by Overton, Max
"No."
"I don't suppose you thought to ask casually about the disposition of troops in and around the northern capital, or whether anything was happening in the city?"
"Of course I did," Paramessu snapped.
Seti's face remained impassive. "And?"
"The city legion is under-strength and there have been no official troop movements for months. The only thing the messenger could say with any certainty is that some holy man has been cursing the Kingdoms. He believes that is responsible for the wonders we have been hearing about."
Seti laughed. "I think we can dismiss those ramblings, but the lack of local troop movements, if we can believe that, is indicative the king does not suspect anything."
"That would agree with what my spies say."
"Then I cannot guess what the king wants with you, father. He would scarcely summon you for a trivial purpose however, so you should be prepared. Take a trusted bodyguard and be prepared for a quick flight from the city."
"There may be a more innocent explanation," Paramessu said. "The king is old and he may have his eyes set on the next world. He may want to reaffirm me as Crown Prince."
"Let us pray to the gods for that outcome," Seti said piously.
Paramessu smiled. "But keep my legions close, eh?"
"When will you leave?"
"Tomorrow. You will be Acting Tjaty in my absence. I will have the necessary authorisations drawn up. Keep the legions on alert and ready to move, but you'd better think of a good excuse for Horemheb's spies."
"Menkure has been seen in the western desert but the scouts were unsure whether he was moving north or south of the city."
Paramessu nodded. "Good, you have a reasonable excuse to keep them near the city. Have the barges readied too. I hope it will not be necessary, but it is better to be prepared."
Paramessu sailed on the Tjaty's barge the next morning, but took no more than an honour guard with him, under the command of Paranefer, the legion commander of Amun. If the king meant him harm, a legion would not be enough to guarantee his safety. The one safety measure he took was to take two pigeons in a wicker cage. They had been born and bred in Waset, and on release, would return to their home--or so it was said. Paramessu did not really believe this story, but Seti swore it was true, saying he had it on good authority from a friend of a friend. He even said they could carry a message if you wrote small enough and tied the message to the pigeon's leg.
The voyage downriver took longer than usual despite the willing sailors on the many oars and the use of sails when the wind was in the right quarter. Two dry years had reduced the flow of water and exposed many shallows and sandbars. Crocodiles lurked, ready to pick off unwary sailors who jumped overboard to lighten the load. Paramessu was forced to station archers on the decks to counteract this menace. In deeper pools, p'ehe'mau ruled, disputing the passage of any boat that came too close. These magnificent tusked beasts gathered in herds a hundred strong, ruled by a king. The drought had shrunk their kingdom and dried out the green grass in the fields, leaving them hungry and belligerent. Time and again, the bull king of a herd would attack the barge and its men, bellowing, and not draw back until red blood stained the waters or the barge moved out of range.
The fields along the river stood brown and barren, and the herds were thin and listless. Men from the villages they passed just stared at the barge, and even the children ignored them. The closer to Ineb Hedj they travelled, the worse the situation became, and Paramessu spent hours of each day standing staring out at scenes of increasing devastation. Paranefer stood with him.
"What has happened, sir?" Paranefer asked. "Is it war?"
Paramessu shook his head. "The drought first, and then plagues, if the reports are correct."
"Plague?" The young man's eyes widened.
"No disease. They say the river turned to blood and the land swarmed with first frogs, and then flies and gnats."
Paranefer laughed uncertainly and looked at the water flowing past in turgid eddies. "Blood? That can only be from the gods."
"Yes. One has to wonder what has turned the gods against us."
Two days out from their destination they saw green in the fields again, but the people living there did not look any happier. Paramessu put the barge in to one village and they told tales of rain, which was unusual enough, and then swarms of insects, followed by sickness. Both men and beasts were affected and prayers to the nearby temples did little to alleviate the suffering. Ineb Hedj had the look of a city under siege. Hardly any boats moved on the river, and although the fields across the river were green, it did not lend an air of prosperity or health to the place.
