Fall of the House of Ramesses, Book 2: Seti

by Max Overton

  But my sister Suterere is dead and I cannot be certain that Messuwy, my erstwhile brother-in-law will honour my position. I could render him a signal service, help him to the throne, and still be cast aside. My nephew Siptah would ever be his eldest son, but he is sickly and who knows when the gods may call him to the afterlife. Messuwy is sure to marry again and have other sons and they would inherit if their mother was of higher status than my sister Suterere, so where is my advantage in choosing him?

  On the other hand, why should I choose to stay loyal to the present king of Kemet, Userkheperure Seti? Royal Butler is an exalted position, but how much higher can I reasonably hope to climb? If I was from one of the old noble families of Kemet, or even from a decent Kemetu family among the commoners, I might rise to become Chancellor or Tjaty, but that is unlikely. Too many people look down on my origins, despising any Amorite who attains position within Kemetu society. No, Royal Butler is as far as I am likely to rise. So then, do I remain loyal? What is in it for me?

  The king has gone north, pursuing Retenu rebels and their allied Sea Peoples, hoping to bring them to battle and crush them into the stony ground. He will likely do it too, but for a month or more he will be as far from the southern city of Waset as he is ever likely to get. The news of the king's preoccupation will filter down to Waset, of course, there are plenty of people prepared to share what is common knowledge up here in Ta Mehu in the hope of reward, but few know how to get a message to Messuwy swiftly. I can, for gold from his lieutenant Sethi reaches me at irregular intervals and I send word of inconsequential things south from time to time. By reason of my contacts, the information of the king's whereabouts would fly like an arrow to Messuwy's ears.

  Imagine for a moment that I decide on this course of action. Userkheperure is a month from here even if he could disentangle himself from the enemy at once. Say I send word by the fastest boat to Waset, and beyond, into Kush. Twenty days after leaving here, the message is in Messuwy's hands. He reacts immediately, gathering his forces and marching on Waset, another twenty days, whereupon he takes the city and is crowned king. From here the news flies north by a hundred ways and reaches the king in far-off Retenu in another twenty days. He marches south at once and meets Messuwy's army which is, by now, nearing Men-nefer. Userkheperure's army outnumbers Messuwy's but Messuwy's is fresher, not having just fought a war. The outcome is in the balance, and therein lies part of my problem, the south favours Messuwy and the north favours Userkheperure. The north is richer and stronger, but the south is more fiercely loyal. Which would win? Alas, only the gods know and they are not telling me.

  If Messuwy wins, he is aware of my help and rewards me. If Userkheperure wins, I fear that someone will tell him of my part in the rebellion and I would have to flee for my life. Of course, a single battle may not decide the outcome. If Messuwy wins that first battle indecisively, Userkheperure retreats north to Per-Ramesses and gathers the northern legions to him. If Messuwy loses, he retreats south to Waset and prepares for a siege. The war could drag on for years, but if I could make my way down to Waset, Messuwy would surely grant me a place in his court. But is a possible position at Messuwy's court worth more than my present position here as Royal Butler?

  I must decide, but how?

  I think my decision must rest on my nephew Ramesses-Siptah. The boy is descended from Usermaatre and Baenre, and if Messuwy succeeds in his righteous rebellion, then Siptah's father will also be king. For the sake of the boy, I must hand him his birthright. He is descended from kings and I have it in my power to...well, if not make him a king, at least give him the opportunity to become one.

  There, I have made my decision. I will send word to Messuwy that the time is ripe for him to seize power, to march on Waset and have himself crowned king of all Kemet. Userkheperure is heading north, if I send word now, then Messuwy can start his march by the time Userkheperure first engages the enemy, and he will be king in Waset before Userkheperure knows he has made his claim. Then we shall see what we shall see.

  Chapter 21

  Year 2 of Userkheperure Seti

  Commander Iurudef and the Set legion awaited the king just north of Per-Ramesses and escorted the king to the frontier along the coastal road, relegating the Ptah legion and its auxiliaries to a rear-guard position. Besenmut was visibly upset with his relegation, but could say nothing. Iurudef made the most of it, often riding in the king's own war chariot and discussing the forthcoming punitive expedition. He outlined the latest information he had on rebel movements and the more important dispositions of the Sea Peoples.

