Fall of the House of Ramesses, Book 1: Merenptah

by Max Overton

  Ament nodded. "But I'm just a commoner, Lord Seti, a son of a fisherman who joined the army. You couldn't expect someone like me to eat as well as a Lord."

  "That's why you know how to handle a fishing boat," Tausret said. "I wondered about that. Why aren't you still a fisherman? Then you'd at least have fish to eat."

  "My father is very poor and I'm a younger son. Only three people fit in my father's boat, so my two older brothers go with him. All I could do was gather dung for the fires, so I joined the army instead."

  "Well, now you are captain of our boat. Will you still take us to Waset?"

  "It's a long way, Lady."

  "But you can do it, can't you?"

  "Yes Lady, if the gods are willing."

  "But what are we going to eat?" Seti demanded.

  "Fish," Ament replied. "And any surplus we can sell in the villages along the way to buy bread and vegetables."

  Tausret clapped her hands and smiled. "Then let's be on our way."

  They waded out to the boat and undid its mooring. Seti climbed aboard while Ament and Tausret started to push it toward the river. Just before they reached open water, Ament stopped and looked at the young woman dressed in a now rather bedraggled white linen dress smudged and stained and slightly unravelling at the hem. She did not look much like a court lady, though her demeanour showed breeding.

  "Lady, are we going to be pursued?"

  "Probably. If they know where we're going."

  "What I mean is, how important are you and the young Lord?"

  "Didn't they tell you in the palace before you started guarding us?"

  Ament shook his head. "Just that you were a Lord and Lady. What more does a common soldier need to know?"

  "And you need to know more now?"

  Ament considered the question. "I suppose not, but it would be useful in weighing up how hard they'll be looking for us."

  "Let's assume they will be diligent in their duty."

  "Then the sooner we are out of sight of the city, the better."

  Ament told Tausret to climb aboard, and then pushed the boat out, heaving himself aboard as it slid into deeper water. He used the oar to turn the boat into the current, and hauled up the tiny triangular sail. At once, the close-woven linen caught the northerly breeze and the boat lurched, steadied, and started upriver, white water curling at its bows.

  Seti squealed with glee, scrambling over nets and ropes to sit at the front, while Tausret smiled at Ament before staring in fascination at the countryside slipping by. After a bit she turned to look back and was happy to see the white walls of Men-nefer already fading into the distance.

  "We're on our way, Seti, and nothing can stop us," she called out.

  "How far to Waset?" Seti called back.

  "Depends on the wind," Ament said. "Fifteen days maybe."

  "That long?" Seti looked discouraged for a few moments and then turned back to revel in their scudding course over the green waters of the Great River.

  There were other boats on the water, several fishing boats, and the occasional ferry plying between major towns, laden with farming produce. Twice in the course of that first day a military vessel, raced up or down the river, its bank of oars threshing the water. Neither vessel approached, and gradually Tausret relaxed, her confidence increasing that they had successfully slipped away. She turned her attention to the passing scenery, never having been beyond the immediate vicinity of Per-Ramesses in her early life, and more recently, Ptah's holy city. It was a great adventure and one she intended to make the most of.

  It's not fair, she thought. Seti will go on to lead armies and visit faraway places while I will be stuck in the Women's Quarters of some palace or other, making babies.

  By midday, the city had disappeared into the distance behind them and they found themselves alone on the river, slicing through the cool waters under a hot sun. They were also getting hungry, so Ament lowered the sail and moved the boat closer to shore. He examined several braided linen lines with carved bone hooks and the net in the bottom of the boat before a thought occurred to him and he frowned.

  "I didn't think to ask earlier, whose boat is this?" he asked.

  "I don't know," Tausret admitted. "We just found it."

  "There's a fisherman back there now unable to feed his family."

  "I never thought about that, but he'll be able to get another boat, won't he?"

  "Such is the confidence of someone who has never had to work," Ament muttered. Louder, he said, "I don't suppose you'll want to go back and return it."

  "Send him some gold," Seti suggested. "I'm sure my father...er, the king, will do that."

