by Max Overton
"I prepared her for that eventuality, my Lady. With your permission I shall go and fetch her myself."
***
Ament returned minutes later, looking grim. "She is dead, my Lady."
"How?"
"It would seem she was smothered, for I found her lying on her bed and a pillow on the floor beside her." Ament grimaced. "I should have brought her with me rather than coming to see you first. Now we shall never know the identity of the man with the basket."
"Is it really important, though? I mean, what is the significance of a man with a basket?"
"Ah, my Lady, I fear there is a very great significance. It is common knowledge within the palace that I have, of late, scoured the edges of the ponds where the prince played; removing any snake I found in the reeds and water plants. I would trap them in a basket and carry them outside the city walls. I had searched that very pond the day before."
"You are not to blame, Ament."
"I think you are right, my Lady, but someone saw me take cobras away and brought one back by the same method. If that is in fact what happened, then your son was murdered on the same day I was poisoned. That is not a coincidence, but the action of an enemy."
"The Great Enemy--Bay."
"I think so, my Lady, though how we prove it, I don't know."
"We do not have to prove it; though it is likely Bay planned it with or without the knowledge of Siptah. One thing is certain, we cannot bring the king to trial and it would be dangerous to arrest Bay."
"Then we are helpless in the face of their enmity?"
"Not helpless, but we must be on our guard."
Chapter 33
Setnakhte speaks:
The death of Prince Seti-Merenptah has altered everything. Kings of the House of Ramesses are ordained by the gods, descending from the great Usermaatre Ramesses to his son Baenre Merenptah, from Baenre to his son Userkheperure Seti, and from Userkheperure to the rightful heir of the throne of the Two Lands, Seti-Merenptah. The one they call Menmire Amenmesse, elder son of Baenre, was an anomaly, a pretender who tore the Kingdoms apart, and his son after him called Akhenre Siptah. Neither Menmire nor Akhenre are legitimate kings, but the issue of the loins of Userkheperure has passed from the earth, and Kemet is without a king.
I cannot accept Akhenre, and I have made my position clear. I have allowed this pretender to sit on the throne only because the true king was too young to take up the throne in his own right. His mother, Queen Tausret, Great Wife of Userkheperure, should have exercised what power she had to become regent in her son's name. It has been done before, most notably when Maatkare Hatshepsut ruled as regent for Menkheperre Djetmose--and I would have accepted that without question.
Instead, she gave in to traitors and allowed the pretender's son Siptah to be anointed king, although with her retaining some control as regent. But now, her son lies dead and the legitimate line of Ramesses has come to an end. What is to become of the Two Lands? I am not sure that I can continue to serve Akhenre Siptah now that all hope of the true succession has vanished. I think I must resign as General of the Southern Army and retire to my estates with my wife and son.
I called them to me that I might explain my position and do them the courtesy of making them a part of my deliberations.
"Beloved Tiy-Merenese, wife of my youth and keeper of my heart, sit beside me. Ramesses, strong issue of my loins, come stand where I can take strength from your countenance. I have news to impart that must affect our family greatly, and I wish you to hear it from my lips first."
"Then speak, husband, for I am a loving and dutiful wife and will follow where you lead."
"And I shall always be your strong right hand, father. Tell us your news."
I felt a flood of warmth in my chest at these words. Could any man hope for a more loving wife or dutiful son?
"Know then that Prince Seti-Merenptah, Heir to the throne of Kemet, and indeed the rightful heir of Userkheperure Seti, is dead. The usurper Siptah is now firmly in place with no legitimate issue to supplant him. You know I have always been loyal to the last legitimate king of the House of Ramesses, Userkheperure, and I have suffered the presence of the usurper solely because the rightful heir would one day take up the heka and nekhakha of kingly authority, but now he is dead and I can serve the usurper no more."
"What do you mean, husband?" Tiy-Merenese asked.
