Fall of the House of Ramesses, Book 3: Tausret

by Max Overton

  On the evening of the second day, the perimeter guards reported the approach of two men, and I prepared to receive the messengers I had sent forth. Instead, Ephrim and Jerem entered my tent under guard and fell to their knees before me.

  "Why have you come here?" I asked. My voice threatened to break with emotion and I took a deep breath before I continued. "You betrayed the faith I had in you by deserting your posts."

  Ephrim stretched out his arms in Kemetu fashion and entreated me. "Harden not your heart toward us father, for we have not betrayed you or Kemet. Hear instead what we have to say and then judge us."

  I nodded, not trusting my voice, and signed for them to continue.

  "Father, you know that we were born to the Hashimite tribe of the Retenu, before we passed into captivity and thence into your service where you did us the honour of raising us as your sons. We regard you as our father, and should you cease to regard us as your sons we would wish to die."

  Jerem echoed the sentiments of his brother.

  "Go on," I said.

  "We recognised one of the fallen Retenu as being a distant relative, and thus knew that we faced remnants of the Hashimite tribe."

  "Why did you not tell me this?" I asked. "It might have affected how I fought the rebels."

  "Forgive us, father," Jerem said. "I reasoned that we could achieve more by contacting our family, and I convinced Ephrim that we should try."

  "It is as my brother says," Ephrim said. "We left in secret, knowing that you would prevent us going..."

  "Yes, I would have. It was a foolish risk to take."

  "But we made contact with Jethanah, a cousin and leader of the Hashimites, who is one who rebelled against the hard-hearted Kemetu governors. Father, we have persuaded him that talking to you may achieve more than force of arms. Were we wrong?"

  I stood and looked at my sons, for they were indeed as sons to me, no matter what their origins. "You were not wrong," I said, "for I have this day sent out messengers to the rebels to bring them to the bargaining table."

  "Come with us, father," Ephrim said. "We will take you straight to Jethanah that you might resolve this rebellion without further ado."

  I nodded. "I will talk to him. Bid him come here without fear and..."

  "Father," Jerem interrupted, "he will not come here for he mistrusts the Kemetu."

  "He knows I am an army commander and envoy of the king? Does he doubt my honour?"

  "He knows only the false tongues of the Kemetu governor of this region. In his eyes, all Kemetu are the same. He bids you come to him if you have truth in your heart and seek justice for all."

  "Where then would you have us meet?"

  "At the rock that looks like a lion, half a day east of here, at noon tomorrow."

  "I know it," Troop Commander Penre said. "We can throw a cordon around the area if we move tonight. By noon we will have him in chains."

  "No," I said. "I will meet him with only my sons for company...and perhaps a scribe to take down our words if we should reach agreement."

  "Sir, you cannot trust this Hashimite dog..."

  "You forget my sons are Hashimite. I trust them and I trust the word of their tribal chieftain if they will vouch for him."

  "We do, Father," Ephrim said. "Jethanah has given his word that you shall come to no harm if you come in peace."

  And so I did. You may suppose I had taken leave of my senses to trust my safety to two boys who had suddenly remembered their tribe, and to their chief who had already displayed his lack of loyalty by rising in rebellion against us. Well, maybe I had, but maybe I had little to lose. I could continue trying to bring the Retenu to battle, or I could seek another path to my destination. Siptah and Bay had made it plain that disgrace awaited me in Men-nefer if I failed in my mission, so if death awaited me at the hands of Jethanah, then death was preferable.

  We left the camp the next morning before daybreak in four chariots, one each for me, my sons and an army scribe. As the sun approached its zenith we reached the vicinity of Lion Rock, dismounted, and approached the landmark on foot. Jethanah and a handful of his men were already there, nervously awaiting our arrival. My sons effected an introduction and lessened the tension somewhat, reassuring the rebel leader sufficiently so he felt safe enough to dismiss his tribesmen. We talked, and I found Jethanah a reasonable man driven to an act of rebellion by, if his accusations were correct, the crimes of the Kemetu officials set over him. I had been given power to negotiate terms, so I did so, and by sunset the rebellion was essentially over.

