“Our ancestor Senwasret erected the Wall of Princes between the Delta and Rethennu hentis ago to keep the Setiu out and to protect the Horus Road into the east,” Aahotep reflected. “He could not have imagined that they would still come seeping past his defences, first as sheep herders pasturing their flocks and then as traders, that they would become masters of Egypt through commerce. Perhaps through commerce you may slowly strangle them, my son. How ironic that would be!”
“It is certainly one weapon I have considered,” Ahmose agreed. “But Apepa’s fellow Princes in Rethennu, those he calls his ‘brothers,’ do not want him to relinquish Egypt without a fight. We provide them with too many riches. Spies in the Delta from the navy at Het nefer Apu tell me that their soldiers continue to trickle in.”
“They can keep coming steadily while we are hampered by the Inundation and are immobilized,” Hor-Aha put in gruffly. “It may eventually be necessary to fight them even while Egypt lies under the flood.”
“That is why Kamose was anxious to form a navy,” Ahmose pointed out. “He foresaw such an eventuality from the moment we learned of the influx of Setiu from Rethennu. And that is why, General, I need an army that will not disband and scatter every year.” Hor-Aha frowned.
“I do not think you will defeat them this year, Majesty,” he offered.
“Neither do I,” Ahmose admitted. “But my grip can tighten around their fat necks. I have the upper hand and I intend to keep it.” He poked about intently in a dish of shat cakes and honeyed figs encased in pastry. “Ipi, are you following us?” he asked.
“Yes, indeed, Majesty.” The scribe’s voice floated up from his position on the floor. “But I hope I have a sufficient supply of papyrus sheets.”
“Ah, papyrus,” Ahmose commented, abandoning the food for the wine jug. “Now that is something the Keftiu crave.” He glanced around at them all. “I wish to pass now to the reconstruction of our forces. We can still call upon fifty-five thousand men, eleven divisions, can we not, General? Apart from the few hundred Ramose, Mesehti and Makhu pursued and killed during the rebellion.”
“Yes, Majesty. But only one division is quartered here.”
“I know. I want you to arm yourself with scribes and go to every nome. Begin to interview every officer I have. Talk to them about the men under them. Note any that have impressed their superiors either by their expertise in weaponry or by an ability to lead. Judge the officers’ own fitness to continue as such and weed out those with direct allegiance to any prince, living or dead. Bring all names and descriptions to me. Until the Delta is completely mine I need all eleven divisions active, but I want to retain five divisions of infantry and one of marines permanently, all officers to be answerable only to me as Commander-in-Chief. We will discuss the breakdown of troops later, but it will be far more precise than ever before.”
“May I include the Medjay in this survey?” Hor-Aha enquired with a hesitation Aahmes-nefertari had never seen in him before, and Ahmose shook his head.
“No. The Medjay will return to being an irregular force, adaptable to any situation, with their own officers. Any Medjay officers at present commanding Egyptians will be replaced. And before you open your mouth to protest, Hor-Aha, think about it. A large part of the unrest that boiled up into revolt stemmed from resentment against both you and the Medjay. Egyptian soldiers are not ready to place their confidence in black skin, and Egyptian nobles consider you inferior to them in every way.” He leaned across the table and grasped Hor-Aha’s forearm. “I speak of harsh realities, my friend. I must. To me you are Egyptian, and not only Egyptian but one of the finest. I love you. I will not deprive you of the title of Prince my brother gave you, but it will not be used until the Double Crown sits on my head and the Horus Throne rests on the dais of the old palace. Forgive me and try to understand.”
