by Max Overton
The next day dawned, and Meryset prepared to change his fortune. He sharpened his curved copper sword and placed it just inside the door to his room, selected a spear from the legion armoury, looking along its length to make sure it would fly straight and true. This he propped against the wall in his room next to his sword. Then he paced out his escape route, making sure the passages and doorways were free of obstruction. From the barrack's back door to the Tjaty's palace was no more than five hundred paces, and Meryset believed he could cover that distance before his pursuit was properly organised.
His duties that morning called for him to drill his squad of fifty in the barrack's courtyard, but his mind was not on the job. The men knew it and took advantage of his obvious distraction. Meryset dismissed them early and went to his room where he sat, tapping his heels on the dirt floor, or lay on his cot, moving restlessly, or pacing up and down, glancing out of the door frequently. As the noon hour approached, he grew more agitated, and hovered in the doorway waiting for the approach of the General.
The aromas of the noon meal wafted in the air, and people started moving toward the kitchens. Senior officers ate apart from the men, but often collected their own food from the cooks before taking it to their dining room. Setnakhte made a point of collecting his own meals most days so as to display unity with his officers, and this day was no different. Setnakhte came into view, talking with his son Ramesses and Commander of the Mut legion, Panhesy. Their path took them close to the junior officers' rooms and as they passed, Panhesy looked up and saw Meryset watching them. He frowned and then nodded his head toward the Leader of Fifty, continuing on his way.
They passed by; the three senior officers. Meryset glanced around to make sure he was unobserved and reached for his spear. He stepped out of his room and drew back his arm, preparing to throw. Setnakhte walked alongside his son with Panhesy a pace or two to one side and behind, while ahead of the trio, Meryset could see other men hurrying toward the kitchens. No one was looking in his direction, so Meryset offered up a swift prayer and started his throw.
At that moment, Panhesy glanced back and saw Meryset release his spear toward them. He yelled an inchoate warning and stumbled toward his General, who was also turning. The spear, heading straight for Setnakhte's naked back, clipped Panhesy's arm and was deflected just enough to skim past the General. Ramesses uttered a roar of rage and hurled himself after Meryset, who had turned tail and was racing for the doorway that would lead to safety.
Meryset's lead was such that he might have beaten even an instant pursuer like Ramesses, but a soldier who had been in the latrines, now hurried along, intent on getting his meal, and collided with Meryset. The would-be assassin threw aside the soldier, but the delay allowed Ramesses to throw himself onto the running man and bear him to the ground. Other men ran up and secured Meryset, beating him severely and throwing him into a cell.
***
Setnakhte was shaken by the assassination attempt, but put off the midday meal in an effort to find out how extensive was the plot against his life. Ramesses closed down the barracks and put an armed guard on his father, while a physician attended to Panhesy's wound. Then Setnakhte and Ramesses had Meryset hauled before them.
"Why?" was Setnakhte's first question.
Meryset shrugged. "What does it matter? I failed."
"It matters because you are a capable officer and I thought a loyal one. Why would you try to kill your commanding officer? I presume I was the target?"
"After fifteen years I am only a Leader of Fifty. I deserve more."
Setnakhte considered the bound and bleeding man kneeling before him. "As I said, you are capable, but in my judgment you are at the rank you deserve. I could see you rising to Leader of a Hundred in a few years, but no more. Would you kill for such a slight promotion?"
"If I had succeeded I would be Troop Commander, maybe even Legion Commander."
"Who would have made you that, Meryset? Would Commander Ramesses have promoted you? Or Commander Panhesy? Someone else?"
Meryset said nothing, just staring at the floor.
"Come, Meryset, tell me who promised you this. It will go better for you if you are honest."
Meryset kept silent.
Ramesses cuffed the bound man's head. "Give me an hour and I will drag the truth out of him," he growled.
"You hear that, Meryset? Must we put you to the question to get the truth? Better for you to spare yourself some pain."
Setnakhte waited for a reply, but when there was none, shrugged. "Take him away, Commander Ramesses. Make sure he doesn't die, but get the truth out of him."
Meryset was dragged away and Ramesses followed. Setnakhte went to find Panhesy and was relieved to find that his wound was not judged to be serious. The spear point had scored a deep wound across the man's upper arm, but the cut had bled freely and was even then responding to the physician's treatment.
"You saved my life, Panhesy."
"No more than my...ah...duty, General."
"You suspected something, didn't you? I saw you look at him and then you yelled a warning."
"It was such a small thing, General. Meryset likes his food and yet here he was, standing in the doorway watching you walk by instead of heading for the kitchens like everyone else. I wondered why and then looked back just in time."
"Lucky for me you did. I'll not forget your vigilance."
"Do you know why he did it, General?"
"It seems he was put up to it when he was passed over for promotion. Ramesses is..." Setnakhte was interrupted by a hoarse scream emanating from the cell area. "...interrogating Meryset as we speak. If I know my son, we'll have the answer quickly."
