The prisoners and hostages had disembarked the evening before at Ipet–resyt’s quay in the town and had spent the night just outside its walls, under guard. They were already walking the three miles to where we waited, following the processional path south. I could faintly hear the musicians who were leading them, the high–pitched flutes, the low throbbing of drums. The two processional ways were lined on both sides as far as I could see with spectators – townspeople, craftsmen from across the river, farmers, priests – nearly everyone from miles up and down the valley. Nothing like this triumphal celebration had ever before occurred in the Two Lands, and no one wanted to miss it. I heard silver trumpets and cheers, then the first of Thut’s three army divisions came into view – Re, by the banners fluttering in the breeze at its head. The soldiers reached the intersection of the processional ways and turned crisply east, directly towards us, the sun in their faces. They marched smartly, proudly, eight abreast, sunlight glinting on swords and spears and helmets. Officers led the way, and as they reached Thut’s pavilion they pivoted to the right, marched on a bit farther, then took position in long ranks on the south side of the square, a perfect position from which to observe the rest of the ceremony. Thut and Djehuty stood and saluted the troops as they passed. I saw Ahmose and Amenemhab and all the other commanders I’d come to know so well, and waved to them. Amenemhab inclined his head and smiled. I suspected the officers, and the men they led, could hardly wait for the ceremony to be over, for Thut was going to supply them and everyone in Waset with beer and food at its conclusion.
“Amun gave me all the allied countries of the North, shut up in one city,” Thut told his family and the dignitaries who clustered around him. “I snared them there and built a palisade around them from which they could not escape.” He turned to Mahu. “I’m going to erect a stela in Amun’s temple, setting forth upon it the story of my victory, and detailing the plunder I carried away.”
“Very good, Majesty.”
After Re’s division came musicians, women dressed in white skirts, with flowers in their hair, playing flutes and pipes and drums and shaking menat necklaces. They were just ahead of hundreds of porters bearing baskets and containers crammed with the plunder Thut had accumulated during his campaign, and herdsmen driving some of the livestock he had taken.
Intef, the royal herald who had accompanied Thut to war, stood to one side of the pavilion, consulting a scroll. His task today was to describe the spoils of victory for the spectators. “First, the treasure of Megiddo,” he cried.
Chariots rumbled past, pulled by fine horses. The first two were wrought with gold, with poles of gold; Thut had given me one of them and I would take it with me to the Faiyum.
“The chariots of the kings of Kadesh and Megiddo,” cried Intef. “Just some of the 924 captured by His Majesty in battle.”
Horses came next, the finest of those we had taken. We’d left many behind in Retenu for the use of Thut’s army when he next campaigned in the North.
“Six stallions, 2,041 mares, 191 foals,” reported Intef. Then livestock: “Two thousand sheep, 1,929 cattle, 25,000 goats.”
“Two hundred suits of armor, including that of the two kings.”
“The tent of Durusha, King of Kadesh, and his household furniture.”
“Durusha’s royal scepter, a silver statue of his god, and an ebony statue of himself wrought with gold and lapis lazuli.”
“Chests of gold and silver.”
“A chest containing 83 enemy hands.”
“Seven poles of mry wood, wrought with silver, and 502 bows.”
There was a short gap, more musicians, more porters.
“Plunder from Yenoam, Nuges, and Herenkeru,” Intef proclaimed.
Those were three towns Thut had swiftly captured just days after Megiddo’s surrender, on his way north to build the garrison that would secure the road for future trade expeditions.
“Flat dishes of costly stone and gold.”
“Various drinking vessels, three large kettles, 87 knives worth 784 deben.”
“Four hundred twenty–six pounds of gold and silver in rings.”
“A silver statue with a head of gold.”
“Six chairs of ivory, ebony and carob wood, wrought with gold, six footstools, six large tables of ivory and carob wood, a staff of carob wood wrought with gold and costly stones, a statue of ebony wrought with gold, the head inlaid with lapis lazuli, vessels of bronze, clothing.”
