by Max Overton
And so it was. The loyal legions dug in across the western road north, digging chariot traps and earthen barricades, but not offering battle. Setnakhte's legions looked discomforted by the presence of Ament's army but also made no effort to attack. Their only response was to move the Amun and Re legions to face the dug in legions, and then sit and wait them out.
Chapter 51
Year 3 (8) Sitre Meryamun Tausret
Months passed with the war in Ta Mehu unresolved. Neither side felt itself strong enough to push for a resolution to the impasse, and each seemed content to wait upon the will of the gods. Ament's legions effectively cut off the northern road and the farmland in those sepats, while Setnakhte's army still controlled the city of Men-nefer and the southern farms. Both armies had enough to eat, though the peasant farmers suffered as a result; and the population of the city slowly starved. Grain stores ran low, every animal down to the rats and mice that pillaged those stores and every available scrap of greenery had been eaten, and the supply of river fish that could be brought into the city was limited by the blockading fleet.
Then the flood came, marked by a slow but steady creep of water up over the banks of the river, spreading out over the flat farmland and bringing with it discomfort and disease. The blockading fleet found it harder to maintain station in the swifter, muddier current, and a few brave souls put out from the city in fishing boats and brought in masses of fish to alleviate the hunger of the population.
Ament took advantage of the creeping sheet of water spreading over the land to make an unseen visit to the city. The water along the former shore moved slowly and sometimes eddies moved counter to the direction of the river's flow, so by night he slipped into the water and made it back to the city wharves unchallenged.
Tausret was overjoyed to see Ament again, and forgetting all protocol and dignity, threw herself at him with cries of joy. She dismissed her attendants and poured wine for him, feeding him morsels with her own hand, before embracing him once more and leading him to her bed.
"You are back to stay, beloved?" Tausret asked afterward, her head on Ament's chest.
"I wish I was, but there is still an army to defeat out there, and I can't leave my legions for long."
"I am the king. I command you to stay."
Ament smiled and stroked her hair. "Not even for the king," he whispered.
"I cannot do without you."
"You must; for a little longer at least."
"Your legions have commanders. Let them earn their bread."
"Yes, they have commanders, but I fully trust only Mose. Ankhu and Djutep are weak and need constant supervision."
"Then replace them with officers from the Set legion."
"Perhaps." Ament sighed. "It requires balance. If I remove them from office, I risk the men of their legions deserting. I cannot be too harsh on deserters, because then the whole legion might refuse to fight. They are afraid of Setnakhte already and only the bravado of my loyal Sets keeps them in place."
Conversation turned to more intimate matters for a while, but thoughts of their situation nagged at both of them.
"What is the mood in the city?" Ament asked. "I come and go by night, so I haven't been able to judge for myself."
"Not good," Tausret admitted. "I get booed if I go outside."
"They dare?"
"One can hardly blame them, beloved. I have brought nothing but sorrow and privation to my people. Many of them think they would be better off under Setnakhte, and they are no longer afraid to tell me so."
"Let me but hear them and I will lop a few heads to teach them respect."
"My fierce warrior. Find me a way to break the siege instead."
"Nothing can be done until the waters fall. The ground is boggy and soft, completely unsuited to warfare. Chariots are useless and any charge by foot soldiers falls apart within twenty paces."
They lay in silence for a time, enjoying each other's company.
"Setnakhte's men would find it as hard to fight as yours?" Tausret asked.
"Of course. Why?"
"If you could devise some effective means of attack, they would be unable to use their superior numbers to any great effect."
"Ah, love, it is not so easy."
"Will you think on it?"
Ament spent four days in the city, talking to the officers of the Khent-abt legion and the palace guards, touring the defences, and talking with the people in the streets. He refrained from lopping any heads off, but instead eavesdropped on conversations, noting the hungry and dejected looks on everyone's faces. On the fourth night, he took his leave of Tausret once more and slipped naked into the floodwaters and swam back to his own lines. Back in his own command tent, he dried off in front of Mose and sipped spiced wine to banish the chill in his bones.