***
Meryset held out for a full day, but no man could hold out much longer when inventive minds explored the pain threshold. The Leader of Fifty screamed a lot, and wept, begging for mercy and for death but, broken and bleeding; he told everything that he knew. Ramesses had a scribe take down Meryset's confession and carried it to his father.
"It is as I suspected, father. An agent of the king bribed Meryset with promises of gold, land and advancement if only he would kill you."
"Who was the agent?"
"Meryset had no name, but he is sure he came from the king."
"You are certain of that? From Sitre Meryamun Tausret? There is no mistake?"
"None, father. Sitre wants you dead."
Setnakhte paced the floor, slapping his fist into his open hand. "Does she not realise I have done nothing to counter her? I would do nothing. I may not support her claim to the throne, but I do not support anyone else's either."
"Yours is the better claim, father, and it seems she now realises that. The only way she can safeguard her throne is to kill you, so she has ordered her assassin down to Waset."
"Doesn't she realise this will plunge the country into civil war again? I cannot ignore this attempt."
"She must believe she can win."
"So she will risk all. Well, if that is what she wants, that is what she will get. Prepare the legions and send word to Shabalko. If Taharqa is still undecided, have him relieved of his command, but I want the Kushite legion in Waset inside a month."
"What about Tjaty Hori?" Ramesses asked. "He's loyal to Sitre Tausret."
Setnakhte thought for a few moments. "He's a good man. Give him a choice. He can stand aside and remain at liberty, or he can be incarcerated."
"My guess is he'll send a warning northward that the plot has failed and that you have openly rebelled."
"Well, shut the city up tight then. Nobody leaves without my permission."
"Yes, father." Ramesses turned to go and then hesitated. "Will you claim the throne?"
Setnakhte nodded slowly. "When the time is right. First we must defeat the northern legions."
Chapter 43
Ament speaks:
A brief message from Hori saying only that an attempt had been made on General Setnakhte's life arrived in Men-nefer over a month ago. Since t
hen, nothing. I have sent men south to find out what is happening, but they report back that Waset is locked up tighter than a cat's back passage. People are allowed in, but no one is allowed out. Something has happened, and I fear it is nothing good, for the Kushite legion has also marched north and is nearing Amun's City.
Who was it that made the attempt on Setnakhte's life, and why? I have been quite forthright in my opinion that the way out of our current troubles would be to assassinate the General, but if I had sanctioned it, I would have succeeded. All that seems to have happened is that he has been alerted and will be much harder to kill in the future. And who knows how he will react? That is why I need to know who did it. If it is an internal matter, a result of some slight whether real or imagined, Setnakhte would deal with it and that would be an end to it. But if the king is somehow implicated, the General may decide this is the first act in a battle for survival. He assured my Lady Sitre Tausret that he would not be the first to break the peace, but if he imagines she has broken it, he may attempt to grasp the throne.
All right, let us imagine that he now desires the Double Crown--can he succeed? On the face of it he has three legions against our eight and would be a fool to risk everything on a throw of the stones, but do we really have eight legions? It hinges on the four experienced legions--Re, Heru, Set and Ptah--and their General. Set is loyal to a man for I have made sure of that, but there is some doubt about the others. General Iurudef too. He has offered qualified support for the king, indicating that her path to success depends on her ability to rule well. He has a point, I suppose, but the gods have accepted her as king and who is any man to deny what the gods have allowed?
So, let us suppose that Setnakhte has decided to rebel openly. He marches north with three legions and we must send legions south to oppose him. Who do we send? Two of the experienced four are needed for the northern border, so if I was in command, I would send Set and Re south with two of the auxiliary legions, say Sept and Shu. It would be an even match and everything would depend on superior tactics on the day and the favour of the gods.
That it should come to this. The House of Ramesses is down to its last true king and the pretenders are out in force, seeking to wrest power away from a family that has ruled for a hundred and fifty years. Yes, I know Setnakhte is a scion of the great Usermaatre too, but he was never anywhere near the line of succession and has ideas far above his station. If only that unknown man had not attempted to kill him. I could have succeeded where he failed and the problem would have gone away. Well, it is no use weeping over a broken wine jar. It is done and we must make the best of it. A King's Council will be held later today to discuss the future and we will see what we will see.
***
The king has met with her Councillors and the decision is war. The latest report in from the south shows all three legions are armed and moving slowly northward. Unlike the army of Amenmesse, however, these men are not rapacious and are cheered on by the populace. The common man already calls Setnakhte king, though he has not, so far, claimed that title. Sitre Tausret will send three legions south to meet the rebel army--Re, Heru and Sobek. Set is to take its place in the north and I am to serve with it. Command of the army is given to Iurudef, at his request, and I cannot but feel apprehensive at this decision. Re is under the command of Disebek, a capable and loyal man, but Heru is commanded by Merymose who is relatively inexperienced and the Sobek legion under Ankhu is the least capable of the auxiliary legions. One has to ask why Iurudef would select these legions for his army.
