The Amarnan Kings, Book 4: Scarab - Ay

by Overton, Max

  "You were wounded in the battle outside the gates of Waset?"

  "Yes, Divine One."

  "Tell me about it."

  Meny licked his lips and his hands gripped the arms of the chair. "I...I was with my men...my Fifty, when the pretender attacked..." He started to talk faster, taking less care with his words. "We was under orders from Troop Commander Mose...'e orders us to run around be'ind the Nubian tribesmen and take 'em from the rear." Meny swallowed and glanced nervously at the queen. "You saw the battle, Divine One? Forgive me, lady, I means no disrespect..."

  "It is alright Meny. No, I didn't see the battle, but I've heard about it."

  Meny nodded vigorously. "Well, you starts with straight lines and everyone watching your comrades' backs, but very soon it all gets mixed up like and nobody knows what's going on except some cursed bugger's trying to kill you...pardon me words, Divine One. I is not used to talking wiv...wiv royals."

  "I understand," Ankhesenamen said gently. "Go on, Meny; is that when you were wounded?"

  "Yes Divine One. We was all fightin' 'ard and mixed up and this bugger sticks a spear in me leg. I woulda died but me comrade Ipy--'e's from the same village as me--'e kills the bugger and drags me back. 'E saved me life, Divine One."

  "And I am very glad he did, Meny. You are a loyal soldier of the King's Northern Army. I must reward your friend Ipy."

  Meny grimaced. "It's too late, Divine One. 'E was killed that same day."

  "Oh, I am sorry. Does he...did he have a family?"

  "A wife and two young daughters, Divine One. They'll be feeling the pinch now without a bread-winner. 'E's a second cousin of mine, so I'll 'elp when I cans, of course..."

  "He was a brave man, Meny, and bravery should not go unrewarded. I will give you Gold of Valour of ten deben weight to take back to his family..."

  "Oh, my lady...Divine One..." Meny fell forward off his chair and pressed his forehead to the stone floor, clasping the queen's ankles. "May the blessings of the gods be upon you."

  "Enough, Meny. Rise and be seated. There are other things to talk about." Ankhesenamen signalled to the Chamberlain and ordered him to have beer and honey cakes brought in. When these arrived, she ordered everyone outside the room. The guards moved reluctantly but the queen reassured them. "This soldier is a loyal man from the King's army. I am in no danger. Close the doors and wait outside until I call you."

  Meny turned in his chair and watched the others file from the room. He frowned when the doors closed and he turned back to face the queen. "My lady?" he queried. "What is it you want of me?"

  "In a moment." Ankhesenamen gestured at the beer and food on the low table beside them. "Are you hungry?" When the soldier shook his head, she grinned and took a honey cake for herself, breaking a small piece off and nibbling it. "You should try it, they are good."

  "I know, Divine One, my father's sister makes them in your kitchens." Meny blushed and to cover his confusion, took a cake and bit off a large piece.

  "You are loyal to Horemheb, Meny?"

  Meny chewed and swallowed before answering. "I am the King's man, Divine One. I obey the General of All the Armies, Lord Horemheb, and my general, Paramessu."

  "And now that the king has died?"

  Meny looked down, the honey cake forgotten in his hand. "T...to his successor, Divine One."

  "And who is that?" Ankhesenamen asked softly.

  "Divine One, I am a humble soldier; that is not for me to say. I obey the commands of my superiors."

  "King Nebkheperure, my husband, has no heir. Whoever marries his widow will become king of Kemet."

  "You are to marry again?" Meny blushed scarlet and dropped to his knees again. "Forgive me, Divine One. I should be punished for daring to ask such a question."

  "Get up, Meny. I need someone I can talk to--someone loyal to the king. You fought for him and were wounded. If I cannot trust you, who can I trust?"

  "You can trust me, Divine One," Meny said simply. "I would willingly have laid down my life for my king. I can do no less for my queen."

  "Then I have a task for you."

  "Name it, Divine One."

  "I want you to find General Horemheb and carry a letter to him. It is vital that no one but he reads it." Ankhesenamen noticed the soldier's hesitation and her heart sank. "You will not do it?"

