by Max Overton
The viscera having been preserved, the embalmers turned their attention back to the emaciated body on the stone slab, the skin of its belly sunken now that the organs had been removed. Little linen bags were filled with natron crystals and packed into the body cavity, gradually swelling the belly once more until the king looked well fed and sated, despite the stick-like limbs and sunken-cheeked visage. Thin strips of linen were bound around fingernails and toenails.
"Why, Rekhmire?" the Master of Secrets asked.
"The natron is to draw all the water from the body, father. The nails are bound with strips of linen to keep them in place as the body dries and shrinks."
More natron was packed around the king's body, both in linen bags and loose, the white crystals being heaped high until the body disappeared from sight.
"The king will remain in the natron for thirty or forty days," the Master told his son. "The king is old and lean, so the shorter time may suffice. The natron will be changed regularly, so when we return to make him ready for the tomb, the king will be a thing of beauty."
* * *
Merenptah's progress started with the city of Per-Ramesses two days after Usermaatre's death. As was the custom, Merenptah had not shaved since, and fine white stubble already marred his jowls and the sides of his head. He would not shave at all during his progress and expected to have a proper beard by the time he returned.
Although Merenptah had been named Heir twelve years before, this time between the death of one king and the accession of the next was always dangerous. The Ma'at of the land had been shaken by the death of the God on Earth, and no one would rest easy until once more a God sat on the double Throne of Kemet. The process could not be hurried though, as every man had to see the 'king who will rule' and see him crowned by the priests. Of course, this would happen only once, but every man expected to see a simulacrum of the coronation as the Heir passed through the major towns and cities. Every man and woman who could travel would make the journey to the nearest town, flocking to the roads and riverside to catch a glimpse of the next king, and each man and woman would then return to their home secure in the knowledge that balance had been restored in the Double Kingdom.
The palace gates which had been closed when Usermaatre died, were flung open and Merenptah walked with head bowed to the open space in front of Amun's temple. There he sat on a simple stool, clad only in a plain white kilt, and waited for the populace to crowd around him. When no more could fit in the courtyard and adventurous souls lined the tops of the walls and nearby houses in order to see the proceedings, the priests of every major god approached, with acolytes beating drums and shaking sistrums, rams' horns blowing and voices raised in praise of the gods.
The High Priest of Ptah ritually washed Merenptah with pure river water, the High Priest of Set placed a heavy gold pectoral around his neck, the High Priest of Re handed him the heka and nekhakha of kingly authority, and the High Priest of Amun placed the Double Crown of Ta Mehu and Ta Shemau on his head.
Stepping back, the High Priest of Amun raised his hands for silence, calling out in a clear voice, "Usermaatre Setepenre Ramesses has flown to the heavens and united with the sun disc, the body of the god joined him who made him, from whence on every day the sun disc shines forth, making the sky bright and the land of Kemet to prosper. Behold now the god who sits upon the throne, Baenre Merynetjeru Merenptah Hotephermaat, Soul of Re, Beloved of the Gods, Beloved of Ptah, Joyous is Truth. Behold your king. Fall to your knees and worship him as Re on Earth."
The rams' horns blew again and every man and woman present, save the priests, knelt on the dusty ground and stretched out their arms, shouting out their joy at having a new king. Several of them kissed the ground, heaping dust upon their heads. When Merenptah arose and stepped slowly toward the crowd, they scrambled to their feet and fell back, forming a long aisle through which the new king and the priests walked in procession back to the palace.
Once inside, and out of the view of the populace, Merenptah divested himself of the trappings of kingship and, yawning and scratching like the least of his subjects, went in search of something to eat. While he chewed on a piece of beef and drank cool wine, he listened to Tjaty Prehotep outline the course of his progress.