  "Commander Emsaf is up near Ghazzat with the Heru legion, harassing the army investing the city. They will have had word that you are on the way and will be in a hurry to take the city."

  "And where is Re?" Seti asked.

  "Disebek is pursuing the rebels, preventing them from joining up with the Sea Peoples. They are like water, Son of Re, dissolving and disappearing into the desert sand as soon as we get close to them. We can drive them though, so the Re legion with a troop or two of the Sets are keeping them busy."

  "What is the strength of the Sea Peoples' army?"

  "Two, three thousand, Son of Re."

  "So Heru, Set and Ptah together will outnumber them."

  "Yes, Divine One. Er, what of the Ptah auxiliaries? Are they trained?"

  "They are learning and will learn faster or die when we attack. It would be wise not to rely on them though."

  "I'm sure we can find a use for them."

  The army advanced up the coast road, past the string of forts that marked the ancient borders of Kemet, and into the occupied territories loosely held by the legions of a succession of kings since the days of Menkheperre Thutmose. The red desert lands, Deshret, already dry and inhospitable far from the life-giving waters of the Great River became more barren and dust, whipped up by strong winds, filled their mouths and nostrils, causing man and beast to choke.

  Iurudef pointed toward the east where what looked like a long low cloud, yellow-brown in colour, slowly advanced toward them. He coughed and spat, turning his back to the stinging sand so he could talk. "We must stop our march, Son of Re, and take shelter. A storm of sand and dust is almost upon us and no army can keep going in that."

  Seti called a halt and ordered a camp to be set up, having his men erect tents and stretch linen cloth between poles to offer some shelter from the wind. Food and water were distributed to the men and the horses were herded into the middle of the camp and surrounded by temporary stables to protect them. The king retired to his tent with his two commanders, Iurudef and Besenmut, and ordered wine to be brought.

  Seti rinsed his mouth with wine and spat onto the dirt floor, wiping his lips to rid them of the gritty residue. "Why do we even bother with lands like these?" he asked. "There can be little of any value in them."

  The two commanders sipped and swallowed, exchanging glances. Seti saw them and waved a hand impatiently. "No, go on, tell me. Except for my brief foray against the rebels last year, this is the first time I've been up here since my father punished them. He never explained why we bothered with Retenu. Can either of you do so?"

  "Well, er, we've always held this territory, Son of Re," Besenmut said. "It's part of Kemet."

  "Then why did we conquer it in the first place? It's dry and useless. The only thing they grow around here is poor quality barley and scrawny goats. Don't tell me we coveted those things when we have such rich farmland by the Great River."

  "Because the Hatti owned it," Iurudef said quietly. "One of their kings with an unpronounceable name enlarged their empire right up to the borders of Kemet and threatened us. We had to take it over or else suffer a hostile army within striking distance of the cities of Ta Mehu."

  "Now that I can understand," Seti said, holding out his cup for more wine. Besenmut poured. "My grandfather Usermaatre even carried the fight to the Hatti as far as Kadesh or even further. He won a great battle there when he was a young man, you know."

&n
bsp; Iurudef hesitated and then decided it would serve no purpose to debate the truth of that claim with the king. "Indeed, Son of Re," he said instead. "And a victory that you will eclipse when you meet the Sea Peoples."

  Seti looked pleased. "I shall relieve the city of Ghazzat and drive the Sea Peoples back into the Sea they came from. How far are we from Ghazzat?"

  "Eight or nine days once this dust storm subsides."

  "Then let us pray to the gods it does so soon, for I thirst for the battle."

  "Sometimes they last two or three days, Son of Re."