In stark contrast to the cheering crowds in the south, our northern army set off today with the populace looking on in silence. Nobody wants war again, yet here we are tearing the fabric of the kingdoms apart and shattering Ma'at. The priests tell us the gods are on our side, but I am sure the priests in Waset have also told Setnakhte that the gods favour his enterprise.
I look at King Sitre Tausret and I see a woman who has visibly aged in the last year or so. Her son died and sundered her spirit and then the cares of the kingdoms were heaped upon her, crushing her under their weight. I think that if she had a choice, she would hand over the throne to someone else and retire. She always meant to, but her sense of duty was too strong. There is nothing that would give me more pleasure than to retire with her and serve her on her estates while others shouldered the burdens of state. I have been with her now twenty-five years and it is time she was allowed to be just a woman and I was allowed to be just a man.
Speaking of a man and a woman, a spy told me of an interesting bit of conversation that recently took place between Sitre Tausret and Tjaty Mentu. It had to do with the non-existent heir and Tausret's future plans. The spy said that the names of Setnakhte and Ramesses had been raised as possibilities for a future consort for the king. I dismissed the spy immediately, of course, and told him he must be mistaken, but it set me thinking.
Both Setnakhte and Ramesses are descended from royalty, lesser members of the House of Ramesses, and if she was looking for a man to sit beside her on the throne of Kemet, then either would be suitable. Setnakhte is old, but experienced and a ruler of men already; and his son Ramesses is younger and virile. If she seeks a husband to plant an heir in her belly, then the son is the logical choice.
Ah, but it hurts to consider the possibility. I loved Tausret when first I met her all those years ago, but of course my station in life was far too low for me to entertain any hope that she might reciprocate my feelings. I rose in rank to become Legion Commander, personal adviser and confidant, but no matter how high I rose I was always far below her. I loved her then, and I love her now, but I know better than to declare my love for her. I am a soldier and son of a fisherman and it is only under exceptional circumstances that a common man such as I might seek greater advancement.
Maybe those times are upon us...The House of Ramesses stumbles, falters and falls and the way opens up for a strong man to grasp the heka and nekhakha of authority, placing the crowns of the kingdoms upon his head, and ruling Kemet as the first of a new royal family. Will it be me? Could it be me?
Ha! Who do I seek to deceive if not myself? I am not a king, nor am I the stone of which a king might be carved. The only interest I have in the royalty of Kemet is the woman who sits upon the throne, and I am not for her. I will always love her and will die for her should the need arise, but I could never be king. Put that from your mind, Ament. Tausret is not for you.
Chapter 44
Year 1 (6) Sitre Meryamun Tausret
General Iurudef led the legions south, moving fast, knowing his opponent was heading north slowly and using the time to whip the Kushite legion into shape. His obvious thought was to face the northern legions with three disciplined legions of his own and inflict a decisive defeat. Iurudef knew that the longer Setnakhte went unchallenged and undefeated, the stronger his position would become, so the northern general meant to bring him to battle before he was ready and nip this rebellion in the bud. The continued kingship of Sitre Tausret depended on there being no credible challenges to her rule.
The land between Men-nefer and Waset was well known to all parties from the recent battles that had been fought upon it. Armies of Menmire Amenmesse and Userkheperure Seti had spilt blood in profusion upon the sand and rocky soil of the eastern desert, and there was every indication that more would soon be shed. The legions met some distance south of the all-but abandoned city of Akhetaten, on a battlefield that was haunted by the blood of thousands.
Iurudef was the first general to reach the rocky plain and he at once saw the possibilities for a chariot charge. His own legions had many chariots, whereas the southern legions relied more on conventional foot soldiers, leading him to believe that he could deliver a decisive defeat to Setnakhte. The plain itself was level but bore many scattered rocks and boulders that would interfere with a charge, so Iurudef had his men swarm out onto the field and pick up rocks, roll boulders away, casting the offending lithic fragments into the rocky desert to the east or down th
e cliffs to the river.
His right flank was secured by the river cliffs and his left by the boulder field of the stony desert, so Iurudef drew up his legions with the chariots of all three massed in the centre, facing the cleared plain. He stationed archers on the sides, with the massed foot soldiers to either side of the chariot squadrons, and settled down to wait for Setnakhte's forces. Scouts had told him the enemy legions were still a day away, but also that the land beyond was broken and uneven, unsuitable for his own battle plan.
The hours passed slowly. Iurudef had his men fed on cold meat and bread where they stood to arms, bedded them down in shifts without the benefit of tents and had cut forage and water brought to the horses. He was determined that the enemy was not going to take him by surprise, so he risked his men being uncomfortable for a day and night. Setnakhte's men would be marching to meet them and if the gods smiled, they would be tired and dispirited before the battle.
Dawn broke, and Iurudef led the praises to the gods and Re in particular who would look down on him as he defended the future of Kemet. Dust rose into the still morning air on the southern horizon and scouts came racing in to bring the news that the enemy was in sight.
"How many legions?" Iurudef demanded.
"Three, sir, but they appear to be undermanned, particularly the Kushites."