyal to king and regent," Hori declared. "Do not confuse my musings with actions, Besenmut. Your position is a lot more precarious."
"The position of Legion Commander is within my purview," Iurudef noted. "I make and break commanders."
Besenmut bowed stiffly. "Then you must do as you see fit, General, and no doubt you will break Ament and other loyal commanders at the same time." He made as if to leave and then turned back to face the senior officer. "It seems that troubled times have returned to us already, and the king not even crowned yet."
Hori glanced at Iurudef. "Calm down, Besenmut," he said. "Nobody said anything about replacing you or any other commander. I know you are loyal and would have you by my side under any circumstance."
Besenmut bowed again, but made no further move to leave.
"I would replace Ament," Iurudef said. "He has shown himself dangerous already and will no doubt act in the Queen's interest again."
"Is that necessarily a bad thing?" Besenmut asked. "She is the queen after all."
"As long as she does not covet a higher office. If she stretches out her hand for the throne, then she will set her dog on it."
"Then remove him, General, if commanders are yours to make or break."
"Ament is perhaps an exception. He rises and falls on the whim of the king and queen."
"Then you need a more permanent solution," Hori said quietly. "One that can't be countermanded."
"And there you have it," Besenmut observed. "The times of trouble are upon us once more, when men are struck down on a whim and no one is safe. Is there no answer that does not involve murder and violence?"
"As long as there are two contenders for the throne, there will be dissension," Hori said. "We had Userkheperure and Menmire, now we have Seti-Merenptah and Siptah."
"And the queen presiding over it all."
"There must be another solution," Besenmut muttered. He was prevented from exploring the possibilities by a cry from one of the helmsmen on the great steering oars.
***
"There lies Iunu, Captain."
The barge captain hurried to the side to watch as the sacred temples slowly swam into view, where Queen Tausret joined him, holding little Seti-Merenptah in her arms. The oarsmen redoubled their efforts now that their first destination was in sight, and within a hand span of time, the craft was nosing into the city docks.
Crowds had gathered to welcome their young king, and priests from every temple of the Nine were on hand, dressed according to the precepts of each god and goddess, and a host of acolytes blew rams' horns, shook sistra, blew on flutes, plucked on harps, and clashed cymbals. The eruption of noise disturbed flocks of wildfowl on the river and nearby farm animals brayed and bellowed as if taking part in the welcome.
Loud as the temple music was, the cries of the populace drowned them out when they caught sight of the young king in the bow of the barge. The cheering faltered a little as he limped down the deck toward the gangplank, and some murmuring started, quickly quashed as the temple guards laid about them with staves. Tausret led the royal party to greet the high priests and the Governor of the Heq-At sepat. The latter gave the official welcome, waxing lyrical as he offered up a host of honorifics in praise of Queen, King and Crown Prince, before finishing on a more intimate note.
"You will, of course, be my guests in my Residence here in the Place of Pillars. I, and the Hem-netjer of Atum, have arranged the details for the coronation tomorrow."
"Thank you, Governor Puyemra, Hem-netjer Nefertem," Tausret said. "It is fitting that the Nine of Iunu are the first to acclaim the new king."
The coronation at Waset would be the main one, it had been decided, as Siptah derived from a southern family, and the support of Amun would be needed if the Two Kingdoms were to be fully united once more. Ceremonies in the other cities of Ta Mehu and Ta Shemau would be considerable less elaborate and would consist mainly of showing the king to his subjects and having the priests endorse him. Tausret was determined that this would also be an opportunity to let the people see Seti-Merenptah--the true successor to Userkheperure Seti.
The next morning, Siptah stood at the start of the spiral road of temples dedicated to the Nine, clad only in a short, white kilt and plain reed sandals. His withered left leg was hitched up, his toes the only part touching the ground. He looked lost and afraid, a ten year old boy lately just a palace child and now thrust mercilessly into kingship. His fear was not even private, as a host of onlookers watched to see how he would behave.
A horn sounded and Siptah looked across to where Tausret and Bay smiled encouragingly, before limping slowly up the spiral road. As he came to each temple, the priests emerged and greeted him, sprinkling him with sacred water and blowing heavy smoke of incense over him. The priestesses of Nebt-Het passed him on to those of Auset, and those to the priests of Heru, of Set, of Asar, and so up the spiral past the temples of Nut, Geb, Tefnut and Shu, where each high priest offered up blessings from their own god or goddess.
At the culmination of the spiral, at the highest point of the low sacred mound, he came to the Great Temple of Atum, the Creator God. Here Nefertem greeted him, but instead of sprinkling him with sacred water or blowing smoke over him, the Hem-netjer led him inside the shadowy temple, passing through the columned forecourts and halls into the dimly lit precinct of the god himself. They stopped at a small inner chamber into which the only light fell was from the open cedar doors. Siptah peered inside, afraid but curious, but could see nothing.