"Ta Mehu first. Downriver to Djanet, then up and across to Per-Bast, Iunu, Per-Asar, Zau, Per-Wadjet, Hut-Repyt, Taremu, and on to Men-nefer," Prehotep said, consulting his list. "Most stops will be fairly short, half a day perhaps, a sacrifice at the titular temples of each city, the Ceremony of Showing, and on again. Expect to have to stop if large numbers of people gather on the riverbank, or maybe just pull in close to the shore and let yourself be shown."
Merenptah groaned. "I suppose it's all necessary? I mean, everybody knows me, and there are no other claimants..."
"It is all necessary, My Lord."
"So who is accompanying me on this horrible procession through cities, some of which I've never visited and hoped never to?"
"The High Priests of Amun, Re, and Set. Also the Second Prophet of Ptah as the High Priest is also Governor of Men-nefer. They'll use local priests for all the necessary work. Scribes, soldiers, body servants, women if you want them, in fact, a selection of people from the palace."
"You too?"
Prehotep hid a smile. "Alas, My Lord, someone has to remain behind to conduct the everyday affairs of State."
Merenptah grunted. "How long in Men-nefer?"
"A few days. Long enough for you to pay your respects to your father in the House of Beauty, and to catch up on any matters that need your attention. Then you will travel upriver by State Barge, stopping again at the major cities like Henen-nesut, Khmun, Zawty, Khent-Min, Tjenu, Abdju, Ta-ynt-netert, Nubt, Gebti and another stop at Waset. Of course, there will be plenty of smaller towns and villages along the way, but I won't bother you with their names."
"Good."
"Waset is Amun's city, of course, and ancient capital. You will need to appease the priests of Amun, who are ever mindful of the fact that your father shifted his court to Per-Ramesses." Prehotep hesitated, judging Merenptah's mood. "You may want to consider moving the court back."
"To Waset? It's worth a consideration, though if I was going anywhere I'd go to Men-nefer. It is Ptah's city, after all."
"Please do not make any hasty decisions, My Lord. There are advantages to Waset..."
"Only if the threat is in the south," Merenptah cut in. "My son Messuwy guards the southern boundaries, so I do not need to be there too. Today's threat is from the north and west. Have you forgotten the Ribu already?"
"No, My Lord, but the Ribu retreated in the face of the Ptah legion and the men you sent from here. That was an inspired decision."
Merenptah stared at the Tjaty for a few moments, a gentle smile quirking his lips. "I thought that was your idea. Well, never mind, it was a good one anyway." He shook his head. "No, there is no threat from the south and a lessened one from the east after my father's conquests. The Ribu will be back and I would be better placed to meet that threat from Men-nefer."
"As you see fit, My Lord."
"Yes. Now, I'm in Waset. What needs doing there?"
"You will need to make large sacrifices to Amun, make the rounds of all the temples, show yourself in the coronation mime, and then inspect your father's tomb in Ta-sekhet-ma'at."
"Will my father be ready for his resting place by then?"
"Almost. I calculate he will be leaving Men-nefer at about the time you leave Waset for the last part of your progress."
"Should I stay in Waset then?"
"No. You need to show yourself in the south before the funeral. There will be plenty of time, and no one is going to start the burial without you."
"How far south? Into Wawat and Kush?"
Prehotep shook his head. "No further than Abu. I expect the King's Son of Kush will meet you there and return to Waset with you."
Merenptah frowned. "What am I going to do about him?"
"Messuwy? What do yo
u mean?"
"He is my eldest son. By rights he should be my heir."
Prehotep looked a little taken aback. "Is there a reason for him not to be?" he asked cautiously.
"I promised my father that if I became Heir, that the one who followed me would be of Khaemwaset's line."
"But Prince Ramesses is...oh, you mean Hori." Prehotep cleared his throat. "Er, he is not kingly material, My Lord. He makes a good High Priest of Ptah, but king?"
"Not Hori. My son Seti through Khaemwaset's daughter Isetnofret."
"He is only a child of what...ten years?"
"I am an old man, but you expect me to die immediately?" Merenptah grumbled. "I hope to live until he becomes a man, but you see the problem? Messuwy is twenty-five years older than Seti. He will regard it as his right to succeed me."
