Fall of the House of Ramesses, Book 1: Merenptah

by Max Overton

  "Well," I said, trying to be encouraging, "we'll just have to do the best we can."

  Merey, the leader of the Ribu, inspected the city's defences the next morning, walking around the whole place just out of bowshot. The walls of Perire are made of mud brick, crumbling in places though still formidable, and two gates provide access, now blocked by heavy wooden doors. I looked down on Merey and his men, following them around on top of the walls and bearing the brunt of coarse language yelled at me by the enemy soldiers. They were quite explicit in what they would do to me and any other woman they captured, and this made me determined that I would never surrender to them. They appeared to be lacking in any sort of equipment that could bring down a wall, so I felt confident that we could wait them out.

  The Ribu sat outside our walls for half a day while the leaders no doubt debated whether to stay and try to reduce the city, or to resume their eastward march. They must have decided to move on, because they started packing up and moving off. I yelled out orders to Iymeru, and the eastern gate opened. Twelve chariots raced out, swept close to the disordered Ribu, and loosed volley after volley of arrows at them. The Ribu charged and the chariots pulled back, our foot soldiers swarming out to cover their retreat. A score or more of the Ribu lay dead, for the loss of only two of our men.

  The Ribu continued their withdrawal to the east and again our chariots raced out, inflicting casualties and withdrawing before the enemy could react. It was pitiful really, we were no more than flies buzzing around a lion, but even flies can be an annoyance and can sometimes deflect a hunting beast from its purpose. So it was with us. We killed no more than fifty of their men, but we stung their pride enough that they settled down around Perire and I knew that they now meant to destroy us before moving on into Ta Mehu. A day had passed, and Merenptah was one day nearer.

  The next day the Ribu attacked, showering the streets and houses with arrows and causing a number of casualties among the general population. Governor Amenakht ordered women and children indoors, and every able bodied man gathered up spent arrows and manned the walls against the next phase of attack. Crudely constructed ladders were raised up against the walls and tribesmen poured up them, oblivious to the rain of brick fragments and arrows poured down upon them. I was there, directing the defence and took an honourable wound, an arrow grazed my left arm, opening up a channel that stung and bled freely. I bound it up with a strip torn from my dress and fought on. The wound healed cleanly, leaving a scar, and years later the sight of that pale stripe on the dark skin of my forearm would bring back memories of our battle for Perire.

  The Ribu failed to take the city even though a number made it to the top of the wall and died there. We threw them down, and the enemy drew back to lick their wounds. A second day had passed and the king must be that much closer.

  Cunning minds were at work in the enemy camp, and a large number of men and women left their camp at first light, spreading out into the countryside. I thought that they must be foraging for food, and rejoiced that they were already feeling hunger pains. I should say that Perire's granaries were half full and would last us a month or more without the need of replenishment. Anyway, it was not food they returned with, but brushwood. They piled it at the base of the east gate and set fire to it.

  Quickly, we organised water to be drawn from the city wells and carried to the top of the wall and emptied onto the burgeoning flames. We were initially successful, and then enemy archers started picking off anyone carrying a water pot. The fire grew hotter and fiercer, and soon the wooden gates were hot to the touch on the inside.

  I rested the palms of my hands on the wood, seeing tendrils of smoke find their way through cracks in the dry timbers. "They'll be through in no time," I said, "and once they're through, that's the end of us."

  "Perhaps water on the inside?" Iymeru suggested.

  It was worth a try, so we hauled more water and threw it against the heated wooden gates, hoping to stop the flames breaking through. Our efforts were futile though, and by midday, charred spots were appearing in the once-thick timbers. We ceased throwing water at the gate and took up our weapons, readying ourselves for when the gates fell, determined to take as many of the enemy with us as we could.

