by Max Overton
The other courtiers joined in before sinking to their knees in obeisance once more as the king started down the steps of the dais.
"Son of Re!" Messuwy called out. "A private audience, I beg."
Neferronpet looked shocked at this disruption of court protocol, and signalled to the guards to remove the disturbance. Messuwy saw them coming and called out again, a hint of desperation in his voice.
"As a son to his father, Majesty."
Merenptah sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, before lifting his hand to halt the onrushing guards. "See to it," he murmured to Neferronpet, before continuing down the steps and into his private chambers.
* * *
A twelfth part of the day later Neferronpet, with guards, delivered Messuwy to a small private audience chamber where Merenptah sat on an ordinary chair, without regalia or servants. Two guards remained inside the room, but the Tjaty and the other guards withdrew.
Messuwy knelt and held out his hands in silent supplication.
"What do you want?"
"Father, I approach you as your eldest son, rather than as King's Son of Kush."
Merenptah nodded and leaned back in his chair, indicating a plain stool that sat in one corner. "Sit then, and tell me what you want."
Messuwy rose and fetched the low stool, placing it in front of his father and sitting on it. He cleared his mind of its racing thoughts and fears and tried to formulate his argument clearly.
"Father, I am your eldest son and was honoured by your father Usermaatre, being made King's Son of Kush even before you became Crown Prince. Now you are king, and I am ready to take up my duties as Crown Prince and Heir to the Two Lands. I await your summons to this my destiny."
Merenptah was silent for a while, a slight frown creasing his wrinkled face. Then he stirred and said, "King's Son of Kush is a formidable position for one so young. You have been favoured beyond most men already, Messuwy. Can you not be content?"
"Any man can be King's Son of Kush, even a commoner, if raised to it by the king, but the Heir will be king after you. That position belongs to your son, your eldest son."
"I am not yet king," Merenptah observed. "That cannot happen until your grandfather is buried and I am crowned in Men-nefer. Yet you ask to be heir before there is anything to be heir to."
"Your coronation is a mere formality, father..."
"Yet a very necessary one."
"I would hear it from your lips that you hold me dear to your heart, father, and will name me heir."
"Your mother Takhat..."
"Herself a daughter of Usermaatre."
"Do not interrupt me." Merenptah's voice lashed his son. He stared at Messuwy until the young man lowered his gaze and mumbled an apology.
"Your mother Takhat was a wife of my youth, and I had two sons by her..."
Messuwy looked up, startled, and he opened his mouth to query his father, and then thought better of it.
"You didn't know that, did you?" Merenptah went on. "Ramesses was my firstborn, your elder brother, but he died while still an infant, so you are only my eldest surviving son." The king sighed. "That does not matter, for I was only thirteenth son of Usermaatre, and yet here I am, Lord of the Two Lands. Who could have foreseen that?"
Messuwy wisely made no comment, and after a bit, Merenptah continued talking.
"I took another wife later, Isetnofret, daughter of my brother Khaemwaset, who was Crown Prince before me. I had another son whom I named Ramesses, but..." Merenptah shook his head. "Then later, another one whom I named Seti. He was born around the time you took up your duties in Kush, but before he was born, Usermaatre summoned me into his presence and instructed me." The king looked at Messuwy with a tired smile, as if feeling the weight of kingship already, even before his reign had truly started.
"Usermaatre told me that he desired to honour Khaemwaset even though he was dying. He desired that the blood of my brother should sit upon the Double Throne even if the throne passed to me. Can you guess how that might be, Messuwy my son?"
"Your son by his daughter," Messuwy whispered, a stricken look in his eyes.
"Yes. Your brother Seti has both my blood and that of Khaemwaset, and by the wish of Usermaatre, he will be king after me."
"But you are king now, father, not Usermaatre. You can overturn his decision."
Merenptah nodded slowly. "I could...but I won't."
"Why not?" Messuwy felt like a small boy deprived of some treat by an arbitrary decision. He hated the whine that was creeping into his voice, but the injustice of it all threatened to overcome him. "You are king, and I am your eldest son."
"I believe that King's Son of Kush is as high as you will rise. I do not think you have it in you to be king."
"And my half-brother Seti does? A ten year old boy who has never governed anything more than his own bowels, who would piss himself in fear if he had to lead soldiers? You would leave Kemet to a boy?"
Merenptah frowned and his hands gripped the arms of his chair tightly. With an effort he forced his anger down, speaking mildly to his son. "Seti will not always be a boy."
"But I am a man now. I have governed Kush and fought the enemies of Kemet face to face. I have it in me to be king, father. Put your faith in me and let me show you."
"Show me then, Messuwy," Merenptah said. "Make Kush the richest province in these Two Lands of mine, and I may reconsider."
Tears of anger and chagrin formed in Messuwy's eyes, and he looked away so his father would not see his weakness. He does not mean it, but seeks to draw my teeth, rendering me harmless. If I do not challenge his rule in Kush, I will always be barred from the succession. Messuwy brushed his tears away and composed his face before turning back. "I am your loyal servant, son of Re." For now, anyway.