"The King's Word is Law," Prehotep said. "If you make Seti your heir, none will dispute it."
"Yes, but how often is an elder son passed over? Oh, I know it happens, but always for a very good reason. What reason do I have to pass over Messuwy?"
Prehotep considered. "Your promise to your father who is, I might add, now one with Re. If the gods desire it, no man may dispute it. Besides, being King's Son of Kush is a very high station. Messuwy should be content with that."
Merenptah nodded. "I will talk to him, and make him understand."
Chapter Seven
Year 1 of Baenre Merenptah
Merenptah did not meet his son Messuwy in the southern city of Abu as planned. The Royal Barge carrying the king-to-be put into the city of Behdet just as another ship passed on the broad river, carried down on the current toward Waset. Neither knew of the other's presence. The progress continued, a stiff northerly wind carrying the Royal Barge upriver under spread sail, the oars only being needed to turn the vessel in toward the city docks. The showing, and the mock coronation in each of the southern cities went as planned, except in the Nekhen, city of hawks.
A once-important city, it had declined with the passing years and the houses and temples showed signs of neglect. Only the House of Falcons, the Great Temple of Heru, stood in all its glory, and the priests of Heru turned out to greet Merenptah, reminding him in the presence of all that Heru was an ancient god, a deity of the sun, of war, and of protection. The High Priest of Heru confronted Merenptah on the docks and, unmindful of the presence of soldiers and priests of the other gods, spoke his mind.
"The House of Ramesses has chosen the god Set as its guardian. Know, Prince Merenptah, that Heru the Great and Set are ancient enemies. Why have you come to Nekhen?"
The High Priest of Set bristled and started to reply angrily, but Merenptah cut him off with a gesture.
"What is your name, priest, and whence comes your authority, that you so boldly talk to your next king in such a manner?"
"My name is Hornakhte, Hem-netjer of Heru, and my authority comes from there..." the High Priest stabbed his finger toward the lapis dome of the sky and everyone looked up, squinting in the bright light. A hawk hovered far above the city, its form almost lost in the glare from the sun's disc. It screamed, high-pitched and angry, and a murmur ran through the watching crowd.
"I have no quarrel with Heru," Merenptah said calmly. "Set may be the titular deity of my father Usermaatre, but I am 'Beloved of Ptah' and I worship all the gods of our Kemet."
"That is good, King's Son, but Heru will not let this son of Set..." Hornakhte gestured toward the High Priest of Set, "...perform his rites within the temple precinct."
"Then we shall perform the rites elsewhere," the Son of Set declared angrily. "The only ones who will suffer by it are the people of Nekhen."
"No. I will be crowned here, within the temple precinct, so the people of Nekhen may see their next king."
"Heru will not let..."
"The King's Son has spoken," the Son of Set sneered. "Your desires are meaningless."
"Not so," Merenptah said. "I will be crowned here, as I have been throughout the Two Lands, but Hornakhte, Hem-netjer of Heru will officiate in this City of Hawks, rather than you Meryset, High Priest of Set."
Merenptah's word was law, so Meryset retired to the barge, his face calm but his heart raging within him, and the ceremony of crowning took place within the temple precinct of Heru, with Hornakhte playing a prominent part in the proceedings.
When they left the city to resume their southward progress, Meryset once more took his place in the holy entourage of priests and continued to place the pectoral of undying gold around Merenptah's neck, but something had changed. The age-old enmity between Heru and Set had flared again in the City of Hawks, and only the gods could see the outcome.
* * *
Ten year old Seti fretted in the palace of Per-Ramesses, annoyed that his father Merenptah had left him behind while he made his progress through the Two Lands. He had complained to Tjaty Prehotep, but the old man was too busy governing the Kingdoms in the interregnum to pay much attention to a young boy's whining. The scribes and soldiers were little better, more polite, but equally could not, or would not, help. So he took his troubles to the only person he truly confided in, his sister/cousin Tausret.