“Oh, I understand,” Hor-Aha said huskily. He did not withdraw his arm, but Aahmes-nefertari saw its muscles tighten. “I have risked my life for your family. First Seqenenra, then your brother, received all the worship and loyalty I had to give. Indeed, your father was more to me than my own life and I loved him deeply. I have endured the arrogance and condescension of men who could not walk without falling over their own swords and who, when it came to military strategy, could see no farther than the end of their own aristocratic noses. And for this I am rewarded with contempt. It stings, Ahmose.” He swallowed. “Yet I am the greatest tactician you have and as such I know that if you are to build and control an army out of Kamose’s half-disciplined, half-trained rabble you must indulge its ignorance.” He fixed Ahmose with a cold stare. “Do not forget that I am Egyptian. Ny mother, Nithotep, was Egyptian. Regardless of the colour of my skin I belong here, and because I do and for no other reason, I will trust you to fulfil the promise Kamose made to me at the appropriate time and I will continue to be yours to command. You need me.” Now he took his arm away, pushing his silver bracelet up over the place where Ahmose’s fingers had grasped him, and Ahmose sat back.
“Of course I need you!” he repeated vehemently. “What else can I say? This meeting is at an end. Come to me tomorrow, Hor-Aha, before you leave. You have a month to gather the information I want. I will give you a more detailed list of the officer positions I intend to create. I would like to leave for the Delta as soon as Kamose is buried.” He came to his feet and the others followed. Bowing, Hor-Aha strode from the room and the door slammed behind him. Aahotep blew out her breath.
“Gods, Ahmose, I pray that you have not made an enemy of our most precious ally. Do you no longer trust him?”
“I love him, Mother,” Ahmose replied wearily. Dark smudges had appeared under his kohled eyes and his pallor betrayed more healing to be done in spite of his insistence that he had fully recovered from his wound. “I love him but I do not trust him. I have often sensed the kind of pride in him that must be bridled. He muzzles it, but without a firm hand on him it will bolt and destroy him.” Aahotep came around the table and, kissing him on the cheek, she drew her linen cloak around her and crossed to the door.
“I am astounded at the foresight and cunning you have shown this evening,” she said. “I should not be, for I birthed and raised you, but I am. Egypt will be safe with you. Sleep well, Majesty.” This time the door closed with a demure click. Ahmose’s shoulders slumped.
“I am suddenly very tired,” he murmured. “My head is pounding. I think I will drink poppy tonight, but I want you to sleep with me, Aahmes-nefertari. I need the feel of your body against mine. I would make love to you but I do not have the energy.” Going to him, Aahmes-nefertari put an arm around his waist.
“We can always lie side by side and pretend,” she teased him. Then more soberly she asked, “Ahmose, why did you exclude Ramose from this discussion?”
“Oddly enough Ramose is one man I do trust completely,” he replied. “But he is not a soldier. Besides, he is mourning for his mother and I do not wish to interfere with his grief.” But you interfere with ours for Kamose, she wanted to retort. Instead she said, “Will you send him to spy in Het-Uart instead? And what of Mesehti and Makhu? And Ankhmahor for that matter!” Holding each other, they moved towards the passage.
“I do not need a spy in Het-Uart after all,” he told her as they left the office. A cool draught blew through the passage beyond, making the torches gutter, and the guard on the door straightened into a respectful salute. “Hor-Aha is correct in his surmise that the city will not fall to me this season. It is well defended. I will concentrate on killing the fresh Setiu entering the Delta. As for my two Princes, I will offer them new titles and keep them beside me, but I have already taken their divisions away from them, although they do not know it yet. And Ankhmahor …” They were passing the open doorway to the rear garden and he slowed to inhale the gusts of scent-laden air before walking on. “Ankhmahor is a jewel. He will continue to order my Followers and act as Commander of the Shock Troops of the Division of Amun. He is one Prince for whom I make an exception. W
ould you like to captain the household guards, Aahmes-nefertari?” He was smiling down at her, his eyes sparkling in spite of their shadows.
“Yes, I would,” she responded immediately. “I have come to know our local soldiers well. If I can select them myself, I will feel quite safe. Some of them will be Medjay, Ahmose.” Akhtoy was rising from his stool as they approached Ahmose’s quarters.
“That is fine,” Ahmose said. “You, my dearest sister, I do trust implicitly! Akhtoy, bring in hot water and send to the physician for poppy. Aahmes-nefertari, return as soon as you can.”
