by Overton, Max
Merye turned away and gently tugged on her father's sleeve, but Yahmose refused to budge. "Father," she whispered. "We must go."
Yahmose remained standing, facing Biltir.
The Parunum tribal leader looked from daughter to father and then back again. "Now that I see you in the full light of day, I have seen you before, daughter of Yahmose."
"I have not passed this way before."
"You looked no younger, being a mature woman still, but your beauty had not faded as yours has now."
"Forgive my husband's clumsy and impolite words, Merye," Aalia interrupted. "I know of what he speaks, though I was but a child when our paths crossed." The Parunum woman peered closer and then shook her head. "No, I see now it was not you, but someone very like you. Such a beautiful woman and strange that she travelled alone in the company of Kemetu soldiers."
Merye paled. "When was this, Aalia, and where?"
Aalia thought. "I was a child still, in my father's tent, so it must have been fifteen or eighteen years ago. It was on the Serabit Road that leads to the mafaket and copper mines."
"D...do you know who the woman was?" Merye asked.
Aalia shook her head, and Biltir said, "We never heard her name but the soldiers mocked her as she walked, saying, 'a beautiful woman has come'. I do not know what it means."
A sob racked Yahmose and tears oozed from his ravaged eyes. "God has spoken. Our path is the Serabit Road."
Biltir pointed out the way to the Serabit Road, and Merye guided her father away, moving south and west again. According to the Parunum, the road was a military one connecting the main cities of Kemet with the principal mafaket and copper mines of Sinai. The road curved around the northern border of the Long Sea and thence down the coast of the Sin Peninsula, hundreds of thousands of paces to the mines and quarries of the kings of Kemet. From where they stood on the borders of Midian, their best route was to head south and west and cut the road as it bordered the sea. A month would probably bring them to it.
The camel-track road to the south was plain though not much used, so Yahmose and Merye travelled slowly, often waiting at a water-seep or well for a caravan or herder to pass, following on in their dusty wake for as long as they could keep up. Most people fed them, if only a piece of bread or a hunk of cheese, and water was available if not plentiful. A journey that should have taken ten days, took twenty, and the prospect of following the Serabit Road south along the coast now blossomed out to another month or so. Merye fretted at the slow pace, but Yahmose could not be hurried. Nor could he see the reason for haste.
"It has been seventeen years...or is it eighteen? Anyway, a month more will not make a difference."
"Do you not want to see her again, father?"
"More than anything." Yahmose was silent for an hour before speaking again. "More than almost anything," he corrected himself, though after an hour, when Merye no longer remembered what she had asked.
"Is it her, do you think?" she asked instead.
"Who else could it be? I thought she was dead."
"As good as dead, father, out here in this wilderness."
"No. I have a chance to see her again. God will lead me to her."
They met the Serabit Road in the marshland at the head of the Long Sea, and marvelled at the sight of so much brackish water gathering in one place without the presence of a river to feed it. Reeds grew in profusion, and grasses, their tall featherheads waving in the breezes. Ducks and other waterfowl gathered here, and though Merye had no means to hunt them, the natives of the area were generous and offered roasted bird flesh to their guests. They fed well and regained their strength among the peoples there. It was with some regret that Yahmose and Merye left the marshes and took the coast road south, seeking the town of Serabit and the mines and quarries associated with it.
They made better time on the road and also felt safer as it was a military road. Dry stream beds plunged out of the mountains to the sea, forcing an otherwise straight road to turn and twist into each gully. Near the larger gullies, the ones that might harbour a little extra water for a little longer after the rains, were tiny guard posts that sheltered a Leader of Five and his men. It was their duty to enforce the King's Peace along their short stretch of road. Not many people used the road, for there were few villages along the shore, and all who travelled the Serabit Road had to show good reason why they did so. The mines and quarries at the end of the road produced a valuable commodity, and the army commander in charge of security was faithful to his duty.
