by Max Overton
Besenmut, Commander of the Ptah legion was promoted to Fan Bearer on the King's Right Hand, and felt his position to be such that he should try and convert some of the Queen's supporters to his own side. On the suggestion of Bay, he took Tjaty Mentu aside and spoke to him.
"This sad news of the Prince's death grieves us all, Tjaty Mentu," Besenmut said. "But it does also simplify matters."
"Simplify? How?"
"There has been debate over the succession..."
"There has been no such debate," Mentu interrupted. "The agreement was plain--Akhenre Siptah ruled as king under the regency of Queen Tausret until Prince Seti-Merenptah came of age, at which point he would step aside for the son of Userkheperure."
"But now the son is dead and the agreement comes to nothing. Akhenre is king."
"There is still no debate," Mentu pointed out. "Of course Akhenre is king. Where lies the problem?"
"The problem lies in the regency," Besenmut declared. "Queen Tausret should step down immediately and hand over power to the king, now that her son is dead."
"As no doubt she will do at the proper time," Mentu countered. "But that time is not yet. What has changed in the last few days? The regency is proper while the king is young--has he magically matured in the last few days?"
"You should support Siptah."
"I do."
"Then why will you not support him in this?"
Mentu sighed. "If the Queen steps down, who will rule the king?"
"He will rule himself."
"He is not ready to do so."
"Then Bay will help him."
"If the king still needs help then why not let the Queen continue to exercise her powers as Regent?"
"I am only thinking of the Queen in this her time of grief. Why not lessen her load?"
"So this is a selfless act on your part, is it Besenmut? I thought this was all about who controls the king, but it seems I was mistaken." Mentu held up a hand as the legion commander opened his mouth. "I suggest we leave this to those most concerned. Queen Tausret knows what she is doing and if the load becomes too much to bear, I have no doubt she will make the appropriate decisions. And let me stress that it should be her decision, not one forced upon her. Is that what you want to do? To force a decision upon the Queen?"
"Of course not. I seek only what is best for the king and Kemet...and the Queen."
"Then let us speak no more of it." Mentu turned and strode off, leaving Besenmut staring after him.
Besenmut reported the conversation to Bay, who shrugged. "Tjaty Mentu is the Queen's dog, like her other one. It comes to naught in the end, anyway. Another year at the most and the king will be able to take up the reins of government for himself, and then those loyal to him--like yourself--will come into their reward."
"And the dogs?"
"They will yap and whine but achieve nothing."
***
Bay found he had also to reassure Siptah, who had become quite nervous after the death of Seti-Merenptah. The difficulty was to get him alone, where they could not be overheard, and the palace gardens proved to be the best place for this after the heat of the day had passed. He would have preferred to go out into the wilderness on a hunt as he had before, but he thought it might seem suspicious at this time. Instead, he used the death of the little prince as an excuse for thoroughly searching the garden for snakes and then clearing it of all people so that the king could relax in complete safety.
"Was this really necessary?" Siptah asked when he was seated comfortably under the shade of an awning, the breeze cool upon his body. "I don't mind other people in the garden as long as they don't talk to me."
"It is better not to run the risk of being overheard. We need to discuss the death."
"You didn't do very well then, did you? I thought you said you'd kill Ament first, then the boy and then his mother. Well, the boy's dead but by an accident, and Ament and the Queen still live."
"Some god smiled on Ament that day," Bay replied. "He was sent a poisoned dish of cakes which under normal circumstances he would have shared with the prince immediately. As we know, the prince was tired, so Ament tasted the poisoned cakes alone and almost died."
"Almost isn't good enough, Uncle."
Bay glared at his royal nephew. "I am aware of that, but the amount he ate should have been enough. It would have been if that physician had not recognised the poison and purged his body of it."
"So you failed. Thank the gods they saw fit to remove the boy themselves."
"Sometimes the gods need a little help."
"Meaning what?"