  Chapter 22

  Year 3 of Akhenre Siptah

  Commander Ament returned the Set legion to their station at Iunu and made his way swiftly down to Men-nefer where he reported to the king and assembled court officials in the main audience chamber. He entered when called, quailed momentarily when he saw the crowded chamber, and advanced down the centre of the room toward the raised dais and ornate thrones. Several people were on the dais, but Ament's gaze rested solely upon the king and Chancellor Bay standing by him.

  The crowd of nobles and officials fell silent as Ament moved with measured step to the edge of the dais, where he fell to his knees and stretched out his arms toward the slight figure of the king.

  "Son of Re, Lord of the Two Lands, Great One of Kemet, Lord of Appearances, Akhenre Setepenre Siptah--Life! Health! Prosperity! I have returned to bear witness that I have obeyed your orders and fulfilled the mission entrusted to me--namely, that I should end the rebellion of the Retenu."

  The king stared at the kneeling figure in silence, and the watching officials and nobles caught in his silence a hint of disapproval and watched to see if this favourite of the regent would suffer some penalty. Tjaty Hori stirred and whispered something in the king's ear, but it was another voice that broke the silence.

  "Arise, Commander Ament. You may stand to deliver your report."

  Ament saw for the first time that Tausret sat on the other throne and a smile flickered across his face as he got to his feet. He bowed toward her and then faced the king again.

  "I have not given permission for this man to stand, Lady Tausret," Siptah complained.

  "Indeed not, my lord," Tausret said in a pleasant tone. "I assumed it was the excitement of the moment that made you omit a common courtesy, so I took it upon myself to greet the man who has ended the rebellion in your name."

  Siptah scowled and once more managed to look like a small boy playing at being a king. "Oh, very well, get on with it then, Ament."

  "Son of Re," Bay said quietly. "I have seen part of the written report submitted by Commander Ament already, and it might be better to hear his words in private."

  Siptah cleared his throat and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "It has been a long and boring morning," he said. "I could do with a cup of wine." He waved a hand dismissively at the officials and nobles. "Go on, get out. This audience is at an end."

  Bay led the way into a smaller chamber, followed by the king, Hori, Tausret and Ament. Commander Besenmut was sent for and quickly arrived. A servant was dispatched for wine and some simple fare, and other servants distributed wine and dates. Siptah took a cup and seated himself, looking toward his uncle impatiently.

  "Well? Can I hear this report now or do you have some other objection?"

  "None at all, Son of Re. Commander Ament, you may present your report."

  Ament bowed to the other people in the room, and then again to the king. "Son of Re, I have tendered my full written report to the royal scribes for inclusion in the records of the Two Kingdoms, but it is my honour to speak of my actions with my own lips.

  "Son of Re, upon receiving your command to put an end to the rebellion of the Retenu by any means possible, I made my way to the northern borders with the Set legion, and there sought out the enemy. They proved difficult to find and impossible to bring to battle, so after a month, I resolved to seek another way to end the conflict, namely, by negotiation rather than by force of arms."

  Siptah yaw
ned and coughed. "Why would I send a legion if I wanted a peace treaty?" he asked. "Are all my commanders lacking in courage? Must I conquer all Kemet's enemies personally?"

  "Son of Re, my orders allowed that I could use any means necessary to end the rebellion, and I have done so. Will you hear my report, Great One?"

  "Go on."

  "I found out that the main rebel leader was one Jethanah of the Hashimite tribe, and I arranged a meeting to discuss the reasons for the rebellion and..."

  "I'd have surrounded the meeting place with my legion and captured the rebel leader," Besenmut interrupted.

  "I had given my word that he would have safe conduct," Ament said.

  Tjaty Hori clapped his hands together softly. "A man of honour," he murmured, and Tausret smiled at both him and Ament.

  "Continue," Bay said.