Yahmose and Merye were stopped by soldiers a day out from the marshes. The men were casual, seeing no threat in an old man and a woman, but Merye was still cautious about talking to them. She knew that if they recognised her or her father, there could be trouble.
"Alright, alright, stop right there," the Leader of Five said. "Who are you, what is your home town, and what is your business on the Road?"
"I am Meryem," she said, giving her name a Khabiru pronunciation, "And this is my father Yahmose. We are of the town of...of Zarw, and we travel the road seeking a...a friend of mine."
The officer looked hard at the young woman and did not appear to find the task a hardship. "Zarw, eh? So, who is the judge there?"
"Judge Seti, sir."
The officer grunted. "Who are you going to see, and where?"
"A woman called...Tia. She...she was a friend of my mother, and lives either in Serabit itself or close to it."
"Is she a whore?"
"No! How can you suggest it? She is a good woman."
The officer shrugged. "There is little else to occupy a woman in Serabit itself, which is a town catering solely to the mines and the soldiers guarding it. Perhaps she lives on the coast. There is a town called Khamsoth near the end of the road. Try there first." He waved them on.
They were stopped several more times over the course of their journey down the length of the Serabit Road, but as they drew closer to their destination, the questions by the soldiers became more perfunctory. It was as if they assumed that anyone who made it that far had already been examined and passed by the patrols who had gone before.
Life was not easy on the Road, but the guard posts usually had a shallow well, and the few fishing villages also had a water supply. Food could be obtained at the villages, but it was plain and monotonous. Grain, vegetables, meat and fruit had to be brought in by boat and the cost was high. Fish were plentiful for anyone with a net or line, and most households kept a few scrawny chickens for their eggs and flesh. Yahmose and Merye had nothing to sell to buy food, but many people were generous in giving dried fish, so they survived.
Khamsoth was bigger than the other fishing villages, but it could scarcely be called a town. Its main distinguishing feature was a deep-water pier where Kemetu trading ships could tie up. The ships loaded copper ore, mafaket that pale blue-green rock; and sehmet, the green banded stone both often found near copper deposits. There were perhaps thirty huts that looked as if a stiff breeze would blow them away, some for the slaves who loaded the ore-ships, and the rest for the fishermen who plied their trade here. The village folk were less generous with their food than in other villages as they could more easily sell their catches, but Merye still managed to scrounge some dried fish, a little stale bread, and a thin beer from one of the sailors. She took them back to her father who waited in the shade of some rocks outside the village.
"I have looked through Khamsoth, father, and she is not here. I did not think it likely. This means that if she lives, she is at the mines of Serabit."
"Then let us go there immediately," Yahmose said.
"No, father, I shall go alone. We have only met common soldiers and low-ranking officers on the Road, but at the mines there could be a senior officer who was once stationed in Kemet. If he should recognise you..."
Yahmose laughed. "Look at me, daughter. Is it likely anyone would know me? I cannot see myself, or even you, but I can touch my face and no-one would see a king in this lowly beggar. Besides
, the god will look out for me."
"That is true, father, and maybe your changed appearance is evidence of god's favour. Let me go to Serabit quickly and scout out the place. If she is there, I will find her. Then I will take you to her."
Merye was gone the better part of a day, and when she returned, her eyes streamed with tears. "She is there, father. I saw her."
Yahmose's chin quivered and he staggered. "What did she say?"
"I did not speak to her."
"Why not?"
Merye guided her father to the shade and sat him down, clasping his hands in hers. "Father, she has been as one dead to us for many years. It might be better to remember her as she was, rather than as she is."
Yahmose thought for a while. "No, I must talk with her, seek her forgiveness."
"You did nothing wrong, father. She was the one at fault."
"Even so." Yahmose stood and faced the mountains resolutely. "Guide me to her, daughter."
Merye and Yahmose trod the steep road to Serabit in the early morning, when the road on the western side of the mountains still lay in shade. They met few people, and arrived at the gates of town with the first of the sun's rays. Yahmose felt the heat on his face and immediately lifted his arms to praise the god, but Merye pushed his arms down and hurried him into the town.