  "Willingly, Divine One...but where is General Horemheb? Do you know?"

  "I hoped you would as you were a member of his army."

  "I am only a Leader of a Hundred. The General does not take me into his confidence. I only know that he pursued the rebels southward toward Nubia."

  "You could find him?"

  "Probably, but it would take time." Meny patted his bandaged leg. "This slows me considerably, Divine One."

  "The matter is urgent." Ankhesenamen sighed. "Never mind. You may go now, Meny. Leave the name of your friend Ipy's village with my Chamberlain and I will make sure his family receives his Gold of Valour."

  "My lady, I have a friend who could take the letter in my place."

  "Can he be trusted?"

  "Yes, Divine One. He too is a king's man. And as importantly, he is swift of foot."

  "What is his name?"

  "Bebi, also from my village. He is my cousin's third son."

  "Does he know Lord Horemheb by sight?"

  Meny nodded. "He has received gold by the General's own hand."

  Ankhesenamen got up and walked to the window, turning over in her mind the risks of entrusting a letter of such importance to the hand of an unknown soldier. What if he runs to Ay? Well, I am no worse off if he does. If I do nothing on the other hand ...The queen turned, her decision made. "Bring your friend to the palace at sunset, Meny. Ask to see Mery-Re the Chamberlain. He will bring you to me."

  When Meny had left, Queen Ankhesenamen called the Chamberlain to her and explained what would happen that evening. She extracted an oath from him that he would divulge nothing of what had transpired, and then dismissed him. She walked back to her own apartments with her guards and sent for a scribe. The young man who turned up with his palette of inks, papyrus scrolls and reed brushes was told merely to leave his writing equipment. Slowly, Ankhesenamen put together a letter to Horemheb.

  'My Lord Horemheb, General of Kemet and Tjaty of Ta Mehu, your Queen greets you. The King my husband, Nebkheperure Tutankhamen, has died of his wounds sustained in the battle, defending his Kingdoms against the usurper. Lord Ay, formerly Tjaty of Ta Shemau, has taken control of the city and intends to usurp the kingship by the opening of the mouth ceremony at Nebkheperure's burial and marrying me by force thereafter. I bid you, in all haste, to return to Waset with your army and rescue Kemet and myself from this fate. You have sixty days, no more.'

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  Chapter Three

  Horemheb and his legions had made good time in their pursuit of the rebels. They had harried the routed Nubians, nipping at their heels, right up to the city of Ta-senet, where Menkure and the leaders of the rebellion holed up. The gates closed in the face of the pursuing legions, also excluding over five thousand of the rebel force. Leaderless, these fled south along the river and Horemheb detached the Heru legion under the command of Djedhor to follow and destroy them. He also made sure that his own standard accompanied the Heru legion in the hope that it would tempt Menkure into an indiscretion. The rebels were not fooled, or if they were, they were too demoralised to try an attack. Therefore, Horemheb waited, with the rest of his men, outside the walls of Ta-senet to see what the rebel leaders would do.

  Menkure knew exactly what fate awaited him if he was caught, so that night he broke out of the city with his men and fled along the Kharga Road. The Re and Khent-abt legions followed, the odds more nearly even now that the rebel forces had split. The legionaries surged up to the running tribesmen and unleashed a deadly hail of arrows and spears, falling back before the howling Nubians could retaliate. When the rebels resumed their retreat, leaving their dead and
wounded behind, the legions could recover most of their weapons before launching the next assault. They reached Sitweh twenty days after the battle at Waset and turned south into the wilderness of Kush.

  Horemheb called a meeting of the legion commanders as his troops marched into the oasis town of Sitweh, the dust cloud from the retreating rebels still conspicuous to the south. He ordered the soldiers fed and rested for one hour. Troop Commander Mose planted the Tjaty's standard beneath a palm tree and set out a wooden stool for his general in the deepest part of the shade. Horemheb waved his commanders to sit on the bare ground and accepted a long draught of tepid water before speaking.

  "This is taking too long," he growled. "I was hoping they would have turned to fight by now. I have no wish to pursue these rebels the length and breadth of Nubia. How can we bring them to battle?"

