by Max Overton
Bay thought to himself how easy it would be to push a boy into a lion or a leopard pit and slip away quietly as men cried aloud and women tore their hair and garments in horror, while sending for the keepers of the menagerie.
The heat of the day would often drive the children indoors again, but sometimes they would play under the wide-spreading shade trees and seek amusement there. Scarab beetles could be found rolling little balls of dung purloined from the menagerie enclosures, or columns of ants marching like soldiers coming back from war, each carrying a piece of the spoils--a seed, a scrap of leaf, a limb from a dead spider. Butterflies fluttered around the flowering shrubs, brown and orange and yellow and blue, while bees foraged in the blossoms, eager to work while the butterflies played. Flies swarmed, attracted by the animal dung, and as the children played or watched the little animals of the gardens; their hands would flick constantly, waving away the insistent flies.
Pools of clear water, set about with rushes and papyrus, dotted the garden, and these cool places drew the children. They searched the edges of the pools for frogs and dipped little nets into the clear water in pursuit of tiny silver fish, laughing with delight and splashing each other with abandon. For those children less adventurous, they could sit and watch the dragonflies flitting above the pools, tiny red and blue jewels that hunted and ate flies on the wing. The nurses stayed close when the children were near the ponds, vigilant in case one of their charges should fall in, or in case they would disturb a cobra amongst the plants growing luxuriantly by the water's edge.
Bay thought to himself how easy it might be, if the nurses could be distracted, to push a boy into a pond and hold his head under until he drowned. Accidents happened.
***
Days passed, and Bay kept watch on the palace children as unobtrusively as he could, looking for when an opportunity might present itself, but knowing that the time was not yet ripe for action. He took his findings to the only other person who knew his mind and with whom he could share his thoughts.
"I could do it myself. As long as nobody actually saw me push him, none would dare accuse me--even her."
"Majesty, no. You must appear to be entirely blameless in this affair. Even a hint that you were involved could bring her wrath down on you. In the first wild moments of grief she may lash out at any she thinks have harmed her, and even your exalted status may not protect you. Leave the act to me, Majesty. I will either do it myself or employ a trusted man."
"Which method do you favour, Uncle?" Siptah asked curiously. "I think the fire pit as I hate him and that would hurt the most."
"That is an unworthy thought, Majesty. The child's only fault is who he is, and the gods made him that."
Siptah grimaced. "He stands in the way though."
"Yes he does, but unless I have no alternative I shall wish no such cruel death on him. I shall try to find a method that is quick and painless."
"Poison? I've heard that some poisons are very fast."
"Perhaps." Bay sat for a few minutes in thought. "I have not made my mind up yet. I only wanted to tell you of my findings so far, so that you would not worry that nothing was being done to safeguard your life."
"Don't delay too long, Uncle. You told me yourself that the Regent desires my death...our deaths...and if you wait too long it may be too late."
"I must have everything planned before I strike, so there is no possibility of failure. Have patience, Majesty, and all will be well."
***
Bay knew he could not follow Ament around in the same way, as the Commander would soon notice him and wonder what he was doing, so he detailed a pair of his close servants to do so.
When Ament was not with the Regent, he was most likely to be found in the Men-nefer legion barracks, where although he detested Commander Besenmut, was on friendly terms with some of the senior officers and often whiled away the hours over a pot of beer. They discussed battles, training methods and weapons, arguing fiercely and thumping the table with fists to emphasise points. Bay's men brought back their ideas.
"They become quite heated in their arguments sometimes, Master. It might be possible to escalate an argument to the point of blows. A man with a dagger..."
"Which man?" Bay asked. "You have someone in mind? One of the officers he has perhaps slighted or who holds a grudge."
"No, Master. We just thought that if we could get a man there, he could..."
"Any man I tried to introduce would be viewed with suspicion. Besides, they would surely kill him."
"Perhaps we could poison the officer's food?"
"Could you be certain that Ament alone would eat it? No, it is too risky. Find me something else."
Bay's men followed Ament to Iunu when he went to resume command of the Set legion, but the situation there was even worse than in Men-nefer. The Set legion was fiercely loyal to Ament and Bay's men could tell at once that they had no chance of subverting any officer, or of introducing an assassin into their ranks.
"Find me something I can use or find other employment," Bay ordered.
They followed him to Per-Bast, for Ament was still Overseer of Vineyards there, and owned a vineyard adjacent to the one gifted to his sister and her foreign husband by Baenre Merenptah. His sister now had many children and Ament enjoyed the company of his nephews and nieces, as well as the attentions of his adopted sons Jerem and Ephrim. Bay's men spent many days in the city of Per-Bast and took many opportunities to observe the Overseer as he did his rounds of the vineyards and inspected their produce.
"You have something for me?" Bay asked when his spies reported back to him.
"Yes, Master, I think we have." They went on to tell Bay of Ament's duties as Overseer and the jars of wine that were sent to the palace from his estates. "Furthermore," they said, "he is very fond of particular foreign dishes his sister prepares."
"And why should that be of interest to me?"
The spies smiled. "If such food arrived at the palace addressed to Commander Ament, purporting to come from his sister, he would accept it without question, and greedily consume it."
