Fall of the House of Ramesses, Book 2: Seti

by Max Overton

  Tausret recounted with a laugh our trip from Men-nefer to Waset when we were children and spoke fondly of Ament, saying that we both owed him our lives and that she was glad to be able to offer him a secure position as captain of the palace guard in Men-nefer. She must have seen my expression, for she stopped her reminiscences and asked me why I looked out of sorts. Was it something to do with Ament?

  "I gave him a task that removed him from the palace. He is taking slaves to the mines in the Timna Valley in the Land of Sin."

  She frowned and thought for a moment. "Well, I suppose it will do him good to get out of the palace for a while. How long will he be gone?"

  "Er, well, there was no instruction for him to return."

  "So he's out in this wilderness, under the impression you have banished him? How could you? You know we are in his debt."

  I drew myself up and looked down my nose at my wife. "You may be in his debt, and a young boy many years ago might have been, but the King of Kemet owes nobody."

  "You gave him to me, husband."

  "Nonsense, I just assigned him to your service."

  "Then bring him back. Send word immediately for his recall."

  I shrugged, pretending nonchalance, but knowing myself in the wrong. Ament had made me feel small when I was a boy, though perhaps not deliberately. Even so I had, I admit, borne him a grudge. That hurt had motivated me to omit his recall from my instructions, but now I saw that such spitefulness was beneath me. A king should rise above such slights, whether real or imagined.

  "I will send the recall when we return to Men-nefer in a month or two. Ament will resume his place in your service and I will have nothing to do with him in future."

  I have to admit it made me feel good to please my wife, especially as it cost me nothing. While she was in a good mood, I decided to ask her opinion on how I could make myself more loved by the people of Waset.

  She considered this for a while, staring out of the window at the dusk falling over the city. The noise of the day was on the wane, and the cooking fires in a thousand houses raised thin curls of blue smoke, while the scent of frying fish and herbs overcame the usual stink of the streets.

  "It seems to me; husband," she said at last, "that you cannot compel people to love you. You can order them to obey you, to offer up taxes and to bow before you, to fear you even, but not to love you. That must be freely given."

  "So there is nothing I can do?"

  "I did not say that. You must give them what they need."

  "What people want is a bottomless well," I grumbled. "I could drain the treasury and still not satisfy people."

  "I did not say to give them what they want but what they need. Any man or woman, rich or poor, needs food, shelter and to feel secure. Increase the grain ration, lower the cost of mud bricks, and honour the gods so they smile upon us all."

  I thought about Tausret's words. They made sense, and would cost little to implement, or at least the grain and bricks would. Building temples was a costly business, but I was already committed to that.

  "There is one other matter, husband, though I hesitate to tell you."

  "Speak without fear, Tausret."

  "You excluded Waset and Amun in your coronation names. I feel that might have been a mistake."

  "How can it have been a mistake to glorify Re? I am Userkheperure Setepenre, Powerful are the manifestations of Re, the Chosen One of Re. I will not insult Re by dropping his name from mine."

  "I do not suggest that," Tausret said, "but you honour three gods in your name, Re twice, and Set and Ptah once each. You could easily make it four by including Amun."

  "Changing one of the names of Re?" I asked, feeling slightly disturbed at the thought.

  "It is just a thought, husband. Change Setepenre to Meryamen, beloved of Amun. I believe the people of Amun's City would be delighted."

  "I will think on it," I said.

  I did, and also consulted with Neferronpet, the Hem-netjers of Re and Amun, and in the end, made the announcement that henceforth I would be known as Userkheperure Meryamen. I was heartened by the enthusiastic response of the people. Perhaps my troubles in Waset are at an end and support for my brother will now fade and die.

  Chapter 16

  Year 1 of Userkheperure Seti

  On Zephan's advice, Ament and the two slave boys had left the camp and journeyed east then north, finding a place of temporary refuge among the sandstone pillars and jumbled rock of a spur of the valley's north wall. They were challenged as they left camp, encumbered by water skins and some food, but Ament merely hinted that he wanted a quiet place in which to interrogate his prisoners.

