by Max Overton
"I could perhaps accept that," Tausret admitted.
"Well, if we are looking for a temporary king only, then why not go with my suggestion?" Panhesy asked. "Make Menmire Amenmesse king until Seti-Merenptah is old enough to rule alone."
"No," Tausret said flatly. "Do not suggest it again."
"Forgive me, Majesty," Hori the priest said, "but the father would be better than the son to hold the throne open for your child. Menmire has already ruled as king, and he is a son of Baenre."
Ament snorted derisively. "And what would be his first act after being placed on the throne once more? He would kill the queen and her son, reinstate Siptah as heir, and do away with anyone who had ever opposed him. It is a ridiculous suggestion."
"And I tell you it is not going to happen," Tausret said quietly. "I will accept Siptah as sole king under my regency until such time as Seti-Merenptah can rule alongside him, and as long as my son is made official heir immediately."
"Then we are in agreement, are we not, gentlemen?" Ament said. "Are any opposed?" he stared at Panhesy as he asked the latter question.
Panhesy flushed and looked away. The officials and other commanders looked at one another. Some shrugged, others nodded, and Tjaty Hori said, "If it be the will of Queen Tausret, then let it be so."
"It is," Tausret stated.
Chapter 3
Interregnum
Deputy Commander Ament hurried from the throne room when the Queen dismissed her advisers and commanders, and made straight for the docks of Men-nefer, where the fast boat he had come north on waited for him. He showed his identification to the dock officials, and his orders signed by General Setnakhte and countersigned by Tjaty of the South Paraemheb.
"I obeyed the Queen's summons, and now I return to my station in Waset."
The Overseer of the Docks instructed his scribe to make a suitable notation in the scrolls and dismissed Ament.
The sun had scarce moved in the heavens before the boat slipped its moorings and made its way out into the river's current. A north-easterly breeze blew and the little sail caught the wind, heeling the boat over as the master pointed his craft upriver. Ament felt on edge, the recent arguments running through his mind continually, with the conclusions plucking at his heart. There was not enough room on the boat to pace, so Ament settled himself in the bow and tried to lose himself in the beauty of the river.
Although he had made the trip between Men-nefer and Waset many times, his mind drifted back to the first time. Years before, when the dead king had been a boy, Ament had been blackmailed into taking him and his sister Tausret to Waset, in direct opposition to the wishes of King Baenre. The voyage had been free of major incident and in fact had been the first step on his staircase of advancement, but Ament sometimes wished for the simple life of a soldier he had enjoyed before the royal children happened along, or even as a fisherman before that, plying his trade in his father's boat on the Great River.
He had forgotten just how beautiful the river was. A great expanse of dark green water spread out before him, reflecting back the dome of the blue sky and silver shimmers of sunlight. The sail above and behind him snapped in the vagaries of the breeze from the northeast, pushing the boat against the slow current close to the western shore. Now that they had left the city and surrounding farms behind, the land and waters displayed fewer signs of mankind. Reed beds abounded and in the quieter backwaters, water lilies dotted the surface, and the lotus stems crowded the margin between water and land. Herons and egrets stalked the muddy margins, hunting for frogs and small fish, while ducks squabbled and dabbled in large flocks near the reeds.
Away from the water's edge, grass grew thickly, though much of it was matted and bedraggled where the silt from the recent flood still blanketed the low-lying areas. Further inland, tall palms broke up the skyline, and beyond that he could catch glimpses of red desert and the yellow western cliffs.
Balance, he thought. That is what Kemet has--balance between water and land, between the black soil of the river valley and the red sand of the desert. Life and death, gods and man...man and woman, for that matter. That started his mind off on another path, as he remembered the young girl Tausret had been when he first met her and the powerful Queen she had become. I desired her then, and but for the difference in our stations...and now? Ament considered the present situation. I still love her, but she is even further out of my reach.