"I must resign my position and go into retirement. It will mean we will have less income and must dismiss many of our servants, but I am sure we will, in time, be able to live quite comfortably. Our estates are small but productive."
My wife sighed, but gave me a brave smile. "If that is what you have decided, husband, then we shall obey."
I looked at my son standing silently in front of me, and saw the frown on his brow. Rising thirty inundations now, he was a mature man with his own firm views on the world--views that I wanted to hear, yet he stood there saying nothing.
"Well, Ramesses, have you nothing to say?"
"Forgive me, father, but I thought you had not yet finished speaking. I felt certain that the words of despair and defeat that dripped from your lips were to be followed by a message of hope for the future."
I bristled at the disrespect in my son's voice. "I have told you of our future," I said. "It lies on our estates."
"That is a future for peasants and farmers," Ramesses said. "You are a son of the great Usermaatre and a soldier of note. I would not have believed you would run from your fate when the will of the gods is written plain before you."
"How dare you?" I asked, fury rising in me.
"My son, that is no way to speak to your father," Tiy-Merenese said. "Fall on your knees at once and beg his forgiveness."
Ramesses stared at me, determination written upon his face. "Well, father, what is it you desire? My apologies for my outspokenness or will you hear me out?"
I choked back my anger and said, "Speak then. I will hear you."
"Father, I have ever been a faithful and loyal son, willing to spend my days in your shadow as you rose to greatness under the kings of Kemet. I know you for the steadfast man of principle you are and I honour you for it. You have served the kings of Kemet as a soldier, as an officer, as legion commander, and as General of the Southern Army, swearing allegiance to every legitimate scion of the great Usermaatre.
"Therefore it grieves me to hear you say that now, as Kemet enters into its most grievous time, when the last legitimate king has died and that his infant son has died without issue, you will let a usurper and pretender sit upon the throne unchallenged. This is not the father I know and love.
"If I have offended you, father, then I will remove myself from your presence and go to fight the pretender with whatever loyal men I can find in the Kingdoms. But I cannot go to our estates and raise cattle, tend vineyards, and while away my days eating and drinking, leaving our beloved Kemet to fester under the heel of the pretender and his uncle."
I sat silent while I digested his words, and Ramesses stood proudly in front of me, challenging me. There was some truth in what he said, but he had not thought it through.
"You have given me a young man's response," I said mildly. "But I am old and look upon retirement with favourable eyes. What would you have me do, son of my loins?"
"You are a leader of men and control an army second to none. Rise up and overthrow this Siptah and his Amorite uncle, Bay. You will earn the thanks of all Kemet."
"For plunging the Kingdoms back into civil war, brother against brother? No one would thank me for that. Besides, to what end would I fight? Who would I replace on the throne once Siptah and Bay have gone?"
He hesitated. "Queen Tausret is regent and was Userkheperure's Great Wife and God's Wife of Amun..."
"But she is not king and can never be," I said. "Women may be many things, including regent during the minority of their royal sons, but they can never be king."
"Maatkare Hatshepsut was," Ramesses said, reminding me of my previous thoughts.
"Different times," I countered. "Besides, look what happened to her, overthrown and all but forgotten except as an object lesson not to let women grow too powerful."
"Then someone else."
"Who?" I asked. "You would cast down the present king without having anyone else to step up and take over?"
"There is somebody. Surely you can see that?"
"Userkheperure Seti was the last legitimate king of the House of Ramesses," I declared. "There is no other, so let that be an end of it."
"So you will just let Siptah become full king and let Kemet suffer under the ministrations of Bay when there is an obvious solution?"
"What obvious solution?" I asked.
"Seize the throne for yourself."
I stared at my son, my heart gripped with horror, but a feeling of excitement growing in me at the thought. I knew what it was like to go into battle at the head of an army--I had even worn the blue leather war crown as a ruse--but this was not some play-acting, some subterfuge, he was talking about. This was real, and it was madness.
