Fall of the House of Ramesses, Book 3: Tausret

by Max Overton

  "And this was how long ago?" Siptah asked.

  "Day and an half, majesty."

  "So they could have left already."

  "I had a local herdsman keep an eye on it and he sent word this morning that they are still here, majesty. They won't move now, with the heat of the day coming on."

  Siptah nodded and looked at the boulder-choked gully. "That is no place to hunt from a chariot," he said.

  "We could wait until the other huntsmen arrive and have them beat toward us, driving the lions out into the open," Mentek said. "Then we could kill them from the chariots."

  "Dangerous for the huntsmen," Raia commented.

  "I agree," Siptah said. "And cowardly to drive such royal beasts as if they were cattle. No, we shall meet them on foot. Lead on," he told the huntsmen. "Find where they are lying up."

  "Better to wait for the other huntsmen and soldiers, Son of Re," Mentek said. "There's only three of us with bows, and my spears. We might need some help."

  "You can wait here if you like," Siptah replied, "but a king does not seek safety in the face of danger. Are you with me, Raia?"

  "Of course, Son of Re. Where you lead, I will follow."

  Siptah led, but slowly, limping along with his cane in one hand and the bow and sheaf of arrows in the other. Raia and the huntsmen followed close on his heels and after a moment, Mentek joined them, looking shamefaced. They approached the boulders and the huntsman who had seen the kill the day before lightly touched the king on his arm, dropping to one knee as Siptah turned to stare in disbelief at the man who had dared to touch him.

  "Forgive me, majesty. I meant only that I should lead here as I know the way to where the bull's body lies."

  Siptah frowned, and then nodded. "What is your name?" he asked.

  "Bek, majesty."

  "Well then, Bek, you are forgiven...this time. Lead on, and find me this lion."

  "Majesty, remember there are two."

  Bek moved ahead of the others, with the other huntsman, Nehi, creeping along some twenty paces to the side. They approached the boulders in almost complete silence, and Bek looked toward Nehi, who shook his head slightly before scrambling up onto one of the huge boulders. His naked feet gripped the rough stone, propelling him rapidly to the top. He peered over the edge and then slowly withdrew, turning carefully to face Bek and the royal party. Leaning back against the rock, he gesticulated with both hands, conveying his report to the other huntsman.

  "He says the older lion is lying in the shade of a boulder about fifty paces beyond this one," Bek whispered. "He is awake but not alert."

  "Which way is he facing?" Mentek asked.

  More arm waving took place. "He faces the west."

  "What about the younger lion?" Raia asked.

  Bek waved his arms and Nehi answered in the same way.

  "He says there is no sign of it."

  "Good," Siptah whispered. "The lions have separated. We will kill the older one first and then pick up the track of the young one."

  Bek signalled again to his companion on the rock. "Nehi will wait up there and distract the lion when we are in position. He will also shout if the second lion appears."

  Siptah nodded his assent and limped off around the boulder field to the west, Mentek and Raia following close behind, Mentek with two flint-tipped spears and Raia with bow and arrows like the king. Bek carried nothing but the dagger at his belt. They rounded the large boulder and Siptah discarded his cane so he could shuffle bent double taking cover behind the lower boulders.

  Bek raised his head slowly over the rim of the boulder they all crouched behind. Hardly moving, he eased his head over the edge, paused, and lowered it again.

  "The lion faces us, Majesty," the old hunter whispered. "But his eyes open and close as if he would sleep in the heat of the day."

  Siptah nodded and took an arrow from his sheath. "If I stand up, I will have a clear view of the beast?" he asked.

  Bek hesitated. "Yes, Majesty, but it would be better if you moved to the end of this boulder and step out between it and the next one. You will have a clear view of the chest and flanks of the lion and can put an arrow into its chest, just behind its foreleg."

  "What about us?" Mentek muttered. "Where should we be?"

  "Raia can shoot over the top of the rock," Siptah said. "Mentek, stand with me and lend me your strength."