"Are you prepared to meet the god, Sekhaienre?"
"In...in there?" Siptah stared into the darkened room.
"The god dwells in the sacred mound, the ben-ben. In the beginning were just Nu, the primordial
waters, and then Atum the Creator caused the ben-ben to rise from the waters to provide a place for the god to rest. Inside that room is the original ben-ben, and the god resides within it."
"Must I go in there?" Siptah quavered.
"If you want to be king, you must. Before the gods can welcome a new king as god-on-earth, they must meet him." Nefertem smiled and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Enter, Sekhaienre. The god will look kindly on the pure of heart."
The Hem-netjer pushed him gently toward the entrance and Siptah lurched forward, across the threshold, his shadow preceding him into the gloom. The door swung shut and Siptah cried out in fright as blackness rushed over him. Then silence. Siptah stood shivering, staring wildly into the darkness, imagining all sorts of gods, demons or beasts creeping up on him, but after a little while, when nothing happened, he grew calmer.
"It's just a test," he whispered. "Locking me in a dark room. They'll come a let me out in a bit and ask me if I've seen the god."
The silence and darkness dragged on, and Siptah wondered what he ought to say when they let him out. "Does the priest know if the god visits me? If I say he has, he might know I'm lying, but if I say he hasn't, they might not let me be king."
The silence grew and with it a feeling of oppression, as if a great weight was settling on the temple roof. Siptah gulped, wondering if this was the presence of the god. A glimmer of light appeared in the darkness, faint and flickering so as to make the boy doubt it was really there. A gentle susurration whispered about him, a faint breeze that stirred the fabric of his kilt for a moment before dying away.
The light grew stronger and illuminated the tip of a steep-sided pyramid of dark granite. Within the glow, Siptah saw the figure of a seated man and trembled, for this was surely the god himself. Kingly he appeared, crowned with Pasekhemty, the combined red and white crowns of the Two Kingdoms. The heka and nekhakha of his authority were held in hands crossed on the figure's chest, and Siptah saw the nekhakha tremble slightly. This faint movement was the only sign that this was a living man rather than a statue or a perfect god.
"Welcome, Sekhaienre Siptah." A voice, deep but hollow as if issuing from a tomb rather than flesh and blood lungs and throat, shivered in the still air.
"I...I hear you, m...mighty king, lord of creation," Siptah stuttered, bowing and making a sign of obeisance.
"Rule wisely in the time you are given, Sekhaienre Siptah."
The glow at the top of the pyramid started to fade and within the space of ten breaths, the chamber was once more in darkness, the only sound being the rasping breath of a small boy. Shortly thereafter, the cedar doors behind him creaked open, letting in a shaft of light, and Nefertem appeared.
"Did the god appear to you, Sekhaienre?"
Siptah wondered if the priest had played the part of the god, but could not detect any similarity between Nefertem's rather ordinary voice and the sepulchral tones of the god. "Yes, he did. He told me to rule wisely."
"Then the god has accepted you, King Sekhaienre. Come out now from the precinct of the god and show yourself to the people."
The sunlight dazzled Siptah as he came out into the forecourt of the temple and he stood with a hand shading his eyes as the people of Iunu, commoners and nobles alike, applauded and cheered their new king. Tausret and Bay guided him back down the spiral road and into the Governor's residence, where he was offered refreshment--milk and honey cakes.
"I'm king now, aren't I?" he asked.
"Not yet," Tausret said. "First you must open the old king's mouth and then be formally crowned in Waset."
Bay saw the look of disappointment on the boy's face and put his arm around his nephew. "If the god accepted you, then yes, you are king," he said. "The rest is just formality."
Chapter 6
Year 1 of Sekhaienre Ramesses-Siptah
The royal progress continued on through the lush farmlands of Ta Mehu. From Iunu, the barge made its way down to Per-Ramesses, where the coronation ceremonies and presentation to the common people was played out again, though here the Temple of Re was the main host. Upriver the barge went, moving between the branches of the Great River and delivering the players of the kingly drama to the cities of Per-Bast, Khem, Imu, Sau, Per-Wadjet, Djedu and Perire, before making a brief stopover back at the capital city of Men-nefer.
"Is it over?" Siptah asked. "I'm tired of going from city to city and temple to temple. I want my own bed and my toys."
"You are no longer a child," Tausret snapped. "Behave like the king you hope to become. Show yourself to your people and stop complaining." She relented as his eyes filled with tears. "Go and play now, Siptah. We leave for the south in two days where we will bury King Userkheperure and make you king in his place. You'll like that, won't you?"
"Then nobody will be able to tell me what to do," Siptah muttered as he slouched off.