  Is this all that my life comes down to? I asked myself as we waited for the gate to burn through and for the Ribu tribesmen to overwhelm us. I had put off marriage and now would have no children to continue my father's line. I would die here in Perire without issue, though hopefully my sacrifice, our sacrifice, would not be in vain. O Gods of Kemet, I prayed, Hear me. I offer my life and that of my unborn children, if you will save Kemet from the Ribu. It wasn't much of a sacrifice, I suppose, seeing as how I was about to die, but one should always be careful what one promises. The gods have plans unknown to men and women. They heard me, accepted part of my sacrifice, and I came to regret my hasty prayer.

  A crashing sound drew my attention back to that hot street in Perire, and I saw that part of the gate structure, the mud brick of the wall itself, had cracked and crumbled in the intense heat and had fallen in a pile of rubble before us. I stared, thinking that the pile of rubble might impede us when we charged the enemy coming through the burnt-out gate. On the other hand...

  "Iymeru, could we knock these buildings down to block the street and gateway?"

  He looked around, seeing the possibilities immediately, and sent for stone workers with their heavy hammers. They set to with a will once the reason had been explained, though the homeowners whose houses were to be knocked down were unhappy. I authorised payment in gold from the treasury, and dust and rubble flew. At first they started by knocking the top floors off, cascading stones and brick into the street, but the work went too slowly and an old man who had been a builder of some note (he said) showed the workers how to weaken the whole structure and then bring the whole edifice down with a roar. Several buildings later, we had the whole of the street in front of the crumbling gate blocked with debris, and we only lost two dead and a dozen injured by falling bricks.

  It was not a moment too soon as the gate timbers collapsed in a shower of sparks, and a little later, the first of the Ribu warriors was scrambling over the pile of debris. They were at a disadvantage on the unstable rubble, and our archers managed to pick off many of them. Weight of numbers eventually told, however, and they forced us back. We retreated slowly, the number of fighting men they could throw at us being limited by the width of the street. Many Ribu fell, but so did Kemetu, and we had fewer to start with.

  I sent the stonemasons to bring down more buildings, and we had a brief respite behind another heap of rubble, but then the Ribu swarmed forward again, clearing away the broken bricks, and we retreated. We drew back along the main thoroughfare that runs from the eastern gate to the Governor's Palace, but other streets branch off it, and soon the Ribu spread out into the city, killing and looting. My heart sank, for it was only the third day and my father could not possibly be here in less than five. I ordered the retreat back to the Governor's Palace, where we would barricade ourselves for the last battle.

  "What do we do about the chariots?" Iymeru asked, leaning against a building with blood running freely down his arm where his wound had reopened.

  "Leave them," I replied. "We don't have time to get them into the Palace." I hated to leave them for the enemy, but what could we do except break their wheels or set fire to them. I looked down the street to where the Ribu swarmed and I grinned, turning to Iymeru. "What do you say to one more charge? While they're disorganised."

  He shrugged. "Why not?"

  We ran back, calling to the charioteers and swiftly drew together eight chariots with horses, their drivers, and a man with a spear or axe beside each of them. I was the only one wielding a bow as I did not have the strength to fight with heavier weapons. Upon my signal, the Kemetu line parted and our tiny squadron of chariots raced through and almost instantly crashed into the loose skirmishing line of the enemy. I think I might have said that chariots are
of limited use against disciplined foes, but once the enemy becomes disorganised, they cannot stand against them. We were only a few, yet we slashed our way through the ranks of the Ribu, dealing death on every side, until we reached the rubble piled in the streets. Then we turned and charged back down the street, scattering the enemy once more. It was glorious, but made little difference. Another fifty of the enemy died, out of thousands. We lost one chariot and three men whom we could ill afford to lose.

  I wanted to try another charge, but Iymeru pointed out that the Ribu were getting organised and had brought up heavy lances to counter our chariots. So we withdrew into the palace grounds, barred and bolted the gates, and prepared ourselves against the final assault we all knew was coming. Our surviving soldiers were in good spirits, though the men of Perire looked frightened. I did not blame them, but was careful not to show my own fear.

