by Overton, Max
"When I am king, I will need a trusted man to carry out my commands. Who better than a man who has fought beside me for thirty years?"
"I am honoured, Lord Horemheb."
"Well, that is fifty days away, after the coronation, which will be in Waset. I will follow the custom of Nebmaetre's family and stay with Amun's city."
"A wise choice. It will help maintain stability."
"Enough of these things." Horemheb moved his wine cup aside and tapped the map. "Tell me of the northern borders. What are the Amorites and Hittites up to?"
"The gods have smiled on us there. Shuppiluliuma died and has been succeeded by Arnuwanda, but he is sick. The old king's other sons and relations are gathering in anticipation of his death and succession. I doubt the Hittites will be in much shape to fight for a few months yet. Aziru is still king of Amurri though, and now that they have possession of the Fort of the Gulls under the agreement Ay struck, they are in a position to threaten Kemet. To counteract this, I have Djedhor with the Heru legion, Djeserkare of the Khent-Abt, and Ptahwere of the Shu legion opposing them. Due to march out of Zarw is the Re legion, currently under the temporary command of Mose."
Horemheb nodded. "Confirm Mose as legion commander and promote Djedhor to General of the Northern Borders. Is your son Seti still with Djedhor?"
"Yes sir."
"Leave him there but suggest to Djedhor that he promote him if he deems him worthy." Horemheb looked at his companion. "What? You think I should just give him command of a Troop? He is only twelve years old."
"No sir, but..."
"If I give him command beyond his capabilities, he will fail. Let him advance on his merits, Paramessu. Believe me, he will be the better for it. Now, draft orders for Djedhor that I want the Fort of the Gulls retaken."
"And what of the Amorite army under General Jebu?"
"I'll give that some thought. Let me have all the intelligence you have on his whereabouts and that of his army." Horemheb drew another map out from under the one showing the northern borders and spread it, pinning the corners with polished stones. "Turning to the south now. What have you heard from Waset?"
"What one always hears from Waset," Paramessu grumbled. "It is a stew-pot of unrest. Ay was always strong there and he had a lot of supporters."
"Anyone in particular or just general unrest?"
"There are two men with the potential to cause trouble. Lord Nebamen is Overseer of Temple linens and Lord Rewaret is Overseer of Palace Wine."
Horemheb laughed. "You do not take them seriously?"
"They are both sons of Nebmaetre Amenhotep. Nebamen is the eldest but his mother was a slave girl, whereas Rewaret's mother was a lesser wife. They both think they have a claim on the throne."
"They aim that high? Do they have support?"
"They have their estates and a few hundred men at their disposal. Of themselves, they pose little danger, but they could act as the focus for discontent."
"Well, we need to stamp them out quickly. I intend to be crowned in Waset and I don't want any trouble marring the day."
"I'll send a trusted man."
"Go yourself. Take a legion and shake the city up. Execute troublemakers if you have to." Horemheb pulled out a folded sheet of papyrus and handed it to Paramessu. "There's something else you should see."
Paramessu perused the document, his lips moving as he silently sounded out the syllables. "Menkure? I thought he'd been killed."
"Unfortunately, no," Horemheb growled. "I had just defeated him when I received word that Ay was making a bid for the throne, so I left him scuttling into Nubia with his tail between his legs."
"And now he's back?"
"So my spies tell me. The mayor of Ta-Senet reports raids by disciplined Nubians in the region of Setwah and the Kharga Oasis."
"And this Kashtare it mentions? Who is that?"
"Supposedly a half-Nubian son of Smenkhkare."
"Set's testicles," Paramessu muttered. "That would really put the cat among the mice. Is there any truth to it?"
"Who can say? Kashtare is a young man of an age that Smenkhkare could have fathered him early in his exile, but why have we heard nothing about him until now?"
Paramessu made some quick calculations, utilising his fingers. "He cannot be more than fourteen years old. I suppose first Smenkhkare and then Menkure have kept him hidden away with his mother's people. Now that Ay is dead, Menkure sees it as the first best chance to push the boy's claims."