  "I would not want to disturb the camp with their screams for mercy," he said with a laugh.

  The guards had joined in the laughter, and Ament made a show of pushing and shoving the boys until they were out of sight. Then he cut the ropes binding them and they made haste to reach the designated spot where they could shelter from the fierce heat of the sun and rest up before their journey. Zephan had told them he would meet them shortly after moonrise and that they must be prepared to travel until sunrise. By then, they must be under cover and far enough away that patrols sent to look for them would find no trace.

  Ament spent most of the day in a state of anxiety, certain that men were on their trail already. He sheltered under an overhang part way up one of the sandstone pillars, shading his eyes as he scanned the rough terrain for any sign of pursuit. The two boys huddled together a few paces away, whispering to each other until they fell asleep in each other's arms. Ament woke them as the sun touched the hills at the head of the valley and encouraged them to eat some bread and a few dates, to drink sparingly from the water skins.

  The sun set swiftly in a blaze of orange that deepened to red and purple light before leaching from the sky as the body of Nut spread over the landscape. The stars blazed in a clear sky and the temperature dropped, leaving them shivering in their thin clothing. Ament descended from the pillar and the three of them huddled together for warmth, not daring to try lighting a fire.

  "H...how long d...do we stay h...here, master?" Ephrim asked, his teeth chattering.

  "Until moonrise. Zephan said he would meet us here."

  "When's th...that, master?"

  "I don't know," Ament admitted. He got up and paced about, swinging his arms to generate a bit of body warmth, looking toward the east for any sign of the rising moon. The north took his attention too, for that was the direction they would likely take, and was perhaps the direction from which Zephan would come.

  After a long time the moon rose, silver and cold, casting shadows over the desert. Where everything had been uniform shadow, now the very light that spread over sand and rock created deeper shadows, black pools where anything could hide. Ament stared out into the night, but there was no sign of Zephan, and he felt his spirits sink. If he failed them, Ament would have to chance the road to Eilah.

  Something cried in the night, a high-pitched quavering call, and Jerem whimpered. Ephrim murmured soothing words, but the tremor in his voice betrayed his own fear. Ament felt uneasy too, but knew he could not show it. He fingered the sword at his belt, knowing it would be almost useless if some demon or savage beast attacked. The call came again, farther off, and Ament breathed a sigh of relief. The only sounds now were the quick scurry of tiny feet on the sand, and the chirp and buzz of insects.

  The moon had risen well above the eastern horizon before they heard sounds moving toward them. Ament signed to the two boys to keep quiet and they hunkered down in the shadows, their eyes wide, holding their breath. A shadow moved, then another one, and a third.

  "Hsst. Honoured sir, are you here?" a low voice called.

  "Zephan?"

  "I am here, sir, with two donkeys. We must hurry."

  Ament stood and moved out of the shadows. "I was expecting you at moonrise."

  "My apologies. I ran into a patrol and had to wait until they had moved on." Zephan grinned, his teeth gli
mmering faintly in the moonlight. "Are the boys here too?"

  "We are here," Ephrim said softly. "May the gods bless you, master."

  "Well, they might," Zephan conceded, "but not before we have got you to safety. Come. We have a long way to go before daybreak."

  Zephan loaded a boy onto each of the donkeys, distributing the weight of water and food in panniers about their unprotesting bodies.

  "We can walk," Ephrim said.

  "Later," Zephan replied. "You are weak still, and can ride while my donkeys are fresh."

  They set off to the northeast, Zephan leading the two donkeys tied in single file, with Ament bringing up the rear. Their path led between a maze of eroded sandstone pillars before they emerged into a broad expanse of open sand and jumbled heaps of rock. Zephan led the party into a shallow dry streambed that wound its way toward the valley sides, visible only as a slash of blackness unsullied by the pinpricks of stars. When the streambed vanished, they crossed a slight ridge and found another one leading in more or less the same direction.