"Ah, I see," Bay said. "You have done well and shall be rewarded."
Bay's plans were starting to come together. He now had some ideas about how he could kill Ament and Seti-Merenptah, but there was still the problem of Queen Tausret. Next to the king, she was the most exalted personage in all of Kemet and was at all times all but surrounded by officials and courtiers. Even when alone, she was not, as the ubiquitous servants formed an unofficial presence that served to guard her. It would take exceptional circumstances for that cordon of people to be penetrated and breached. Any man who sought the life of the Regent would be almost certain to be apprehended, after the deed if not before, and must be prepared to die. Bay would have to offer a considerable incentive to get a willing assassin.
Bay gave the problem much thought, but could come to no conclusion regarding Tausret's death, so he decided he would try for Ament and the child, perhaps by the same method. He was aware of the poison that had been used to kill Baenre Merenptah and knew where to find a small amount of it, though it would have to be administered in a different way.
The poison, when it arrived, was a tiny amount of powder sealed in the tip of a cow's horn. Bay weighed it carefully in his hand, his heart beating fast as he contemplated the death he held. He called a trusted servant, a fellow Amorite by the name of Sensek, and bade him hide the horn where it could be quickly accessed but not easily found.
"You do not want me to administer it, Master?" Sensek asked.
"The opportunity is scarcely likely to arise," Bay replied. "If it does, tell me of it."
Sensek went off with the poison, while Bay, who realised the amount of poison in the horn was enough to kill a child but not a child and an adult, considered where he could lay hands on more. He thought he might have to send to the city of Khent-Min for more as that had been where Messuwy's man had obtained the unguent that had killed Baenre.
Sensek, in the
meantime, hid the horn carefully on his person and, knowing the intended target, kept a close eye on Seti-Merenptah, looking for a chance to administer it. In his mind, he believed that the path to personal power lay in performing great deeds for his master. Poisoning the young prince would be such a great deed.
His opportunity came a few days later on a hot day when the young prince was at play near the menagerie with several other children. One of the nurses brought out honey cakes and milk and called to the children. Sensek saw his chance immediately but could not get close to the children's refreshments while the nurse remained close by. He stayed close, the horn unstoppered, watching as the nurse poured milk into a silver cup and several wooden ones. The Amorite smiled when he saw the royal cup being prepared and called out to the nurse, pointing at a nearby pond.
"I think I saw a child fall in the pond."
The nurse ran toward the pond and Sensek swiftly shook the powdered poison into the silver cup, stirring it in with his finger and then stepping away into the shadows of a tamarind tree, from whence he could observe the outcome. He absently wiped his finger on his kilt as he watched the nurse return to her place and the children come running. The prince was a few paces behind the other children, chattering away to another small boy, and one of the first boys to reach the refreshment grabbed the prince's silver cup and raised it to his lips.
"No, Hortep," the nurse cried. "That is Seti's cup. Drink from your own." She reached across and plucked the cup from the child's hand, leaving a smear of milk on Hortep's upper lip.
The boy licked it off and reached for a honey cake, taking a bite out of it before grimacing and spitting out his mouthful. He clutched his stomach and stared at the nurse.
"It hurts."
The other children, including Prince Seti, stood around and stared at little Hortep, who was now rolling on the ground, crying. Nobody had stopping eating their cakes and drinking their milk, except Seti, who chewed on a honey cake but had a hand out for the silver cup that the nurse still held. The nurse dropped to her knees beside the stricken boy, setting the cup down awkwardly on the grass, oblivious to it falling over and spilling the milk.
Under the tamarind tree, Sensek cursed when he saw the poisoned milk spill to the ground and slipped away, putting some distance between him and the children. Already the nurse's screams were attracting attention. He made his way back into the palace by way of the kitchens, and unobtrusively dropped the horn vial into one of the fire pits, before finding Bay and reporting.
"You fool," Bay said. "I asked you to tell me if an opportunity arose, not snatch at it and ruin whatever chance we had."
"It would have worked, Master, if that greedy child had not grabbed the Prince's cup."
"And now you have alerted them to the danger, making it even harder to get close. What have you done with the empty horn?"
"Destroyed it."
"Good, now get out of the palace, lie low in the city."
Bay watched his man leave and knew that he had another problem--one that needed his immediate attention. He sent a servant to find another of his men, and had him admitted as soon as he arrived.
"Get rid of Sensek, as soon as possible."
"Permanently?"
"Of course, permanently, but make it look like an accident. A tavern brawl or street robbery gone wrong."
"Yes, Master."
***
"They have tried to kill my son."
"Thank the gods they did not succeed, my lady, but...who are 'they'?"
"Bay of course. Do you doubt it?"
"Can you prove it?"
"No, but it reeks of him. Find out, Ament."
***
Ament reported back a day later.
"The nurse in charge says there was a man near the children. He called out to her, telling her a child had fallen into a pool. She went to look, leaving the cakes and milk unattended and, after finding no child in or near the pool, returned to find the man gone."
"Did she know the man?"
"No, my lady, but her description was of one Sensek, an Amorite servant."