A scratch came from the doorway and Neferronpet looked in. When Merenptah beckoned, the Tjaty walked across and whispered in the king's ear.
"What? Seti is here? How?"
"He says he sailed up from Men-nefer, Majesty. He is asking to see you."
"Send him in. Of course I will see him. No, Messuwy, stay." The King's Son of Kush had risen to his feet. "You must stay and greet your brother."
There was nothing Messuwy could do but stay and watch as young Seti, favourite son of the king, ran into the private audience chamber and embraced his father. He smiled bitterly at the youth and naivety of the boy who would be king. A young woman entered the chamber also, staying to one side, and Messuwy looked at her appraisingly, wondering who she was.
"Come, Messuwy," Merenptah said, disengaging himself from the boy. "Embrace your brother."
Messuwy considered refusing, but caught the underlying command in the king's voice. He moved forward stiffly and put his arms around Seti, though did not draw him close.
"Seti," Messuwy said, not wanting to utter words of welcome. "I thought you to be hard at your lessons in Per-Ramesses. A young boy should not be outside the safety of the palace."
"You're my brother Messuwy?" Seti looked across at the girl and shrugged. "I can look after myself, you know."
"Who's the girl? Some wench you picked up along the way...or perhaps your wet-nurse?"
"Apologise at once," Merenptah growled. "This is Tausret, my adoptive daughter, and daughter of my elder brother Sethi."
"Tausret? By the gods, you have changed in the last ten years."
"Indeed I have...brother," Tausret said. "But I believe you owe me an apology."
"And of course you have it." Messuwy smiled and inclined his head graciously, as if forgiving her for some slight. "Father, you did not tell me she was growing into such beauty. What lucky man will take her to wife? Perhaps I might offer my services in this regard?"
"I will consider it, but Seti, how did you get to Waset? Why did Tjaty Prehotep let you come unaccompanied?"
"I am to blame, father," Tausret said. "I told the Tjaty we were going to Men-nefer to pay our respects to grandfather. He supplied a ship and an escort, but when we got there, we ga
ve them the slip and continued on to Waset by fishing boat."
"Just the two of you? That was not wise, daughter."
"We were protected, father, and looked after by a soldier called Ament. He sailed the boat and caught fish, and helped us make fires and he made Seti a bow and arrow. We want you to reward him."
"Reward him? I should take his liver for running off with you. If he knew his duty he would have taken you straight back to the governor's palace. Where is he? Outside? Guards!"
"He's not here, father. He was afraid you might react this way."
"Well, he's right in that at least," Merenptah growled. "Where is he?"
"I'm not going to tell you, father, until you promise to..."
"Tausret, I am the King. Obey me."
Tausret smiled, and winked at Seti. "No, father."
Merenptah sighed. "What am I to do with you, daughter? Seti, will you, at least, tell me where this Ament can be found?"
Seti looked at his sister and shrugged. "We left him outside the city and sailed on."
"So he cannot be found; is that what you're telling me?"
"Promise me he will come to no harm, father."
"You are as strong as your name, Tausret. Very well, this Ament will not be harmed. You have the word of the king on this. Satisfied?"
"And will be rewarded instead?"
"Rewarded how? I suppose you want me to make him a general or a governor?"
Tausret laughed gaily. "Nothing like that, father. Perhaps to be made a Leader of Fifty and awarded a deben of gold?"
"Done. Now where is he?"
"I don't know."
"Then how am I to reward him?"
Tausret's smile slipped. "I don't know."
"You could make a proclamation, father," Seti said. "Have it announced in every city."
"And you'd have a hundred Aments claiming the reward," Messuwy sneered.
"Seti or I would be here to identify him," Tausret said.
"So I can't even send you back to Per-Ramesses straight away?" Merenptah asked. "It seems a king is not as powerful as I thought, if a young boy and girl can circumvent his wishes so easily."
"We came for the funeral, father...and Seti wants to ask you a question. Go on," Tausret added as Seti hung back.
Seti blushed. He looked at his sister, then at his older brother and lastly at the king his father. "Y...you are the king, and I am your son. Father, who is to be your Heir?"
Messuwy scowled, but Merenptah smiled.
"A good question, Seti, and one your half-brother Messuwy has just asked me."
Seti's lip quivered. "So you've made him Heir."
Merenptah shot Messuwy a warning look and said quietly, "Your grandfather is not yet buried, and I have not yet been officially crowned king. I think it's a little early to be deciding who will succeed me on the Double Throne, don't you?"
"So you haven't made up your mind yet?"
"We shall revisit this question at another time."
Seti grinned. "So I could still be Heir?" He saw Messuwy's scowling face and poked out his tongue at him.
Merenptah laughed and rose from his chair once more. "Something to eat, I think. You must be hungry after many days on the river, living by your wits."
Messuwy bowed as the king and the youngsters left the audience chamber. He seethed with anger and frustration, but forced his feelings down. His face revealed nothing save thoughtfulness as he walked through the palace to his suite of rooms.
So he didn't immediately make Seti his heir. Interesting. Perhaps he recognises his extreme youth and inexperience. Maybe I can yet influence his decision.
