Fall of the House of Ramesses, Book 1: Merenptah

by Max Overton

Seti grimaced. "I...I'll tell Prehotep to order a barge put at my disposal. I'm son of the next king. He won't refuse me."

  Tausret laughed. "Oh, yes he will. I'm quite sure he has more important things to do than cater to the whims of a child."

  Seti stamped his foot in frustration, not caring how it looked. "It's not fair."

  "No, it never is..." Tausret frowned, pursuing an interesting thought for a few moments. "We need to get to Men-nefer."

  "Why?"

  "Grandfather is in the Place of Beauty there and when he has been prepared and wrapped, he'll be taken south to Waset for burial. While he's in Men-nefer, we might be allowed to visit him and pay our respects."

  "What good is that? I want to get to Waset."

  "Prehotep may allow me to escort you to Men-nefer. I think I can make a case for that. Once there, we'll be out from under the Tjaty's gaze and we can find a boat to take us south."

  "Us?"

  "I'm going too."

  * * *

  Tjaty Prehotep was suspicious but could find no real reason to deny permission for two of Usermaatre's grandchildren to make the journey to Men-nefer to pay their last respects to the king. Except one.

  "I can't move the whole court down there, not without the king's permission. If I let you and Seti go, I'll be flooded with requests to let every child and grandchild, wife and concubine, go to Men-nefer."

  "Has anyone asked to go?"

  "Only you."

  "So let us slip away quietly. If they don't know we've gone, nobody will think to ask." When she saw Prehotep undecided, Tausret added, "You know Seti may well be the Heir. Do you really want to deny him?"

  Prehotep grunted. "I can't let you go unprotected, and if you have a squad of soldiers with you, you can't exactly slip away."

  Tausret had anticipated this. "Say that you are sending to Men-nefer a costly sacred amulet to be included in the burial, and soldiers to guard it. Seti and I will sneak aboard without being seen. We'll be amply protected."

  Prehotep grumbled a bit more but in the end agreed, and the brother and sister, dressed in plain clothes, but with their finery in bundles, walked aboard the small naval vessel as if they were porters loading supplies and hid in the captain's quarters at the stern until the ship was under way.

  The ship's captain, Mentuhotep, and the Leader of Fifty in charge of the soldiers, Khaemte, talked to Tausret and Seti in the relative privacy of the wickerwork cabin.

  "I know who you are, Lady Tausret...and you Lord Seti," Mentuhotep told them. "The Tjaty explained it to me. The journey to Men-nefer will take a day and a night, and you are to stay in my cabin, unseen by my crew, until we dock."

  "And I have been charged with your protection," Khaemte explained. "Both on board and in Men-nefer. You are to go nowhere without me. Do you understand?"

  "You cannot tell me what to do," Seti declared. "I am..."

  "We understand," Tausret cut in on her brother/cousin. "We will remain out of sight."

  The captain nodded and left, taking Khaemte with him.

  Seti immediately rounded on Tausret. "How dare you interrupt me? I am the Heir and I..."

  "You are not yet the Heir, and it is not too late for this ship to put about and deliver us to Per-Ramesses. If you really want to go south, you must learn to guard your tongue."

  Seti glowered. "But to be all but locked up in this dingy cabin..."

  "It's not dingy, and we're not locked up. We are favoured passengers aboard one of the King's ships." Tausret drew the reeds apart on the back wall, revealing the already distant city and the waters of the canal. "We have a view. I suggest we make ourselves comfortable and I'll ask the captain to provide us with food and drink. A day and a night and we'll be in Men-nefer. Things will be different there."

  The day passed slowly, shadows shifting slowly as the sun's disc passed overhead before plunging into the west. They ate simple fare, bread and dates, with a fine fish supper, and drank clear river water. Seti amused himself with a few pieces of reed, moving them about as if they were armies, having battles with the Ribu or Hatti, with himself as king. Tausret sat and looked out on the passing river, the green waters swirling in the wake of the naval vessel, flocks of waterfowl disturbed by their passing. Beyond the river was pasture, with herds of cattle, or orchards and crops tended by bow-backed farmers. Sometimes they would cease their unremitting labours and stare at the passing vessel, but more often they ignored their presence. The naval vessel was none of their concern.

