by Max Overton
"Greet your wife and children, boy, and then bring these strangers into my tent." He turned on his heel and strode back into the shadowed interior.
Zephan embraced his wife Sarai and hugged his children. Ament remembered Zephan telling him he had children but could not recall if he had said anything about their gender. He could not be sure if these two children were boys or girls as they were equally swaddled in voluminous clothing. Zephan squatted and allowed the children to climb all over him, chattering all the while in their own language, while his wife stroked his head. After a little while, Zephan told his wife and children to leave, and ushered Ament, Ephrim and Jerem into his father's tent.
They trooped in and sat in the places pointed out to them, and then Jochim studied them intently while Zephan explained the circumstances that brought these strangers into his father's tent.
"You are a Kemetu army officer?" Jochim asked Ament, with his son translating.
"Yes, my lord."
"There is no need to call me 'lord'; I am simply the father to my family."
Zephan translated again and added that a more suitable honorific would be 'Sa'ner' which meant 'father' in the Shechite tongue, though not simply the head of one's own family but rather a man of renown.
Ament bowed from the waist and said, "I am honoured to be received into your tent, Sa'ner."
"What is a man of Kemet doing stealing two young boys from the camp in the Timna Valley?" Jochim asked. Zephan started to say that he had already told his father of the reason, but Jochim held up a hand. "I would hear it from his own lips."
"Sa'ner, I was...I was horrified to see the treatment of the boys at the camp and determined to release them."
"But they are slaves, aren't they? Is this not how slaves are treated?"
Ament grimaced. "Slaves are worked hard, it is true, but they...they should not be beaten or starved."
"Slaves in Kemet are not beaten?"
"Yes, Sa'ner, but...but not boys."
"Truly?" Jochim looked surprised. "I have heard otherwise."
Ament struggled with his conscience and then said, "It is true boys are beaten, Sa'ner, but no boy should suffer abuse at the hands of grown men. This older boy..." he pointed at Ephrim, "...asked me if I could rescue his younger brother who was to be made use of by the guards. I could not allow that so I took them."
"And having taken them, made my son Zephan help you. You realise he can now never go back to Timna?"
"I am sorry for that, Sa'ner. I was going to try for the Eilah road but Zephan dissuaded me. I did not mean to involve him, get him into trouble, but he saved our lives."
Jochim ruminated for a while and then turned to the young boys, lapsing into a rough trading language that could be understood by Kanaanites.
"This man speak truth? You boys abuse by Kemetu soldier?"
"We was going to be, noble lord," Ephrim said, kneeling in front of the chief. "Least ways, me bruvver Jerem was 'cos he's young an'...an' he heard the guards talking 'bout him. I was in the copper smelter camp an' just got beaten."
"What do you want? That this man takes you Kemet? You serve him?"
"He be a good man, noble lord. Jerem and me, we talk it over 'cos we thought first we escape an' try go home, but our village burnt, family killed an' he good to us, so we stay his slaves." Ephrim shrugged. "He won't do nuthink to Jerem, an' I don't think he beat us too often."
"Ament, what do you intend for these boys? Will you take them back to Kemet as slaves?"
"I've got no use for slaves, Sa'ner. I'm a soldier, plain and simple."
"So you will sell them when you get home?"
"I, er, hadn't really thought that far ahead..."
"They might be worse off under another master than if they stayed here."
"Here?" Ament asked. "In the Shechite camp?"
"I would allow that if they wanted it. You would have to agree, as their master."
"I'm not their master...not really...but if that's what they want, I agree."
Jochim addressed Ephrim again. "This man Ament say he no use for slaves in Kemet. He maybe sells you other master. Or you stay here with Shechites, no slave but work hard as servant. What say?"
The two boys discussed it in low voices, and Jerem burst into tears. Ephrim shrugged and turned to the chief. "We thanks you, noble lord, but, well...Jerem wants to stay with him. I ain't going where he ain't."