The porters stacked the treasure to one side of the pavilion. The herdsmen drove the animals towards a vast grassy field beside the river to graze. A group of priests, some sprinkling the processional way with water, some censing it, appeared next. They were accompanied by chantresses in sheer dresses, singing and playing crotal bells and shaking menat necklaces. Behind the chantresses came more heavily–laden porters.
Thut stood and addressed Mahu in a voice all could hear. “Amun has given me a great victory, such as no king of the Two Lands has ever had before!” he proclaimed. “On my way home, I stopped at Mennefer and granted an endowment from my treasure to the temple of Ptah, and ordered that it be rebuilt on a far grander scale. I stopped at Iunu and endowed the temple of Re, and ordered its expansion. But for Amun, I will do even more.”
Porters began piling a plethora of ebony and cedar chests at the foot of the dais.
“These chests contain gold, silver, costly stones, vessels of gold from the towns in Retenu. I will use their contents to make Ipet–Isut the most magnificent temple in all the world. I will modify some of what was built by kings before me. I will erect brand–new pylons and obelisks and shrines and courtyards and temples. I will dig a sacred lake for priests to bathe in. When I am finished, no man now alive will recognize Ipet–Isut for what it once was.”
The high priest bowed low.
“Within a month I will begin constructing a temple of millions of years at Ipet–Isut for my fathers who have come before me, the kings of the Two Lands, in which their names will be established, with new offerings and statues in unprecedented quantities. It will be called Akh–menou – ‘Brilliant of Monuments’ – and it will for all time confirm the legitimacy of the kingship and its perpetuation. I have given my temple much thought – it will contain an ancestor room showing me making offerings to the 61 kings who have come before me, beginning with Sneferu and all those who came after him whose legitimacy is undisputed.”
By that, I assumed Thut was not going to include Hatshepsut’s name in the temple.
“Akh–menou will contain chambers dedicated to Sokar, the god of Mennefer associated with kingly regeneration. My temple will link me with my royal and divine ancestors, and thus guarantee the regeneration of our royal function. The walls will also depict my Heb–Sed festival, and my renewal as king in that ceremony.”
“I will speak with the foremen in charge of construction in the Place of Truth about this temple in the morning,” Hapu assured Thut.
Thut nodded. “After Megiddo fell,” he continued, “I captured three more nearby towns. To maintain Ipet–Isut in splendor, I grant them and all their future income to Amun. Further, I grant Amun extensive lands throughout this valley, and I will stock those lands with the herds I’ve taken from the Nine Bows. And to work Amun’s new estates, I will assign many of the prisoners I have already taken and will take in my future campaigns.”
I stole a glance at Sitiah. She was smiling even more broadly than the high priest. As God’s Wife of Amun, she would control everything Thut had just granted to the god. Iset was smiling too, for she controlled Sitiah.
“Some day the Amun priests are going to be more wealthy than the king if Thutmose does not restrain himself,” Nefer whispered to me, “especially if he builds his empire and the amount of tribute increases. I wonder if he’s given that any thought.”
Whether he had or not didn’t matter, I supposed, for he’d already embarked on that path.
“Finally, the three Feasts of Victory we are celebrating to com
memorate the fall of Megiddo will henceforth be celebrated annually. They too shall be endowed from the spoils of my victory.”
That drew rousing cheers from the crowd. Who didn’t like a holiday, after all?
As Amun’s treasure was being cleared away, the archers of the Ptah Division came up the processional way, led by their commanders, the men mounted on prancing horses, bows and quivers slung over their backs. Thut and Djehuty saluted them and they moved to the side of the square opposite Re’s division.