She left him then and walked the short distance to her own quarters. Tetisheri will be furious when she learns how she was excluded tonight, she thought as Raa came forward to undress her. He ought to do his best to placate her. A new title perhaps? She laughed aloud as she raised her arms and the sheath was lifted up over her head.
That night she dreamed of the death of Ramose’s mother, Nefer-Sakharu, and woke sweating and trembling in the thick darkness. Sitting up, she wiped her neck and breasts with the crumpled sheet, thankful that she was not alone. Turning to drink from the water jug by the couch, she was startled to hear Ahmose’s voice. “What is the matter?” he mumbled. “Are you all right?”
“A bad dream, nothing more,” she whispered back, feeling for the reassurance of his warm flesh and finding the curve of his hip. “Why are you not sleeping, Ahmose?”
“I did sleep,” he replied more clearly. “Until your muttering and tossing woke me up.”
“I am sorry.” She lay back down on her pillow. “Can you sleep again, do you think?” He stirred and rolled towards her.
“I could,” he said. “But my headache has gone. Let us make love now, Aahmes-nefertari. Do you want to? It will be a unique experience. I have never made love to a soldier before.” Go away, she said silently to the image of the Medjay with Nefer-Sakharu’s blood spurting over him, and she opened her mouth to her husband’s kiss.
The expected outburst from Tetisheri did not come, much to Aahmes-nefertari’s surprise. She wondered whether perhaps her grandmother was not aware that the meeting had taken place, but doubted it. Tetisheri had always kept a sharp ear for the casual conversation of the servants. It was more likely that she sensed a shift in the hierarchy of the family and, not wishing to find herself on the bottom rung of the ladder, she had decided to keep her wounded pride to herself. She showed her displeasure, however, by questioning Ahmose sharply regarding the state of Kamose’s tomb at dinner one evening. “You have been absent from the house on many occasions,” she said to him abruptly as he was feeding morsels of roast duck to Behek. The dog had spent the days since Kamose’s murder wandering disconsolately from his master’s empty rooms to the watersteps and back as though he hoped Kamose might return at any moment from some river voyage, until Ahmose had the animal leashed and led behind himself as he went about his business. Ahmose affected to ignore Tetisheri, continuing to tear pieces of meat from the bones on his plate and slip them between Behek’s strong teeth, but she persisted. “Have you been overseeing the completion of Kamose’s tomb?”
“No, Grandmother,” he finally said patiently. “Actually I have had matters to attend to in the temple.”
“Matters that are more important than your brother’s resting place?” she pressed. “Do you want him to lie amid stone chips and unfinished inscriptions?” Ahmose straightened and dipped his fingers in the fingerbowl.
“You presume a great deal, Tetisheri,” he said with mild rebuke. “You would like to think that I am capable of such a petty revenge. You have always chosen to believe that I was jealous of Kamose, but it was never so. We disagreed on many things, but I loved him just as much as you did.”
“I doubt that,” she responded tartly. Aahmes-nefertari saw her husband’s jaw tighten at her tone, but he did not rise to her bait. Drying his hands, he indicated that his plate could be removed and sat back.
“I have been to the tomb twice,” he said evenly. “It will not be entirely ready but that is no one’s fault. Kamose did not expect to die so young. The inner chamber with all the correct inscriptions is complete because I commanded the artisans to work at night as well as during the day, but the carving along the passage to it cannot be done before the funeral. The pyramid stands finished but unfaced. That can be completed later. The enclosing wall of the courtyard is also finished. The men are exhausting themselves, but there is a limit to what I can ask of them, Tetisheri.”
“So the prayers and incantations that will surround his body are correct but his mighty deeds will not be recorded,” she grumbled. “It is disastrous.”
“The prayers and divine protections were far more important,” Ahmose retorted. His forefinger was straying to his scar, betraying his tension, and Aahotep spoke up before Aahmes-nefertari could pour a little oil on the exchange.