Paramessu directed the barge captain to dock at the royal wharf and when they had tied up, led his small honour guard through the streets. They were met by another detachment from the palace and escorted back to the main audience chamber. Here, Horemheb went through an elaborate ceremony to welcome his Tjaty before the whole court, and to receive Paramessu's obeisance. Once his Tjaty had risen from the floor, the king came down from the throne and embraced him, kissing him on both cheeks. It was then that Paramessu first noticed how age had gripped his friend.
The hair was still thick on Horemheb's head but it was as white as the lotus opening at dusk. His face was as wrinkled as a crocodile's and his eyes peered out from between puffed lids. The king's body was bent and the once great strength of his body and thighs had run out like oil from a cracked jar. Even his voice was weak as he addressed his friend and confidant.
"Welcome, Paramessu, Tjaty of Ta Shemau and Crown Prince of Kemet, my son. Come aside with me now and sit in comfort, for there are things we must discuss." The king led Paramessu through a door into a small, airy chamber and shut the door. They were alone in the room, without a single guard or servant to observe them.
"See how I trust you, Paramessu?" Horemheb whispered. "I have no guards. Would you work me mischief?"
"No sire, how can you think that of me?"
"I know you, Paramessu. I know that you have been training up your legions and that your son Seti sits in Waset awaiting the word that will rip Kemet asunder." Horemheb shook his head. "Do not do it, Tjaty Paramessu. I am not as weak as you think and you would risk all for a meagre reward."
"You call the Double Throne a meagre reward?"
"Taken in blood, yes. Take it rather as a gift from my hand."
"What do you mean?"
Horemheb chuckled and sat on a padded chair near the window. He waved a hand toward a table in the corner and said, "Fetch me a wine, will you? I'd get it myself, but I am feeling a little tired."
Paramessu poured two cups of wine and handed the king one. He sat opposite him and sipped. "What do you mean?" he repeated.
"How is Seti? I hear you have made him a general. Is that because he is your son, or does he have ability?"
Paramessu observed his king for a minute, trying to work out what was in his mind. "He is an able general, but young, less experienced than Neferikare and Iurudef to name two. On the other hand, he is family. So I suppose you could say that both factors played a part."
Horemheb waved a hand dismissively. "What you do in your own city is your own affair, so long as it does not impact on the greater issues of the Two Kingdoms. What of the rebel--Menkure?"
"He is a nuisance, a thorn in the foot, no more."
"Yet a thorn that has pricked at us for twenty years--he and his master before him. What are you doing to kill him?"
"I have built up the legions..."
"Ah, so that is your excuse for creating such a fine army. Here I was thinking you had treasonous thoughts."
"As I said, sire, I have built up the legions and I train them by sending them against the Nubians. Very soon, we will be ready, and then I will catch Menkure and Kashtare and gut the pair of them."
"Do you know who Kashtare really is?"
Paramessu shrugged. "No, though I think it is unlikely he is who Menkure says he is. Even if he is, he is a
t heart an uneducated tribesman, not a king. It does not matter, he will die anyway."
"Your wife is well?"
"Tia is well, sire, though she misses her family in the north."
"Seti has a family, does he not?"
"Yes. He married Tuya, daughter of Raia. They have a son Ramesisu, and two daughters, Tia the eldest and Henutmire."
"All healthy?"
"Yes, sire. May I ask why all these questions about my family?"
"I cannot ask after my friend's family without a motive other than interest?"
"You are Horemheb. When did you do anything that was not thought out and weighed in the balance?"
Horemheb smiled and nodded. "Well, you could be right. Tell me, Paramessu, what were the strengths and weaknesses of Nebmaetre's line?"
"Sire?"
"The previous king, the one whom I succeeded. Forget the official history for a moment and tell me where he was a strong king, and where were his failings."