They were followed by Menwi and her several hundred retainers, some her ladies, some her slaves. I myself had bathed and dressed her this morning, explained what was going to happen, tried to keep her spirits up as much as possible. But she was clearly afraid, overwhelmed by the vast, hostile crowd. Megiddo may have been a large town compared to others in Retenu, but it could not match Waset in population or splendor. I knew she’d never seen so many people at once in her life. Many jeered Menwi as she passed them, because of what she represented. She looked out of place, foreign; at Thut’s command I had dressed her one last time in the clothes and jewels of her homeland. She’d never wear any of them again. I caught her eye as she approached and smiled, but she did not return it. Menwi’s cheeks were streaked with tears. She’d vowed beforehand to be brave, to endure her humiliation as befit a king’s wife, but she hadn’t been able. She was so young and inexperienced. I stole a glance at Iset. She was watching the girl haughtily, with satisfaction.
Menwi stopped before Thut and fell to her knees, her eyes focused on the ground before her, her body shaking with silent sobs.
Unexpectedly, Thut rose from his throne and descended the dais to where Menwi knelt. He raised her to her feet. Her eyes rose to his, surprised, wondering. He brushed the tears from both of her cheeks with his fingers. I heard Iset’s angry gasp.
“This is my wife, Menwi,” Thut announced loudly to the crowd. He nodded. Mahu moved to his side and placed the vulture crown on her head. Thut took Menwi’s hand and together they ascended the dais. Then Thut turned her to face the crowd. “By our marriage we have sealed the alliance between Kemet and Megiddo.”
The spectators cheered.
Thut led Menwi to an open chair next to Nefer, just in front of me, and seated her. Menwi’s tears now were of joy, and she was smiling through them. Clearly, Thut had developed a true affection for her, and had done what he could to make up for how he’d had to display her this day. I wished Thut and Nefer could reconcile as easily as Thut and Menwi seemed able. Thut returned to his throne.
“The royal hostages from Megiddo,” Intef announced, as the last of Menwi’s retainers filled an empty space in the square and the next group appeared.
Naunakht led the way, unbowed, striding beside his mother and just ahead of his young sisters. Following them were the wives and children of more enemy chieftains. They were all barefoot, most sullen and frightened, the youngest crying, their hands bound before them with rope, flanked by Medjay bearing shields and carrying long spears.
“His Majesty carried off the wife of Durusha, King of Kadesh, together with his children, and the wives of the other kings and chieftains who rebelled against him, together with their children. They will live in Kemet as hostages, to ensure their towns never rebel again.”
Another gap, then more hostages similarly restrained from the three towns Thut had taken after Megiddo.
“Forty–three elite warriors, 87 children, and 1,796 male and female slaves to service the other hostages,” Intef called.
“What will you do with these hostages, Majesty, and the ones that have come before?” Useramun asked.
“The majority will work my fields and those of the gods, or become slaves in the houses of my officials,” Thut replied. “But the sons of rulers – I’ll educate them as if they’re my own children. I’ll make them like us. I’ll make them forget their own lands. I’ll make them loyal to me, not their own fathers. And when their fathers die, I’ll send them back home to rule. The bond between them and me will be unbreakable.”
“It will take many scribes to teach so many,” the vizier observed.
“Not scribes,” Thut said. “The education of the hostages will be overseen by my minor wife, Neferure, in the royal harem I will build in the Faiyum. She’ll be assisted by my Great Companion, Meryetneith.”
I was surprised by and ecstatic at Thut’s announcement. I put my hand on Nefer’s shoulder and squeezed it. I wondered if he’d gotten the idea watching me work with Naunakht and his family during the siege, and Menwi and other hostages on the journey home. And to assign their education to Nefer… a truly vital task… that was promising.
“Them?” Iset cried. “You can’t be serious.”
“I assure you I am, Mother,” Thut said evenly. “Neferure knows how to run such operations. Mery speaks the hostages’ languages – all of them. Both know my mind, my ambitions for Kemet. There are no two anywhere in Kemet more qualified to teach. And they, in turn, will learn much from these hostages about their countries that may prove useful to me someday.”
“You can’t know that.”
“What they learned these past years from caravanners and boat captains and slaves and traders proved of much use to me in my campaign against Megiddo,” Thut said. “The subject is not open for discussion.”
Iset flounced back in her chair, scowling.