“You are being deliberately disagreeable, Tetisheri,” she said. “Would you rather have Kamose protected from evil in the next life or lost because Ahmose insisted on having his deeds chronicled? There is no time to do both!”
“I know what you are thinking.” Ahmose had turned to his grandmother and was looking at her coolly. “In your secret heart you fear that I will begin to claim Kamose’s victories, all his great attempts to free us, all the pain of his heart, as my own. But even if I wanted to, I could not. The archives are full of his letters and dispatches to you, and unless I burned them all I could not assume my brother’s sad history. Nor would the gods approve of such dishonesty.” He sighed. “I pity you, Tetisheri. You think so ill of me that you are unable to lift up your head and see either Kamose or me as we really are. But I also warn you. I am now the King as well as your grandson. Try to curb your tongue if you cannot curb your thoughts, or you may find yourself accused of blasphemy.” She glared at him for a moment before slumping forward.
“You are right,” she managed through stiff lips. “I apologize to you, Majesty. I am an obstreperous old woman.” But Aahmes-nefertari, seeing the glint of mutiny in her hooded eyes, knew that the words she spoke were not the ones churning in her mind. Presently Tetisheri left the dais, stalking through the lamplight in the direction of her quarters.
“Forgive her, Ahmose,” Aahotep pleaded. “She grieves terribly for Kamose.”
“Grief can excuse much, but not everything,” was all Ahmose replied.
He continued to be absent a great deal, sometimes vanishing in the direction of the temple, sometimes walking with his ever-present guard of Followers to the barracks and the training ground. Several times in the month that followed, heralds arrived at the watersteps with messages for him, and Aahmes-nefertari, passing the closed door of the office, heard his voice interspersed with the rumble of other men’s tones. But she did not fret because she was excluded from their news. She had his confidence, and if anything of importance was reported to him she knew he would tell her at once.
Rising late one morning, she requested that her first meal be brought to her in the garden, and after being bathed, dressed and painted she made her way to the pool, only to find Ahmose already there, lying on his back under a billowing canopy. Hent-ta-Hent was sprawled naked on his stomach, deeply asleep, one tiny thumb still resting between her half-open lips, her wisps of soft black hair stirring in the breeze. Ahmose had one hand across her chubby back to prevent her from slipping and with the other he was gesticulating at Hor-Aha who sat cross-legged beside him. They were surrounded by Ipi and three of his under-scribes, all bent industriously over their palettes. Ahmose-onkh, also naked, stood by the water under the watchful eye of a servant, his shaved head, but for the wet and bedraggled youth lock straggling to his shoulder, gleaming in the strong light. When he saw his mother coming over the grass, he toddled towards her beaming, palms cupped. “Look, look!” he exclaimed in his excited high treble. “This frog jumped onto my foot!” Squatting, Aahmes-nefertari kissed his round cheek and admired his catch.
“But you must throw it back into the pond,�
� she cautioned him. “If you hold it too long its skin will become dry and hot and you will make it sick. It is special, Ahmoseonkh, and you must not harm it. Frogs are tokens of rebirth and we honour them.” He shrugged, already bored, and pouted, but he did as he was told, pausing on the edge of the pool to stroke the creature before tossing it carelessly away. It struck the water with scarcely a splash and Aahmes-nefertari, rising, saw it kick its way beneath the green spread of a lotus pad. She beckoned to the servant.
“Braid his youth lock,” she said. “He looks very untidy. And put him in a loincloth. He is three years old now. He must become used to being dressed.” Ahmose had turned his head at her approach, smiling broadly, and Hor-Aha had come to his feet to reverence her.
“Hor-Aha returned with his lists last night,” Ahmose said as she moved in under the shade of the canopy. “It was too beautiful a morning to waste in the gloom of the office, so I am listening to them out here. Later I must question the more senior men recommended myself, but I cannot move until Hent-ta-Hent wakes up.” He glanced fondly down at his daughter. “I think she is teething, Aahmesnefertari. She was dribbling and crying a great deal and the nursery servant could not calm her. What will you do today?”
The Horus Road Page 3