"Are you mad?"
"Why not, father? You are a son of Usermaatre Ramesses, just like Baenre Merenptah was. When the line of the legitimate heir dies out, the line of the next son takes his place. You are a younger brother of Baenre, and now that his legitimate son and grandson have died without issue, it is your duty to become king. Reach out your hand for the throne and thousands will flock to your banner. Even Queen Tausret will not oppose you once she sees the legitimacy of your claim."
"My mother was a mere concubine," I said.
"Forget her," Ramesses countered. "You spring from the loins of Usermaatre and his heart beats within you."
"There are other sons..."
"A hundred sons and grandsons and great-grandsons, for your father was prolific as befitted the Bull of Heru, but none of them are as capable as you. They are low-ranking government officials, or scribes or priests. Perhaps a few are even soldiers, but none command at legion level and none are General of the Armies--save you. Father, can you not see that you are best qualified to rule Kemet now that the line of Userkheperure is dead? Mother, speak to him."
"Our son is right, husband," Tiy-Merenese said. "The gods have handed you the throne. All you have to do is reach out and take it."
I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed at the thought. I had dedicated my life to the service of the kings of Kemet, knowing that my own position as one of the lesser sons of Usermaatre precluded me from the succession. It was never mine and it never entered my consideration, though I admit that once or twice I had felt that I could do as well as the king. Now the throne beckoned me, but could I take that final step and overthrow a lifetime of obedience?
"I never thought to be king," I said. "I don't know that I could be one."
"Baenre Merenptah was thirteenth son of Usermaatre. He would never have considered the possibility of becoming king--yet he did. You are...what? Twentieth son? Thirtieth?"
"Something like that," I muttered.
"And even less likely to become king--yet you could be. Father, no one can force you, but think upon it, I beg you. I can think of no one more capable of being Lord of the Two Lands."
I sighed, feeling my feet being set on another path. Anxiety gripped me, but also excitement. "I will think on it," I said. And with that, my son Ramesses had to be content.
Chapter 34
Year 5 of Akhenre Siptah
An invitation came to the palace from the priests at Iunu, requesting that the Queen, as Regent, preside over the inauguration of a new shrine. Tausret declined, but suggested to the king that Bay should attend as he was high in the king's estimation. Siptah was very pleased with this suggestion and put it forward as his own idea, with the result that Bay willingly accepted. He may not have been so pleased to attend if he had thought that it was a way to separate him from the king's presence. Ament offered to accompany Bay with an honour guard of palace soldiers, and Bay reluctantly acceded to this offer providing it was Besenmut and a squad of the Ptah legion that accompanied them.
"He doesn't trust me," Ament said to Tausret.
The Queen laughed, warming Ament's heart. "Even Bay can show wisdom sometimes. Just make sure you get him alone at some point and question him. I need to be sure if he acted alone or with the acquiescence of the king."
"What will you be doing, my Lady?"
"I'll be talking to Siptah. I think I'll be able to work on him without Bay there to put words in his mouth."
"There's still not much you can do, even if the king did agree to it. He's above the law."
"Well, we'll see, won't we?"
***
Bay travelled by barge to Iunu, with Ament and a contingent of the Ptah legion crowding aboard the craft with them. Ament tried to talk to Bay during the short voyage downriver, but Besenmut made sure they were never alone.
"Why do you need to see him alone?" Besenmut demanded.
"That is my own business. Now will you withdraw and let us talk?"
"Chancellor Bay?"
Bay looked at Ament and yawned. "I cannot think of anything I wish to discuss with you, Ament. Go away and let me enjoy the breezes."
So Ament had no option but to withdraw. He spent the two days and a night cloistered with soldiers of the Ptah legion who looked at him askance as they had been told he was a traitor to King Akhenre.