  The night passed, the moon reaching its zenith and slipping down the western sky as if fearful of the sun that paced behind it, though still below the horizon. Zephan stopped and looked back the way they had come, and then off to the east. Ament looked too, wondering if the tribesman had caught sight of pursuing soldiers.

  "The dawn comes fast," Zephan said, "and we are too exposed here. We must hurry. Boys, get down. You must run now so the donkeys can match your pace."

  Zephan set off again, now with Ephrim and Jerem each holding the halter rope of a donkey, and Ament encouraging the pace by flicking the rumps of the donkeys with a branch snapped off a low shrub whenever their pace faltered. The escarpment at the side of the valley drew closer, but the sun came faster, lighting up the eastern horizon in shades of pink and yellow.

  Ament slowed abruptly and looked up, startled, realising that they were now ascending scree slopes where rock, assaulted by wind and freezing temperatures, had been fractured from the sandstone cliffs and dropped toward the valley floor. His eyes rose higher, following the slope to the towering cliffs.

  "There's no way forward," he cried out. "We can't climb those cliffs."

  "Trust me," Zephan called back. He started moving across the loose rock and just as the sun burst over the horizon, stabbing the tops of the cliffs with a golden light that slid rapidly down to meet them, Ament saw a slash in the rock, a gap where torrent waters had once burst through. Into the gap they slipped, stumbling over boulders and clambering up a steep slope, suddenly in shadow once more.

  Zephan called a halt, and the weary boys sank to the ground, their chests heaving with the effort. "We can rest here," the tribesman said. "We have shade and no one will see us."

  They rested, eating a light meal and drinking the tepid goatskin-flavoured water from the water flasks. Zephan fed the donkeys some hay from one of the panniers and doled out some water. Then the boys curled up and slept, and the men dozed in turns, the other sitting in a shaded place where they could scan the valley floor spread out before them. The sun rose higher, bringing heat with it, and flies attracted to the pungent odour of donkey droppings buzzed and settled on lips and eyes of men and beasts. They woke, ate and drank again, though sparingly, and lay down again, a draping of thin cloth keeping the flies off their faces.

  When Ament woke to take his turn on watch in the early afternoon, Zephan pointed out a thin cloud of dust to the south.

  "Soldiers?" Ament asked. "Are they after us?"

  "Very likely," Zephan replied.

  "Coming this way?"

  "I first saw them around noon, travelling east toward the Eilah road. Now they are coming toward us, and at the rate they are moving, will be here by sunset."

  "Then we must go," Ament said, rising to his feet.

  "Soon," Zephan agreed. When Ament remained standing, he added, "They have been running through the heat of the day and will be tired by the time they reach here. By that time we will be at the top of the cliffs, refreshed and ready for a night march. They will not catch us, sir."

  "Enough of the 'sir'," Ament grumbled. "Call me Ament."

  Zephan grinned. "As you wish, Ament."

  The pursuing soldiers were appreciably closer by the time Zephan was prepared to move. The tribesman carefully scooped up all the donkey dung and put it in a small cloth bag, adding it to one of the panniers.

  Ament nodded approvingly. "I should have thought of that. Remove the traces of our presence and they might look elsewhere."

  "Other men know of this cleft," Zephan said, "and we have left enough footprints to guide even a blind man to us. However, we now have too great a start for them to catch us providing we keep moving. I picked up the dung because when it dries out it can be used as fuel."

  The dry bed of the torrent stream became steeper and narrower, but there was still room to scramble up and haul the donkeys after them. In places, Ament thought it looked as though a path had been gouged out of the sandstone, and he realised that this was a well-used trail connecting the valley floor with the desert beyond. Toward sunset, they emerged onto the top of the cliffs and stood doubled up, gasping for breath for a short time. Zephan and Ament moved cautiously to the cliff edge and peered over, quickly spotting the pursuing soldiers as they started up the loose scree toward the cleft.

