by Max Overton
Prehotep waited in the Throne room, pacing up and down and wringing his hands. He looked up as Merenptah entered, relief flooding over his face.
"Thank the gods," Prehotep said. "We must inform the king and mobilise the army..."
"What is the threat?" Merenptah cut in. "The Ribu?"
"Ribu?" A look of confusion came over the old Tjaty. "I was told Lubia."
Merenptah shrugged. "It is all one. They are both western tribes that are growing in strength."
"Anyway, it seems the Lubia...or Ribu...have invaded and are marching on..."
"Wait. Send for the messenger. I would hear it from his own lips."
Prehotep sent a servant off to find the messenger.
"How many more cases are waiting for judgment?" Merenptah asked.
"Three, King's Son. Two are relatively straightforward but one is somewhat more complex involving land that was leased, and then subleased to a third party, only to have the primary lessee die without obvious heirs..."
"Send them away. I will see them tomorrow."
The messenger arrived, still dusty and dishevelled, and chewing on a piece of bread. He knelt in from of Merenptah and Prehotep, holding out his arms and bowing his head.
"Get up, man," Merenptah said. He looked at the man who was swaying with exhaustion, and motioned him toward a chair. "Sit." When the man looked uncomfortable at the thought, Merenptah smiled. "Today, you are my guest and have leave to sit in my presence. Tell me your name."
"Meny, My Lord."
"Good. Now sit down and tell me the message."
The messenger all but collapsed into the chair, but struggled to sit up straight as he delivered his report.
"My Lord Merenptah, Tjaty Prehotep, I come from Governor Kament-Huy at Imu in the Ahment sepat. Eight days past, Ribu tribesmen entered the farmlands from the desert, burning and looting as they went. Governor Kament-Huy raised a troop of soldiers and countered them, throwing them back, but three days ago, the Ribu returned in larger numbers and now besiege the city of Imu. Governor Kament-Huy begs your majesties to come and rout the enemy."
"How many men has Kament-Huy?"
"A hundred, My Lord."
"And the Ribu?"
"Perhaps five times that."
"They are presently investing the city of Imu?"
"Yes, My Lord."
Merenptah considered the information, and whether he needed more to come to a decision. "Thank you, Meny," he said to the weary messenger. "You have done well and will be rewarded. Now get cleaned up and sleep. I will send for you later, when you must be prepared to report to Usermaatre."
Meny saluted both the Prince and the Tjaty, and left the room.
"Where are the legions?" Merenptah asked, when the messenger had left the room.
Prehotep thought for a moment. "Ptah is near Men-nefer, Set is here in Per-Ramesses, Re and Heru in the north, near the Retenu border. Ptah is under-strength. I presume you do not need to know about the southern legions?"
Merenptah grunted. "Send word to Ptah...who is the commander?"
"Djedhet, My Lord."
"Send him word to prepare to march north. And have Set put in a state of readiness."
"Two legions, My Lord? Ptah would be more than enough, even under-strength."
"And if Kament-Huy is mistaken and there are more Ribu tribesmen than he thinks?"
"Then should we not march immediately, My Lord? Kament-Huy may not be able to hold the city with only a hundred men."
Merenptah smiled. "Do you want to be the one to tell the king the legions have marched without his permission?"
"Ah...perhaps not then. But we should tell the king immediately."
"I will go and see him. Have the legions prepare in the meantime."
"Very good, My Lord Merenptah."
* * *
Usermaatre Setepenre Ramesses had sat on the throne of Kemet longer than most men could remember, and most days he silently petitioned the gods to release him from his torment. He now possessed few teeth, and the ones he still retained hurt. The effect was to limit him to soft foods, meat juices, bread soaked in milk, thick beer, and sometimes goose cut up very fine so he did not have to chew. He cursed the indignity of being fed pap and longed for roasted meats and crunchy vegetables.