  The king limped to the end of the boulder and eased his head around the end. He saw the lion lying half on its side with its head lowered on its forepaws. It faced the king's left and its eyes were closed. Siptah felt his breath coming faster as he contemplated the great tawny beast lying not twenty paces away. He nodded to Mentek and stepped out between the boulders, one hand on the other man's arm. The lion did not move, and Siptah fitted an arrow to the string of his bow with trembling hands. He raised the bow and sighted on the lion's flank, just behind its foreleg.

  "Shoot, Majesty," Mentek breathed.

  Siptah slowly lowered his bow. "He is asleep," he whispered. "It seems shameful to kill him while he sleeps."

  He thought for a moment and then called softly, "Ho, Royal One, wake and meet your fate."

  The lion was on its feet facing Siptah even before he had finished speaking. Siptah raised his bow and released his arrow at the beast now facing him, but the arrow, aimed at the lion's left eye missed, glancing off the bone of the skull. It roared with pain and crouched, ready to spring across the intervening space and crush this thing that had hurt it.

  Then Raia loosed his arrow and missed, and Mentek fumbled his spear, taking several steps back. Bek yelled, and Nehi took up the cry, tossing pebbles from his vantage point on top of the first great boulder. The lion's head came round to search for this new threat and it half-turned, roaring its rage and defiance.

  Siptah snatched another arrow from his sheath and raised the bow in a fluid movement, targeting the now exposed flank of the great lion. The arrow sped across the short distance and thwacked into the tawny hide just behind the foreleg, burying itself deep in the beast's side. Roaring, the lion rose up on its hind legs and then collapsed onto the sand. Its paws scrabbled for a few moments and then its great shaggy head fell back and it died.

  Raia and Mentek cheered, the former leaping over the low boulder and racing across the hot sand toward the fallen beast, while Mentek strutted forward as if it had been his spear that brought down the lion instead of the king's arrow. Bek scrambled up on top of the rock but stopped when Nehi yelled. The huntsman looked toward his companion and saw his urgent gesticulations.

  "Majesty, the second lion," Bek yelled.

  The king and his two companions were in the open, in front of the slain lion, when the second, younger beast burst into view. It raced across the intervening space from where it had been lying up in the shade of another rock, and bore Raia down before the young man could even think of moving. Siptah clearly heard the man's skull crunch in the beast's jaws before it gathered itself again and leapt at him.

  Siptah stumbled back and his withered leg gave way, spilling him to the ground. At once the lion was upon him and the relief and pride he had felt at the death of the older lion evaporated like water on hot desert sand. The jaws of the younger lion closed on his left shoulder, biting deeply as his hot blood spurted. He gagged as the hot stinking breath of the beast blew into his face and dimly he felt the great claws rip into him, but pain and even fear seemed to have fled along with his pride. It was as if the lion lay on another man, worrying at him like a tabby cat in the city granaries plays with the mouse it has caught. Siptah felt as if he was dreaming; that soon he would awaken and none of this would be real.

  Voices cried out as if from a distance and a spear and then arrows flitted into view. He felt the lion's body shudder under the impact of these missiles, though the jaws only bit deeper, teeth grinding against bones. The lion growled deep in its throat, its shaggy mane brushed his face. His right hand came up and brushed the lion's flank, felt the muscles rippling beneat
h its hide and marvelled at it. Then the claws of the animal ripped his belly open and consciousness fled as pain belatedly washed over him.

  ***

  "Is he dead?" Nehi whispered.

  Bek knelt beside the torn and bloodied body of the king and laid a trembling hand on his chest, feeling for the faint movements of life within. "He lives, but I think not for long."

  "What should we do?" Nehi asked. "The king will die and it is our fault. They will execute us."

  "We cannot just leave him here." Bek looked up at Mentek. "You saw, sir. There was nothing we could have done."

  "I tried," declared the young noble. "It was my spear that killed the lion."

  "And my arrows," Bek said.

  Nehi nodded his agreement to both claims, but addressed Mentek. "You are a nobleman, sir. Tell us what we must do."

  Mentek stared at the body of his king and licked his lips, feeling resentment that such a decision should have been thrust upon him. "We...we must notify the court...and carry the body of the king back to Henen-nesut."

  "The king still lives, sir, and we cannot easily carry him," Bek said. "His intestines will...will fall out, and that will surely kill him. Besides which, there is Raia lying dead over there."