  From time to time, one of the sailors or soldiers would come to the rear and lift his kilt or sit on a rope tied outside the ship, attending to his personal needs. Tausret would look away, not out of embarrassment, for these things were natural functions, but out of a desire to afford her fellow travellers some privacy. The captain had supplied a covered pot for their own relief, so that they would not risk being seen outside the cabin.

  When night fell, they lay down on reed mats, lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of the oars as the ship forged on through the night. The occasional muffled laugh or bark of a command was comforting in the darkness, and they had each other for company.

  The sun eased over the eastern horizon, lighting up the white walls of Men-nefer, and occasioned a shout from the man in the bows. An answering shout from the captain and the sound of running feet woke the young people. Tausret parted the reeds on the forward wall of the cabin and looked out over the oarsmen to the reed fields and the approaching city.

  "We're nearly there," she said. "Another hour and we can leave the ship."

  Seti yawned and walked over to the pot to relieve himself. "Good."

  The tired oarsmen eased their pace over the last stretch of river, a brisk northerly wind helping the ship on its way. It tied up at the city docks, and Mentuhotep the captain came to inform them of their arrival.

  "I have sent word to the Governor at the palace. Leader of Fifty Khaemte will escort you there and remain at your disposal."

  "Thank you, Captain," Tausret said. "You may be certain I will mention your courtesy and efficiency to the Tjaty, and the King when we see him."

  Mentuhotep bowed, his face creased in a big smile, and saw the boy and young lady safely into the care of the soldiers. He breathed a sigh of relief to see them go, however, as the responsibility of having them in his care was somewhat greater than he liked.

  Tausret turned down the offer of a litter, being content to walk through the streets to the palace. Seti shrugged when he heard her decision, partly wanting to ride in a style befitting his status, but also bursting with energy. They set off, Khaemte in the lead and his squad of soldiers surrounding them, alert and ready to fend off any man or woman who came too close. Crowds gathered, curious to see who was guarded by soldiers wearing the insignia of palace guards. Many comments and guesses as to their identity were tossed around and Tausret smiled to hear one loudly voiced opinion.

  "She's one of the young wives of Usermaatre and that'll be one of his young sons, you mark my words."

  "Nah, she's not old enough. She's hardly older than the boy."

  "One of his women then. They start young in the palace."

  "He's got the look of the old king though..."

  The little procession passed out of earshot, and Khaemte dropped back alongside Tausret.

  "Sorry about that, Lady. Do you want me to send a man ahead to announce you? So there are no more mistakes?"

  "Not necessary, Khaemte. It is nobody's business who we are or why we are here."

  "Very good, Lady." Khaemte resumed his position, and picked up the pace, hurrying them through the crowded streets toward the palace.

  The Governor of Men-nefer had been informed of their arrival in his city and sent a chamberlain to lead them into his presence. He remained seated when they entered the audience chamber and beckoned them close.

  Seti looked incensed that the man remained seated and expected them to stand, but Tausret understood his position as Governor and relative of theirs. S
till, she thought to herself as she walked calmly toward the indicated spot, we are...or at least Seti is...someone worthy of notice. She came to a halt and restrained Seti with a hand on his arm. She did not bow, but looked the man in his face.

  "Governor Hori," Tausret said in a strong voice. "I, Tausret Setepenmut, adopted daughter of King-to-be Baenre Merenptah, and Seti Merenptah, King's Son of his Body, greet you in the King's name."

  Governor Hori, taken aback by the young woman's attitude, quickly rethought his offhand response. "Er, you are indeed welcome, Lady Tausret...Lord Seti." He half rose from his chair and sketched a half-hearted bow of recognition before signalling for chairs and refreshment to be brought. When they were seated and cool river water poured into cups for them, he cleared his throat.

  "Tjaty Prehotep sent news of your intent to visit Men-nefer, but did not say why. May I enquire as to your purpose here?"

  "We have come to pay our last respects to our grandfather, King Usermaatre. Is there a problem?"