"Not now, father. We must not draw attention to ourselves."
The town of Serabit was dominated by a huge slave barracks and a smaller military barracks, now almost deserted as the slaves had been marched to their work in the pre-dawn darkness. Other members of the town were up and about, tending to the many duties of a functioning town.
There was no agriculture in this dry land, not even olives or dates, so every bit of produce was hauled up to the town on the backs of donkeys or men and stored in a great stone building. From here, a quartermaster doled out grain to the bakers and brewers, meat to the butchers, dried fruit and vegetables to the cooks, and soap and water to the laundry maids, while scribes made careful notations of everything that left the store. Merye and Yahmose waited near the entrance of the building and watched as the men and women collected their daily requirements.
"There," Merye whispered, as an old woman emerged, bearing a large jug of water and a bundle of soap. She guided her father and followed the woman as she walked through the town to her house. To woman put down her burdens and went inside, but emerged a few moments later with a basket of washing. Merye stepped out to confront her.
The old woman looked up, her face registering surprise but no fear. "What do you want? I have nothing of value."
"Do you not recognise me?" Merye asked.
The woman frowned and pushed back her grey hair with one hand. "Should I?"
"Eighteen years ago in Akhet-Aten in the land of Kemet."
The old woman started to tremble. "What do you know of those times? Who are you and what do you want with me?"
"Do you not recognise me...mother?"
The old woman stared. "Merye? Meryetaten? Is it really you?" Her gaze fell on the ragged robe and lined sunburnt skin of the younger woman. "No, Meryetaten was a queen."
"I am Meryetaten, though I just go by the name of Merye now." She tugged her father forward. "Have you no word of greeting for my father, your husband Waenre?" The ragged, unkempt man faced the old woman, his blind eyes staring past her.
The old woman's mouth fell open, revealing stained and chipped teeth and she uttered a mewling cry before covering her face with both hands. "No, no, go away, you cannot see me like this."
Yahmose stepped forward, tears streaming, but with a smile on his face. "I cannot see you with these ravaged eyes, but in my mind you will always be the most beautiful woman in the world, Queen Nefertiti."
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Chapter Six
Politics is a game that nations and kings play. It is a game whereby a king may say one thing but do another, striving for an advantage while offering the hand of friendship. The Kingdoms of Kemet and Amurru were locked in battle over the Fort of the Gulls and with it the fate of both nations, yet neither king thought it strange that an ambassadorial delegation from King Arnuwanda of Amurru should choose this time to disembark at the city of Ineb Hedj to pay their respects to the as yet uncrowned king of Kemet.
The Amorite delegation was small, consisting of an ambassador, three aides, as many scribes, and a dozen servants. Ambassador Zumaril was a short, dumpy man with a full black beard, oiled and curled according to the latest fashion, and with several large rings cutting into the flesh of his fingers. His gaze was cruel and the curve of his lips spoke of pleasures shunned by common morality. His aides knew of the ambassador's special tastes and had become adept at catering to them. The scribes were merely scribes, chosen for their ability and loyalty, and the servants likewise knew which hand gave them their daily bread.
One servant was different, and though the fellow was at pains to hide his true nature, the ambassador was aware of his identity. He had called the servant to him early in the voyage and dismissed his aides before opening his mouth.
"I know who you are," Zumaril said bluntly. "Are you here to spy on me?"
"No, ambassador. My task has nothing to do with you."
"What is your task?"
"My lord ambassador, I cannot say."
"Cannot? Or will not?"
The man smiled and excused himself, leaving the ambassador angry but impotent. Since then he had made an effort not to provoke Zumaril, as he knew that the ambassador was capable of having him killed. The knowledge that such an action would bring swift retribution from the Amorite king brought him little satisfaction. He had a job to do.