Jochim smiled and nodded. "Ament of Kemet, you will take the boys back with you to your home and you will care for them or else you will not return to your home at all."
Ament had Zephan explain that last bit to him at length, and then grimaced. "It seems I have no choice," he grumbled. "Well, I can take them with me, but exactly what I'm going to do with them when I have to go off to war, I don't..." He paused as a thought occurred to him. "My sister Ti-ament and her husband own a small vineyard in Ta Mehu. They could live there, with them."
"If the boys agree."
"All right," Ament agreed.
"Swear it, on your gods," Jochim said.
Ament swore an oath, binding himself to looking after the boys when they were back in Kemet, or letting them stay with his sister, but insisted on adding a proviso. "I am only Captain of the Palace Guard, a mere soldier. If the king or Tjaty, or a superior officer orders me to do otherwise, I must obey."
"Even then you will do your utmost to ensure their safety," Jochim countered.
Ament sighed and nodded. "Agreed." This whole exercise was proving to be a lot more trouble than he had anticipated when he first thought about removing the children from their enforced captivity. He could not see any way around it, so he swore to protect them as Jochim wanted. It surprised him that he felt so good about his decision after he had given his oath.
Jochim next made arrangements for his youngest son Zephan to take a companion and guide Ament and the two boys across the trackless waste of the Land of Sin. After three days of fattening up and securing sufficient supplies, they loaded up four donkeys and set out, travelling slightly north of west toward the nearest well. Zephan explained that without a guide, someone who knew where the wells and soaks lay, a man would quickly die of thirst. They carried food for a month, though the fare would be rather monotonous.
"I can arrange for you to replenish your stocks of food for the return journey," Ament said. "Once we reach the rich farmlands of Ta Mehu, there will be an abundance of food."
"I thank you, Ament," Zephan said, "but I shall not be accompanying you into Ta Mehu. Once we reach the Black Land I shall bid you farewell."
"But you must let me offer you the hospitality of my land, just as you and your father have offered it to me."
"Alas, my friend, not all in your lands would welcome Shechite men." Zephan would not explain further, so Ament had to let the matter rest there.
The boys spent the trip being boys, a pastime interrupted by the Kemetu army's descent on their village and their months of captivity. They roamed widely, investigating anything within sight of the donkey caravan, chattering non-stop, or throwing stones at anything they saw. During the rest periods and after the evening meal, they would hunt lizards or scorpions among the rocks or listen attentively to stories the men told, wrapped in cloaks around the camp fire. Afterward, they would fall into an exhausted sleep and not even the eerie calls of jackals and owls could disturb them.
The Land of Sin, stony, sandy and dusty passed slowly beneath their feet, the sun baking them by day and the clear skies sucking the heat from their surroundings at night, leaving them shivering and huddled together around a camp fire. Days passed, stretching out to a month, and toward the end of their journey, as they neared the Black Lands, they happened upon military roads and patrols of Kemetu soldiers. Here Zephan led them away into the wilderness, taking the long route around where they would encounter no one. Ament said nothing, though he believed he could have used his rank to secure them fresh provisions and comfortable beds at night. He knew that the Shechite tribesman must ha
ve his reasons for avoiding other Kemetu, so did not object to the thousands of extra paces added to their journey.
At last, stony desert passed by degrees into scrubland, and then into pasture. When they encountered the first cultivated fields and villages, Zephan stopped.
"We must part here, Ament my friend. I can go no further."
"It pains me that we must say goodbye," Ament said, "for I would like to offer you my own hospitality, but I know you have your reasons."
Zephan embraced Ament, and then each of the two boys who cried as they parted. The other Shechite tribesman, Orran, who had kept to himself the whole way, nodded and cracked a small smile as he turned the donkey's heads and started back toward their desert home. Zephan gave Ament a last embrace and lifted his hand in farewell.
"May your gods smile upon you, man of Kemet."