Paramessu considered the question while attempting to see what was in the old king's mind. "He was descended from strong kings, he had a...a good sense of where Kemet stood among the nations. He had a strong army and a full treasury."
"What of his children--his descendants?"
"The eldest son, Tuthmose, was the best of them. If he had been king instead of the heretic...well, he died, so...Smenkhkare and Tutankhamen were weak, and Ay was wicked, though he was only the Queen's brother. Apart from them, daughters only, and weak ones except for...except for Scarab."
"Yes, you have it, Paramessu. One strong son plucked away early and a steady degeneration. After that, only daughters--Akhenaten had six with Nefertiti, and two...or was it three with his own daughters? Smenkhkare had none, and the boy fathered a couple of stillborn girls. The line was played out, finished. Kemet needed another royal family, another dynasty, to rule it."
"You, King Horemheb," Paramessu said politely.
"You know as well as I that I am only a caretaker king. I hoped that my wife Mutnedjmet might...but the gods decided otherwise. No, I am a caretaker, the strong support of the next royal family."
"You mean me, sire?"
"Of course I mean you. You are Crown Prince, are you not? The only reason I have not pushed that fact more is that I needed to see whether your line was strong enough." Horemheb smiled. "It is. You have an able son and a strong grandson. The dynasty is assured for three generations. What more could I ask for?"
"Why now, sire? What has happened to start you thinking of these things?"
"I am no longer a young man, Paramessu, and my health is failing. You have twelve years on me and I have need of a younger man's strength."
"We come to it again," Paramessu said quietly. "What do you mean?"
"I want to raise you to the throne to rule with me now. Seti becomes King's Son of His Body and Crown Prince, and Ramesisu will follow him on the Double Throne in due course."
Paramessu shot to his feet, spilling his wine. "King now? Immediately?"
"In a few days. As soon as we can make suitable arrangements. I do not want it said I skimped on the proceedings."
Paramessu walked to the window and looked out, drawing deep breaths of the warm air. When he turned back to face the king he could not hide a grin of triumph. "King Ramesses. It has a nice ring to it."
"Indeed it does," said Horemheb. "But remember, you will still be junior to me, which means you defer to my judgment in a dispute. Can you handle that?"
"Yes...what title do I give you as co-ruler?"
"Just keep on using 'sire'. Now before we make the announcement, I want you to know what you are landing in the middle of. We have a holy troublemaker in our midst."
"What, not Scarab?"
"What made you think of her? No, the troublemaker is the prophet of a new god, one Yahmose," Horemheb said. "The god is a Khabiru one and seems to have real power. The plagues of blood, frogs and flies result from his displeasure."
"Seems to me you could just kill this prophet and the problem would disappear."
Horemheb watched his friend, a small smile on his face. "The man Yahmose is actually Akhenaten, returned from the dead."
Paramessu stared back at the king. "You smile, so this is a joke at my expense?"
"I smile because of the expression on your face, nothing more. The man really is Akhenaten and he is accompanied and protected by Scarab."
"God's balls. Wait...protected? I thought she had lost her powers."
"She had. She has evidently regained them. Now do you see the problem? Not only am I dealing with plagues, but I face two anointed kings of Kemet. I cannot just kill them, even if I could. At the moment, Akhenaten is keeping his identity secret, but if it comes out, I need to be able to show a viable alternative to the old way. I need to have strong, vigorous kings descending from my rule. Then there will be no popular support for this prophet. They can rant and rave on my doorstep all they want, but we will just ignore them."
Paramessu considered this news for several minutes. "That makes sense. Scarab's powers were always defensive. Ignore her and she is powerless. It will be a contest between two failed, weak kings from the past and two successful, strong kings from the present. I have no doubt who will win."
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Chapter Thirty-Nine
Yahmose returned from the hill with his face almost glowing with religious fervour. Jesua, Abrim and the other Shechites trailed after in silence, their faces showing fear and awe. They came to the town of Iunu, but Yahmose refused to go further, declaring the place to be unholy and filled with the clamour of demons. The others must come out to him, he declared. Some of his followers went in and found the other members of the Pillar, but Yahmose would say nothing until Scarab arrived. In the end, Merye had to go to the temple spiral looking for them and returned later in the day.