  Governor Amenakht berated me soundly for bringing this disaster upon his city. "The Ribu were passing us by, but you had to draw them down upon us. You have doomed us all to death, men, women and children, and for what? Four days? Tomorrow they will kill us all and resume their eastward march into Ta Mehu. The king is not coming."

  "The king is coming," I said. "You have seen how even a few chariots can scatter the Ribu, well, the king has hundreds of chariots. But he needs the right place to use them, and that place is here, at Perire. Our sacrifice has bought him four days. If he had met the Ribu four days further into Ta Mehu, the ground would be too soft for chariots."

  "Much good it will do us," Amenakht muttered.

  "Better us than the whole of Kemet."

  "It would not have come to that. Lord Sethi promised..." Amenakht flushed and stopped.

  "Who is Lord Sethi and what did he promise?"

  "Nothing. I was thinking of something else." Amenakht excused himself and left.

  I wondered what he meant. Well, the odds were good that I would never find out, so I put it from my mind and went to find myself a meal and a bed. At least I would face death well rested and with a full belly.

  Dawn broke on the fifth day and we offered up our prayers to the gods and prepared to die. We stood behind our rough barricades with weapons in hand, but the enemy did not attack, and presently we looked out to see deserted streets. Even the corpses were gone. When we climbed the city walls we saw the Ribu streaming away to the southeast and far off, issuing from the bright rays of the morning sun, we heard the rams' horns of the Kemetu army, calling the legions to battle. Baenre Merenptah had arrived.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Year 5 of Baenre Merenptah

  Merenptah and Seti had made good time after they left Men-nefer by barge. Seti had chafed at the idea of a slow river cruise and his father had smiled and given in to his pleadings. Leaving the main body of guards to follow on the barge, the king had the royal chariot unloaded and set up at a place where the road passed close to the river. Two of the horses were led ashore and hitched to the chariot. Rudamen the guard captain watched the proceedings uneasily and remonstrated with the king.

  "Son of Re, you must have a guard."

  "You think I cannot travel safely in Kemet, Rudamen? None would dare interfere."

  "But how would it look if you travelled without an honour guard."

  Merenptah laughed and clapped his captain on the shoulder. "You are welcome to send them along, but they must keep up. I'm not going to be travelling slowly."

  Rudamen hurried off, wondering how he was going to be able to keep pace with the king. He summoned the fastest runners amongst his men and gave them their orders. The men looked at each other and grimaced, one of them murmuring, "We cannot keep up with a chariot, sir. Horses might do it though."

  "We have spare horses," Rudamen said, "but no other chariot. You're just going to have to run and try and keep up."

  "You could ride one, sir. I seen it done."

  "Ride? How would you stay on?" Rudamen shook his head. "As soon as it started to run, you'd fall off."

  "You has a thing what goes around the horse's head, sir, same as with chariots, an' you ties a rope round its belly what you tucks your feet in so's you don't fall off."

  "What's your name, soldier?"

  "Neshi, sir."

  "Well, Neshi. Sort out the spare horses and equip them with the required ropes. You're coming with me."

  "But sir, I ain't never ridden a horse."

  "Neither have I. We'll learn together."

  By the time Neshi and Rudamen were ready to mount their horses, the king and his son had left, Seti proud to act as charioteer for his father. The guards' officer directed his smirking men to lift him onto the horse's back and hold it while he gripped the reins firmly and tucked his feet into the belly rope. He nodded at Neshi, who looked uncomfortable upon his own mount, and urged his horse into motion. It ambled forward and after a few moments when it showed no inclination to go faster, he called to the men jogging alongside.

  "How do I make it go faster?"

  "Kick it in the ribs, sir," called back one of them.

  "But I've..." Rudamen freed one of his feet and hit the animal smartly with his heel. It snorted and leapt forward. Rudamen lost his balance and slid off, being dragged a few paces before he managed to disentangle his other foot. He got up and dusted himself off, glowering at his men who were laughing at his discomfiture.