"Meaning that I knew by a little after midday when Ament succumbed that the poison wasn't going to kill, so I made other arrangements, and unbeknownst to him, Ament actually helped me. He had made a point these last months of clearing the pond edges of snakes, making the garden safe for the prince to play in. He transported the snakes he caught in wicker baskets and releasing them outside the city." Bay smiled. "I had a man reverse that work."
Siptah stared at his uncle. "You put the sacred cobra into the garden? Not the gods?"
"As I said, sometimes the gods need our help. Anyway, you could argue that the sacred cobra would not bite the child if it was not the will of the gods. It did, so you could say the gods themselves wanted him dead."
"And Tausret? You said you were going to kill her while she grieved."
"I considered it, but I don't think it's necessary. She is talking of stepping down."
"Good."
"If she comes to you and tells you she is doing so, you must not express joy at the thought, nor must you express any doubt that you will be able to fulfil all your duties as king. Rather, you should give thanks for the wonderful way in which she has raised you, and assure her that you will consult her regularly."
Siptah made a face. "I won't have to, will I?"
"Not unless you want to, but until she actually does step down you must give the outward appearance of being grateful for the help and instruction she has given you that now enables you to rule alone. You'll be able to do that?"
The king nodded, but his thoughts were elsewhere. "Ament knows he was poisoned. Won't he know you did it?"
"Very likely, but knowing and being able to prove it are two different things."
"The man who poisoned Ament's cakes? Will he talk?"
"He is no longer in Men-nefer."
"And the man who brought the snake in?"
"He won't talk and besides, no one saw him."
"You are certain of that?"
"Yes."
"So we are safe?"
"Define safe." Bay saw the worried expression on the king's face and relented. "You are in no danger, for you are the king and above the law. I am your humble servant and despite doing all things for you, I could be blamed for certain things and held accountable. In that event, I ask only the protection of your right hand and a suitable reward when the regency is ended."
"And you shall have it, Uncle. If it is within my power, you shall have whatever your heart desires."
Bay smiled. "You have been a good son of your father, Akhenre Siptah, and he would be proud of you. Never forget that Menmire Amenmesse was a true son of Baenre and rightful king of all Kemet. As your father's only son, you too will make an excellent king."
Chapter 32
Year 5 of Akhenre Siptah
Ament had tried to track down the person who had administered the poison to his sister's cakes, but had failed. He journeyed northeast to Per-Bast and talked to his sister, finding out from her who had been charged with the delivery of the sealed jar of sticky cakes. By stages, and by the judicious use of beer, wine and gold as means of loosening the tongues of witnesses, he had managed to trace the path by which the cakes reached him.
A porter by the name of Ked had taken the sealed jar to the docks of Per-Bast, and there found a fisherman called Bak willing to transport it to Men-nefer along with other produce he meant to take to market there. Upon his arrival in the capital city, Bak
had passed the jar (still sealed), along with a small payment, to a palace servant by the name of Nehi, who swore he would take it to the Overseer of the King's Table, Djetmose.
Djetmose remembered the jar because at some stage in its journey it must have been overturned as the jar had leaked and was sticky. The overseer had licked his fingers and recalled the taste of honey and almonds. Evidently the jar had not yet been poisoned as Djetmose was in good health and had suffered no more than toothache between then and now. The jar had been handed on to a palace servant called Mose who, having other duties to perform, had set the jar aside for later delivery to Commander Ament's quarters.
"I returned to it no more than a few minutes later, Commander," Mose said. "Well, perhaps an hour or so," he amended. "I found the seal broken and thought to find the contents stolen but when I looked inside, the jar was full."
"You did not taste the contents?" Ament asked.
"No, Commander," Mose replied indignantly. "I delivered the jar to your rooms."
"And you have suffered no illness since then?"
"No, Commander."