It was scarcely better once they landed at Iunu, though here he could escape from the barbed comments of the soldiers and officers. The Set legion was based near Iunu, so he took the opportunity to inspect his men and spend some convivial time in the presence of his officers. The next day, Ament went back into the city and watched from a distance as Bay went about his official duties, meeting with the priests and officiating with them as the god was called down into his newly constructed stone home.
Bay attended a feast at the Hem-netjer of Atum's house, but Ament was not invited. He waited outside, wrapped in a woollen military cloak against the chill of the night, hoping to approach Bay as he walked back to his lodgings. Besenmut and his soldiers quickly surrounded the Chancellor as he left, though, and Ament was not able to get near to Bay. As the men marched away, Ament called after them, "I know who brought the basket to the palace garden." It was as if he had not spoken, and Ament returned to his own lodgings with his Set officers feeling quite dejected. In the morning, though, he was surprised when two junior officers of the Ptah legion turned up and demanded he accompany them.
"Where to?"
"Chancellor Bay demands your presence at once."
Ament nodded, but first issued instructions to the officers of Set, before accompanying the Ptah officers into the city again. An honour guard followed him and waited outside the temple of Atum. The forecourt of the temple was deserted; with soldiers turning away people at all the entrances. Besenmut met Ament and his two summoners and brought him to Bay in a shaded part of the forecourt.
"What did you mean by that comment about a basket?" Bay demanded.
Ament looked at Besenmut. "Send your lapdog away first."
"Commander Besenmut is a trusted confidant. You may talk in front of him."
"You are certain of that?" When Bay did not react, Ament shrugged. "Very well. You tried to have me killed, Bay. What did you hope to gain?"
Bay yawned. "I deny that. Do you have proof?"
"Maybe not enough to convince a judge."
"I thought not."
"Then there is the basket with the snake," Ament went on. "Your man was seen and recognised. When we catch him he will talk."
Bay's expression did not change, and Ament knew his bluff had failed. The man was probably already dead.
"What snake?" Besenmut demanded. "Are you accusing Lord Bay of complicity in the death of the Prince? How dare you? My lord, let me call my men and have this dog killed and his body thrown into the street. It would be no more than he deserves."
"I might point out that the Set legion followed me into the city and
they are more than a match for these Ptah soldiers."
"You would already be dead by the time they got here," Besenmut sneered.
"Then you would shortly follow me, as would Chancellor Bay and any other who opposed them. They have their orders."
"What is it you want?" Bay asked.
"A private talk, no more."
Bay thought for a few moments and then spoke to Besenmut. "Remain in sight but withdraw out of earshot, you and your men."
"My Lord, I must protest. He means you harm."
"Then search him first to make sure he has no weapon."
Ament allowed himself to be searched and straightened his clothing as he watched Besenmut and his soldiers march away. Then he turned back to Bay with a hostile stare.
"You may deny it, Chancellor, but we both know you tried to poison me and that you killed Prince Seti-Merenptah."
"Actually, I do deny it--that I did those things myself, by my own hand. I wish I had as you would certainly be dead by now, but in both cases I have to admit I only caused them to happen."
"You admit it?"
"Why not? We both know I stand to gain everything."
"But now that I know..."
"You will be able to do nothing. Bring charges against me and you will see. The king will dismiss them out of hand." Bay smiled and watched Ament. "By all rights you should be dead, Commander. That was a very virulent poison. Still, it will not matter soon. Another month or so and the king will demand of the Council that the regent is dismissed. They will grant it, I feel sure, and then the Queen will retire to her estates and you...well, there will be no one left to protect you."
"You are so certain of success?"
"Oh, yes. I know who is for me and who is against. I have the numbers in the King's Council and in the army. There is nothing you or the Queen can do."
"Then why wait a month or two? Why not act now?"
"The king turns fifteen in a month's time. There are some that might argue that a regent is needed until then, but none will argue that beyond then--especially when the king raises me to the status of God's Father and Tjaty of both kingdoms. He might even make me Heir until he produces a son of his own body."