by Max Overton
"And he married her? Instead of just taking her as one of his women?"
"Indeed. As I said, he was in love. And you were a product of that love."
"Born of love, but not loved by the gods, else they would not have given me a crippled leg."
"Yet here you are as Lord of the Two Lands. How can you say the gods do not love you?"
"My father was king."
"Yes, Menmire Amenmesse."
"But only king of Ta Shemau, not of the Two Lands."
Bay hesitated. "Strictly, that is true, Majesty, yet he was crowned as King of both kingdoms. It was only because his brother--his younger brother--disputed his sovereignty that he ruled only in the south."
"But I rule both kingdoms?"
"Truly, Majesty. In this you are greater than your father or his brother. It makes you more like Usermaatre or Baenre, both of whom ruled all of Kemet."
"They were warrior kings, Uncle. With my withered leg I am unlikely to be able to fight the Nine Bows."
"Do you imagine they fought on foot with axe or spear? They led their armies from their war chariot, fighting with the bow and slaying hundreds. You can ride a chariot already."
"If somebody drives for me."
"A king does not have to drive his own chariot--that is why there is a royal charioteer."
"I'm not very good with a bow," Siptah confessed. "I only hit a target five times out of ten...maybe six. And then only if I'm on foot. A chariot sways around too much."
"That is easily remedied. I shall instruct the local commander to give you practice in riding chariots and shooting from them. You'll soon be proficient, but even if you weren't, you can still command your army. The men are heartened by seeing their king and fight all the harder."
Bay was as good as his word and talked to Commander Panhesy of the Mut legion. Panhesy arranged for skilled charioteers to offer instruction in all aspects of driving a chariot and caring for its horses, and for his best archers to guide the young king. By the time he left Waset to assume his duties in the north, he could brace himself within a swaying chariot and at least hold a bow and arrow, even if he was not yet capable of releasing the arrows accurately.
***
Three months after the coronation, Tausret called Bay to her and told him of her decision to move back to Men-nefer.
"I commend you on your attention to your duties, Chancellor Bay. I have been kept busy setting up the foundations of good government here in the south, with Tjaty Paraemheb, and have not had the time to worry about the boy. I hear he is doing well in his studies."
Bay bowed. "Indeed he is, Majesty. The king has a fine mind and applies himself to all his lessons."
"He is versed in knowledge of the gods and of the law?"
"He is, Majesty."
"Good. He is scarcely what Kemet needs as a king, but even he will need to know what is happening about him."
"Siptah is not as useless as you believe, Majesty," Bay said. "He has the makings of a good king."
"A king needs to be more than just a priest and a judge, Bay. Once upon a time, the kings would run around the city to prove they were fit to lead the army into battle. Even today, a king is expected to carry the holy paraphernalia in front of the barque of the god on holy days. I cannot see Siptah ever doing that. A crippled king is no king."
"He is young yet, Majesty, and his withered leg can often be overlooked."
Tausret shook her head. "He limps wherever he goes and has to hold onto someone or wield a stick to stop himself falling over."
"Not when he sits in judgment, Majesty."
"When he what? What nonsense is this? Paraemheb conducts judicial business."
"I have had him sitting in judgment on certain minor matters regarding disputes between the Servants in the Place of Truth. They were happy to have the king sit in judgment upon them."
"That was not well done, Chancellor Bay. Siptah may only be holding the office of king open until Seti-Merenptah can ascend the throne, but he will make the throne a laughing stock. He is a child and a cripple and that is why I am regent--so he can remain unseen, in the background."
"He is still the king, Majesty, and his actions by no means bring the throne into disrepute. If you could but see him yourself, you would surely agree."
Tausret scowled. "Very well. I shall come over to the west bank tomorrow and watch him as he plays the king. But be warned, Chancellor Bay, I shall shut his little court down at the least sign of impropriety."
***
Queen Tausret had herself ferried across to the west bank the next morning, and arrived at the Place of Truth without fanfare and with only a single chariot and a single guard for protection. Bay greeted her at the village gate and guided her through to the house of the Scribe of the Great Field where the unofficial court convened.
"Thank you for attending so informally, Majesty," Bay said. "I feared that a large entourage would disrupt proceedings."
"It would also serve to offer legitimacy to his actions," Tausret replied. "I will decide that after I have watched him."
Bay escorted the Regent into the scribe's hall where Siptah sat on a small raised chair, clad in long flowing robes and wearing a small version of the Double Crown upon his head. Their entrance turned heads and stimulated a rush of mutterings as people recognised the Queen. She nodded casually and seated herself at the rear of the room while her guard hovered near the doorway. Bay sat beside her and together they watched the little law court at work.
Siptah looked up from the case he was hearing, and saw the Queen at the back of the room. His eyes widened slightly before glancing at Bay and then back to the men kneeling before him.
"I find for the mason Neb," Siptah said. "Scribe Remaktef, let it be recorded thus."