***
Two days later, the royal barge set off again, this time forging upriver with the northerly winds filling their sail. The oarsmen had less to occupy them most days, only manning the oars when the wind fell, or the barge was eased into city docks along the way. Henen-nesut, Khmun and Zawty praised their new young king and lifted their voices in joyous cries, but the cities of Tjenu, Abdju, Iunet and Gebtu murmured when Siptah appeared staring sullenly at Tausret and the soldiers of the northern legions.
Khent-min was where Siptah had spent his early years and many people knew of him or had known Messuwy when he had retired there between being relieved of his position of King's Son of Kush, and grasping the reins of power as Menmire Amenmesse. The populace turned out to stare with curiosity at the child now elevated to the throne of his father, and at the widow of the king who had brought such ruin down on Ta Shemau--for that is how many people understood the recent internecine conflict that had ravaged the kingdoms.
The barge passed Waset by to visit the southern cities of Ta-senet, Behdet, and Nekhen City of Hawks. People crowded the walls of Amun's City as the barge thrashed its way upriver, the wind having failed half a day before. The banks of the river were also thronged with peasants and farmers, the inhabitants of any village or town within a day's travel making their way to the water's edge to see their young king.
A few days later, the barge returned to Waset and disgorged the royal party. The northern Tjaty, Hori, had been left behind in Men-nefer to govern Ta Mehu, and Tjaty Paraemheb joined them now. They stayed in the old eastern palace in the main city, resting until that evening when the burial ceremonies would commence.
The body of the dead king had been brought to Waset ten days before and lay in the Mansion of Millions of Years dedicated to King Userkheperure Seti on the west bank. Now, as the royal party boarded the barge once more and cast off, being carried swiftly across the river in the twilight, the body of the king in its heavy gilded sarcophagus was loaded onto the funerary sledge, and teams of oxen hitched to it. Chariots brought the Queen and boy-king to the funerary temple, but here they dismounted and would walk beside the sledge all the way to the tomb and back. The dust and discomfort was part of their sacrifice to the memory of the king.
The funeral party set off, along the road that lead to the Place of Truth, where some of the tomb workers joined the procession, and on through the sand and loose rubble into Ta-sekhet-ma'at and the waiting tomb. Howls of wolves shattered the silence of the night as they entered the valley, their wailing cries calling to Anapa, the wolf-headed god of death. The procession became slower as they moved deeper into the dry valleys, the runners of the heavy sledge grinding the rubble beneath its weight, while the chill of the desert night sucked the sun's heat from the rocks.
Priests of Amun led the funeral party, wearing their ceremonial white robes with leopard-skin capes draped over their shoulders. They carried pottery lamps with twisted flax fibres in pools of fine oil casting a reddish flickering light over the proceedings. Acolytes trudged beside the priests, carrying spare oil in jars, replacement wicks, and a host of other paraphernalia that wo
uld be required within the tomb. Behind the priests walked Tausret and Siptah, holding hands, and with them were Chancellor Bay, Tjaty Paraemheb, General Setnakhte, Commander Samut, Commander Panhesy, and numerous minor officials of the Waset court.
Bringing up the rear of the burial party, treading in the dust and ground rubble of the sledge, were the Servants of the Place of Truth and a number of slaves to take care of the lifting of the heavy sarcophagus and carrying it into the rock-cut tomb. Guards followed, loyal soldiers of the Amun and Mut legions mostly, but also aides from the northern legions acting as witnesses to the entombment of the dead king.
Other eyes watched the funeral procession. Above, on the top of the cliffs surrounding the burial valleys, men watched whose hearts were filled with avarice, and minds with the thirst for the gold that was soon to be sealed within the rock tomb. When the funeral party had left, and the fervour of the guards had faded into boredom, they would descend to the valley floor and see if there was a way to break into the tomb and rob the dead. The penalties for robbing tombs were horrific, but some judged the rewards worth the risk.
The procession arrived at the tomb--three tombs in fact. One was the one excavated for Userkheperure Seti, another for Queen Tausret, and the third for Chancellor Bay. Only Tausret's tomb was even approaching completion, and it was from its rock-cut depths that golden light spilled out into the valley. The body of Userkheperure would be buried here until his own tomb was ready to receive him. Soldiers spread out to guard the surroundings, while the slaves wrestled the heavy sarcophagus off the sledge. The Servants of the Place of Truth hurried underground to make sure everything was in readiness for the burial. Priests of Amun blessed the sarcophagus, uttering the first of hundreds of prayers that would din the ears of the gods, while the acolytes set up the Ka statue of the dead king, even as the sarcophagus was slowly lowered into the first corridor of the tomb.
"Are you ready to perform the Opening of the Mouth, Siptah?" Tausret asked.