"If the lad is in fact Smenkhkare's."
"There is that," Paramessu agreed. "How can anyone tell a child's father? You see this Kashtare as being a problem?"
"Not really. He would need a good army to back up his claims, and a horde of half-trained Nubians will not be enough. That's another thing you'll investigate in the south."
"You want me to fight Menkure as well? One legion will not be enough, unless you plan on giving me the Re or Heru legion."
Horemheb shook his head. "No, I said investigate, not fight. I want you to scout the land down to Setwah, talk to people who have seen Menkure and this Kashtare, find out the size of the army they can field, and start building me another legion or two locally. Use the Amun legion as a nucleus. That's another thing that needs a shake up. General Psenamy needs to be retired and a new man appointed. I'll leave that up to you."
"You'd leave that to my discretion?" Paramessu looked surprised. "Appointments are normally made by the king or general in charge of the armies."
"Well, we don't have a king yet and I'm the General of Armies, so it'll have to be someone else. You are my choice for that person, Tjaty Paramessu."
"I will not let you down."
"I know you won't. The appointment cannot be made official until after the coronation, but that is just detail. You'll carry my writ down with you and woe betide the man who does not heed it."
Horemheb came around the table and embraced his friend warmly. "The gods be with you, Paramessu. Go now and prepare. I want you on your way before nightfall." He watched as the other man took his leave, and then refilled his cup from the jug of wine on the side table. He sat down and sipped at the tart liquid while he thought over his recent discussion with Paramessu. He reached a decision and called for a servant.
"Find Lady Khepra and ask her to attend on me at her earliest convenience." He considered using stronger words and demanding her presence but decided that a softer approach might allay her fears. The servant returned less than an hour later with Scarab and Khu.
Scarab entered and did no more than incline her head slightly in acknowledgement of his presence. Khu bowed more deeply and withdrew to the edges of the room. Horemheb nodded curtly at the young man but just stared at Scarab.
"Lady Khepra, it grieves me you would reject my hospitality by trying to leave."
"Lord Horemheb, let us have no illusions as to our relative positions. You are a lord only because of your station and ability in the army, whereas I am royalty. However, you are also my captor, and if you insist on holding me against my will, of course I will make efforts to escape."
Horemheb made an exaggerated bow. "Forgive me, Lady Khepra. I will endeavour to make your captivity less onerous. Perhaps I could have the royal dressmakers and jewellers call upon you to provide you with apparel that is more befitting of your position. May I say, though, that that wig suits you better than your natural red hair? I am glad you decided to shave."
"Do not patronise me, Lord Horemheb. You know very well why I shaved my head."
"Yes, of course. My apologies." Horemheb smiled. "I shall have to warn my guards to expect the unexpected where you are concerned."
"Why did you call for me, Lord Horemheb?"
"I want you to help me with something."
"Why should I do that?"
"Because your answers may help Kemet."
"Kemet, or you?"
"They may be one and the same."
"I doubt it, but ask what you will."
"Then forgive me
if I refer to something that may cause you pain, but how well did you get to know your brother Smenkhkare when you were in Nubia with him?"
"We were always close, Horemheb. You know we grew up together."
"I know, but especially in Nubia, after you joined him there?"
Scarab shrugged delicately. She crossed to a chair and sat down, rearranging the folds of her dress. "I knew him as well as a sister may know a brother. Why?"
"Did he take a wife down in Nubia?"
Scarab stared at Horemheb. "A wife?"
"A wife...or consort. Did he take a woman to bed?"
"He...he might have, but I did not see it. Why?"
"You heard no rumour of one? What about children? Were there children in the camp?"
"Yes. A number of the soldiers took wives or had less formal relations with native women. There were babies and children around. What has this to do with my brother?"
"Could one of the children have been his?"
"Smenkhkare's? I doubt it. He was not the sort of man to hide something like that."
