by Max Overton
"What now?" Tausret asked.
"I would ask you again to flee into the west. As long as you remain at liberty, we can rally loyal men to your cause. If you fall or are captured, all is lost."
"I am King of Kemet; I cannot run from my enemies. Better to die on the battlefield."
"Then let us make our way north and see if we cannot join up with Set and Sobek. At least we will die in brave company."
They followed the ridge north, and the enemy sent to block them from returning to the city marched with them, though more slowly on the muddy plain. As they neared the battle, more men detached from Setnakhte's army and the Re legion advanced toward them.
"It's the traitor Ahhotep of Re," Ament muttered. "He'll wish he'd remained loyal by the time I'm done with him."
Ament called to Ramose and together they organised the Khent-abt legion into a semblance of readiness. The only real advantage they had was that the approaching Re legion had to climb the low ridge to get to them. They waited, axes and spears at the ready, and just before the ranks of the enemy reached them, the Khent-abt soldiers knelt and archers poured a withering volley of arrows into the Re soldiers. The enemy fell in droves, and now Khent-abt charged downhill, the shock of their assault shattering the Re legion.
Ament saw Ahhotep rallying his men and pointed. He leapt forward, sword swinging, and he and a double handful of men carved their way through the mass of struggling men and engaged the legion commander. It did not take long; Ament fought with a cold fury, while all Ahhotep could call on was a desire to live. The Re commander failed, and went down into death at the hands of Ament.
Despite the attack of Khent-abt and the loss of their commander, Re rallied and, still outnumbering Khent-abt, pushed back, forcing the King's men onto the ridge once more. Ament retreated and found Tausret near the legion standards. She had taken up a sword and fought alongside a group of young officers who vied for her respect and approval. When her General approached, she drew back and wiped the sweat from her eyes with the back of one bloodied hand.
"They are better fighters than the Ribu," she said.
"And now they lack a commander," Ament replied grimly. "It will not stop them though."
Khent-abt fought their way north, their numbers decreasing with every step they took, and Re harried them all the way. The ridge became lower, leading toward the main battle, and now both sides saw the royal banners flying and turned toward them, though with different intents. The lines of battle bent and broke, with the Set legion hurrying to defend their king, and Amun and Shu charging to the attack. With the strength of Set gone, Sobek went under, overwhelmed by the other rebel legions. Ankhu fought bravely to the last, but was cut down along with most of his men.
Mose fought his way to Ament's side and in a break from the fighting, grinned at him. "Thought you were never going to make it, sir."
"Nearly didn't. How is your command?"
"Down to three-quarter strength, and most of us are exhausted."
"Gods curse Djutep and his men. I saw them change sides."
Mose nodded. "Volunteering to get the thorns was just an excuse to leave the camp. He went straight to Setnakhte and surrendered."
Ramesses led a charge against the knot of soldiers around Tausret, and talking was put aside until they had thrown the Amun legion back.
"Have you got a plan, sir?" Mose asked. "Just asking, you understand. If you haven't, well..." He slashed at an Amun soldier who stumbled within range, "...there's always more of this."
"The only plan I have involves getting the king to safety, but she won't go. Says she won't leave her men."
"Bless her," Mose muttered, "but you've got to make her see sense. She's all we're fighting for, and it'd be for nothing if she died."
Ament broached the subject with Tausret once more, this time backed up by Ramose and Mose, as Ramesses launched another attack on her position. As they watched, the remnants of the Khent-abt legion disintegrated, some throwing down their weapons and others fleeing for their lives.
"It's come to this, Majesty," Mose yelled above the clamour of battle. "You die here and now and all these lives have been wasted, or you live to give hope to every loyal person in the kingdoms."
"Don't let my men have died in vain," Ramose added.
"Live," Ament urged.
The line of Set soldiers shivered under renewed attacks, and now others were swarming toward them.
"Quickly, Majesty. Before we are cut off. Save some lives out of this mess."
Tausret stared around at the bloody battlefield, tears streaming from her eyes. She nodded. "Very well; if it will save lives."
Mose whirled and looked around, picking out his officers among the throng of struggling men. "Men of Set, to me! First Troop, strike to the left, Third troop to centre, Fifth to the right. Second, Fourth and Sixth to the standard. Move!"
Ramose similarly called to his few remaining men and officers, concentrating them around the person of the king, and then Ament led the way, breaking away to the west, retreating from the battle into the stony wastes of the western desert where chariots could not easily go. The three Troops of Set fought on, slowly giving ground and guarding the retreat of their king. They fell back, running to catch up with the rest of their legion and then forming up again in a protective cordon. Their discipline was in contrast to the mob of soldiers that pursued them and despite being outnumbered, successfully fought their way through the day to the relative safety of the night.
As the pursuit fell away, the Set legion pushed on into the west, slowing and stumbling with exhaustion until all sights and sounds of the other legions faded from the senses. Eventually, Ament called a halt and the few hundred survivors of Set just collapsed where they stood. Tausret called Ament, Mose and Ramose together, and insisted the Troop Commanders join them.
"I'd have every man here if I could," she said. "Every man has given their all today and deserves to know what we decide."
