by Max Overton
Djed looked troubled. "We will obey, of course sir, but what if we makes a mistake?"
Horhed nodded. "What is actually a threat, sir? Weapon drawn, or harsh words, or just simple disagreement?"
"I will give you a sign, like this." Iymeru lifted his right hand with his forefinger extended. "That is the sign to prepare, and this..." he extended his middle finger also, "...is the sign to kill swiftly."
When the barge reached Waset, Merenptah directed it to moor on the western bank, and Iymeru quickly ordered a chariot to convey the king to the western palace. A few discreet enquiries revealed that Messuwy had arrived a few days earlier and was now in residence at the High Priest of Amun's house in eastern Waset. Iymeru dispatched a man to inform the King's Son of Kush that the king had arrived and desired his attendance midmorning the next day. He duly arrived with the High Priest, the Tjaty Neferronpet, and a squad of soldiers.
Iymeru turned Roma-Rui and the soldiers away, refusing to admit anyone not specifically invited to the meeting. The troop commander had the men to enforce the king's commands and did so, refusing to even listen to the priest's bluster.
"The king orders it," was all he would say.
Iymeru and his men escorted Messuwy and Neferronpet into one of the smaller inner rooms of the palace, where Merenptah already sat on a carved ebony and gold inlay chair. The king did not rise to greet his son, but nodded in a friendly fashion at Neferronpet. Both Neferronpet and Messuwy went down on their knees.
"Rise Neferronpet, faithful servant," Merenptah said. As the Tjaty rose to his feet, Messuwy likewise started to get up, but Merenptah said, "I have not given you leave to rise, Messuwy."
The kneeling man flushed scarlet, but stared at the floor rather than let his father see the anger in his eyes. "I am your obedient servant, Son of Re," he said in a low voice.
"I would hope so, but I have been hearing otherwise. What do you have to say?"
"It is nonsense, whatever you have heard."
"You deny you consorted with Kemet's enemies?"
Messuwy opened his mouth to speak, but then thought better of it. He cocked his head on one side and regarded the king. "Who has been spreading lies about me, Son of Re?"
"Where is the man who calls himself Lord Sethi?"
"Sethi? Is that what all this is about? He was my military adviser in Napata but he has left my employ this last month. I don't know where he is now."
"He entered into an alliance with the Ribu to deliver Ta Mehu into their hands. It seems his intention was for you to then defeat the Ribu and ascend the Double Throne of Kemet." Beside him, Merenptah heard Neferronpet suck in his breath. "What do you have to say to that?"
Messuwy shrugged, but would not meet his father's eyes. "It sounds like you must ask Sethi when you find him. I knew nothing of these plans."
Merenptah leaned forward and stared at his son, speaking softly. "If you knew nothing, then why did you bring the Kushite legion north to Waset? Once here, you had talks with Roma-Rui and the commander of the Waset legion. Why would you do that unless you intended to wage war in Kemet?"
"The Ribu had invaded. It was my duty to raise troops to counter the threat."
"I sent you no such order, Messuwy. Your duty was to remain in Kush and defend its borders."
"Sethi told me the Ribu were invading through the Kharga Oasis as well. Waset was threatened."
"And were they?"
"As it happens, no. But I was not to know that until I collected more information from my spies. When I found out the initial report was incorrect, I withdrew into Kush."
"At the time when news of the defeat of the Ribu at Perire reached Waset. Once you had no hope of securing the throne for yourself, you fled back to Napata and concocted this story to hide your treason. That is it, isn't it?"
"No, Son of Re. I am your loyal servant. I swear it. If Sethi had other plans I was unaware of them and only acted on the information he gave me as my military adviser."
"And it is convenient this Sethi is now missing. What did you do? Have him killed? Or has he just gone into hiding?"
"I wish he could be found, Son of Re, for then he could be questioned and would reveal the truth."
"I shall have to find a good man to replace the traitor Sethi as your military man," Merenptah said.
"I shall find somebody from within the Kushite legion," Messuwy said. "Maybe even retired General Kamose. He has an estate near Aniba."