  "Of course not, Lady Tausret. Prince Merenptah did the same a little while ago. I welcome it, for as you know, King Usermaatre is my grandfather too. I can have someone escort you to the House of Beauty whenever you want."

  "No need, Governor Hori. Tjaty Prehotep gave us an escort. Leader of Fifty Khaemte of the Palace Guards has his orders."

  Hori rose, and this time offered up a small bow as befitted their relative stations in life. "I will have rooms prepared in the palace, Lady Tausret...Lord Seti. Please tell my servants if there is anything you desire."

  Seti drew Tausret apart as they were escorted to their rooms in the Men-nefer palace. "What did the Governor mean when he said Usermaatre was his grandfather too? Is he descended from some concubine or junior wife?"

  "Governor and Hem-netjer of Ptah, Hori, is a son of Khaemwaset, who was fourth son of Usermaatre and one-time Heir."

  "Will he be a contender for Heir then? Must I count him as my enemy?"

  Tausret shook her head. "He is a son of Khaemwaset, who was Heir before your father. However, the headdress of the Heir has passed to Merenptah and you are his son. None will contend with you...except Messuwy, of course."

  Chapter Eight

  Merenptah speaks:

  I am tired and my duties have scarcely begun. Since my father Usermaatre died, I have done little except journey throughout the Two Lands, travelling from the marshy shores of the Great Sea to the great granite boulders at Abu on the borders of Wawat, showing myself to the people and suffering through innumerable show coronations. I have sat on makeshift thrones in city centres and temple courtyards, been fussed about by priests of every god and stared at by thousands of men, women, children, supercilious cats and mangy dogs. I am tired and I want to go home and forget all this business of being king. How could I ever have thought that being king was something to lust after?

  I am an old man after all, having been born before my father came to the throne sixty-seven years ago, and like my father, I am in ill-health. I share with him pains in my joints, and my teeth ache and sometimes crumble when I bite down on something hard. I am not thin and stooped like my father though, maintaining an upright posture and have flesh on my bones. Too much flesh perhaps, for although I was once strong, I am now weak and get out of breath whenever I exert myself. I have a fondness for rich foods and honey cakes, sweet dark wine and meat of the goose dripping in fat. The palace physician says I eat too much, yet how can good food make me ill?

  By all the gods, I am tired and I hurt.

  Do I still want to be Lord of the Two Lands? Of course I do. What man refuses the throne if once it is within his grasp? Yet I fear my body is not as strong as my will. In some ways, I dread my true coronation at Men-nefer, for I must then prove my strength and fitness to be king by running round the outside of the great white walls of Ptah's city. I don't think I can manage it. I could walk instead of run, but what message would that give the people? Kemet needs a strong, virile king. Perhaps it would be better after all if I stepped aside in favour of my son.

  Ah, but which son? Was I too quick to accept my father's choice? He heaped a great honour on Messuwy's shoulders to ease him away from the line of succession, desiring that my son Seti, descended as he is through my favoured brother Khaemwaset, should reign after me. Did he know something of Messuwy's character that I, his father, did not? Do I now honour Usermaatre's wishes, or do I elevate my eldest son? Messuwy is undoubtedly talented, and by all accounts (well, almost all) has ruled well in Kush. Seti, on the other hand, is an untried boy of a mere ten years. If I died tomorrow, could he restore Ma'at to the Two Lands? I doubt it, but is Messuwy any better?

  I have said that he rules well in Kush, but less of the King's gold has come from the mines in the years of his tenure than in many years preceding him. Is this because the veins of gold beneath the mountains are exhausted? No. I have a private report that as much ore is mined as ever before, yet less of the precious tears of Re arrives in the treasury. Messuwy says that bandits abound in Kush, and this is the reason for the lack of gold, yet why does he not ask for more soldiers and stamp out this pestilence? Dare I consider the possibility that the bandits are but a fanciful story and that he steals the King's Gold?