  "I hope so, for it is not right that a man should be deprived of his livelihood. However, there is nothing we can do about that now, and in the meantime, we must feed ourselves." Ament looked over the side of the boat, looking down into the clear water. "There are shoals of small fish here, maybe finger length. I could probably net those."

  "They're too small to eat," Seti said, also peering over the side. "We eat great big catfish as long as your arm at the palace. Use the lines."

  "We don't have anything to bait them with, so we need to catch some small fish first." Ament positioned the small net and cast it over the side, letting it sink before hauling it in. It came up dripping with water, but with only a few strands of water weed caught in the mesh. He gathered the net and cast again, and this time snared a few tiny silvery fish. Seti leapt on them, yelling with excitement, and in his hurry to grab them, two splashed back into the water. Ament secured the others, freeing them from the mesh and dropping them into the bottom of the boat where they flapped and gaped.

  He picked one up and expertly pushed the sharp bone hook through one side and then back again. Blood flowed and the impaled fish struggled weakly. Ament threw the baited hook and line overboard and rested the line against the tip of his finger, feeling the tiny vibrations of the dying fish.

  "Can I try that?" Seti asked.

  "There's another line in the bottom of the boat. Enough for you too, Lady."

  Tausret shook her head. "I don't like the idea of leaving a fish to die slowly."

  "You hunt though," Seti said, looking at the young woman, a fish held in one hand and the hook in the other. "I've seen you shoot a duck in the reed beds near the palace."

  "Yes, but I killed it cleanly." She shrugged and looked apologetically at the fisherman turned soldier. "Find me a bow and arrow and I'll contribute."

  Seti threw his line overboard and for a time they all sat still, waiting for something to happen. The boat drifted slowly upriver, caught in a gentle eddy, and then out into the current and down again. Just as they started back into the eddy, Seti's line jerked and he grabbed it, yelling with pain as it pulled free of him. Ament dropped his line and grabbed the boy's, hauling it up until they could see a flash of silver scales beneath them.

  Seti now held the line and Ament reached overboard and gripped the fish under its gill covers, hauling it into the boat and stabbing it with his bronze knife. Hardly had he done so than his own line ran out and they struggled once more to secure another fish. This one was larger and thrashed so strongly that Ament was forced to stab it while it was still in the water. Blood stained the water around them, and Ament hauled the fish over the side.

  "I shouldn't really have done that," he said. "But we had to get it aboard quickly."

  "Why?" Seti asked.

  The boat rocked suddenly and something thumped the boards underneath their feet.

  "That's why," Ament said. He pointed into the water where a swirl of the bloodstained water revealed a strong tail with two rows of scaly ridges. "A crocodile. Attracted by the blood in the water."

  Leaving the fish in the bottom of the boat, Ament hauled the sail up and eased the boat out into the open, where the northerly breeze again caught them. They swiftly left the crocodile behind.

  "When can we eat them?" Seti asked, staring at the two large fish they had caught.


  "Any time you like, Lord," Ament said with a smile, "but they'll taste better cooked."

  The boy's face fell. "How do we start a fire?"

  Ament rummaged around in the boat and came up with a little cloth-wrapped package stowed well above the water sloshing in the bottom. He unwrapped it to reveal what looked like a short bow with a loose string and two flat pieces of wood.

  "Ah, I thought he might have one of these. My father always carried one."

  "How does it work?"

  "Never seen a fire being started?"

  "Servants always do that."

  "Well, I'll teach you how, and you can become a fire-starting Lord."

  Tausret smiled. "I'd like to see that, but perhaps, when we get to a village, you'd better not call us Lord and Lady. If anyone overheard, they might get suspicious. Call us Seti and Tausret."

  "I'm not sure that's proper, Lady," Ament said.

  "Nor I," Seti added. "He's a commoner and we're nobles."

  "And we cannot manage without him," Tausret pointed out.

  Ament still went on calling them Lord and Lady, but promised that he would be cautious when other people were around. "It might be better if I went into villages alone anyway. You don't look common enough to be fishermen."

  "So when do we eat?"