"Make no appointments without consulting me." The king looked at his kneeling son for a time and then sighed. "You may rise and embrace me, Messuwy."
Messuwy rose slowly and moved forward. Iymeru nodded to his men, Djed and Horhed, raising his right hand with forefinger extended. The soldiers turned sideways, slipping their daggers from beneath their tunics, held out of sight but at the ready. Messuwy saw the movement and hesitated, but when Merenptah made no sign, drew closer to his father and embraced him.
"You have leave to go, Messuwy my son, but do not depart from Waset until I give you permission."
Messuwy bowed deeply and left the audience chamber. Merenptah turned to Iymeru and thanked him for his service, dismissing the guards also. "I will speak to my Tjaty in private. See that we are not disturbed."
Merenptah sat down again, slightly out of breath, rubbing his right knee gently. "What did you think?"
Neferronpet considered his reply carefully. "I do not see that the King's Son of Kush can be charged with any crime, Your Majesty."
"You think he is innocent?"
"I did not say that, only that there is insufficient evidence to charge him. His guilt hangs on the words of Sethi, if he can be found."
"I daresay he lies in an unmarked grave somewhere," Merenptah said dryly.
"Then we have only his word for the events in question, apart from the documents you sent, and my own investigations."
"Which amount to very little, I take it?"
"Yes, Son of Re. Waset, like any other city, abounds in rumour and intrigue, and my spies have noted meetings between Messuwy, Sethi and Roma-Rui, together with senior officers of the Amun legion. What was said at these meetings is not known, and it could be as the King's Son said, that reports had come in of a Ribu invasion through Kharga and they were preparing for it."
"Hmm. Or else they were plotting an uprising to supplant me."
"Or that, Majesty. Unless we can put one of them to the question, we might never know."
"So you advise I do nothing?"
"I think you have to do something, Your Majesty. If he is loyal, then there is no danger, but if he is merely biding his time, then you cannot leave him to govern Kush. It would be too dangerous."
"And if I dismiss him, I may precipitate what I hope to avoid."
Neferronpet bowed, preferring to say nothing more.
The king sat in thought for a time and then remarked, "Messuwy has a son, I believe."
The Tjaty covered his surprise at the sudden change of topic. "Yes, Majesty. He married a girl called Suterere, a girl in the Napata palace, and has had a son by her."
"A palace girl? And he married her instead of just bedding her? What was he thinking?"
"I believe it was for love."
Merenptah snorted. "Love? Well, if he is not going to become king he might as well. Who is she? From a decent family at least?"
"A servant," Neferronpet said. "Sister to your own Scribe Bay."
"Gods, whose idea was that? Bay is a competent enough servant but...he would be brother to the king if the plot had succeeded...if there was a plot," the king added. "He aims high." Merenptah shook his head wearily. "Where is the son? In Napata, I suppose."
"In the city of Khent-Min."
"Indeed? Messuwy spent his childhood years there. It must have some meaning for him. Perhaps it is just that there is sweet water there and it is a good place to rear a healthy boy. What is his name?"
"Ramesses-Siptah, Majesty, and I fear it is too late for good health. The boy was born with the c
ord around his neck. His left foot is deformed and the physicians believe he will not be able to walk unaided."
"Poor boy. He is my first grandson, you know, or at least the first legitimate one. I can only hope that my son Seti will produce a healthy heir."
"I pray that it will be so, Majesty."
Merenptah pondered again. "It gives me an idea." Neferronpet waited for the king to voice his thoughts. "I will give Messuwy permission to go to his wife and ailing son in Khent-Min until such time as he is well, and appoint an interim King's Son of Kush to take over his duties."
"He will still see it as a slight," Neferronpet warned.
"Maybe, but he can do nothing about it. It is an act of loving mercy on my part and it would be churlish for him to refuse."
"Who will you appoint to the Viceregal position?"
"I thought Khaemter, son of Ramose."
"The Troop Commander in Napata? Majesty...won't he be Messuwy's man?"