I leaned forward and whispered in Nefer’s ear. “A victory over Iset. Have you known for long?”
“His Majesty swore me to secrecy last night. He didn’t want Iset to find out before he proclaimed it publicly. I promised him we’d educate the hostages, that we’d raise them as if they’re our own children.” Nefer looked off into the distance. “Which is true for me, at least, Mery. They’re the only children I’ll ever have.”
“You don’t know that, Nefer,” I said sympathetically.
She smiled ruefully. “I’ve accepted that I’m barren, Mery. I’ve prayed to the correct gods, drank the proper potions, worn every fertility amulet that exists, lay with Thut night after night at Megiddo – and nothing. And so I’ll never share His Majesty’s bed again. There’s no point to it. We’ve both agreed.”
“I’m truly sorry.”
Nefer shrugged. “Don’t be.”
But how could I be anything but sorry, not just for her, but for myself? Now the path to my marriage with Thut was impassable. We’d agreed we’d marry after Nefer gave Thut a son. But if she’d never have a child… Should I go ahead and marry him now, since Nefer and I would never have children to compete against each other, which had been my primary concern? But what if I gave Thut a son? What if Amenemhat died, and my son became heir, and I became the mother of a future king and Thut’s Great Wife? Nefer would be devastated. It would be the ultimate betrayal on my part. My head was suddenly spinning. I’d considered the possibility of Nefer being barren before, but hearing her declare it, knowing she’d given up having a child, made it real. I had absolutely no idea what Thut and I were going to do.
“It’s an important task he’s given you, Nefer,” I said, ignoring my own problems and my now–pounding head. “Thut’s going to build an empire. These hostages will be the foundation of his imperial organization for generations to come. You’ll continue to affect the welfare of Kemet long after none of us is still alive.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But it is a good excuse for His Majesty to keep me far from Waset.”
“Why would he want that?”
“Despite his great victory at Megiddo he still fears me, Mery. He’s afraid that if I stay here in Waset the Amun priesthood and bureaucracy may yet rally around me and overthrow him the next time he takes the army on campaign. I don’t doubt for an instant that by now he knows exactly what you did at Yapu – the entirety of it – and knows that many in the army realize not only how close the two of us are, but how close you and General Djehuty have become. His Majesty fears his commanders would not oppose me if I took the throne with the support of priests and off
icials and you. So, until he can tighten his grip on everyone, he finds it better to keep me – and you – far away, out of mind, where in time we’ll be forgotten.”
I leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “If there’s one thing I know for certain, Nefer, it’s that you’ll never be forgotten.”
After the hostages came the final army division, Amun’s, the men slowly driving their chariots. Between its first and second sections came 340 prisoners we’d captured in the battle before the walls of Megiddo. They were tied to one another in three long lines. Their beards were matted, their hair hung in heavy black masses upon their shoulders, and they were clad in gaily–colored yet filthy woolen stuffs, a huge contrast to those of us who observed them in our spotless white linen. Their arms were either pinioned behind them at the elbows or crossed over their heads and lashed together. The hands of some had been thrust through ovals of wood, which served as hand–cuffs. The few women among them – no doubt their wives – carried their children slung in a fold of a mantle draped over their shoulders. The wretches were the subject of jibes and merriment on the part of the watching multitude.
“Many of these prisoners will be ritually executed today at Amun’s temple,” Intef announced to the crowd. “They will be tied to stakes. The king will smash their skulls with his mace. So will the king honor Amun, his father. Those the king allows to live will spend the rest of their lives in service to Amun, on his estates.”
The prisoners were prodded past the pavilion by Medjay wielding lances. Some were forced to continue on through the gate of the pylon, no doubt the ones that would be lashed to the wooden stakes that had already been set up in the courtyard beyond. The lucky few, those who would spend the rest of their lives laboring for Amun, were moved to one side.
“Will you rule from Waset or Mennefer hereafter, Majesty?” Useramun asked as another gap in the procession appeared.
“Mennefer, mostly. Though I suspect I’ll spend considerable time on campaign from now on.”
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