  "I met with Jethanah the Hashimite and listened to what he had to say. He told me of the abuses of the Kemetu governor Ahmose, and instanced eight specific cases of abuse..."

  "Naturally he told lies," Besenmut said.

  "...and though he did not have specific charges he could bring against Governor Mentuneb as the Hashimite tribe was not under his jurisdiction, he provided me with two instances of abuse passed on to him by Nathael, another tribal chieftain."

  "And of course we have heard charges brought against governors before," Bay said. "They are always unfounded, so naturally the bringers of such charges are rightly punished."

  "I fear he is right, Commander Ament," Tjaty Hori said. "Whenever the tribes have a bad harvest or suffer from some unexpected disease, they find they cannot pay their taxes and seek to avoid payment by complaining about those officials set over them. You cannot put any reliance on the word of a savage tribesman."

  "Nor did I," Ament said. "I investigated, using the powers given to me by royal command, and I found that two of the charges laid at the feet of Governor Ahmose were true."

  "Only two?" Bay asked. "Out of eight? It sounds like Ahmose was guilty of little more than overzealousness."

  "There was evidence for the other charges, but not incontrovertible. For the two I could prove, the charges were murder and rape."

  "Serious charges," Hori said. "You had proof, you said?"

  "Yes, Tjaty. I interviewed many men and even put some servants to the question..."

  "I think you might have overstepped your authority there," Bay murmured.

  "Not so, Chancellor," Ament retorted, "for my orders clearly said 'by whatever means necessary'. In the event, the confessions of the servants under torture revealed the guilt of Governor Ahmose."

  "A man will say anything under torture," Bay said.

  "Of course, and an accusation made under such circumstances cannot be acted upon in the absence of other proof."

  "And there was other proof?" Hori asked.

  "Yes, Tjaty. There were three other witnesses to the murder and two to the rape."

  "The governor actually committed these crimes?"

  "Not in person, but he ordered them. That is why I simply put him in chains and ordered him to be held at Per-Ramesses awaiting your majesty's pleasure."

  "And the guilty men? The ones who actually killed and raped on the orders of the governor?"

  "I had them executed."

  "You should have had them set down to us so that we might rule on their guilt," Bay said.

  "I could not risk that, Chancellor."

  "What do you mean? Are you implying I would be less than just?"

  Ament bowed, a sardonic expression on his face. "Of course not, Chancellor, but I needed to show Jethanah that Kemetu justice was swift and sure. The leaders of the rebellion are now satisfied that their wrongs have been righted and have returned to their farms and villages. The Retenu are once more at peace."

  "That wasn't all you did though, was it?" Bay asked. "I read that part of your report when a scribe drew my attention to it."

  "The Hashimites--and other tribes--have suffered greatly at the hands of the governors and, to a lesser extent, from our military incursions. I took it upon myself to remit their taxes for next year..."

  "But those are my taxes," Siptah protested. "You must make up my loss personally."

  "Don't be ridiculous," Tausret snapped. "Ament's actions have saved the Treasury a huge amount of gold by cutting short a potentially costly and protracted war. The taxes from a few poor tribes are nothing compared to that. Tell him, Bay. Tell the king just how beneficial Ament's actions are."

  Bay scowled but nodded. "It is true, Son of Re. The taxes are as nothing."

  "Well, he shouldn't have done it without asking me first," Siptah complained. He lifted the wine cup to his lips and drank, swallowing with an obvious effort. "My throat feels sore," he muttered.

  "Son of Re," Hori interjected softly. "You had, in effect, already done so by making Commander Ament your envoy."

  "I don't like it," Siptah grumbled. "This whole exercise stinks. The rebels should have been crushed instead of pardoned. What will the other nations think when they hear that the king of Kemet is so weak he cannot put down a simple rebellion but must buy them off instead?"

  "I would imagine they will praise your justice and mercy," Tausret observed. "The Nations know that Kemet has a strong army, which is why they leave us in peace. Through Commander Ament, you have shown them we have wisdom as well."