Seti ran into the room in the women's palace where Tausret had a private chamber. He found her sitting by the window, looking out toward the city, gently stroking a large spotted cat on her lap. "It's not fair," he cried out, startling the cat, which sat up and stared at the intruder suspiciously. "If my father is to be king, then I will be Heir. My place is by his side."
Tausret sighed and adjusted her pleated dress, coaxing the cat to lie down again. "I have no doubt you will be there, after our father has completed his progress."
Seti scowled and almost stamped his foot, but remembered in time that his tutor had told him it was unmanly, particularly in the presence of a woman. "He's my father, not yours," he spat out.
"Yes, he is, dear Seti, but you know as well as I that when my father died, Prince Merenptah adopted me. I have always been your elder sister and..." Tausret's voice hardened, "...you will afford me the respect due to my position."
"I'm the King's Son...or soon will be and you're just...just a palace woman. Soon you won't be able to tell me what to do."
Tausret smiled. "I'll always be older than you, and wiser. And when you are king I'll probably be your wife, so be nice to me or I'll make your life miserable."
Seti stuck out his tongue and then grinned. "You really think we'll get married?"
"Quite possibly. Kings don't like their sisters marrying just anybody. It gives an outsider a foothold in the Royal House. It's much more sensible to marry them yourself."
"Hmm." Seti cocked his head on one side and looked at Tausret. "But when I'm a king, you'll be an old woman. I'd rather marry someone younger."
"When you're twenty, I'll only be twenty-seven. That's a perfect age for you. I'm your sister and cousin, and I'm also better at reading and writing, more skilled at archery, and I know the law as well as any scribe. I'll be your adviser as well as your Great Royal Wife and mother of your sons."
Seti shrugged. "I suppose so, but you're not better at archery...well, not much so. I can still win four times out of nine."
"That's right, little brother, and of course you'll get better. Wait until our father, King...has he decided what his coronation name will be?"
"I heard it's going to be Baenre."
"That's different. The 'Soul of Re', not exactly a name of power. Well, anyway, wait until King Baenre takes you to war. You'll quickly become a skilled archer, be promoted to general, strike down the enemies of Kemet, and become a powerful king yourself."
"You think so?"
Tausret smiled at her brother's eager face. "I know it."
Seti came and stood beside the seated Tausret, stroking the cat and tickling it under the chin. "I've never been to a coronation...or a royal burial."
Tausret laughed and the cat got up and stretched before jumping to the floor where it started cleaning itself. "Nobody's seen a coronatio
n. The last one took place sixty-seven years ago. I've been to a burial though," she added.
"You have? Whose?"
"My father Sethi. I was only four, but Merenptah took me, saying I should know what was happening to my father."
"What was it like?"
Tausret shook her head. "I don't remember much, just the brightly coloured pictures on the walls of the tomb."
"I wish I could see grandfather Usermaatre's tomb."
"I think if father had wanted you there, he'd have taken you."
"He didn't even want me on the progress."
"Well, you'll be Heir soon, so he'll be taking you everywhere then. Unless..." Tausret frowned.
"Unless what?"
"You have an older brother."
"I do? Where? What's his name?"
"Messuwy. His mother was Takhat, a junior wife. He was made King's Son of Kush before you were born, so of course you've never met him. I was only five at the time but I vaguely remember him."
"King's Son of Kush? So he's already one of the most powerful men in the Two Lands. Father's going to make him Heir, I know it."
"If he is, there's nothing we can do about it."
"If only father was here in Per-Ramesses," Seti said. "I could go and see him and remind him that I am his son by Isetnofret, his main wife. I have a better claim than Messuwy."
Tausret got up and brushed cat hair off her linen dress. She looked out of the window and yawned, tiring of the conversation. "Well, he's not here, so you can't talk to him."
"Then I'll go to Waset and join him in burying my grandfather. When he sees my piety and devotion, he'll take notice of me."
Tausret turned and stared at her little brother. "And how do you plan on getting to Waset? You're only ten years old."