He looked up at the clear blue sky and noted that the day was further advanced than he thought. They would scarcely be out of sight of Men-nefer by sunset, and they would have to stop for the night. That was no great imposition as Ament carried a writ that enabled him to claim food and lodging at any village or town along the way. If worst came to worst, then he could camp on the riverbank--he had done it before.
They found a village that night, a tiny collection of mud and straw huts. The village elder greeted the visitors and stared blankly at the writ Ament carried, unable to decipher any of the cursive writing on the papyrus, but he was seemingly impressed by the demeanour of the military man and ordered that the meagre wealth of the village be put at the visitors' disposal. Ament thanked him warmly, and in the morning gifted a copper bangle to the headman, worth far more than the food they had eaten.
Another twelve days and thirteen nights were eaten up as the little boat forged its way south against the current. Sometimes the wind blew strongly, other times it died away or backed to the south and on those days they made little headway. At last they reached the great bend in the river and caught sight of the great walls of Amun's City, just after dawn. The walls glowed warmly in the rich morning light and the smell of freshly baked bread carried to them across the water. The boat master guided his little craft through the fishing boats and ferries already plying the river near Waset, and into the docks, where slaves grabbed the ropes and tied them to the wooden mooring posts.
Ament found soldiers of the Amun and Mut legions on the docks and dispatched one at a run to notify General Setnakhte of his arrival, taking some of the others as an honour guard as he made his way up to the old eastern palace where the Tjaty and General resided. He was met on the palace steps by a messenger from Setnakhte bidding him bathe and take refreshment before he met with him in the lesser audience chamber. Ament was grateful for the consideration shown and repaired to his own residence near the City Barracks, where he bathed and took a light meal of freshly baked bread and fatty beef. Then, dressed in clean clothing and wearing the emblems of his office, he reported to the audience chamber.
Setnakhte eliminated the pleasantries of welcome and got straight down to business. "Well, what happened?" he demanded.
Ament greeted the only other man in the chamber--Tjaty Paraemheb--and then his General. "Fairly straightforward, sir. The Council was divided between Seti-Merenptah and Siptah as the next king, either with Tausret as regent. There is little doubt the king's son would have been accepted without question had it not been for his age, but that was the deciding factor." He shook his head. "Siptah is to be king, but..."
"Siptah?" Setnakhte interrupted. "That limping cripple? That mewling brat spawned of a traitor and an Amorite serving wench? Have they all taken leave of their senses? I hope you spoke out for the royal son on my behalf."
"I did sir, but it's not as bad as you might imagine..."
"How can it not be? Do you imagine I'm going to bend my knee to him? The next thing that will happen is his traitor father will be invited to court and he'll become the power behind the throne. What are they thinking?" Setnakhte rounded on the Tjaty. "What do you say, Paraemheb? Am I mistaken?"
"I think you have grasped the danger nicely, General, but I think Ament has more news to impart."
"So, speak, Ament. Don't hold back. Pour the foul decisions of the Queen's Council into our ears."
"Yes, sir. Siptah is to be king with the Queen acting as regent, but Seti-Merenptah is to be made official heir immediately, and co-regent alongside Siptah as soon as he comes of age. Us
erkheperure's son has not been ousted from the succession, nor Messuwy's insinuated into it."
Setnakhte snorted. "And what happens when Siptah father's a brat of his own? He'll want it to succeed him rather than Seti-Merenptah."
"Can't happen, sir. Siptah must vow on the gods to honour the agreement before he is crowned."
"He'll be king. You imagine he won't break even a sacred vow to ensure his family on the throne? I know I would."
"With respect, sir, I don't believe you would. And besides, the Queen will remain as regent to enforce the king's obedience."
"Until such time as the king decides he can do without the restraints of the regency. Ten years at the most, maybe even less." Setnakhte scowled and started pacing the chamber, his sandals slapping the tiled floor and echoing back from the pillars and walls. "Who spoke out for Siptah?"
"Chancellor Bay, as might be expected. Tjaty Hori also, General Iurudef, and Commander Emsaf."