Ament knew the poisoner had taken advantage of the unattended jar, but was disturbed by the effort that had gone into the attack. This was no random attempt but one that had been carefully planned. The man responsible had known that sweetmeats arrived from his sister and probably the route through the palace when it arrived. It was quite possible that he had known the jar would be unattended for some time too.
"Who would have had access to the jar in your absence?" he asked.
"No one, Commander...or rather, anyone. The room is not locked or normally attended, so anyone could have come in."
"You saw nobody acting suspiciously? Furtively?"
"No, Commander."
"And these duties that required you to set the jar aside for later delivery? What were they?"
"Just normal duties, Commander. Nothing out of the ordinary. Fetching and carrying mostly."
"Who gave you the orders?"
"I am answerable to Overseer Djetmose, Commander. If he tells me to do something, I do it. No questions asked."
Ament dismissed the servant, knowing he would get no more out of him. He knew when the poison had been added, but had no way of finding out the identity of the poisoner. No doubt someone among the swarming multitude of servants had seen him, but as servants were generally trained not to see what did not concern them, he doubted any useful information could be gained from countless interrogations. He would have to try something else.
He tried his system of spies and informants. Every person of note, and quite a few who merely wished to be, employed spies through a series of favours and gifts as a means of advancing themselves or gaining an advantage over their fellow servants. Because servants were everywhere within the palace, it was quite possible that someone knew something. It turned out they did, but not what Ament was expecting.
Among the many bits of gossip was, "Nurse Henet is wearing a new piece of jewellery."
"Why should that concern me?"
The man shrugged. "It's just what I heard."
"Who is Nurse Henet anyway?"
"She is...was nurse to the young prince what died."
"Ah, yes, of course. I'd forgotten her name but I remember her."
Ament dismissed the man and thought about the snippet of information. Was it in any way related to the poisoning of the cakes? Ament could not see a connection but that did not necessarily mean anything. The connection could be tenuous or indeed, nonexistent. He sighed and shook his head, feeling overwhelmed by the lack of useful information. The fact that the nurse was Seti-Merenptah's was probably no more than a coincidence, but the poisoned cakes had been meant for both him and the prince, and if he had taken them to the prince, the nurse would have had to allow him the sweetmeat. Ament supposed it could do no harm to talk to Henet, though he could not see any reasonable avenue for interrogation.
He found the nurse weeping in the rooms she had recently shared with the prince. She looked up, bleary-eyed, as he entered and fell to her knees when he identified himself.
"Oh, sir," Henet wailed, clasping Ament's feet in her hands. "I miss the little boy. I loved 'im, see, and would 'ave done anything to save 'im from 'urt."
Ament stooped and raised the nurse up, guiding her to a chair. "I'm sure you did, Henet. No one doubts you loved the little prince."
"'E was...'e was like me own boy. I suckled 'im when 'e was little, you know. Fed 'im from me own body. Can't get closer than that, less 'e was me own."
"I know. I saw you with him often enough to know you loved him. I loved him too."
"Oh, sir, everyone knows you did." Henet dabbed at her eyes with a cloth and ventured a weak smile. "You was like a father to 'im."
Ament could not think of any subtle way to broach the subject, so just plunged ahead. "I hear you have a new piece of jewellery, Henet. May I see it?"
The nurse hesitated and then got up and went to a small wooden chest in the corner of the room. She lifted some clothing and picked up a necklace, passing it to Ament.
"Very nice." Ament turned it over in his hands. It was made of faience; bright blue glazing set in copper, and was well made. He estimated its worth as considerably more than the nurse would earn in a month. "Where did you get it?"
"Oh, sir, I didn't steal it."
"I'm not saying you did, Henet, but were you given it?"
"Yes, sir."
"You have a wealthy admirer then. Anyone I might know?"
"It weren't a gift from a lover, like," Henet said, her lips twitching with faint mirth. "And I don't think you'd know 'im, sir."
"Try me."
Another hesitation. "Mensay, sir."
Ament frowned. "I don't know him. Why did he give it to you?"