When the delegation came ashore at Ineb Hedj, officials from the palace brought Zumaril and his aides to accommodation befitting their status, and lesser rooms to suit the lesser station of the scribes and servants. One servant went missing immediately, but none of the others remarked on it to their master. They all felt decidedly more comfortable in the man's absence.
The man turned up at the rooms of the Shechite followers of Lady Khepra the next day and asked to see Lord Khu. Salom and Terrik were hostile at first, recognising the man, but they were persuaded to send for Khu, who duly arrived.
"Ashraz," Khu said, his eyebrows going up in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"I am with the Amorite delegation, Lord Khu."
"Yes, but why are you here? Amurru has little interest in Kemet beyond laying waste to it." He frowned. "Does Horemheb know you are here?"
"He knows the delegation is here but my name is not listed as one of the servants accompanying Ambassador Zumaril." Ashraz scratched his nose. "Unaccountably, it was left off."
"What a lucky thing."
"As I always say, Lord Khu, a wise man makes his own luck."
"Alright, so why did you want to see me?"
"You can get me in to see Scarab."
"That's Lady Khepra to you, Amorite. And why do you want to see her? Last time you saw her she ended up being sold to her enemies by your king."
"Ah, well that is not going to happen this time, is it? Sca...Lady Khepra is already in the hands of her enemies."
"Thanks to you."
Ashraz smiled. "Come now, Lord Khu, I had nothing to do with that. My only duty was to deliver Lady Khepra to Aziru in Taanach. Nakhtmin bought her, and brought her back to Kemet for execution, but instead it was he and Ay who died. Horemheb captured her without my help. Besides, I am aware of her power. I am sure that any time she pleases, her gods will free her."
"Not now that the golden scarab is..." Salom broke off as Terrik nudged him.
"I am sorry," Ashraz said. "You are saying something about Lady Khepra and...?" He waited for a response but both Shechite tribesmen looked at him stonily.
"I can tell her you are here, Ashraz, but she may not want to see you."
"Thank you, Lord Khu. You have my gratitude."
Khu grunted and left the room. Terrik took up
a position near the door and Salom near the window, both men staring at the Amorite with ill-concealed hostility. Ashraz smiled and sat down, making himself comfortable. After a few minutes he leaned back and closed his eyes, giving a good imitation of being asleep. Khu returned after a short time, with a sour look on his face.
"She will see you," he said. "Follow me."
"If it is all the same to you, Lord Khu," Ashraz said, stretching. "Just tell me where her room is and I'll make my own way there. I would rather that Horemheb did not know I was here, and if I was in your company ..."
"I have no love for the man myself. I am not going to lead you anywhere near him."
"Even so, I would prefer to make my own way."
"It is not going to happen, Amorite. There is no way I'm going to let you see her without me being there."
Ashraz shrugged and got to his feet. "As you will. Lead on, Lord Khu."
Khu led Ashraz through the passages of the palace, taking a roundabout route in an effort to disorient the Amorite. At length they approached double cedar doors in the women's quarters, and Khu rapped on the panels and opened one of the doors.
Scarab sat inside, near the window looking out on the desert and towering stone pyramidal monuments. She turned to face the door as the two men entered, offering a small smile to Khu and a questioning look to Ashraz.
"Ashraz the Amorite spymaster," Scarab said. "I never thought to see you again, let alone in the heart of Kemet. What brings you here?"
Ashraz bowed courteously. "Scarab--or Lady Khepra as I now believe you are--it is a great pleasure to see you. I am here in the White City with the Amorite delegation."
"You expect me to believe that King Aziru's personal spymaster just happens to be in the delegation visiting Ineb Hedj? You need a more plausible story than that. Aziru will not be pleased you are so easily found out."
"Let me worry about Aziru."
"He is disguised as a servant on Zumaril's staff," Khu said.
"Indeed, Lord Khu," Ashraz agreed. "I would be a sorry spy if I was what I appeared to be."
"So you admit you are here to spy?"