"Our options are rapidly narrowing," Ament said. "We have no food, no water, and the men are exhausted. When the sun rises tomorrow, the following legions will be upon us and then we surrender or die."
"My men will give a good account of themselves before they do," Mose said grimly. His Troop Commanders nodded, vague shadows in the starlight, and one or two murmured their assent.
"And what's left of Khent-abt," Ramose added. "I have only a handful left, but there is fight in them still."
"No," Tausret said softly. "I will not have another man die for me. We will surrender and ask for mercy. Setnakhte is a reasonable man and if he truly hopes to heal our land, he will show mercy."
"Never, Majesty," Mose declared.
"Do not disobey me in this, Commander Mose," Tausret said. "The time for fighting is over, and Setnakhte has won. Make your peace with him."
"You cannot surrender, my love," Ament said. "Setnakhte will humble you before the Kingdoms and then marry you off to his son Ramesses, and that I could not bear. I will die first, and take them with me if I can."
"You are right, beloved, I cannot surrender, for to do so would be worse than death."
The Commanders looked at each other and drew back at Tausret's words, obviously embarrassed to be listening in to sentiments of love between their king and their General.
"I will kill myself before I let myself be humiliated," Tausret added.
"And I with you," Ament said. Ignoring the presence of the Commanders, he took Tausret in his arms and kissed her. "But not here, not now. I would not have our lifeless bodies paraded through the streets of Men-nefer and held up to ridicule."
"Then where? When?"
"We will walk into the desert and lose ourselves in the wilderness. Nobody will find our bodies."
They took leave of their faithful commanders and of the men, amid much wailing and protestations of undying loyalty. Each man was thanked for their contribution and sorrow expressed for every injury suffered by them. At last they finished their farewells, urged o
n by Mose, who said the night was wearing on and if they did not leave soon, their efforts to escape unseen would be futile.
Hand in hand, Ament and Tausret walked into the western desert, carrying no more than a crust of bread and a flask of water. Tausret had not wanted to take anything, but as Ament explained, they had to keep their strength up long enough to elude any pursuit. As dawn broke, they were far to the west and north, skirting a large area of loose sand that would have impeded their progress. They sat on a rock and contemplated the first rays of the sun and the warmth it brought.
"I'm sorry I brought you to this, beloved," Tausret said. "I should have left you as a plain army officer. Then you'd be safe."
"I don't regret any of it, my love," Ament said, squeezing her hand.
They sat in silence for a time watching the sun rise above the red desert.
"Is that dark smudge on the horizon Ta Mehu?" Tausret asked. "That's the only thing I regret. I'd like to have died in my lovely green and well-watered land."
"And my only regret is that I never said goodbye to my sister and my adopted sons Jerem and Ephrim."
Tausret shaded her eyes and stared into the east. "They're just over there, you know. Do you think we could elude Setnakhte's patrols long enough to see them? Perhaps we could do away with both our regrets."
Ament smiled through cracked lips. "Entirely possible, my love."
Chapter 53
Tausret speaks:
We nearly did not make it back from the western desert. The small amount of bread and water we had lasted no more than that morning, and despite the apparent nearness of that dark smudge of well-watered land, it took us two days to traverse the intervening rock and sand. I will say little of the privations we suffered for I am well aware that others have suffered far more, but when our strength failed, Ament found a scrap of shade and a scorpion. Deprived of its sting and crushed with a rock, its juices sustained us, and nearer to Ta Mehu he found us grasshoppers and the fruits of some desert plant. He told me the name of it but I have forgotten, being more concerned with extracting a little bit of juice from its slightly bitter flesh.
I almost wept when we came to pasture and a little further on a tiny farming community of no more than a handful of huts. The people were poor and had so little in the way of food, that they could spare no more than a cup of milk and a handful of grain. They apologised for their lack of hospitality, saying that foraging soldiers had long since stripped them of their meagre possessions. One of my copper bracelets was worth far more than the food they gave us, but I pressed it on them, feeling guilty that my people should have suffered so.
The villages along the banks of the river were better off, for they at least had a never-ending supply of fish. Another bracelet bought us fish, a little bread, and passage across the westernmost arm of the river. We were not recognised--hardly surprising, for who would look to find a king and a general walking a muddy road or eating fish and bread beside a small fire on the riverbank? Not that I was a king any longer, nor Ament a general. Setnakhte had seen to that. Now we were only a man and a woman, anonymous commoners amongst ten thousand others.
Several more days brought us to the next arm of the river, the one on which Per-Bast sat. I was down to my last piece of jewellery by then, having had to buy food on our journey, but Ament bought us passage across the river by means of his own skills. He had been a fisherman in his youth, before he became a soldier, and he hired himself out for a few days. The young men of the surrounding villages had been taken off to be soldiers, so his skills with a boat and net were in much demand.
Two more days saw us nearing Per-Bast and the vineyards that were the property of Ament's sister Ti-ament and her Kaftor husband Zeben. Ament's two adopted sons, Jerem and Ephrim lived there too, and Ament assured me we would be warmly welcomed. Well, he was partially right--they were glad to see us, but our welcome was less than warm.