  The dry storm showed no signs of abating by sunset, not that the sun was in sight as it descended the western heavens. Instead, the dim light grew dimmer, the gloominess intensifying by slow degrees until full dark fell. Flames were rapidly extinguished by the choking dust and sand, so no camp fires could be lit, though oil lamps could be coaxed into fitful use if sufficiently shielded within a tent. The men ate cold rations, a little dried fish, a handful of dates and a hunk of barley bread, washed down with gritty water. Afterward, most of the men curled up with cloths covering their heads and shoulders and tried to sleep. The Commanders set out guards, though it was unlikely the enemy would be abroad in the night. Visibility was limited to an arm's length in any case, and many of the guards just covered their heads and waited for the storm to ease.

  The sandstorm lasted two days and there was nothing the Kemetu army could do except wait it out in enforced inactivity. Seti grew increasingly fractious and snapped at his commanders whenever they offered any comment. Finally, he was persuaded into a series of games of Senet, though such was his lack of attention, it was all the commanders could do to lose their games.

  On the third day, the winds died down and by midday the army was able to pick itself out of the sand, shake loose the accumulated dust and dirt and form itself into ranks to resume its weary march north and east.

  Seti scratched and pulled at his clothing continually, the sand grains having inserted themselves into every orifice and his skin felt dry and abraded. Iurudef noticed his king's discomfort and offered a suggestion.

  "The men will fight better if they can rid themselves of the sand and dust, Son of Re. The sea is close by; perhaps we could bathe and refresh ourselves."

  The king weighed his options, wanting to relieve the city of Ghazzat without delay, but also recognising his own discomfort and knowing his men were probably worse off. He gave the order to turn aside, and by mid-afternoon the army arrived at a sandy beach in a broad bay. A cool breeze blew off the sea, carrying with it a dampness and salt smell that was, in itself, refreshing.

  The commanders gave the orders, and troop by troop the legions cast aside weapons and clothing and ran into the waves. There were many yells of surprise as some men, reared alongside Kemet's Great River, encountered salt water for the first time. Once the initial shock had worn off, they gambolled and splashed in the shallows, laughing like children. Others were waiting for their turn, so after a few minutes, a troop would be ordered out and another would strip off and plunge into the water. Clothing was rinsed and laid out on the sand to dry, and naked men stood guard in the dunes behind the beach with weapons drawn, eyes cast wistfully at their fellow soldiers enjoying themselves in the sea.

  Seti swam off to one side, accompanied by his legion commanders. Although he could swim quite well, having often disported himself in the river as a child, the huge expanse of salt water unnerved him and he stayed close to the shore. Besenmut swam further out, having spent his youth in the north of Ta Mehu, and had often swum in the sea. Iurudef ventured in no further than waist deep though, fearing what he could not see or understand. Waves surged around his legs, threatening to unbalance him, and he looked around wildly when this happened, crying out that something under the water had grasped him.

  It was too late to move on by the time the legions had washed and dried themselves and their clothing, so they set up camp on the beach, using the water's edge as one boundary and setting up guards on the landward side. Driftwood became crackling, spitting fires, and the army enjoyed a cooked meal for the first time in days. Some of the more enterprising men speared fish in the shallows and enjoyed fresh food. One soldier brought the king a particularly fine fish he had caught and was rewarded with a gold armband worth far more than the fish.

  The crash and suck of the small waves on the sandy beach lulled them to sleep that night, and they woke refreshed and eager the next day. Seti offered up thanks to the Ascending Light, standing atop a sand dune where all the men could see him, and then ordered the rams' horns be blown. The army sorted itself back into ranks, and to the sound of horns and drums, and the cheerful voices of the men lifted up in song, marched away from the shore and back onto the road to Ghazzat.

  The legions had barely started along the road before a small fast-travelling cloud of dust appeared behind them. A messenger chariot raced through the ranks of men who parted to let him through, and up to the king's chariot. The messenger jumped off before it had stopped, stumbling and almost falling in his haste. He bowed, breathing hard, and proffered the sealed letter he carried.

  "Son of Re, an urgent dispatch from Tjaty Merysekhmet."

  Seti had an officer hand him the letter which he opened and scanned. A frown settled on his features and he crumpled the letter in his hand, jumping down from his chariot and walking a few paces away. The commanders hurried from their positions at the head of their legions.

  "Bad news, Son of Re?" Iurudef asked.