  Messuwy is to meet me in Waset and together we will bury Usermaatre. I will have to talk to him and gauge both his loyalty and his ability. If he is abusing his position as King's Son of Kush I must decide what to do about it. He is my son after all. I could look away and let his thefts continue, but that would not be the right thing to do. He steals from the king, and that is stealing from the gods. I could just remove him from his position, but that is an action fraught with danger. Kushites are formidable warriors, and stolen gold will buy many men's loyalty. If I was to do it, it would have to be done carefully.

  Perhaps I should just confirm him in his present position and hint that loyal service may lead to greater things. Seti can be Heir for now, and if I live five years, he will be fifteen and able to lead the legions of Kemet. Usermaatre led his father's legions at that age. If his older brother rebels, he will be able to resist him. And I can always change my mind.

  So, I will become King and rule with strength and wisdom for as many years as the gods give me, and when I am gone, my son Seti shall rule after me.

  Then again, is Seti strong enough to be king after me? He is a determined boy but not especially skilled with either weapons or in reasoning. That may change as he grows older...

  I have just had a thought.

  Wait...let me consider this a moment...

  Seti needs strengthening. He needs a strong man beside him, one totally loyal to him and one who lacks ambition to be king...But who? It should be a brother, but not Messuwy. It should be...

  Is it possible the answer lies before me?

  My adopted daughter Tausret, daughter of my elder brother Sethi, one who would have been Heir had he lived. If she married Seti, his claim to the throne would be unassailable and her abilities would strengthen him. He is too young at the moment, but in another five years perhaps. He would be fifteen, she twenty-two. A little old to be starting a family, but not too old.

  They would both gain from such a union. He by having a royal-born wife and strong counsellor, she by becoming a queen. She would be Great Royal Wife, I would see to that, and their son would be Heir. They are young and healthy, and if it is the will of the gods, the House of Ramesses shall yet endure a thousand years.

  Chapter Nine

  Year 1 of Baenre Merenptah

  "When do we go south?" Seti asked.

  Tausret lifted a finger to her lips and looked meaningfully at the doorway where no doubt the ever-present servants waited. "Be cautious in your speech, little brother. We are here to pay our respects to Usermaatre. Let no one suspect otherwise."

  "Do we have to? I...I've never seen a dead body."

  "We are all of us moving toward death from the day we are born," Tausret said. "You need to see what goes on in the Place of Beauty so y
ou can be confident your body will be treated well when it is your time."

  "I suppose...but we don't have to stay long, do we?"

  "No, but we may have a problem. Khaemte has been put in charge of us and I think he takes his duty seriously. He won't let us go south unless he receives orders to let us do so."

  "Could we bribe him?"

  "With what? My copper bracelets or faience necklace? We have no gold, and even if we did, we'd need a lot to make it worth his while."

  Seti pondered the problem while Tausret sent for food and drink. When they were eating, he said, "I'm going to be Heir one day soon. Khaemte might want to gain favour."

  "It's possible, but if we ask him and he refuses, he'll be alerted to what we intend and we'll never get away."

  "Well what then? How do we do it?"

  "I don't know."

  When they finished eating, they sent word to Khaemte that they wished to visit the Place of Beauty. Shortly after, the Leader of Fifty turned up with a small squad of soldiers and escorted them out of the palace toward a large and sumptuously decorated building in the Western Quarter. Khaemte thumped on the door of the building and it was opened by an old stooped man who stared at them without speaking. An indefinable odour swept past the old man, out of the depths of the dimly lit hallways and rooms, an odour that hinted of death, spices, and sharp smells that irritated their noses. Tausret stifled an urge to sneeze, knowing it was a dreadful omen here among the waiting dead.

  "Lady Tausret and Lord Seti are here to view their grandfather King Usermaatre," Khaemte said. "Governor Hori will have sent word that they are expected."

  The old man nodded and stood to one side allowing them all to troop inside. Seti looked uneasy in the shadowed hall, standing close to his sister/cousin. A few of the soldiers shuffled their feet nervously until Khaemte rapped out a terse reprimand.

  "Who is in charge here?" Khaemte asked.

  "I am." A quiet, authoritative voice came from the shadows, and a lean middle-aged man stepped into the light. "I am the Master of Secrets and it is my privilege to prepare the body of King Usermaatre for eternity."