"Quite possibly, but he was left behind in Napata when my son and Sethi brought the legion north, so he may not be fully trusted. On the other hand, it will soften the perceived blow to his pride to know I have replaced him with one of his own men. Besides, his father Ramose was a good man. Perhaps his son follows his example."
"A dangerous course, Majesty."
"All courses have their dangers, Neferronpet. Pray the gods are with us as we negotiate a path for Kemet and the royal house."
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Messuwy speaks:
How dare he? He is the king, but this is too much. There is not a shred of evidence against me now that Sethi is safely hidden in Wawat, and Roma-Rui has withdrawn back into the Temple of Amun, yet he removes me from my position as King's Son of Kush, and shames me before everyone. It is smoothly done, I'll give him that. My wife is sick and my infant son a cripple, so the king pretends concern for them and me and 'suggests' I take time to be with them. I cannot refuse, so I find myself in the provincial backwater of Khent-Min, cut off from all power and influence, and my hatred eating at my liver. I will have his life for this insult, one way or another.
My deputy, Khaemter, has been elevated to the position of King's Son of Kush in my place, ostensibly a temporary post until such time as I can resume my duties, but we both know it is permanent. Khaemter sent me word shortly after his appointment assuring me of his continued loyalty. We shall see. It is one thing to avow loyalty to a superior, quite another to continue loyal when you rise above him. In the meantime, I am cut off from my rightful place as Crown Prince, and I am also deprived of any meaningful place in the Two Lands. Well, I will have my revenge, and I will not be content to rule Kush or be second to any man. I will be King of Kemet, and that boy Seti and his sister bitch will go down into ruin. I vow this on Amun, my chosen god. There can only be one reason I, as eldest son of the king, have been passed over, Seti has systematically, over the years, poisoned my father's heart against me. I will not allow this. He thinks he has won, having been made Crown Prince, but I will show him who truly deserves to be king.
I visit the temple of Amun in Khent-Min, and meet the priest there, one Nebsefamen, friend of Roma-Rui in Waset. Of course, I do not trust him just on the basis of a friendship, but it is good to still have a connection with the Great Temple of Amun, for Roma-Rui knows that only I can give him what he wants. The god will support me, I know, for I have vowed to rule from his holy city when he makes me king.
I pray, too, for the health of my wife Suterere and my little boy Siptah. The gods have not smiled on my son, giving him a deformity in his left foot that may preclude him from succeeding me to the throne. Divine kings are supposed to be without blemish, strong and forthright in appearance and behaviour, not a limping cripple. He is young though, and he may improve as he matures. His foot will always be twisted, but if his mind is unaffected, he may yet function. Other kings have been less than perfect in the past, the Heretic is a prime example, and even my own father was old and infirm when he came to the throne.
My wife Suterere has never fully recovered from the birth and has wasted away and lost interest in anything save her child. I pray to the gods but I see no sign that they listen to me. Perhaps it is fated that she will pass into death and another woman will become my queen. I will miss her, but she is no longer the woman I married. She is still the sister of Scribe Bay though, who resides in the court of my enemy. For this reason, and for the love we once shared, I will not put her away, though naturally I seek solace elsewhere. Bay may yet be useful to me, so I cultivate him, sending him gifts that are routed through intermediaries so they can never be seen to come from me.
Bay plays a double game, I am sure. Firmly ensconced within my father's court, he makes himself useful to the king and to Prince Seti, but I believe his ultimate loyalty is to me. He knows that whatever the king and Seti can offer him, if he stays by me he will be brother to the king's wife and eventually uncle to the next king. No man could pass up such an opportunity.
I sit in my residence at Khent-Min, it was once the manor house of a rich landowner, and contemplate my lot. It is pleasant enough here. I have views of a great sweep of river bordered by reed beds and farmland, groves of date palms and fields of vegetables, and a breeze blows away fever, cooling me as I sit in the shade and think of my future. Once I ruled the whole of Kush and regarded it as a prelude to ruling all of Kemet. Now I rule a small estate and plan my revenge.
My father will die soon. He is already old and infirm, and can scarcely move from his bed to the audience chamber without getting out of breath and having his chest constricted as if by bands of bronze. Every physician I have spoken to tells me this condition is invariably fatal, though not necessarily immediate. So, do I wait for my father to die in the gods' good time, or do I hurry him along?