The king could have stood the continual pain in his jaws if the rest of him had remained hale and hearty, but at ninety years of age, it seemed as if every part of his body shouted his mortality to the world. There was very little of the divine left in him, though he was still recognised as God on Earth. The pain in his joints had worsened, and somehow his back had stiffened so he hobbled about with a hunched back, needing a stick and a servant ready to catch him should he fall. It was all very demeaning and not at all the sort of thing that should afflict the King of Kemet.
Consequently, he was in a foul mood most of the time, and could not even seek solace with his wives. He had numerous young women available, but it had been several years since he had successfully mounted one of them. The Bull of Heru was faltering, and it was better to be thought uninterested in sex than a failure.
The king was lying comfortably on a specially padded couch in a dimly lit room in the inner palace, when Merenptah announced himself. Usermaatre gestured feebly to his body-servant to let the Heir in, and attempted to rise to a sitting position.
"Ah, my son, it is good to see..." Usermaatre broke off and held a hand to his head.
Merenptah had bowed as he entered the room but now stepped toward his father, an anxious look on his face. "What is wrong, father?"
"The light hurts my eyes," he muttered.
"The light?" Merenptah looked around the room, barely making out the furniture and presence of servants in the gloom. "I'm sure we can find a heavier cloth to cover the windows." He gestured toward a nearby servant. "See to it."
At once, the servant bowed and hurried from the room.
"Why have you come to see me, my son? A messenger arrived earlier, is it to do with that?"
"Yes, father. A small force of Ribu have attacked the city of Imu. I have sent word to mobilise the Ptah and Set legions, but I need your permission to march."
"Two legions? How many men have dared invade us?"
"The messenger did not know, but he estimates five hundred."
"Is that all? The Governor of Imu should be able to take care of that without troubling me. Who is this incompetent?"
"Kament-Huy, but he has a garrison of only a hundred men. He defends Imu."
"A Kemetu soldier is worth any ten savage tribesmen," the king observed.
"Yes, Divine Father, but in case there are more Ribu than we think, it would be sensible to send reinforcements."
Usermaatre lolled back against his couch, massaging his head. "My head throbs, spots drift in front of my eyes, my chest hurts and I feel like vomiting. What is wrong with me, Merenptah?"
"Shall I send for your physician?"
"He cannot help. He feeds me potions that taste foul and sicken me." Usermaatre stretched out a trembling hand toward his son. "It will not be long, my son, until you are king in my place."
"May that day be long delayed, Divine Father. I cannot imagine Kemet without you guiding it."
"You have done well enough these last few years. The people know the firm hand on the reins of power were yours."
Merenptah stood silently, knowing his father's words were Truth. He was all but King already, and soon he would be King in name too. In the meantime though, he would observe the decencies.
"The legions, Divine Father?"
"Send Ptah."
"Ptah is under-strength."
"It will still be enough."
"It would be better to make certain..."
"I have said it will be enough," the king snapped. He groaned and held his head again. "Do as I say, Merenptah. I have been leading armies for seventy years. I know what is needed."
But you will not be leading this one. "I shall ride swiftly to Men-nefer to take
charge of the legion then."
"No. I cannot spare you. I need you here."
"Prehotep can manage. I'd only be away..."
"No. I forbid it."
Merenptah bowed his head. "I hear and obey, Divine Father."
"You are a good son," Usermaatre whispered.
* * *
Merenptah left the king's presence and found the Tjaty had already sent a message to Men-nefer. He sent another messenger hard on the heels of Prehotep's, commanding the Ptah legion to gather what conscripts they could but to make all haste in their march north to Imu. Setting out precise instructions for Commander Djedhet on a small scroll, he had the Chief Scribe append the seal of the king to give his orders legitimacy.
"It will have to be enough," Merenptah said. "The king was quite explicit."
"There might be a way to do more," Prehotep said hesitantly.
"How?"
"The soldiers of the Set legion are drawn from all over Ta Mehu. I am sure that a number of them, a hundred or so, perhaps even a hundred who can ride a horse, come from the western sepats."
"So? Go on."