"Amorite. Like Bay."
Ament nodded. "There was no obvious connection with Bay, save that of their race."
"Was?"
"He was found dead in the city this morning. It seems he was stabbed and robbed."
"Or got rid of."
"Very likely, my lady."
"Nothing to connect him to Bay?"
"Only him being an Amorite. But there are several Amorite servants in the palace, most of them with no connection to Bay."
"What of the boy that was poisoned?"
"He will live, my lady. The poison was in the milk, but introduced into the Prince's cup alone. The boy only sipped from it."
Tausret shuddered and wrapped her arms around her body. "So close, Ament. I should have known he would try something like this and guarded against it. Well, that changes today. No food or drink comes near Seti-Merenptah without being tasted, and I will have a squad of soldiers attendant upon him at all times. He will not leave the palace precincts unless accompanied by at least a squad."
"You would make him a prisoner despite being heir, my lady," Ament murmured.
"Better a prisoner than...than..." Tausret shuddered again.
"Reassign me, lady. Make me guard and tutor to the boy and I will stick with him at all times, never letting him out of my sight."
"You have duties of your own."
"Nothing that cannot be managed by others, my lady. My sons can handle my duties as Overseer of Vineyards, and I have capable officers in my Set legion." Ament looked at Tausret and saw that she was undecided. "My lady, I would count it a signal honour to guard your son who will be the next King of Kemet. I would willingly offer up my life to protect him."
"I know you would, dear Ament..." Tausret nodded. "Very well. A better friend and protector no man could have, but call on whatever help you need."
"With my life, my lady," Ament said solemnly. Then he grinned. "I'd better go and tell him the news."
Chapter 29
Year 5 of Akhenre Siptah
Ament now lived close to Seti-Merenptah's rooms in the palace with a hand-picked guard on the doors and outside the windows at night, but the guards were almost unnoticeable during the day, withdrawing to allow their charge the semblance of privacy. The little boy quickly grew accustomed to Ament's frequent presence and grew to love his stories, his attention and his company, complaining loudly on those rare occasions when Ament was called away to attend to some other duty. On those occasions the guards moved in closer and Seti-Merenptah was allowed less freedom of movement.
"I don't know why you allow Bay to live," Ament said boldly one day, several months after the attempt on Seti-Merenptah's life. "You are the Regent, after all."
"Believe me, there is nothing I would like more, but I cannot just act against the king's uncle without proof. Siptah is almost old enough to rule alone, and acting against Bay without proof may just precipitate a civil war. I cannot risk that until my son is ready to take his place on the throne. Another year or two, perhaps."
Seti-Merenptah knew exactly who he was, and what his future was likely to be as the son of Userkheperure Seti and God's Wife of Amun, Queen Tausret. This gave him a sense of self-importance and it had led to rebellion against his tutors on more than one occasion. They tried to drum into him the history of the kings of Kemet, technicalities of the law, priestly duties and incantations, or the subtleties of hieroglyphs and cursive writing, but it was always a struggle. The boy would much rather be at play, or wandering around the stables, or training with his toy bow and arrow.
Ament was a good influence on Seti-Merenptah when it came to learning. The boy so loved his constant companion that he would rather suffer a whole morning's instruction by his tutors than risk the old soldier's displeasure and perhaps even miss out on a story. So every morning, Ament would deliver him to his tutors and sit in the shade of the stone columns or by a sunlit window w
hile Seti-Merenptah struggled with the intricacies of a royal education. At noon they took a meal together, with the heir not tasting a morsel that had not come from the common dish and been thoroughly tested by several people. Ament would eat too, again from the common dish, and then after a short respite in the heat of the day, he would lead the boy out to enjoy the afternoon.
It might have seemed like play to the boy, but Ament made sure that most things he did had some practical application. In the stables, Seti-Merenptah learned to care for horses; sitting on the palace walls, they would look down into the streets of the city, where Ament would point out what people were doing and why. In the palace gardens, they observed the animals in their cages and pits and Ament spun stories about the lands they came from and which king of Kemet it was that brought that land into subjugation. Other times, Ament would produce a straw and wicker gazelle and Seti-Merenptah would stand a few paces away with his little bow and a handful of arrows and try to hit it. Sometimes, servants or officials would stand around and watch the young prince's activities, applauding a fine effort or calling out encouragement.
But if there was one pastime the boy loved above all others, it was wading in the mud and reeds on the edges of the garden ponds hunting for frogs. If Ament or the nurse on duty did not call a halt to the activity, Seti-Merenptah would stay there till it grew too dark to see and he missed his supper. Ament, having been the son of a fisherman before he became a soldier, fashioned a little net for the boy and strung it between two thin sticks so he could scoop fish or frogs from the water with a lunge, or drop the net over them with a shout of glee. His catch would be transferred, with squeals of excitement, to a pot of water.
Even here, Ament tried to instil some educative advantage. He showed how the silvery scales of fish and their shape, made them very suited to life in water, and he explained how the frog exceeded all other animals in its fertility, flooding the ponds with tadpoles in the spring. This was why, he said, the goddess of fertility, Heqet, took the form of a frog or a woman with the head of a frog.