Henet shrugged and looked away. "P'raps 'e just likes me."
"If a man gives a woman a gift this valuable it's because he wants something from her. You've told me he wasn't a lover, so come on, Henet. What did he want?"
To Ament's surprise, Henet burst into tears. "I...I didn't do nothing, sir. Honestly. 'E just...'e just wanted me to say nothing, but...but I don't know what 'e wanted me to say nothing about."
Ament soothed the upset woman and waited until she had cried herself into sobbing gulps before squatting beside her. "This man...this Mensay...what exactly did he say to you?"
"I can't remember, sir."
"When did he give you the necklace?"
Henet hiccupped. "The day after...after little Seti..." She blew her nose on the cloth.
"He came here? To your room?"
"Yes, sir. 'E said...I just remembered, sir. 'E said I was to forget what I seen and 'eard. Just that, sir. I didn't know what 'e meant, so I nods like, 'e gives me the necklace and says, 'Say nothing' and goes."
"What do you think he meant?"
"I don't know, sir."
"What do you think he might have meant, Henet?" when the nurse shook her head, Ament went on. "Anything at all. What did you see on the day the prince died? What did you hear? Think, Henet, it could be important."
"I didn't hear nothing, sir, I swear. Only what the little prince says."
Ament grunted in annoyance. "Nothing else? A man's voice...or a woman's?"
"No sir, just little Seti...but 'e spoke about a man only I didn't listen proper like. I was busy and..." Henet started crying again. "I told 'im to go and play. P'raps if I 'adn't, 'e might still be alive."
"Come on now, Henet, dry your eyes and think hard. You want to help little Seti's mother, the Queen, don't you? She would like to know anything Seti said that day."
Henet blew her nose again and sniffed. "Well, 'e's playing and I'm in the next room looking for my wool, an 'e says something about a man outside." She frowned, concentrating. "'E said 'e 'ad a basket."
"The prince had a basket?"
"No, sir, the man. The prince calls again and I go out and look but it's just a man standing near the pond with a large basket. I
tells the prince to go and play and I go and look for my wool again. Never did find it, sir, because...because..." She burst into tears again.
Ament sat back on his heels and watched the nurse cry, thinking about a man near the pool with a basket, of the cobras he used to catch in baskets and take away, and of a man who had tried to poison the prince a few days before.
"The same man?" Ament muttered. "Can't be; they found Sensek dead. Another Amorite perhaps? Another tie to Bay?"
"Henet, did the man look like an Amorite?"
"I don't know, sir. I don't know any Amorites."
"Like Chancellor Bay."
"Oh, sir, it weren't 'im."
"Never mind, would you recognise the man with the basket if you saw him again?"
The nurse looked doubtful but nodded. "Maybe, sir."
"Good. Now, tidy yourself up and be prepared to enter the Queen's presence. I am going to see if I can find this man with the basket and have you identify him."
***
Ament went straight to see Tausret and was admitted to her presence at once. She immediately dismissed the servants and beckoned him closer.
"You have some news. I can see it in your face."
Ament nodded. "News, but not what I was expecting, my Lady. I was investigating the person who poisoned my cakes but a path led me to Henet, your son's nurse."
"I know her. She is a good woman and was devoted to Seti."
"That was my impression, my Lady. However, there is something else. It seems that she heard your son talking about a man with a basket near the pond, and she even caught a glimpse of this man."
"Who was this man?"
"I don't know, but whoever it was, someone felt it important enough to go to Henet the day after and attempt to buy her silence with a faience necklace."
Tausret considered this for a few moments. "What was important enough in what she saw or heard that warranted a bribe?"
"That is what I have been unable to find out. I questioned Henet, of course, and while she may be able to recognise the man if she saw him again, there is no evidence that the man is important to either your son's death or the attempted poisoning."
"Bring Henet to me, Ament. It may be that she will talk to another woman more than she will to a man. Besides, we have each of us lost our son, and that is a bond between us."