"If you gave them permission to visit their families, you could have reinforcements near the city of Imu within days."
Merenptah stared at the Tjaty and then roared with laughter. "By Set's hairy bollocks, that might work." He calmed down and started thinking it through. "They'd have to leave in small numbers, move off in different directions. They'd need weapons too, but couldn't justify taking them home, so we need some pack animals to transport weapons and provisions out of the city."
"That can easily be arranged. Who will you put in command of the troop?"
"I'll lead it myself."
"You can't do that! Er...sorry, My Lord, but you have to remain in Per-Ramesses. The king has said he can't manage alone."
"Nonsense, I'll be back inside half a month...and you're Tjaty. You're used to getting things done in the king's name."
"What if he asks for you?"
"Tell him I'm seeing to the welfare of the people and that I'll be back in a few days." Merenptah grinned, the prospect of military action lifting his spirits. "It's the truth, and you'll manage in my absence."
Prehotep grumbled but allowed himself to be persuaded. Merenptah swiftly made the necessary plans and the Tjaty dispatched servants to give the orders to such men as the Prince felt could be trusted.
"No word of this must get back to the king."
"I'll be as vague as I can as to your whereabouts," Prehotep promised. "When will you leave?"
"Today. Sooner gone, sooner back, and less chance of the king finding out."
True to his word, Merenptah left within the hour, riding out with a few friends, ostensibly to inspect some vineyards a few days to the north. Several other riders left within half a day, in groups of five or ten, flourishing passes bearing the seals of the Tjaty and the legion commander, allowing them to visit their families in the western parts of Ta Mehu.
* * *
The servant Bay saw these departures and pieced together what he had heard amongst the palace servants, the arrival of the messenger and Merenptah's departure. With a little astute questioning, he found out that the king had not authorised the Prince's departure. Messuwy, King's Son of Kush, after several years of frustration as Deputy Viceroy, had placed Bay in the northern palace to act as his eyes and ears. Unfortunately, he had voiced displeasure at his father in the hearing of Bay and that Syrian servant now saw an opportunity to exact a measure of revenge on behalf of his master. He hinted to the king's body servant that Merenptah had disobeyed him and gone to fight the Ribu.
Usermaatre, when he found out, furiously ordered a troop of the palace guards to pursue the Crown Prince and arrest him. Such was his anger that he rose from his bed and, despite the pain in his joints, hobbled through the palace to find his Tjaty, muttering imprecations as he went. He started pacing up and down, shouting that he had been betrayed by the man he had raised to the highest place in the Kingdoms, save his own.
"Well, what I raised up, I can cast down," he shouted, and made to strike Prehotep, who fell to his knees, his arms outstretched. "As for you, you are a traitor. I should remove you as Tjaty of the North and let you go back to being just the High Priest of Ptah in Men-nefer and of Re in Iunu. Neferronpet can be Tjaty of both Kingdoms."
"Great One," Prehotep moaned. "Forgive me. What could I do? Crown Prince Merenptah is the Heir, he speaks for you. I could only obey."
"Obey? Obey?" Usermaatre shrieked, his face suffused with blood. "You did not think to tell me instead of giving blind obedience to this upstart son of mine? I have a mind to strip you both of your titles and...and..."
The king's eyes bulged and he gasped, his right hand clutching at his scrawny chest. "Eh...euw...ag..." Usermaatre toppled forward, and though Prehotep reached for him, could not stop the king from slumping to the floor.
"Help me!" Prehotep screamed. "The king, help him."
Servants rushed in, as did guards with their spears levelled, seeking an enemy. When they saw that the king was not threatened, they carried him to his inner chamber, laying him on the bed and calling for the physician and the priests. The king lay unconscious, struggling for breath, while scores of relatives thronged the outer chambers, seeking admittance. Prehotep set guards on the doors and forbade them let anyone in except the physicians and priests. Then he hurried off first to his office and thence to the Royal Stables where he roused the Overseer, Meritamen.