  "Close up on them," Hednakht, commander of the Re legion said. "Then when they turn as they have before, launch an all out attack."

  "They still outnumber us at least two to one," Horemheb commented. "And our pursuit would be disorganised--we could not prevent it. Those are long odds without a disciplined fighting force."

  "Could we not issue a challenge, sir?" Djeserkare, the newly appointed commander of the Khent-abt legion asked. "We could then approach in battle order."

  "Menkure would be a fool to accept a challenge," Hednakht said. "His best course is to melt away into a wilderness he knows and we don't."

  "Then how are we to do it? I have been charged with bringing back the heads of the ringleaders and the destruction of the rebel army. I would not want to disappoint my king--would you?" Both legion commanders shook their heads.

  "What if we could make him stop?" Mose asked. "And then fall on him with a disciplined army before he knows what we are about?"

  "It's not in his interest to stop and fight," Hednakht reiterated. "So why would he?"

  Mose smiled. "What if he ran straight into another legion? He'd stop then, at least long enough for us to come up on him."

  "What legion?" Djeserkare asked. "There is no other legion."

  "I was thinking of the Heru."

  Horemheb frowned. "What are you talking about? The Heru is chasing the other rebels along the river. They are nowhere near us."

  "I wasn't thinking of the actual legion, sir. Just enough men with a few Hawk standards to give the rebels pause."

  "I have no idea what you're talking about." Horemheb stretched and yawned. "Speak simply or stop wasting my time."

  "Yes sir. The rebels are about an hour ahead of us--a bit more by now. They are tired, and if we do not pursue they will camp for the night. They need rest as much as we do. What I propose is we take a couple of hundred of our fittest men and run through the night to curve around in front of them. Towards dawn, the main group heads out and the rebels will flee ahead of them until they run into the waiting soldiers."

  Horemheb nodded slowly. "You don't imagine two hundred exhausted men will be able to take on the rebel army, do you?"

  "No sir. They won't have to. The rebels in Ta-senet saw the Heru legion set off up-river after the others with Lord Horemheb in command. If they see Heru standards flown openly, they might think the legion has disposed of the others and cut them off. I don't think they'll attack until they're sure. That will give enough time for everyone else to come up behind them."

  Djeserkare made a rude noise. "The sun has addled your reasoning, Mose. A commander like Menkure will never fall for that. He'll just roll over your two hundred to no good purpose."

  "Possibly," Hednakht agreed. "But all they have to do is hold them in indecision for an hour. Once we hit them from behind we'll crush them, outnumbered or no."

  "It'll take more than a handful of spearmen and a couple of cobbled together Hawk standards to give the impression Lord Horemheb and the Heru legion confronts them," Djeserkare said.

  Horemheb nodded. "You are right, Djeserkare--that is why I'll accompany the two hundred runners."

  The commanders stared at their general. Mose recovered first, having been with the general the longest. "No general, you cannot."

  Horemheb smiled. "Are you now General of All the Armies that you can command me?"

  Mose flushed but refused to back down. "I'm sorry general, I did not mean it like that, but really, you cannot go."

  "Why not?" Horemheb's voice was low but there was no mistaking the glint in his eyes. The legion commanders eased away from Mose.

  Mose saw the movement and despised the commanders for their self-interest. "My lord, you have always valued honesty and straight speech. Hear me now." He dropped to one knee and stretched out his hands imploringly. "There is no guarantee the two hundred will survive--nor any great likelihood. If we lost you then this whole enterprise is over. The risk is too great. You must not do it."

  "Is that all? I thought more of you Mose. A soldier's life is often dangerous. Which one of you would not command that unit knowing it was certain death, if I ordered it? Do you expect me to shirk any duty I would command others to perform? How little you know me, Mose." He paused, his lips curling in disdain. "Perhaps I should find myself another Troop Commander."

  "You command and I obey, my lord, but hear me out, I beg."

  "Continue then."

  "My lord, you are too old and fat to keep up."

  Hednakht and Djeserkare gasped and the younger man drew his dagger. "Treason," he hissed.