"Those names surprise me. Samut now--I would expect it of him. How did he speak?"
"For Seti-Merenptah, sir. Quite forcefully. If he was ever in support of Messuwy he has changed his heart."
"And everyone else was for Seti-Merenptah?"
"The other Hori, the Hem-netjer of Ptah, and the Chief Scribe Anapepy took no side. They advised, but supported the Queen in all her decisions." Ament hesitated. "Panhesy..."
"The Commander of Mut," Paraemheb asked. "What about him? Don't tell me he refused to take sides."
"Not exactly, sir. He spoke for Messuwy."
"What?"
"He called him Menmire Amenmesse and suggested that, as an anointed king, he was the most suitable person to mount the throne."
"Set's bollocks, I did not take him for a follower of the traitor. The rot spreads deeper than I thought."
"What will you do with him?"
"Panhesy? Nothing. He's a good soldier and an able commander."
"You know your own men best."
"Exactly. You were aware we had a rescue attempt recently?"
Ament stared. "What happened?"
"You know Sethi's deputy, Qenna? Well, Qenna and some men gained entry to the palace, slew the guards and took Messuwy out of his room. They nearly made it to the streets before they were stopped."
"That is not good news, sir. I take it Messuwy is still in custody?"
"I did say it was a rescue attempt."
"So you did, sir. Sorry. Is he...was he harmed in your er...recapture?"
"No, but in light of Panhesy's defection, I rather wish I had 'harmed' him. That man will ever be a centre of disaffection. Evidently, there are still men out there who would see him restored to the throne."
"There is a solution," Paraemheb said. "You cannot restore a dead king."
Ament raised an eyebrow in surprise. "A bit bloodthirsty, Paraemheb."
"Not really, Ament. Have you forgotten he killed my uncle Neferronpet, for no greater crime than loyalty to his king?"
"I'm sorry...yes, of course you wish him dead."
"Regrettably, it is my duty to guard him and protect him," Setnakhte said.
"Even if it endangers the kingdoms?" Ament asked.
"Do you even have to ask? I swore an oath to Userkheperure, though it went against everything I knew to be just and sensible. If I was released from that vow I would kill him without a moment's hesitation. While he remains alive he endangers the Ma'at of Kemet."
"Then look the other way and I will kill him," Paraemheb said. "You agree with me don't you, Ament?"
Ament grimaced. "I dislike the thought of slaughtering a helpless captive, but sometimes it must be done. I think our beloved Userkheperure would have changed his mind about keeping him alive had he lived."
"Had he lived, we would not be beset by the problems of succession," Setnakhte pointed out.
"One could argue that your vow died with the death of the king," Paraemheb went on.
Setnakhte grunted. "Would the gods see it that way?"
"I believe they would," the Tjaty replied. "Ever since my uncle's death I have prayed to the gods for the death of that man. I asked them to send me a sign if I should forget my thoughts of vengeance." Paraemheb bared his teeth in a mirthless grin. "I received no such sign."
"What more do you need?" Ament asked dryly. "Even the gods have withdrawn their support from him."
Setnakhte considered their words. "It would certainly ease my burden if I could lay him in his tomb, but a vow is a vow."
"On the other hand, Userkheperure is a god now that he has ascended to his father Re. If he desired you to stay your hand, would he not have sent a sign to Paraemheb?"
"I could lay this burden on the Queen. Let her decide."
"She will shortly be regent to King Siptah, who is the son of this man," Ament pointed out. "It may be difficult for her to order the death of the king's father." He waited to let the weightiness of his words sink in before adding, "If the decision was taken out of her hands, however, she might well be grateful."
"But if I misread her wishes, she may order my execution."
"There is always that," Ament admitted. "However, we must weigh up the costs and benefits of removing this man. We have seen already that his followers have tried to release him, and now Panhesy of the Mut legion speaks for him. Are we to wait until a rescue attempt is successful before acting? What will the judgment of the gods be if we tip the Two Lands into another bitter war?"