  "I will have his liver for this," Seti muttered.

  "Whose, Majesty?" Besenmut asked.

  Seti turned back to face his commanders. "My brother Messuwy. He has come out of Kush at the head of an army and advances on Waset. He means to make himself king."

  "How many men can he possibly have? A hundred? Two?" Iurudef asked. "The King's Son of Kush Khaemter will move to stop him, and the Amun legion will crush him."

  "Khaemter and the Kushite legion have already joined him. Commander Tarkahe of the Abu garrison has done likewise, declaring for him publicly. The Amun legion has deserted. In fact, the whole of Ta Shemau has risen in support of Messuwy."

  The commanders stood silent, digesting the news, then, "Your orders, Son of Re?"

  "I must answer this threat, yet I am loath to turn back from Ghazzat and my enemies there."

  "Even if Ghazzat falls the Sea Peoples will not threaten the borders of Kemet," Iurudef said. "Not yet, anyway. Take your legions and defeat your traitorous brother, Divine One."

  Seti paced back and forth, muttering under his breath. "Who is your second in command, Iurudef?"

  "Ahmes, Son of Re."

  "He now leads the Set legion. They, and the Ptah legion will turn south to meet the new foe. We must hurry."

  Iurudef looked pale. "Son of Re, why have you replaced me? How have I displeased you?"

  Seti stopped his pacing and stared at his commander. "Eh? You have not. I did not explain myself, I need someone senior that I can trust. I want you to pull together the Heru and Re legions left on the borders into a coherent fighting force. Judge whether you can defeat the Sea Peoples and relieve Ghazzat. If you can without endangering your army, do so. If not, then pull back to the line of forts and prevent any from entering Kemet." Seti called for a scribe and dictated a short document making Iurudef General of the North.

  Iurudef bowed low and uttered thanks and prayed to the gods to grant the king a swift and complete victory over his enemies.

  "I'll be back before you know it, General Iurudef," Seti said. "So make sure you leave some foreigners for me."

  The king sprang into his chariot while Iurudef hurried to inform Ahmes of his promotion and Besenmut ordered the Ptah legion to turn their faces toward Kemet once more. Iurudef claimed a single chariot and driver and watched and waited as the army lurched into motion. Before the sun had climbed half way to the zenith, the legions were out of sight of Iurudef. He sighed and told the charioteer to drive east and north to find
the Heru legion.

  Chapter 22

  Year 2 of Userkheperure Seti

  Year 1 of Menmire Amenmesse

  Messuwy's army poured out of Kush two legions strong with over a thousand Kushite tribesmen who refused to discipline themselves by forming military units. They fought as individuals or as small tribal groups and sought mostly plunder. Tribesmen washed over the southern farms, burning, pillaging, killing and stealing as if this was some foreign land they conquered rather than the land of Kemet claimed by their commander. Messuwy was disturbed by their excesses and ordered Sethi to stop them.

  "Can't be done, my lord, unless we want a pitched battle on our hands. Besides, these are farmers technically under the control of the false king Seti. The example we set with them will serve as an object lesson for any of his other supporters."

  "But they are my lands now."

  "So you are giving them as a reward to your faithful followers."

  "I don't like it. I want the support of the people, not their resentment."

  "And you shall have it, my lord, as soon as you are crowned king in Waset."

  Commander Tarkahe opened his garrison at Abu to the invader and knelt before Messuwy, hailing him as king. Two hundred of his men joined the march northward and every town and village they passed through swelled their numbers. By the time Messuwy's army reached the gates of Waset, it was five thousand strong.

  Reports had reached Tjaty Neferronpet and Merenkhons, the Commander of the Amun legion long before the rebel army appeared, and urgent messages and pleas for support had been sent to the king. Nothing had happened, no support had been sent, and now the rulers of Waset had a difficult choice to make. They conferred together, and then Merenkhons, with half a hundred loyal men, fled the city and made his way north, while Neferronpet elected to remain at his post. A small detachment of men loyal to the Tjaty stood guard over the rooms where Takhat, wife of the king, resided.