There is a risk in taking action, but the benefits may outweigh them. Say the king dies naturally, at a time unforeseen by any save the gods, most likely in the palace at Men-nefer. Seti knows immediately, and at once makes arrangements to succeed him on the throne of the Two Lands. It is days before a messenger can bring me the news, and by then Kemet has a new king, accepted even if not yet crowned, and I am nothing.
On the other hand, if I know the moment of death beforehand, I can make all the arrangements to remove my rival and gain the support of the army. The trick is knowing the moment of death, and the best way of achieving this is to arrange for his death. Not personally, of course, for I could never get close enough in the first place, and never hope to escape afterward. No, I must find someone who can gain access to the king and who is above suspicion. Scribe Bay perhaps, though I think he would balk at killing the king. Perhaps the King's Cupbearer. Or a physician. There must be a king's physician who hungers for gold and would be willing to administer a poison.
I sit in the shade in the cooling breezes, watching the fishing boats sweep up and down the river like flocks of white-winged birds, sipping on river-cooled wine, and put together my plan. It will not be easy to do, but I am confident. If I do nothing, my name will be lost in obscurity, so I must take the risk. I risk all, but I stand to gain all. There is another problem, that of Seti. Even knowing the time of the king's death I cannot be certain of victory if Seti remains. Therefore I must remove him.
A servant brings me a light meal of bread, a slice of roasted goose and ripe dates. I eat them slowly, contemplating my choices. Perhaps I should kill my brother Seti instead of the king, and hope that the king will make me Crown Prince in his stead? It is a possibility, for the king is old and there is no one else who could ascend the throne. Even if that bitch sister-wife of his has a child and it is a boy, an infant is easy to dispose of. A possibility, but it would be harder for a single assassin to kill Seti than the king.
I drink sweet wine from my own vineyard, cooled in the river and served in a beautiful blue-glass goblet I commissioned from a glassblower in Waset as I contemplate my problem. It is easier to kill the king and who knows, maybe the gods will do my work fo
r me. But the problem of Seti still remains. If he remains in or near Men-nefer when the king dies, he will claim the throne. I must forestall that somehow. If only I could make sure he was elsewhere when my father dies. Let us suppose I can order the king's death for a certain day, can I also draw Seti away on that day? An inspection of troops perhaps? No, I don't want him near the army. A temple inspection then? Better, but would he be interested? It must be something that he cannot ignore.
A wasp flies in from the garden and settles on the table beside my goblet. It investigates a ruby droplet of wine on the table and I bring my hand down sharply on it, snatching my hand back before it can sting me. It lies curled and twitching, its body fluids mixing with the wine, and presently stops moving. It is dead. Death...yes, death gives me the ideal excuse. We all have our tombs being excavated in Ta-sekhet-ma'at, the Great Field, and he will quickly respond if word reaches him that there is trouble with the stonemasons chipping away at the rock of his tomb. He will speed south to the Great Field, into my trap, and he will die on the same day my assassin strikes the king dead in Men-nefer.
I consider the idea at length but I can find no great fault with it. There will be a lot of work setting it up, but I am confident of my abilities. I will remove my enemies and take for myself the throne of Kemet which is rightfully mine.
My child wakes from his sleep in the shadowed house and cries. I hear the answering call of Suterere, and I awaken from my dreams. I rise and go in to my family with a smile upon my face, for the future is within my grasp and I will take hold of it so I, and my son Siptah after me, will be King of the Two Lands.
Soon, Baenre Merenptah. Soon Seti Meryenptah. Death is coming for you both.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Year 7 of Baenre Merenptah
Married life agreed with Seti and Tausret, in that very little changed. Seti, now seventeen floods old and already experienced in battle, started to learn the intricacies of ruling a great kingdom. The victory over the Ribu at Perire had been the old king's last personal victory, for if enemies came again he would not be the one to command the legions. That would be left to the son and heir, while the father remained behind to maintain Ma'at in Men-nefer.