  "They have moved faster than I thought," Zephan said with a frown. "They will be at the cleft before sunset and may try to scale it before dark. We must leave immediately."

  The two men hurried back to where the boys and donkeys waited, and Zephan urged them west and north, angling away from the cliffs. The terrain was undulating, mostly sand and low rocky outcrops, and Zephan kept them to low-lying areas as much as possible. Dusk came on, swiftly plunging the desert into darkness before they saw any sign of pursuit. Zephan called a halt and they ate and drank something while they waited for full darkness. He oriented himself by the stars and moved off once more.

  Their pace was necessarily slow, but Zephan had been this way before and guided them easily between boulders and eroded sandstone bluffs, across expanses of sand and loose rock. Later, when the moon rose, they were able to move faster, and by the time the sun rose, they were far from the cleft, surrounded by red desert as far as the eye could see. Zephan found them a shallow shaded patch under the overhang of a large frost-split boulder.

  "Sleep through to late afternoon," Zephan said. "We have to make a push to reach the next water source."

  "Will the soldiers come after us?" Ament asked.

  "Not if they're sensible. The next well is three days away."

  Ament looked at their own depleted water skins. "Have we got enough water?"

  "About a day's worth." He saw the expression on Ament's face and smiled. "Don't worry; I know something the soldiers don't." He would not say any more, just wrapping himself in a cloak from one of the panniers and falling asleep.

  "Master," Ephrim whispered a little later, while Jerem watched wide-eyed. "I heard what Zephan said about the water. Are we gonna die of thirst out here? I mean, I sorta would rather die out here of thirst than beaten to death as a slave in the camp, but I'd rather not die at all, if you know what I mean."

  "We're in Zephan's hands," Ament said. "He knows a lot more about the desert than I do. If he says not to worry, then I won't."

  Ephrim thought about this and then said. "I think I might pray to my gods anyway."

  "Couldn't hurt," Ament murmured. "Now get some sleep."

  The sun was sinking fast in the west when Zephan woke them, and the heat was already dissipating into the cloudless sky. The tribesman doled out some food and allowed them each a mouthful of water before they resumed their journey. In the last of the light, they reached a great expanse of sand with a low range of hills just visible on the other side.

  "That is where we must be before the sun rises," Zephan said, pointing.

  The sand dragged at their feet as they walked, sapping their strength. Zepha
n led them onto a ridge of sand and along its length, counselling them not to walk too close to the unstable face of the dune. Jerem did not listen and with a despairing wail fell over the edge and tumbled down the slip face, ending up buried to his waist in the loose sand. They dug him out and struggled back up to the ridge again and after that they were all careful where they put their feet.

  "We have lost too much time," Zephan said. "Now we race the sun, and if we lose that race, we face death." He urged them on and set a fast pace.

  Despite the urgency, Zephan stopped frequently to give them a moment to catch their breath and also to realign their march, orienting himself first by the stars and later by the rising moon. They slogged on through the sand, and consumed the last of their water just as the eastern horizon turned gray. Ahead of them, the range of hills loomed high, and Zephan nodded in satisfaction.

  "I think we might make it. Come."

  The sun was burning down on them by the time they reached the hills, and Zephan led them along the rock face where it rose precipitately out of the sand. Their strength was fading, and their mouths were parched before Zephan pointed to a shimmering green hue at the base of the rock ahead of them. As they approached, the donkeys lifted their heads and sniffed before ambling faster. The light wind shifted, and now Ament and the boys could detect a cool and delicious smell on the breeze.

  "Water?" Ament croaked. "I thought you said there weren't any wells out here."

  "There aren't," Zephan replied, "but in a good year there are sometimes soaks."

  The green resolved itself into a grove of thorn trees, scrawny shrubs and lank grass clustered around a tiny pool of greenish water. By the time Zephan and Ament arrived, the boys were vainly trying to pull the donkeys out of the pool to stop them churning it into a muddy mess.

  Zephan laughed and told them to leave the donkeys and follow him. "The water comes from the rock, and it is purer at its source."