"Siptah will never forgive the killers of his father."
"Do you care? He is a child, and under the control of the regent. Who knows what will happen in the years between now and him becoming sole ruler?"
"Say...just say I decide to remove this man. How is it to be done? I risk unrest in the city if I openly execute him."
"It seems to me that Qenna has provided you with the answer, General," Ament said after a few moments thought. "He tried to rescue the man a little while ago. Surely he will try again."
"I doubt it," Setnakhte said. "He gave my men the slip and is probably in Kush by now."
"The man Qenna is not actually necessary," Ament said patiently. "Only the idea of Qenna. If someone broke into the palace and tried to rescue Messuwy, but oh so sadly Messuwy was killed while trying to escape, who would grieve for him? And if they grieved, what could they do about it. They would perhaps even blame Qenna."
"Ah, I see, but who would play the part of Qenna and actually kill Messuwy?" Setnakhte asked.
"I would," Paraemheb said. "Gladly."
"There is no better person," Ament said. "No blame attaches to you, and Paraemheb secures vengeance for his uncle's death."
"I will need one thing from you though, General."
"What's that?"
"Access to Messuwy. I am known and I cannot just walk into his room with a knife. Your guards are alert after Qenna's attempt."
Setnakhte thought about this and nodded slowly. "I gave them instructions to be cautious."
"So how will you remedy the situation?" Ament asked. "We are agreed Messuwy cannot be allowed to live, and if he is to die it must be before Tausret brings Siptah to Waset for the coronation."
"Or we wait until he goes north again. There is no great urgency."
"With respect, General, there is. What if Siptah demands his father attend his coronation, or even accompany him back north? He might even insist that Messuwy becomes the regent in place of Tausret. What then?"
"It must be soon," Paraemheb agreed. "Every day we delay gives Messuwy another opportunity to escape, or for someone to persuade the Queen to release him."
"All right, I can see that," Setnakhte said. "But I cannot be seen to be responsible for his death. It must come by a seeming mischance."
"When?"
"If I leave the same guards in place, there is always the chance that Messuwy will suborn one--and one may be all it takes to effect an escape. To ward against this, I should rotate the guards regularly, and if by chance some inexperienced men should be on duty...well, these things
happen."
"Where are the guards placed now?" Ament asked.
"Four outside the chambers, another two inside, and four more outside the window. They have instructions to raise the alarm as well as repel any attempts to get to Messuwy."
Ament thought for a few minutes. "Have the men inside join the others outside..."
"Won't that look suspicious?"
"Not if you say that you don't want men too close to the prisoner. Hint that he might offer a bribe. Also, move the men back from under his window. Have them guard the entrances to the gardens, and increase their numbers. It will look as if you have heard there might be a rescue and are guarding against it."
Setnakhte nodded. "That can be done. When would you act?"
"Better you don't know, General."
***
Setnakhte made the necessary changes to the guards the next day and two nights later, Ament and Paraemheb exited from their hiding place in the palace menagerie and looked toward the darkened palace.
"Everything's quiet," Ament muttered. "No guards are in sight."
Paraemheb brushed his clothing down, grumbling. "Did you have to put us in with the animal feed? I'm covered in hay and there were mice in there, I swear."
Ament grinned. "Come now, what are a few mice when the good of the kingdoms is in our hands. I've faced much worse in the field."
"I'm sure you have but you're a soldier and I'm not," said the Tjaty. "My duties are governing this southern kingdom."
"Well now you have a chance to strike a real blow. Are you ready?"
Paraemheb nodded, and loosened the dagger in the sheath at his belt. "Let's do this."
The two men moved quietly through the darkened gardens toward the palace, slipping from the cover of trees to shrubbery while keeping their eyes open for any hint of the soldiers guarding the prisoner. They saw no one and only moments passed before they were outside the low window of Messuwy's suite. Ament peered over the edge, scanning the room swiftly and then ducking back down again.