"And yours upon you, man of Shechem," Ament said. He put his arms around the shoulders of the two boys and turned them away, facing the west whence came a breeze laden with moisture and the odours of livestock and growing things. When at last he turned his head to look back, Zephan had disappeared from sight, lost in the scrubland that bordered on the Land of Sin.
Ament found a small village nearby and, using his name and rank, secured some fresh food for the boys. I was nothing fancy, bread and a few vegetables, but it was a lot tastier than the meagre fare that had been theirs since leaving the Shechem camp. They continued on and a day later reached the bank of one of the branches of the Great River. Ephrim and Jerem were amazed that this amount of potable water could even exist and happily splashed in the shallows while Ament kept an eye out for crocodiles.
A copper armband, Ament's last article of any value, enabled them to hire a fisherman to take them upriver toward Men-nefer. An added benefit was fresh river-caught fish fried over a small fire every night with wild herbs and the remnants eaten cold the next day. Every turn of the river, every reed bed or patch of weed, every swirl of the water, the herds of lowing cattle in the pastures and farms where ploughed fields burst with growing plants, wheat, barley and millet as well as onions, lettuce, radishes and melons, amazed the Retenu boys and they continually exclaimed in wonderment. This truly was the land of the gods, they said.
Two days later they caught sight of the city of Men-nefer with its high walls blazing white in the morning sun, the river lapping at its feet crowded with small boats, and people, small in the distance, thronging its wharves and docks. Ament grinned, looking forward to a soft bed and some decent food, perhaps even some wine.
"What will become of us, master?" Ephrim asked, staring wide-eyed as they drew close to the burgeoning city.
"Eh? Oh, you'll be all right. I'll have you looked after by one of the palace overseers while I inform Tjaty Merysekhmet of the abuses taking place in his name. Once that's all sorted out, I'll see about getting you up to my sister's vineyard."
The boat docked at one of the lesser wharves as, unnoticed, a swift messenger boat drew out into the current and raised its large sails to catch the northerly breeze. Ament kept the boys close as he led them through the crowded streets to the palace, trying not to let them get distracted by the sights and sounds and smells that bombarded them on every side. Aromas of spices and fresh-baked bread, roasting meats and freshly brewed barley beer made their mouths water and stomachs grumble, and Ament smiled once more in anticipation.
"We'll get a good meal inside us first," he told the boys.
They arrived at the palace and Ament spoke to one of the guards on duty, telling him to send for an overseer. The guard stared at him and then frowned.
"Captain...er, Ament? The...the Tjaty is...he is to be informed of your arrival."
"Well, do so then, but by the gods send for an overseer at the same time. My stomach hasn't seen decent food in over a month...and I'd kill for a draught of rich wine."
The guard sent messages via servants and indicated a small room that Ament and his companions could wait in. Ament looked thoughtful as he waited and tried to engage the guard in conversation, but without success. A little time passed and Ament was trying to decide whether to wait or just head through to the kitchens when the tramp of footsteps outside the chamber announced the arrival of one or both of the parties the guard had sent word to.
A squad of soldiers entered the chamber, an officer bearing the insignia of Captain of the Palace Guard, Ament's own position, entered. The soldiers ringed Ament and the boys, hands on their swords.
"Ex-Captain Ament, you are charged with desertion and..."
"Neferhotep? It is you, by the gods. Did they make you Acting Captain?" Ament smiled and raised his hand to clasp the other officer's arm, but Neferhotep stepped back, his face impassive.
"Ex-Captain Ament, you are charged with desertion and theft of His Majesty's property. Tjaty Merysekhmet orders you to be incarcerated pending his pleasure. Come with me now."
"But I haven't...this can't be right...wait, please."
"I am merely following orders, Ament," Neferhotep said. "You know how it goes. Either come willingly or by force. Your choice."
"I demand to see the Tjaty."
"You will, when he's ready for you. Now, are you coming or must I order my men to take you by force?"
Ament went, if not willingly, at least without resistance, and the boys went with him.