"What do you say, Khu?" Horemheb asked. "You were there in Nubia. Did you see anything?"
Khu shook his head. "I saw nothing."
Horemheb grimaced. "I had forgotten how much you follow her lead. I should have interrogated you separately. Well, no matter." He dismissed Khu with a wave of his hand. "So Smenkhkare had no children in Nubia?"
Scarab looked closely at Horemheb. "You would not idly ask. What has happened?"
"Menkure is back causing trouble in the south."
"I cannot imagine why," Scarab said. "His king is dead."
"Perhaps he thinks he has a new king. There are reports of a youth with him who is supposed to be Smenkhkare's son."
"Does this youth have a name?"
"Kashtare. An uncouth name but no doubt named for his mother's tribe. What do you think? Could it be his son?"
"How can I tell? I saw no obvious son when I was with him, but a young boy could have been placed in safekeeping with his mother's tribe, to be produced if needed."
"If he should happen to be genuine, what would be your position with regards his claim?"
"What do I have to do with it?" Scarab asked. "I am but a captive piece in your bid for power. A better question is what will you do?"
Horemheb shrugged. "I am undecided."
"Or rather, you will not tell me."
"I need have no secrets on that score. You are in no position to do anything with the knowledge. No, as I said, I am undecided. I will counter Menkure's threat and see what happens. In less than fifty days I will be king and Kashtare's claim, even if genuine, will be meaningless."
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Chapter Four
The Fort of the Gulls was one of a string of twelve forts guarding the northern approaches to Kemet. All of the forts had strategic significance, but the Fort of the Gulls was arguably the most important as it controlled the main coastal road and guarded the left flank of Kemet's defences. It was a measure of Ay's desperation that he had signed over control of the fort to the Amorites in exchange for the person of Lady Khepra, a vital link in the stability of his own reign. Ay had not survived the exchange by more than a handful or two of days, but his action might still cost Kemet dearly. The Amorites had marched in and taken possession, and now held a dagger poised at the throat of the Two Kingdoms.
Djedhor had orders to retake the fort, but that would not be easy when his opponent was Jebu, the Amorite General who had recently smashed the Kemetu legions and delivered their most crushing defeat in living memory. That opponent had repaired and manned the fort with a garrison of his own choosing and gave orders that the fort was to be held at all costs.
"At all costs, Murtu. You understand?"
The Amorite commander nodded, but his expression was less positive. "I only have two hundred men, General. The Kemetu will bring a whole army against us."
"And I have a whole army out here to meet them."
"They will be determined."
Jebu grinned. "Then we will deal with them as we did last time, eh?"
Murtu smiled uncertainly. "You really think we can do that again, General?"
"I am certain of it. Our men have savoured victory, and the Kemetu have tasted defeat. We shall crush them again and then the road to Zarw lies open. After that...the rich farmlands of Kemet."
Jebu left the fort and rode off to rejoin his army, while Murtu gathered his men together and gave them a speech on how it was their duty to hold the fort, but that they would be amply supported by their brethren outside. He divided the men into watches, sent out patrols, and made sure that ample provisions and weapons were on hand to withstand a siege should the Kemetu legions show up.
Patrols scoured the coastal road north and south, and probed the dry hinterland almost as far as the next fort, but aside from the usual Kemetu patrols, saw very little. Murtu relaxed only slightly and often stood on the walls looking northwest toward the sea. The grey and white birds for which the fort gained its name, flew overhead, wheeling in the warm breezes and landing to fight in a squabbling melee for any food scraps tossed out with the refuse. Murtu loathed them, but a little less than he hated vultures, and he knew those birds would be seeking out his command very soon.
"They are out there, Egas," he muttered to his lieutenant. "I can smell them."
"Let them come, sir. We'll send them home with their tails between their legs."
Murtu grimaced. "You weren't there when we beat the legions, were you?"
"No sir, but I heard all about it. General Jebu was magnificent, and we showed them what it means to come up against the Amorite army..."