"Greetings, brother," Scarab said. "Did you speak with your god?"
"Yes, he talked to me."
"He spoke in the thunder," Jesua said, "And in the lightning stroke and the great wind. We all heard Yahweh speak, but only the prophet Mose could understand the Word of God."
"Mose?"
"No man may bear God's Name within his own. I am Mose now."
"As you will, brother. What did your god say to you?"
"He bade me stretch out my hand over Kemet and bring disease to livestock and people. He bade me journey to the court of King Horemheb once more and demand that he let the Khabiru go."
"As Yahweh commands, so let it be," Jesua and the Shechites chorused.
"I think the stretching out of your hand is a little late, brother. Look around you; can you not see that disease has already taken hold? Where the flies and gnats bit, sickness follows."
"Then the power of Yahweh is already at work," Mose said complacently. "I go now to command the king. You are welcome to come and see the outworking of divine purpose, sister."
They set off along the road to Ineb Hedj once more, Jesua and Abrim keeping close to Mose, and Salom and Khu walking with Scarab. The other Shechite tribesmen spread out around them, creating a defensive cordon against other travellers on the road. The effects of disease were everywhere, cattle sick and dying in the fields, the villages resounding to the cries of the sick, and the wails of the bereaved. Khu did what he could for the afflicted in the villages they passed, but the scale of the outbreak was far beyond the capabilities of one man. Scarab also used her power to save several in the first village they came to; healing with a touch, but the effort exhausted her quickly. Thereafter, she limited herself to saving the children, though many were left as orphans.
The fisherman who had ferried them over the river the time before was still plying his trade and willingly took them over to the White City again. He spoke of the ravages the disease was taking among the people he knew and their livelihoods.
"They got it worse in the city. The House of the Dead can't keep up and many are taking their loved ones to the desert and j
ust burying them in the sand."
"Then for their sakes, we must hope the king listens to reason," Jesua said. "The remedy is in his hands."
The city streets were, if anything, quieter than when the houses had been locked up against the flies. Few people wandered the dusty streets, and almost everyone they saw had painful looking boils and lesions on their bodies. The common people ignored the small band of men and a woman walking up toward the palace, but the soldiers did not. Scarab and Mose were quickly surrounded and escorted to the Hall of Justice.
Inside the Great Hall, Horemheb sat on the ornate throne of the Two Kingdoms and Paramessu sat beside him on the Queen's Throne. Courtiers, nobles and soldiers watched in silence from the edges of the hall, leaving an open space in front of the thrones. Scarab and Mose entered, with their companions close behind, and walked into the open space. Once more, they neither knelt nor offered up tokens of submission.
"What is it you have done to Kemet?" Horemheb asked.
"I have done nothing," Mose replied. "You have done this, with your stiff-necked attitude. The Lord God says to you, 'Let my people go'."
"We have been over this before," Horemheb said. "I am willing to let the Khabiru leave Kemet, but they must leave their wealth behind."
"That is not acceptable."
"Who are you to dictate terms to the King of Kemet?" Paramessu asked. "How dare you come in here and insult him so?"
Mose regarded the other man on the dais. "Who are you?"
"That is Tjaty Paramessu," Scarab said, before Paramessu could open his mouth. "One of Kemet's foremost generals and heir to the throne. What are you doing up here, Paramessu? I thought your post was in Waset."
"Paramessu is no longer my Tjaty," Horemheb said. "Instead, he has ascended the throne to rule as Ramesses alongside me. The coronation is tomorrow. I would invite you, but you will be unable to attend, either being far from here or in prison. Your choice."
Scarab laughed. "I am willing to be far from here, Horemheb. Just give the order to release the Khabiru and you will not see us again."