"Thank the gods you are safe," Ti-Ament said, "but you can't stay here."
"Forgive my wife," Zeben added. "She is concerned that your presence will bring the soldiers down on us again. You are welcome...er, how do I address you?"
"Just plain Ament will do, and..."
"And Tau," I interposed. "I am no one special now."
"Except to me," Ament said with a smile.
"And to us," Jerem and Ephrim added together.
Ti-ament sighed and embraced her brother, but looked warily at me. "Come inside. You must be hungry and tired. You can stay a while, but..." she shook her head and hurried off to the kitchen.
I followed, and helped her clean platters and prepare food and drink. "We don't intend staying," I assured her. "Ament only came to say his farewells."
"It's not that I'm not glad to see him...or you, Majesty..."
"Just Tau, remember."
Ti-ament nodded. "We had soldiers here a few days ago. From the Amun legion, I think, and they searched the place for my brother. They knew I was his sister and questioned us all at length about his whereabouts. They may come back."
"Then we won't stay. Perhaps you could give us some food and blankets and we can sleep out somewhere. I don't have anything to pay you with...a single bracelet and a ring, but..."
"What do you take me for?" Ti-ament said indignantly. "Hospitality is not paid for. We owe everything to you anyway, so what we have is yours. I'm only afraid for my children." She had tears in her eyes, and I felt ashamed.
It was something new for me, but I thought I owed it to her, so I knelt on the hard-packed earth of the floor and embraced her knees. "Forgive me, Ti-ament. I spoke without thinking."
Now she became flustered and all but dragged me to my feet and we embraced like sisters. We carried food and wine into the other room and spread out the meal for everyone. We ate quickly and then leaned back in our chairs.
"What are your plans?" Zeben asked.
"We had none beyond coming here to see you," Ament said. "I could not die without bidding you all farewell."
"Dying?" Ephrim exclaimed. "What do you mean?"
"Only that if I am caught, I will die painfully. I would rather die at my own hand."
"And I," I added. "Setnakhte wants to shame me and I'd rather die."
Zeben frowned. "There must be somewhere you can live. I'd welcome you here, but I think anywhere in Kemet would be unsafe."
"What about among the Retenu?" Jerem asked. "No one would think to look for you there. And we'd come with you." He pointed at his brother.
"You are our father, after all," Ephrim said. "It is our duty to look after our parents."
"At least our father, seeing as he has no wife."
"Yet," I said softly.
"What?" Ament stared at me. "Did I hear you right? You'd consider it?"
"Marrying you? Of course. Were you waiting for me to ask you?"
"Men," Ti-ament said. "Leave it up to them and nothing would get done."
Zeben smiled and squeezed his wife's hand. "I wouldn't call our five children nothing."
Ament had blushed deeply. "I...I can understand taking a lover, but marrying me? I am only a humble soldier...not even that."
"And I am no longer a king, or even a member of the royal family," I said. "So what impediment is there to getting married?"
"None, I suppose, but...well, marriage implies a commitment to home and family, and we're homeless..."
"But not without a family," declared Ephrim. "Jerem and I are your sons."
"And another child is due," I whispered. I must have blushed myself, for while the men just stared, Ti-Ament broke into a delighted smile and embraced me once more.
"When?" she asked.
"I don't know." I thought back over recent events. "Another six months, I think."
"Then we have time. We must find a place for you to stay well before the birth, though, as you should not travel close to your time."
Ament wore a foolish grin. "I'm going to be a father?"
"You're a father already," I said, nodding to
ward Jerem and Ephrim.
"Uh, yes, of course, but..." He shook his head.
Zeben took charge. "You cannot stay in Kemet; it's too dangerous. Nor can you reasonably exist in the western desert, Kush, or the Land of Sin. That only leaves the north. I think that your sons have suggested the perfect solution--you must seek refuge among the Retenu."
"Would they take us though?" I asked. "Being who we are."
"It would be safer not to tell them. You will be the aging parents of two fine young men. You have skills, Ament, as a soldier, a fisherman, and I dare say you can turn your hand to farming. I don't think you'll have any trouble fitting in."
"But we're Kemetu," Ament said. "That will count against us."
Zeben grinned. "How can you be? You have two Retenu sons. You have obviously lived many years in Kemet, which is why you have a strange accent, but others have done that too. Change your names and don't ever reveal who you were."
We talked it over some more, but our future was effectively settled. In a few days time, Ament and I would travel northeast with our sons, on two donkeys, until we reached the lands of the Retenu. Here we would seek refuge, submerging our identities beneath those of two ordinary people. We would change our names and live in anonymity for the rest of our lives.
I am content. I have been as high in Kemetu society as it is possible to go. I have been king, queen, regent, princess, mother, and God's Wife. Now I will be a peasant and scratch a living from the soil and from a flock of goats. I shall raise my child to be honourable in the sight of the gods--of whatever nation he or she chooses. I am content, for though I lack worldly goods I have two strong sons, another child on the way, and above all a kind and gentle man I can love and who loves me. What more could a woman want?