  Ament laughed. "We can land and make a fire any time you want, Lord Seti, but it might be worth waiting for a village. We can eat one fish and trade the other for a few other things we need."

  Seti was all for landing immediately, but Tausret overruled him. As it happened, Re had scarcely begun his westward plunge before a village appeared. Herds stood in pastures and peasants worked the rich dark soil, and soon they saw huts and many men and women.

  They landed a little past the village, and Ament showed the young nobles how to collect firewood from under the scrub willows and start a fire with the little bow and drill. Under Ament's efforts, a thin wisp of smoke arose from the base block, and when he added dry grass to it, a few small flames appeared. He let them die out and handed the bow and drill to Tausret.

  "You try it, my Lady."

  "That was foolish. You already had a fire started."

  "And I can start another one if I need to, but you should learn the skill yourself." Ament stood and picked up the larger fish. "I'll see what I can get for this in the village. Please have a fire started by the time I get back. We are all hungry."

  Tausret gave him a sour look, but knelt over the fire block and made sure she had dry grass and thin dry willow twigs within easy reach. "Go get some larger twigs," she told Seti.

  "That's servant's work," he grumbled.

  "Well, if you want to eat, you have to help."

  "I caught the fish."

  "Just go and do it." Tausret turned her attention to the bow and drill, sawing the bow back and forth while she held the rotating drill steady between the base block and the hand block. It was hard work and she could feel unaccustomed and distinctly unladylike sweat starting to form. She wiped her face on her sleeve, steadied the drill and started sawing faster. Smoke started drifting out of the charred hole in the base block. Dropping the drill and bow, she fed wisps of dry grass onto the charred hole and blew on it gently as she had seen Ament do. She had asked him why.

  "A scribe told me that the fire needs life to grow, and that a man's breath...or a woman's...gave the fire that life."

  It seemed sensible, yet evidently her life was not strong enough to sustain a fire. She started again, and when Seti returned with an armload of twigs, had him drop grass on the block and blow on it while she continued to rotate the drill. Seti obviously held a stronger life force, for the grass burst into flames and built into a small fire as he added dry willow twigs. Slowly they fed the fire, gradually building it up into a healthy blaze. Seti had to look for more wood, further afield, so Tausret let the fire die down a bit, just letting it burn a few twigs at a time. A little later, Ament returned, carrying a woven willow basket.

  "Very good, my Lady."

  Tausret smiled, brushing a lock of hair from her face with one hand and leaving a smudge of soot behind. "Seti helped me."

  "What have you got to eat?" Seti asked. "The fish is starting to smell."

  "You didn't prepare it?" Ament asked of Tausret.

  "How? Servants always did that."

  Ament nodded. "I'll do it then." He opened the basket he had brought from the village and took out a conical loaf of coarse bread, a few assorted and slightly wilted vegetables, and a length of strong dried sinew. "You told me how good you are with the bow. Make one and you can string it with this."

  "No wine? Or even beer?" Seti complained.

  "I thought this more important. I was lucky to get this much for a fish that anybody could have caught if they had bothered to try."

  Ament took the fish down to the river where, under Tausret's watchful gaze, proceeded to gut and scale the fish. They carried it back and impaled it on green twigs, holding it over the fire to cook.

  Meanwhile, Seti hunted in the reeds for strong straight stems for his arrows and searched out a length of willow wood for the bow. He had to break it from the tree and carry the rough length back to the fire.

  "Give me your knife, Ament."

  Ament looked at the boy holding out his hand. There was no doubt in Seti's face that he would be obeyed. Without a word, Ament took out his bronze-bladed knife and passed it across.

  Seti had handled enough bows and talked to the archers in the Royal Guard often enough that he knew what a bow was supposed to be like, but he had never made one. He whittled away at the willow branch with Ament's bronze knife, trimming off the bark and side branches, smoothing the green wood down, and carving notches for the string. It had a natural curve and he accentuated this as he worked. When he was satisfied with it, he stood and put one end on the ground, resting all his weight on it. It bent, creaking slightly, and he made a face as the willow stick failed to spring completely upright again.