"As you command, Son of Re," Remaktef said. He made some notations on the scroll in front of him. "The next case is brought by the woman Hoya against her husband Antep. She charges that he hit her in a public place and caused her shame and embarrassment."
"Can the elders of the village not deal with this?" Siptah asked.
"They found for the husband," the scribe said. "So she now appeals to the king."
"And she will accept my decision as final?"
"Yes, Son of Re."
"Then let her put her case."
Hoya stood and offered up her version of events in a straightforward manner, and then sat down again.
"Does the husband dispute her account?"
"No, Son of Re, but he asks that you listen to his explanation." Siptah nodded and the man stood, bowed, and started talking.
"Majesty, a man has the right to discipline his wife when she errs. On this particular day, I came home after a hard day in the Great Field to find that my supper had not been prepared, and that my wife was not even in the house. I found her in the main street gossiping with other women, so I chastised her with a single blow to the face and ordered her home."
"Was a blow really necessary?"
"Yes, Majesty, for she was wilfully neglecting her duty to her husband."
"And what of a man's duty to his wife?" Siptah asked. "Do you not love your wife?"
"Of course, Majesty, but..." Antep flushed and stammered. "With...with respect, Majesty, what has love got to do with it?"
"Does a man who truly loves his wife then hit her? Does he subject her to ridicule and shame in front of her neighbours?" Siptah turned to Remaktef. "Has Hoya offered up an explanation for why the meal was uncooked and she was found gossiping in the street?"
Hoya bounded to her feet, and shot an angry look at her husband and the elders seated nearby. "Majesty, I have already made a defence to the elders and they have found against me, unjustly."
"So make your defence to me, Hoya."
"The fire in my home had gone out, Majesty, so I could not cook the evening meal. I went to my neighbours to beg fire and a little fuel, but as I was pleading with them, my husband rushed up and struck me."
"Antep, did you know of this
?"
Antep flushed again and looked down at the dirt floor of the room. "Later, Majesty," he muttered. "I admitted my fault to her privately but she would not be appeased. She insists on accusing me publicly before my neighbours and the village elders. She now tells others of my behaviour in the bedchamber and I am laughed at and held up to ridicule."
"Hoya, you are not willing to forgive your husband?"
"Yes, Majesty, but what of my injury? He shamed me without cause."
"And you, Antep? Are you willing to forgive your wife?"
Antep shrugged and muttered beneath his breath.
Siptah turned to Remaktef again, his youthful face screwed up into a perplexed frown. "What am I to do?" he whispered. "I would award damages to the wife, but the husband's assets belong to her too."
"I do not know, Son of Re, but whatever you decide will be accepted."
Siptah thought about it for a few minutes. "I am ready to render my judgment," he said at length. "A husband and wife should love each other and neither should seek to shame the other. Antep has erred grievously by striking his wife and Hoya has erred in turn by sharing the secret things of a marriage. I cannot fine one without hurting the other, so you will do this instead. You will both stand in front of the whole village and ask forgiveness of the other for the injury caused and then will swear your undying love for the other. A husband and wife should live only in love and harmony. Do you agree? Hoya? Antep?"
The man and woman looked at each other. Antep grimaced and nodded, while Hoya nodded and smiled.
"Let it be recorded thus, Remaktef," Siptah said.
***
"He handles himself well for a young boy, doesn't he?" Bay asked Tausret quietly.
Tausret nodded. "You have schooled him well, but these cases are trifling, and no doubt you have instructed the villagers to accept his decisions without question."
"What else would you expect, Majesty? This is the king who sits in judgment upon them. Of course they are going to accept his decisions. Would you have it any other way?"
Tausret was silent for a few moments. "No, you are right, Chancellor Bay. We must all act our parts."
"And sitting there he is king in every aspect, wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes. I thought that his withered leg and posture would detract from his demeanour, but you have disguised it well in his flowing robes--and even that small crown upon his head. He even looks kingly, I suppose."
"As he should," Bay said. "He is the anointed king."
Tausret scowled and got up, walking swiftly outside and into the hot morning sun outside the scribe's house. Bay followed.
"Remember he only plays the part of king," Tausret said. "Seti-Merenptah is the true successor of Userkheperure and Siptah merely holds the throne for him until he is of age."
"Not exactly, Regent. Sekhaienre Siptah is truly king, anointed and accepted by the gods. Your infant son will join him on the throne and succeed him, but that does not make that boy in there..." Bay gestured toward the scribe's house, "...any less royal. They are both grandsons of Baenre and descended from the great Usermaatre."
"I dare say I will never be allowed to forget that," Tausret commented. She looked around for her charioteer and beckoned him closer. "I will return to the city. Bay; prepare the young king for the journey north. We leave in three days."
***
Bay watched the queen leave the Place of Truth before turning back to the house with a contented smile on his face. Inside, he found the meeting breaking up and the elders shepherding the villagers out of another door. Siptah looked up as Bay entered and he beamed as his uncle approached.
"I did well, didn't I, Uncle?"