Chapter 19
Year 2 of Userkheperure Seti
The messenger boat that had left the docks of Men-nefer as Ament arrived sped south, the captain of the small craft cramming on every bit of sail he could. The usual voyage to Waset took ten days, even with a fair wind, but Tjaty Merysekhmet had promised the captain and owner a whole deben of gold in addition to his normal fee if he could reach Waset within eight days and the captain meant to collect that extra fee.
The landscape slipped steadily by, while the captain kept his eyes open for the smallest vagary of the wind as evidenced by ruffled water, making adjustments to the set of the sails. Cliffs on both the east and west banks influenced the direction of the winds and the captain often tacked back and forth across the wide expanse of water, trading extra distance for a stiffer breeze. When night fell, he did not put into shore until well after dark, and was always on his way again before first light. If the northerly wind fell, he took out his sculling oar and made slow progress along the shore where the current often eddied and helped him on his way.
Waset came in sight near sunset on the seventh day, and the captain grinned in delight, thinking of the fine tomb furnishings he could buy with his extra gold. He tied up at the city docks by the light of flickering torches and the official messenger, grasping his message pouch, importuned two Medjay, paying them to escort him to the palace. Once there he dismissed his escort and bade a servant carry news of his arrival to the king, saying he carried urgent dispatches.
He waited while the king ate his evening meal and then was shown into the small audience chamber where Seti, his wives Tausret and Takhat, and Tjaty Neferronpet awaited him. One of the soldiers escorting him through the palace was Commander Merenkhons and he stayed after dismissing the other guards. The messenger advanced on the throne, deeply bowing with his arms outstretched in supplication.
"I bear messages from Tjaty of the North, Merysekhmet, O Son of Re. He greets you as Lord of the Two Lands, Divine Father, Great One, and Priest of Every Temple, and asks that you read his humble words. Son of Re, your servant has carried this message on the wings of the wind so that Your Divine Majesty might..."
Seti hardly listened to the long and involved phrases uttered by the official messenger. He had heard them innumerable times and knew better than to interrupt the flow. The common people needed to express these sentiments if only to remind themselves that the king, God on Earth, was set high above them and could intercede for them with the gods. Seti's attention was still on the fine supper he had just eaten, and the shred of goose flesh that was caught in his teeth. Sticking a finger in his mouth to prise loose the offending morsel was be
neath his dignity, so for the time being he had to content himself with ineffectual probing with his tongue.
He became aware that the messenger had stopped talking and was holding out a sealed letter. Tjaty, Commander and wives were looking at him expectantly. Clearing his throat and trying to recall if the messenger had said anything of importance, Seti signed to Neferronpet to take the sealed letter proffered by the bowing man. As the Tjaty's fingers lifted the letter, the messenger straightened, stifling a sigh of pain, and stepped back before bowing again and exiting the chamber.
Neferronpet broke the seal on the letter, unfolded it and scanned the writing, his lips moving as he formed the words. His face tightened as he read, and when he finished, he read it again and frowned.
"Well? What does it say?" Seti asked, finally sneaking a finger into his mouth and snaring the piece of goose flesh with a fingernail.
"The men of Retenu have rebelled again and joined with some of the Sea Peoples. An army has marched on Ghazzat, looting temples and killing officials. The Governor of Ghazzat asks for your help."
Seti swore, suggesting things that the Retenu rebels should do to each other. Takhat looked shocked, but Tausret merely raised an eyebrow and allowed herself a small smile.
"What will you do, Son of Re?" Neferronpet asked.
"Do? What do you think I'll do? I have to answer this act of rebellion and smartly, before other tribes think they can rid themselves of our presence."
"It is not a good time to be leaving Waset, Majesty. Changing your throne name to Meryamen has increased your popularity, but there is still unrest in the city."
"Nothing that you can't handle, Neferronpet, together with the loyal Amun legion. Stamp on the troublemakers if you must, do anything necessary to preserve the peace, but I need to go north."
"Let it be as you say, Son of Re," Neferronpet said. "When will you depart?"