  "It looks like a bow," Tausret said, "but I don't think it's supposed to do that. What do you think, Ament."

  "I don't know, Lady. I was never an archer."

  "It will work," Seti said stubbornly.

  It did, after a fashion. Seti cut a length of the cord and tied a loop at each end, bending the willow stick to slide the loops into the end notches. The string thrummed, but flatly rather than musically, and when he fitted a reed arrow, it flew only a dozen paces and not where he aimed. Seti threw the bow down and stamped off to sulk.

  Ament picked up the offending article and examined it, turning it this way and that, sighting along its length. "The bows I've seen were made of different things, wood, hide, sinews, in layers." He took another length of the cord and, after unstringing the bow, tightly bound flat reeds to the outside curve, tugging on the sinew until it dug into the wood. When he had finished, the bow was harder to bend, but with a bit of effort he managed to slip the loop in place. The bowstring twanged and Ament smiled, proffering it to Seti who had come back to watch. "Try that."

  Seti grimaced and fitted one of the arrows he had been fiddling with. He had fitted duck feathers to one end and rammed a sharp piece of flint in the other. The arrow flew about twenty paces and stuck into the turf.

  "A bit better, I suppose," Set muttered.

  Tausret sighed and took her brother by the arm, pulling him aside and murmuring in his ear. "You want to be Heir, but you know nothing about handling men. Even the king has a word of praise for a job well done. Have you not heard of the 'gold of praise'? The least you can do is thank Ament."

  Seti scowled but thought about it for a few moments and nodded. "You did well, Ament. I shall not forget you."

  Ament grinned and sketched a shallow bow. "A word of praise from you, Lord Seti, is like a feast in my belly."

  Tausret laughed. "We have a courtier in the making. And speaking of feasts, I think the fish is ready to be eaten."

  Chapter Twelve

  Ament speaks:

&
nbsp; I am in trouble. How could it be otherwise? Here am I, a humble fisherman turned soldier, risen to the lofty rank of Leader of Five, the first step on a military career that could lead to fame, to riches, and to power, and what do I do? I throw it all away on a little boy and a pretty woman. A demon must have whispered in my ear.

  All right, I had charge of the youngsters in Men-nefer and I lost them in the markets. Khaemte would have demoted me when he found out, but that is all, I think. I could have worked my way up to a position of responsibility again. Instead, I helped them escape.

  Of course, if they were not seen, then the boy and girl would have disappeared entirely and someone may tie this in with a stolen fishing boat. They would be helpless on the river though, and the Governor must certainly think them drowned or taken by a crocodile. As for me, they must think I have run, being afraid to face my punishment. When all this is finished, that is exactly what I will have to do. Desertion is punishable by cutting off the nose and ears at the very least, and more likely death. I can never go home either.

  I admit that when the girl threatened to cry 'rape' I considered killing her and throwing her in the river, along with the boy, but I could not do it. Khaemte has often said I am too soft to be a soldier, and he may be right. I think I could kill one of the king's enemies, but not a fellow Kemetu, and a young girl besides. Mind you, there were times on the journey from Men-nefer to Waset that I wished I had hardened my heart and rid myself of them. Particularly the boy.

  I don't know who they are, except that they are a Lord and Lady from the palace. I never saw them there, or if I did I paid no attention. There are lots of children in the palace, begotten either by the deceased king (a bull of Heru if ever there was one) or by one of a hundred princes, nobles, courtiers and scribes. You ignore the children and while I appreciate a pretty girl dressed in sheer linen as much as the next man, you swiftly learn not to look at noble ladies except out of the corner of your eye.

  If I was to guess, I would say they are the children of a senior scribe or perhaps even a son of the king by some forgotten concubine. Not important enough to be central to palace life, but high enough up that they think they must be shown deference. Especially the boy. He has enough stubborn pride to be the king! I think because he shares the same name as a previous king and as the son of our next king, he thinks himself as important. The girl is better, and under other circumstances I'd try my luck with her, but I'm only a lowly soldier on the run, and even if I was not, her status is still far above mine. Still, a man's mind is his own, and she featured in my dreams.