"I'm getting too old for this," Ament grumbled.
"A man will do anything for love," Mose observed.
Ament looked sharply at his legion Commander, debating whether the man had been disrespectful. He decide to let it go and merely muttered, "Indeed." When he had dressed and partaken of a light meal, he raised the subject of the war with his trusted officer.
"Something has to be done, and quickly. The people of Men-nefer are stretched thin. It wouldn't surprise me if they threw open the gates and surrendered."
"Not much we can do until the waters fall and the land dries out, sir. A few raids maybe, but no general action."
"That is certainly the conventional wisdom, Mose." Ament was silent for a while, sipping his wine and nibbling on some dried figs. "What if we broke with convention?" he asked.
"I don't understand, sir. How?"
"What is it that prevents warfare during the flood?"
"Er, the water everywhere, sir? I mean, chariots are useless and the mud is slippery. Nobody wants to be splashing around trying to fight somebody and stay upright at the same time."
"So we could just stand back and use archers?"
Mose grimaced. "Why are you asking me, sir? I'm no archer."
"You should be conversant with every weapon at your disposal. The reason bowmen are not much use is that the damp warps the arrows and affects the bowstrings."
Mose shrugged. "So it's as I said--not much point in fighting until after the water falls."
Ament frowned. "What if we could move about without slipping on the mud?"
"How we going to do that, sir?"
"I'm not sure. You've seen camels?"
"Once or twice. Ugly mean-tempered brutes. I hope you're not asking me to ride one."
Ament laughed out loud. "That would be something to see. No, what I meant is, they can walk over soft sand by having feet that spread out. If we could wear something on our feet that spread out, we could do the same."
Mose scratched his head. "That's as maybe, sir, but sand isn't water. A camel would just flounder in flood waters, same as us."
"That's true, but it is an example of what I mean. We can't walk across soft sand easily but a camel can. If we had spread out feet perhaps we could too. So what animal walks across slippery mud without ending up on their backs?"
"I don't know, sir. Frogs?"
"What about a heron...or an ibis? They walk along muddy banks and I've never seen one slip. How do they do it?"
Mose grimaced. "Sorry, sir, I've never really looked at birds. Beyond eating them, that is."
"Their feet, Mose. They've got claws on their feet and they grip the mud. That's what we need."
Mose looked down at his feet and wiggled his toes. "I've got nails, but nothing like enough to grip mud."
"So we'll have to make some. Any ideas?"
Mose scratched his head again. "I don't like the idea of cutting off birds' feet to get their claws, begging your pardon, sir."
"There wouldn't be enough birds around here for even a hundred men, let alone a legion or three. We need to find something else." Ament yawned. "I'm too tired to go on. Think about it, Mose. We'll talk later."
Mose woke
Ament a few hours later, bubbling with excitement. He waited impatiently while his General scratched himself, yawned and used the midden.
"All right," Ament said. "What's so important it couldn't wait another few hours?"
"Sorry, sir, but I've found the bird claws we need. Look." Mose ducked out and came back in with a thorn branch. It was one of a number that had been cut from thorn scrub on the edge of the desert and woven amongst the palisades used in the defensive wall. The branch sported several wicked looking thorns, some as long as a man's thumb. "If we cut off the thorns we could poke them through the soles of reed sandals and they'd dig in and grip."
Ament tested the point of one of the long thorns with his finger. "Well, you'd better get a pair of sandals and try them out."
"I have, sir," Mose said proudly. He lifted one foot and showed the sole of one of his sandals. Several thorns stuck out from the bottom, two of them broken off short.
"Some of them have broken."
Mose nodded and lowered his foot. "They do that, but they grip the ground well."
"Have you tried them on mud?"
"Not yet, sir."
Ament insisted on trying them out immediately, so they walked over to a muddy section of river bank out of sight of the camp. He pointed to a nearby tree.
"I'll race you to the tree."