"Give me your two best riders and your swiftest horses, Meritamen."
"I will need a reason, Prehotep, unless you have the king's writ."
"The king is sick, and may even be dying. I must send word to Lord Merenptah immediately."
"I had not heard. May all the gods give life to the king."
"Of course, but your riders? Your horses?"
"Yes." Meritamen bellowed for his aide and quickly had two horses and riders brought to the main gate.
"Lord Merenptah has taken the West Road," Prehotep said. "Take this to him." The Tjaty handed the man a scroll tied and sealed with the Tjaty's token impressed in the clay. "Give it to no one else and let none delay you." He turned to the other rider. "Yours is the more onerous task, my friend. Someone has sent men, in the king's name, to arrest Lord Merenptah. I fear they mean to kill him without allowing him to defend himself before the king, his father, as is his right. You must overtake these guards and give the captain this scroll..." Prehotep handed over the other one. "If the captain is disinclined to obey my orders, do what you can to delay him. Your companion must be given enough time to find and warn Lord Merenptah."
The second rider licked his lips and glanced at the Overseer. "This...this is a legitimate order, sir? If these men are ordered to arrest Lord Merenptah in the king's name, how can I dissuade them?"
"Must I fetch you before the king himself so he can verify my orders? I am the Tjaty of Ta Mehu, second only to the king in this northern kingdom and answerable to him. Obey my orders or I will find a more loyal man, and it will not go well with you."
"I...I will obey, my lord Prehotep." He saluted and mounted his horse, turning it and galloping after his companion.
* * *
The two riders came upon the troop of guards half a day out from Per-Ramesses, not far from the crossing of the second branch of the Great River.
"Ride past them, calling out that you are a King's Messenger. I will try and delay them."
The rider with the message for Lord Merenptah did just that, thundering past on the road. One or two of the guards made as if to stop him, but his calls gave them pause, and then it was too late. Their captain started to order men in pursuit, but the other rider rode straight to him and thrust the Tjaty's scroll at him.
"What's this?"
"I am a King's Messenger, Captain. I was ordered to overtake you and give you these orders."
The captain fingered the scroll and examined the clay seal. "And what message does your companion
carry? To whom is it addressed?"
"I do not know. We shared the same road but we had separate duties. Mine is to deliver this to you."
The captain broke the seal and unrolled the brief message. "It says here that the king orders our return. Who gave you this message?"
"Tjaty Prehotep himself. You saw his token on the seal? I received it from his own hand." The rider saw the indecision on the guard captain's face and pressed on. "Who am I to be received into the king's presence? It is enough that Tjaty Prehotep orders me in the king's name...and it should be for you too, Captain."
The captain scowled. "We shall return, but if this is a false message it will not go well with you." He turned and ordered his men to turn back toward Per-Ramesses.
In the meantime, the first rider had made it to the river branch and secured a passage across on a ferryboat. On the other side, he continued on into the setting sun and came upon Lord Merenptah camped with fifty of his men just as night fell. He slid off his lathered horse and dropped to his knees.
"My Lord Merenptah. A message from Tjaty Prehotep." He held out the scroll.
Merenptah took it, checked the seal and broke it open, swiftly scanning the contents. "The Tjaty gave you this himself?"
"Yes, my lord."
"You know the contents?"
"No, my lord, only that...only that something has happened in the palace. Rumours fly, my lord, and the Tjaty was...was upset."
Merenptah nodded and turned to a junior officer standing a few paces behind him. "Sermont, rouse the men. We return to Per-Ramesses immediately."
The young officer opened his mouth, his eyes drawn to the scroll in the Prince's hand, and then thought better of it. "Yes sir." He saluted and turned to shout orders.
Before full darkness had enveloped the land, the body of men had started back toward the east at a slow pace, following a road only just visible by starlight. Later, when the moon rose, they picked up the pace, arriving back at the dark waters of the Great River not long after. The ferrymen were asleep, but Merenptah roused them, promising them gold if they could transport him and his men across before daybreak.