  "Put your dagger away, Djeserkare, but thank you for your loyalty. Explain yourself, Mose, or are you reduced to insults now when reason has failed you?"

  Mose took a deep breath and let it out slowly, dismissing all fear from his mind. "We all know you for Kemet's foremost general and you are second to none in wisdom and experience. Few men would risk combat with you and your prowess both on and off the field of battle is legendary. However, my lord, age comes to us all and there is nothing we can do about it. Furthermore, for the last few years the king called you from the army to assume the role of Tjaty of Ta Mehu. Like it or not, my lord, you have eaten better in the palace and trained less. Your body reflects this good living. Looking at you, I would say you are much less fit than you were as general and I fear you would be unable to keep up with two hundred of our fleetest warriors."

  Horemheb said nothing for many seconds but blood flushed his face and neck dark. He rose from his stool and towered over the kneeling Mose, his hands clenching and unclenching. "You are a brave man, Mose," he whispered. "Will you stake your life on your words?"

  Mose swallowed. "As my lord wishes."

  "I will lead the two hundred runners and you will come with me. If I cannot keep up I will retire from the army. If I keep up, your life is forfeit. Do you accept?"

  "I...I...my lord, my life is yours b...but I do not seek your r...retirement," Mose stuttered.

  "Then you had better hope I am fitter than you think," Horemheb said grimly. "Get up and choose your men, Mose. We leave within the hour."

  The Troop Commander got to his feet, his face drawn and pale. He bowed and departed, stumbling several times before he reached the resting men. Horemheb watched him, his face impassive, before turning back to his legion commanders.

  "You would not really retire, would you?" Hednakht asked.

  "You doubt me too?"

  "No, my lord...but if...would you?"

  "Of course. If I can no longer do what I ask my men to do, it is time I took another wife and settled down to look after my estates. Now, enough of that. You are in charge, Hednakht. Bring the legions on slowly, not pressing the rebels too closely. I want them to feel safe enough stopping for the night. But I also want you in battle formation at dawn, ready to strike at their rear when they attack me and my two hundred. Can you do it?"

  "Yes my lord."

  Mose assembled two hundred of the fittest men in the legions and made sure they were armed with spears and swords, or bows. A flask of water, a bedding roll and food completed their gear. Several also carried lightweight standards display
ing crudely painted hawks. Horemheb walked along the lines of men, examining their equipment and testing the edges of their bronze blades. He talked as he went, swapping reminiscences with some of the soldiers, joking with others or commending them on their performance in the recent battles. Mose trailed along behind his general, marvelling that he could remember so many names. He knew all of them himself, but only because he had picked these men out personally.

  The troop commander found himself comparing the lean bodies of his picked soldiers with the thickset muscular body of the general. He'll never keep up. But what then? It would be a disaster if he retires. What can I do ?

  Horemheb finished his inspection and beckoned to Mose. "Leave behind the bedding and food. We travel light and fast. They can eat their fill after we destroy the rebels."

  Minutes later, Horemheb waved the men forward and led them out to the southeast, angling away from the beaten track that marked the passage of the rebel army. They ran at a steady jog for the first few thousand paces until muscles loosened and the men settled down into a steady rhythm. Then as the shadows lengthened, so did Horemheb's strides. By the time the sun set they were out of sight of Sitweh and the empty plains of northern Kush spread all about them. Mose brought up the rear of the rough column of men, keeping an eye on the state of his soldiers, looking for trouble. One man bruised his foot badly on a stone and fell behind, struggling to keep up until Mose told him to return to Sitweh. Another twisted an ankle crossing a small dry streambed, and a handful of others slowed sufficiently that they hindered the others. These too were sent back.

  Horemheb remained at the head of the column. He carried no weapons, or any burden save his own bulk, but his limbs moved steadily, his body drenched in sweat as he drove the men onward, forcing the young soldiers to emulate his feats.

  Mose watched his general closely, wondering just what he would do if...when...his strength faltered. He increased his speed, slowly moving up past the column of men until he was running just behind the general. "My lord?"

  "Yes?" Horemheb did not look round.

  "It is getting dark. We should stop to rest the men and get our bearings."