Mose set off, lifting his legs high, his sandals making sucking noises as they lifted from the mud at each pace. Ament ran alongside, gingerly at first and then more confidently as his ordinary sandals showed no signs of slipping. He drew ahead of Mose and half turned with a grin.
"I'd say your thorn sandals are a waste of time, Mose. I can run faster without them and..." Ament yelped as his feet went out from under him and he slid several paces down the bank.
Mose laughed and stepped past him. "Sorry, sir, I'd stop and help you but I have a race to win."
Ament scrambled to his feet. "We'll see about..." He went down again, onto his face this time.
By the time Ament made it to the tree, Mose was sitting down and examining his sandals. "Another few thorns broke off, sir, and worse than that, mud clogged between them. By the time I got here I was carrying half the riverbank."
"It was still impressively fast across a muddy bank though," Ament said, squatting down to pick at the mud between the thorns on one of the sandals. "Do you think you could fight with these weights on your feet?"
"I think so, sir, but I wouldn't be as agile as a man without them. Better than a man sliding around in the mud, though."
"Worth trying on a larger scale?" When Mose nodded, he clapped him on the shoulder and helped him to his feet. "I think so too."
Back at camp, Ament brought Ankhu and Djutep in on the planning and Mose demonstrated his thorny sandals for them. Both commanders wanted to try them out and voiced their enthusiasm for the modification.
"When are we going to use them, sir?" Ankhu asked.
"We need to equip every man first," Ament explained. "There aren't enough thorns in the palisade, and I don't want to strip our defences anyway. We'll have to go into the desert and cut fresh branches."
"Perhaps we could just cut the thorns off the trees," Mose suggested. "It would be an awful lot easier carrying baskets of thorns back than hundreds of prickly branches."
"Good idea. I want you to head up the expedition to the desert, Mose. Take as many men as..."
"I'd like to volunteer, sir," Djutep interrupted. "I'll take the whole Sept legion and collect enough for everybody in a day."
"That's going to leave us shorthanded," Mose said. "Only two legions to face the enemy."
"Fewer men will take longer," Djutep answered. "Besides, isn't that the whole point? Nobody can attack through mud unless they have the thorns on their feet."
"It's only for a day," Ankhu added.
Ament nodded. "The Sept legion it is then. Go after sunset today, day one, so nobody sees you leaving and be back by the following day at the latest, no matter how many thorns you've cut. Mose, you're in charge of getting the thorns into the sandals, and Ankhu, you make sure every soldier has rush sandals. Make more if you have to. I want to attack the enemy at dawn on day four. If we leave it any longer, the falling river and the hot sun will allow the land to dry out and we'll lose any advantage this ruse will give us."
"Where will you be, sir, while we're doing all this?" Mose asked.
"I'm going into Men-nefer again. I want to arrange for Khent-abt to attack the rear of Setnakhte's legions as we attack the front."
***
Ament slipped uneventfully into Men-nefer the next night and after a pleasurable hour or two spent in the arms of his royal lover, went in search of Ramose, Commander of the Khent-abt legion. Because of the lateness of the hour, he had to rouse him from his bed to question him.
"Is your legion ready for action, Commander?"
Ramose looked at his General in some confusion. "Setnakhte has retreated from Men-nefer?" he asked.
"No, but our days of sitting around on our backsides are over. Is your legion ready?"
"Er, yes...sort of, sir. This enforced inactivity has lowered morale, sir. There are a lot of malingerers, but...I suppose about two-thirds strength."
"Not good enough. Unless a man has broken bones or is vomiting up blood, I want him clutching his spear and ready to go by dawn the day after tomorrow. Have your officers use whips if they have to, but I want nine out of ten men ready."
Tausret listened to Ament's plan soberly. "Is it going to work?" she asked.
"That's with the gods, but it's our last best chance. I think the thorns will help our legions, but Khent-abt will be handicapped not having them. They'll just have to help as much as they can."
"When?"
"Day after tomorrow, at dawn."
"I will lead Khent-abt."