"We were lucky."
Egas looked shocked. "Lucky, sir? Well, I suppose luck is always there, but..."
"If General Paramessu had not detached one of the legions to go and chase that woman, and if we had not heard about it, and if the Kemetu had not withdrawn all their patrols...oh, the list is endless, Egas. It comes down to luck in the end."
The lieutenant mused for a few minutes. "Luck is no bad thing for a soldier to have though, is it sir?"
"No, as long as that is not all he has. Just pray to the gods that Jebu knows what he is doing."
Several days passed, and then an inland patrol brought the news that a dust cloud had been sighted, far to the west and south. Murtu immediately sent out chariot patrols in that direction, and though he lost two of them, got word that two, and possibly three, legions were marching north from Zarw. He dispatched messengers to the Amorite army with reports for Jebu, and took stock of his situation within the fort.
Two days later, the scouts of the Kemetu army arrived. Murtu allowed them close, posting only a few men on the walls and making sure the bulk of his force was hidden. The scouts retired and an hour later, divisions of the Re legion ran up and swiftly surrounded the fort. Under the watchful eye of their commander, archers laid down a carefully controlled hail of arrows along the parapet, while scores of others brought tall notched poles and laid them against the walls. Men climbed the poles and as the first ones reached the top, the shower of arrows ceased, allowing them to gain access to the defences.
At the same moment, dozens of Amorite soldiers raced from cover and attacked the invaders, throwing many of them off the walls, and cutting others down where they stood. The Kemetu rallied and fought back, and a pitched battle ensued on the narrow top of the wall. Neither side was prepared to risk their own casualties by ordering their own archers to join in, so the commanders could only send more foot soldiers into the fray.
More men climbed the poles and a great cheer arose from the Kemetu legion as their men poured over the wall and into the fort compound. The cheering died away as Amorite soldiers leapt to the defence and threw down or hauled up the wooden poles, while archers shot down into the waiting men, killing several. Oil was poured over the poles and they were set alight, forcing the attackers to haul them down and try to put out the flames
before the precious wood was destroyed.
The sound of fighting in the fort compound died away, and the attackers stood in silence, their eyes fixed on the gates. An officer in the ranks called out what many were obviously thinking.
"Get ready to charge, men. Our comrades have bought us victory."
Murtu watched from a hidden command post on the wall. He grinned and signalled his men below and forty swords slashed down. A few moments later a series of rounded objects, spraying blood, flew over the walls and bounced and rolled over the stony ground. A cry of horror, and then of anger rose up from the Re legion as they recognised the heads of their comrades. They charged forward recklessly, hurling themselves at the walls, and died in their scores. Officers beat them back with whips, but by the time the legion commander regained control, a hundred or more of his men lay dead. The legion withdrew out of bowshot and settled down to wait for the main Kemetu force to arrive.
Egas joined his commander on the battlements. "We beat them back," he crowed. "Hundreds dead and we only lost twenty or so."
"A reasonable outcome for a first encounter," Murtu replied. "Their commander will think twice before committing his troops again."
Egas shaded his eyes, staring out toward the Kemetu lines. "Who is the commander? Can you see?"
Murtu joined his lieutenant on the parapet. "It is the Re legion. It was under the command of Hednakht but he died. I do not know his successor. Someone untried, judging by his disjointed attack."
"What will happen now, sir?"
"He will wait for the main army to join him. Then General Djedhor will no doubt launch an all out attack and overwhelm us."
Fear flickered in Egas's eyes. "What can we do?"
Murtu smiled, enjoying the other man's fear. "Nothing except pray to the gods that Jebu brings the army up in time."
"That should happen though, shouldn't it? I mean, word was sent to him."
"Yes, but who knows what is in the mind of a General. It may suit his purpose to let us go down to destruction, or to rescue us at the last moment. It is with the gods. Now, there are some things we can do while we wait. Make sure that every man has a meal, and rest them. Only a few guards will be necessary, but have every man sleep with his weapons."