  "Oh, very well. I don't suppose there's much I can do about it now," Siptah said. He wiped at his eyes and then his nose.

  "Are you feeling well, Majesty?" Bay asked. "Shall I send for a physician?"

  Siptah shook his head. "I'm tired. I just want to lie down for a bit." He got up and limped toward the door. "Perhaps some honeyed milk, Bay. My throat feels sore."

  ***

  The king got his milk and honey but he did not have long to enjoy it, because Bay sent for the court physician who, backed up by the Chancellor, threw away the sweet and rather soothing drink and replaced it with something rather less palatable. First, he sent for a lactating mother and had her express milk into a cup. He then mixed in a little ibis dung, wrote out a prayer on a scrap of papyrus which he then burnt and stirred the ashes into the milk.

  "Here, Son of Re. Drink this."

  Siptah looked to his uncle for support but found none, so he shrugged and drained the cup, grimacing at the taste.

  The physician then added ground garlic to fresh river water and vinegar, and placed the jar within easy reach of the king's bed. "A cupful twelve times a day."

  "Is that all?" Siptah grumbled.

  "Of course not, Son of Re," the physician replied. "I will notify the priests and they will come to your bedside and say prayers over you."

  The physician left to find the priests and Bay stirred the contents of the jar with a forefinger. "Can I trust you to drink a cup every hour or must I send a servant to see you do it?"

  "I'll do it. Now go away; I'm tired and I don't feel well."

  Bay bowed and left the king in his darkened room. He went about his duties, but had one of the king's servants report to him on the king's condition three times a day.

  "The king is restless, my lord, and coughs a lot," the servant said at dusk.

  "He did not sleep well, my lord, and lay in a sweat," said the servant at dawn.

  "He complains of the cold, my lord, but throws off the covers," the servant said at noon.

  "The king's breath is laboured, my lord. He sweats profusely," said the servant at dusk on the second day.

  The court physician was sent for again, and he arrived laden with herbs and medicines. Mallow leaves were added to boiling water and the vapour wafted over the king's face. Onions and garlic were crushed and mixed with honey and the sticky mess applied to the royal throat. More mother's milk was gathered and servants scoured the palace grounds for fresh ibis dung, and a phalanx of priests recited prayers for the king's recovery.

  ***

  Bay left the professionals to their work and went in search of the only man
he even half-trusted--Commander Besenmut of the Ptah legion. He found him taking his ease on a broad veranda lit by a single torch.

  "How is the king?" Besenmut asked.

  "That is with the gods, but the priests are dinning their ears as we speak. The physician says it is nothing more than a common fever and will succumb to his treatment."

  "Thank the gods for that."

  Bay looked around and then took Besenmut by the elbow, leading him out of the palace and into the gardens near the menagerie. There in the darkness they could talk unseen, though there was always the danger of someone listening in the shadows.

  "The king's health concerns me," Bay said.

  "But you just said the physician was not concerned."

  "Not this time, but what about the next illness?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "The king is physically weak and any serious illness could kill him. If he died..."

  Besenmut peered at the shadowed face of the Chancellor. "That could happen to any man...any king."

  "And what do you think would happen to us?" Bay made an angry gesture. "I'll tell you. We would follow him into death within a day. Do you think Queen Tausret would let us live?"

  "We have done nothing worthy of death," Besenmut said uneasily.

  "Have we not? I have been gathering power to myself at the expense of the Queen and you have openly thrown in your lot with me. Will you scurry back to Tausret's skirts and beg forgiveness? Will you turn on me and deliver me to her dog Ament?"

  "Never, my lord...but...what are we to do then? Do you really think the king will die?"

  "Not this time, gods willing, but we need to strengthen our position."

  "Agreed," Besenmut said. "But how?"

  "Who stands in our way?" Bay asked in a low voice. "The Queen, her son, and her dog. Remove them and no man can touch us."

  "Ament is easy enough, but for the others...that is treason, my lord."

  "Nobody would charge us with treason is we succeeded. The king would protect us anyway."