"No, my love. This is going to be savage fighting and I would not have you in danger."
Tausret frowned. "And will you be sitting in your tent while your men fight?"
"Of course not..."
"Then neither will I." She gestured imperiously as Ament opened his mouth to protest further. "I am King of Kemet and sound of body; I must lead my troops into battle. I would not be deserving of the throne if I hid while my people died."
Ament nodded. "Of course you must. I was blinded by my love for you and sought only to protect you. Forgive me, Tausret."
"You are forgiven," Tausret said with a smile. "I look forward to fighting beside you against our enemies."
"Wait for Set's battle standards to be raised and then have Khent-abt head west toward the high ground when you break out of the city. You will be less affected by the mud that way. I will have my men come to join up with you and bring you safely to my side."
"I suppose you must leave me soon."
"I thought to stay a day and make my way back the night before the attack."
"I am most glad of it, beloved."
Tausret embraced her man and led him through to her bedchamber, and they spoke of nothing more consequential than love for the rest of the night.
Chapter 52
Year 3 (8) Sitre Meryamun Tausret
The sound of rams' horns woke the city in the early morning hours and servants rushed into the royal chambers to rouse the king and her partner. Ament raced for the city walls with Tausret only moments behind him, and as the first golden rays of the new sun touched the city, they saw all their plans disintegrate before them. They stared at the water-soaked plain outside Men-nefer, and watched as Setnakhte's legions stirred themselves, formed up into as good an order as the muddy ground allowed and marched toward the palisades of the loyal legions.
"Too soon," Ament groaned. "Pray that Mose can rally the legions. Curse it; I should be down there with them."
"Your men will have the new sandals though, won't they? That will still give them an advantage, even if surprise is lost."
"They've only had yesterday and...where is Sept legion?" Ament muttered. "They must have ret
urned yesterday and should be back on station, but I don't see their banners. Ah...there's Set's...and Sobek's...they're responding to the threat, but look," he pointed, "Ramesses leads the Amun legion round our flank where Sept should be..."
Ament went pale as Sept's banners now flew in the morning breeze, but mixed in with Amun's banners. "They've changed sides," he whispered. "Oh gods curse them for the traitors they are, they've gone over to Setnakhte."
"What can we do?" Tausret asked.
"Nothing if we stay in the city. Setnakhte will destroy Set and Sobek and turn back to starve us out. Our only chance is to break out now, while their attention is elsewhere, and flee for the desert."
"I'm not leaving my loyal soldiers to die."
"They'll surrender quickly enough to save their lives," Ament said roughly. "But you'll lose any chance of rallying men to your support again if you get trapped in Men-nefer."
Tausret chewed her lip, thinking. "Very well, we leave the city, but only to go to the high ground with our men. I won't leave my people unless all is lost."
"Then gird yourself, Sitre Tausret, and let us go out to meet your enemies."
An hour later, and Tausret stood by the western gate as Ament spoke with Ramose of Khent-abt. He was angry that only eight in ten soldiers had turned up and that few of them were enthusiastic about actually fighting the king's enemies.
"You can hardly blame them," Ramose said. "We've all seen what's happening outside. It's two against six now and it's suicide at those odds." He saw the expression on his General's face. "Oh, I'll still lead my men out, sir. I know my duty to King and Kemet, but I can't answer for the fighting abilities of my under strength legion."
"Just get the king to the high ground and defend her long enough to allow my men to rally to her. Can you do that?"
They opened the gates and the depleted Khent-abt legion poured through, with Tausret, Ament and Ramose in the lead. The main conflict was to the north, where Set and Sobek were fighting for survival against overwhelming odds, so Khent-abt plodded away to the west, crossing a short muddy stretch of plain and then, as the ground became drier, increased their speed and climbed the low ridge that lay to the west. As they reached the top, Ament saw men break away from the battle in the north and head back in their direction. He called to Ramose to ready the men, but the enemy soldiers, who bore the banners of Mut legion, seemed content to block any escape to the city.