  "Forget Raia," Mentek said. "He is beyond help. We must get the king to the priests and physicians." He snapped his fingers at Nehi. "Run back and find the other huntsmen and soldiers. Tell them what has happened and bid them bring a litter." The hunter nodded and turned to go, but Mentek called him back. "The king lives, Nehi. Remember that. Do not even hint that he might die."

  While they waited for help to arrive, Mentek crossed to his friend Raia and straightened his outflung limbs, hiding the crushed skull under a cloth. Bek made the king as comfortable as he could, using some water from his flask to wash the blood from Siptah's face, and gently eased the coils of bloody purplish intestine back through the ragged rents in the young man's abdomen. He could see the life of the king slipping away, but continued to minister to him as best he could.

  The huntsmen and soldiers arrived and for several minutes the rocky space echoed with cries of grief. Mentek and Bek finally impressed on them the fact that the king was still alive and needed urgent help. Soldiers ran to prepare the physicians and priests of the city, while the huntsmen made litters out of spears and tunics and gently bore Siptah away to where the chariots waited. Mentek drove the chariot, with Bek bracing himself at his feet and holding the king's body in his arms as they sped as fast as the road would allow, back to Henen-nesut.

  The Governor and High Priest of Heryshef were appalled at the fate that had overtaken the king and conferred together as physicians and lesser priests busied themselves with their patient there in the temple forecourt. There was little they could do, but the physicians stuffed the intestines back into the belly, and the priests wrote prayers out on paper and bound them to Siptah's pale body.

  "We must send him back to Men-nefer immediately," the High Priest said.

  "Is that wise?" asked the Governor. "He could die if he is moved again."

  "Better he dies on his barge than here in Henen-nesut."

  The Governor stared at the High Priest in silence.

  "Have you any idea how inauspicious it is to have a king die within the city? Within the temple of Heryshef?"

  "Kings die all the time..."

  "Mostly from old age or sickness or from a wound inflicted by an enemy. The priests of all gods can deal with such ill luck, but to have a young king struck down in such a way...no, it is better he dies elsewhere."

  "The gods will know he as good as died here."

  The High Priest shrugged. "The gods will know we did what we could and sent him home to Men-nefer in the hopes of recovery."

  The Governor stood and looked at the torn body for a few minutes longer and then sighed. "Perhaps it would be best. Put the king on his barge and have it set sail for Men-nefer immediately. Let the gods decide his fate."

  Chapter 39

  Tausret speaks:

  I am appalled by the news, and those responsible will suffer the consequences of their negligence. It is what I thought might happen if the boy ever hunted a lion, but what could I do? He was growing into a man and a man will reach out for manly pursuits like war and hunting.

  Terribly savaged on the hunt, he was brought to Henen-nesut barely alive, and instead of treating his wounds the Governor put him on the royal barge and sent him to me. Unmoving, but still breathing, he arrived in Men-nefer, but was dead by the time he was brought to the palace.

  Yes, King Akhenre Siptah is dead on this twelfth day of the second month of Akhet in the sixth year of his reign. Once more, the land of Kemet is thrown into turmoil by the death of this last male scion of the House of Ramesses. What is to become of our beloved land? I called the King's Council immediately, and though some members could not attend--General Iurudef and General Setnakhte notable among them--enough were there to lend the proceedings legitimacy.

  "The king is dead," I told them.

  After cries and groans from all assembled, I informed them of the facts of his passing and asked for their thoughts.

  "Who is to blame?" one or two called out.

  "The huntsmen were negligent and will be dealt with," I replied.

  "Who is the heir?" Tjaty Mentu asked.

  "There is none," I said. "At least no one obvious."

  "Then we are doomed to renewed civil war," Mentu concluded.

  "Worse," Scribe Pepy said. "Then we had too many men contending for the throne. Now we have none."

  "You think we have none?" Captain of the Palace Guard Parahotep asked. "Anyone remotely related to the royal family will be eyeing their chances. There are countless grandsons and great-grandsons of Usermaatre who will now decide they have a right, if not a duty, to claim the throne. We could have a hundred armies marching and countermarching across Kemet, rending the Two Lands until nothing is left."