"Indeed you did, Majesty. You learned your lines so well, even I was fooled."
Bay took a leather purse from his belt and handed it to Remaktef. "Distribute that as you see fit, Scribe. The villagers learned their lines well."
Remaktef bowed and accepted the purse. "Thank you, Chancellor. The Servants in the Place of Truth are ever at your disposal." He bowed again, and again to Siptah before withdrawing and leaving uncle and nephew alone.
"She doesn't like me, does she?" Siptah said.
"The Queen? She doesn't know you like I do, Majesty. She will come to accept you, I promise."
"What did she say?"
"She said you behaved in a kingly manner and that she was pleased. Did I not say that I would act for you and seat you firmly on the throne of your father?"
"I wish you were regent instead of her."
"One day, Majesty, if you wish it, but for now we must work to show you as a real king and one worthy of the support of peasants and nobles alike. Once we have the army supporting you we can supplant the queen and you can do as you like."
"But you'll always be there to look after me, won't you, Uncle?"
"Of course, for as long as you need me. You are my whole family."
"Can we go back to the palace now? I'm tired and these robes chafe me."
Bay led the way outside and sent for the king's chariot which was waiting outside the village gates. They rode back along the dusty roads between the Mansions of Millions of Years of former kings, farms and villages, fields and orchards, and came at last to the western palace.
"Be ready for a river voyage," Bay said as the king alighted within the courtyard. "The Queen returns to Men-nefer in three days and you are to go with her."
"I don't want to go, and if I want I'll stay here. I'm the king, aren't I? I like it here in Waset where people knew my father. Nobody liked him in Men-nefer."
"Remember what I said, Majesty. One day you will be able to do as you please, but for now you must obey the regent. I will look after you and everything will be as it should."
Chapter 9
Year 2 of Sekhaienre Siptah
The voyage downriver to Men-nefer was uneventful to start with, but pleasant. Siptah had not been looking forward to it, having been dragged away from the city he identified as being his father's, but his status had changed since his last voyage and now everyone was deferential and sought to please him. The only irritation stemmed from the presence of Queen Tausret, who still treated him as if he was a boy rather than king, and grew impatient if he expressed a desire to go ashore or indulge in a little hunting in the reed beds. At these times, Chancellor Bay would intervene, sometimes persuading Siptah to forego transient pleasures and other times using those very surrenders to extract a short delay.
Siptah had discovered the delights of hunting wildfowl in the reed beds along the margins of the river. The royal barge would put in to a nearby village and commandeer several reed boats or shallow drafted punts. Villagers would fall over themselves in their keenness to serve the young king, poling the boats out into the still waters between the reeds and allowing the king to shoot at the birds with his bow. The king had a withered leg, but that did not affect his arms and, with practice, he had become quite skilled with the bow and the throwing stick.
Dusk was the best time for the hunt when the ducks that had spent the day foraging amongst the fields and irrigation canals, returned to the security of the reed beds. The punts would lie, hidden by reeds on the edges of open water, the occupants sitting quietly and scanning the sky for the return of the flocks.
"There, Majesty." The villager poling the king's punt pointed to the north, where a skein of ducks dropped through the evening air toward the water. Siptah half stood, rocking the little boat, and then thought better of it, seating himself again.
"We wait," he whispered.
The flight of ducks passed overhead, wheeling and returning with honking cries as they scanned the reed beds for signs of danger. Finally, they dropped lower and landed, spraying water. They immediately started preening and flapping as they paddled around in the open water. A dozen pairs of eyes watched them, unseen from the fringe of vegetation, and soon their patience was rewarded. Flocks of ducks appeared, and taking heart from the few already on the water, started their descent.
By the time the ducks had fled that particular patch of water, dead and wounded birds lay scattered over the surface and the exultant cries of the archers rose in a paean of victory. Siptah grinned and pointed out ducks that he had brought down and several small boys, following their fathers out on the hunt, jumped into the water and swam out to the stricken birds. Most held single dead ducks in their teeth and swam back, but one enterprising youth took a small fishing net with him and stuffed it full of birds before dragging it back. Siptah applauded his efforts and slipped a copper bracelet from his arm, pressing it into the boy's hand. Some ducks had merely been wounded and either swam in circles, transfixed by an arrow, or fled for the cover of the reeds. The boys hunted them down and broke their necks before returning to the boats.
The hunters returned to the village and barge and laid out their catch on the riverbank for others to admire. Bay whispered a suggestion in Siptah's ear and the young king received much praise when he declared that the proceeds of the hunt should be shared amongst the villagers as well as the crew of the barge. This act of sharing greatly lessened the amount of flesh available to each person but the village elders brought out vegetables, bread and even some thin beer to add to the festivities.
"You see how the people love you, Majesty?" Bay whispered.
"Just by giving them a few ducks?"
"More than that. They see they have a king who cares about them; who regards them not just as a resource to be used but as men and women in need of the same things as kings. Repeat this act of generosity up and down the kingdoms and the common people will throw their support behind you."