  Neshi trotted up on his horse. "Don't listen to them, sir. They's ignorant. I seen it done. You slap the horse on the rump and keep your feet in place all the time."

  Rudamen tried again, and this time managed to stay on, even when the horse broke into an uncomfortable trot unbidden, keeping pace with Neshi's mount.

  "That's it, sir. I think we'll have to go faster to catch up with the king though."

  "Let's just try this for now." Rudamen grimaced and hung on. "Should it be this uncomfortable? I feel like its backbone is splitting me apart."

  "Maybe we could find a blanket or two as padding, sir. At some village."

  They found a village not much further on and were relieved to see the king's chariot. Seti waited beside the horses while the king, with the village elders in attendance, used the midden. He hobbled back as Rudamen and Neshi trotted up.

  "By all the gods, I never thought to see my soldiers riding horses."

  Rudamen slid off his horse and dropped painfully to his knees. "I had to, Son of Re. I could not see you drive off unattended."

  "Good man." Merenptah looked askance at his guards' officer. "Are you in pain?"

  "Yes Your Majesty. A bit."

  "That's why Kemetu don't ride horses. Are you going to continue?"

  "Yes Your Majesty. I'll buy a blanket from the villagers to provide a bit of padding."

  Merenptah called the village headman over. "Provide these men with anything they need, blankets, hides, food and drink."

  "Yes, Son of Re."

  With the help of village seamstresses, Rudamen and Neshi fashioned a padded blanket with hide straps for each of the horses, while Seti watched. The blankets fitted snugly without hindering the movement of the horse and after a few experimental circuits of the village, the riders were able to modify the design to be more efficient. At last Rudamen pronounced himself satisfied. The king mounted his chariot and with his son Seti driving, set off for Per-Ramesses once more, this time with two mounted riders in attendance.

  The blankets helped, and Rudamen was feeling quite proud of himself when they stopped at the country estate of a minor noble for the night. While the king and his son feasted, his two guards grabbed a quick meal and went to bed, exhausted and bruised. The next morning they could hardly move, and it was only with great difficulty that they managed to haul themselves astride their horses for the last half day into the city.

  Seti was quite excited at the thought of riding horses into battle and chattered to his father as he drove. "Imagine a whole squadron of riders, father. They'd be faster than men on foot and could go over rougher ground than a chariot."

 
"I'll grant you their speed, my son, but of what use is speed if you can't do anything with it? A man astride a horse, if he's not bruised and in pain, leans over to slash at an enemy and falls off. Or he tries to spear his foe and the force of the blow pushes him off the horse. And an archer is no better off, he can remain astride but his accuracy is terrible. The average archer cannot deliver his arrows accurately if his horse is in motion."

  Seti frowned and thought about this. "He could stop his horse and get off before he shoots."

  "Then where is the advantage?"

  "He could ride very fast to a particular place, then dismount and shoot before riding away again."

  Merenptah laughed. "That might work, but look at Rudamen and Neshi, they're hurting already and they've only been riding for a day. What use will your archer squadron be if they can hardly move?"

  "I suppose they'll get used to it if they keep riding."

  "Well, if you want to try and form a horse squadron, I give you my permission."

  "Thank you, father. I think I'll make Rudamen the commander and Neshi his lieutenant."

  "They won't thank you for it."

  Seti informed Rudamen of his promotion the next day while the officer lay groaning in his cot, face down and embarrassed. He struggled to rise but Seti pushed him back down and started telling him what he envisaged the horse squadron would be like. Naturally, when the king's son asks something of you, you do not refuse, so Rudamen had to accept his new position. Neshi was more positive despite his posterior pain, as his promotion was substantial and he could imagine great things happening in his future.

  The king inspected the garrison and horse lines at Per-Ramesses, before heading out with his full retinue of guards, who had arrived on board the barge 'Wisdom of Ptah' in the meantime. His initial intention had been to inspect the forts along the Way of Heru, pushing right up to the northern borders of Kemet, and then put his chariot squadrons through their paces, but decided to take the chariots out first.