  "Then the answer is clear," Treasurer Huy said. "We must find a suitable candidate and present him to the people immediately."

  "Yes, but who?" Mentu asked.

  "Surely there is no great urgency," Ament said. "We have Queen Tausret as Regent already. She can continue her duties in the meantime."

  "I cannot be regent without a king," I pointed out. "I stand in for the king during his minority, but I only have temporary authority."

  "So make it permanent," Ament urged. "Rule in your own right."

  "A woman can rule as Queen alongside her husband the King," Mentu pointed out. "She can also act as Regent during the minority of the legitimate heir, but she cannot rule alone as King."

  "It has been done before," Pepy said softly. "Maatkare Hatshepsut ruled as King."

  "I do not want to be king," I said. "I had already decided to stand down and retire to my estates."

  "I fear that is no longer an option," Pepy said.

  "There are other candidates if the Queen is adamant she does not want to rule," Huy said. "Men who are descendants of Usermaatre and who are skilled in warfare."

  "I hope you are not talking about that Meryre, son of Meryatum," Tausret said with a smile.

  "Or Ramses and Meryma'at, who rebelled late in Userkheperure's reign," Ament added. "I would see them dead rather than sitting on Kemet's throne."

  "I was actually thinking of General Setnakhte," Huy said. "He's an old man, being a son of Usermaatre born late in his reign, and a proficient soldier. I don't think you could find a better candidate for the throne."

  "He was always opposed to Menmire Amenmesse and disliked his son Akhenre Siptah," Mentu said.

  "He thought of them as usurpers of the true line of kings. Would he accept the Kingdoms if offered them?" Parahotep asked.

  "There is no need to ask him," Ament declared. "We have the best possible monarch right here. Queen Tausret is daughter of Baenre Merenptah, wife of Userkheperure Seti, and was regent for Akhenre Siptah. She is royal by birth and by marriage and has experience of rul
ing. Furthermore, she has taken the field against the enemies of Kemet and prevailed. I can think of no one more suited to guide the Kingdoms through the troubled days ahead and restore Ma'at."

  "But would the people accept her?" Huy asked. "Regent is one thing as long as there is a proper king, but to accept a woman as king..."

  "Fornicate the people," Ament interrupted. "The choice of a king has never been up to the common man. A king is chosen by his predecessor or by the Council. They'll accept who we choose and there's an end to it."

  And so the Council declared that I should be king, though there were some dissenters. I was reluctant to take up the burden at first, but I accepted in the end because Kemet needs stability and as I have been all but ruling these last few years, the transition promises to be smooth.

  In fact, I am minded to count my reign from the death of my husband Seti. I have effectively ruled Kemet while waiting for the legitimate heir, our son Seti-Merenptah, to reach his majority, so why should I not just continue my rule? The reign of Siptah will disappear, and this year, the sixth of that unhappy boy, will become my sixth regnal year. It is fitting that the troubles of the last few years are finally put to rest.

  I will be king in my own right, and I must select a suitable coronation name. Titles have been showered upon me - Hereditary Princess, Great of Praises, Lady Sweet of Love, Mistress of Ta Mehu and Ta Shemau, King's Great Wife, Lady of the Two Lands, God's Wife of Amun--but I need strong throne names too, that tie me in to the gods I will need to hold the people. In particular, I need to take hold of the south where Amun is strong, but I can forego Ptah--he will understand--and Set is not for me.

  I shall be Sitre Meryamun Tausret Setepenmut--Daughter of Re, beloved of Amun, Mighty Lady, chosen of Mut.

  Chapter 40

  Year 1 (6) Sitre Meryamun Tausret

  Tausret, along with many of the nobles and court officials, made the journey upriver in the middle of the fourth month of Akhet. The flood was dying down by then and a stiff northerly breeze helped the barge on its way. The body of Siptah lay in state on the deck, shaded by an awning and encased in a richly worked gilded sarcophagus. Other shells were being prepared in the Mansion of Millions of Years dedicated to Tausret and would enclose the king's inner sarcophagus when the time came for the burial.