Chapter Fourteen
Year 2 of Baenre Merenptah
King Baenre Merenptah buried his father with all due ceremony in Ta-sekhet-ma'at, performing the opening of the mouth and other rituals as prescribed by the sacred writings, before sailing north to Men-nefer where, amidst great celebrations, he was officially crowned as Baenre Merynetjeru Merenptah Hotephermaat, officially now to be known as Baenre, though his family still called him Merenptah. After a few months in the north, busy laying the foundations for a new palace in Men-nefer next to the Great Temple of Ptah, he sailed south once more following advice from his Tjaty of the South, Neferronpet.
"Son of Re," Neferronpet had written, "There is grumbling in Waset that the king has forgotten Amun's City. I beg you to remember that First Prophet Roma-Rui is single-minded in his desire for the supremacy of his god. An appearance by your Majesty would restore the peace. Also, work has started on your Majesty's Mansion of Millions of Years, but there is a lack of suitable building stone nearby. Your presence would enable this necessary work to progress much faster."
Merenptah had sailed south and the populace along the banks of Iteru had cheered him whenever the royal barge hove in view. Almost every town and certainly every city praised the king's name for having repaired a local shrine or temple. The king, mindful of his age, had ordered the treasury to spend good gold on the gods of Kemet, for he knew it would not be many years before he joined them.
The people of Waset thronged the western docks, the soldiers of the guard struggling to keep the populace at a respectful distance. Merenptah had not been in Amun's City since his father's funeral, and his presence now was a sign that they had not been forgotten. Hem-netjer Roma-Rui was on hand with what seemed like a legion of priests, determined to make it look like Amun was welcoming the king. Roma-Rui led the song of praise to Amun right there on the docks, and the king had to stand and wait for the long hymn to end. The pain in his joints made him shift uncomfortably, but he quelled any hint of his discomfort.
"Cunning," Merenptah murmured to Neferronpet. "How many know it was you who invited me rather than him?"
"Most of the nobles and the senior scribes, Majesty. The people will believe what the priests tell them, of course. Do you want me to announce the real reason you have come?"
Merenptah shook his head slightly. "Let him think he has won. He will find I have a long memory."
The hymn wound down to its end, and Neferronpet ordered the guards to close ranks and escort the king to the waiting chariots. Merenptah climbed into a three-man chariot and the charioteer eased the vehicle into a walk onto the road that led inland. Neferronpet followed in another chariot, while the guards trotted alongside on foot. As previously arranged, the chariots stopped at the site of the king's Mansion of Millions of Years, where foundation trenches had been dug, and some quarried stone stood close by.
Merenptah dismounted, and walked slowly round the site, pacing out the trenches, looking at the measurements recorded on the plans the architects held for him, and then discussing the difficulties with the Overseer of Architects, Nebseny, and his Tjaty.
Nebseny was reluctant to commit himself, pleading the lack of dressed stone, the distance to the nearest suitable quarry, and the shortage of skilled craftsmen. Merenptah listened to his excuses until he lost patience.
"Enough, Nebseny. Just tell me how long it's going to take."
The Overseer looked pleadingly at Neferronpet, but when the Tjaty refused to meet his gaze, ventured, "Ten years, Majesty."
"Ten? I won't be around in ten years. You have two."
Nebseny wrung his hands. "Majesty, it...it can't be done. There is not enough..."
"Perhaps your Majesty would consider making some alterations to the plans?" Neferronpet asked softly. "Your Mansion is the same size as your illustrious father's. If you were to order a reduction in size, then the difficulties of supply are reduced."
Merenptah frowned. "Smaller than my father's?"
"I regret that the treasury is not bottomless, Majesty. Nearly seven decades of temple and palace building by Usermaatre drained the treasury of much of its wealth, and you have demonstrated your piety up and down the Kingdoms by following his example. Now you are having a new palace constructed in Men-nefer. Son of Re, cuts must be made somewhere."
"How much smaller?"
"Not much, Majesty.
Just enough to match supply with demand."
Merenptah stalked off to stare over the dug trenches and pegs hammered into the sun-baked earth.
Nebseny plucked at Neferronpet's sleeve and asked the same question. "How much smaller?"
"About half, I should think."
"The king won't be pleased."
"Make certain it is well built and I doubt he will notice."
The Overseer of Architects made some scribbled calculations with a pointed stick in the sand. "We still might not have enough stone. And the further we have to bring it, the more it will cost."
"So you need stone close at hand?"
"Yes, but there is none of any quality."
Neferronpet spun slowly on his heel, searching the river plain and the crumbling western cliffs. He pointed. "There's some."
Nebseny stared and licked his lips nervously. "That's the Mansion of Nebmaatre Amenhotep. They are repairing some walls that have fallen down."
"So they won't mind if you take what you need."
"I think they might, Tjaty."
"Nebseny, you have to ask yourself what is more important, a king who has been dead a hundred years, or a living king who will make your life a misery if you don't complete this on time."
"But to rob a king? Even a dead king?"
"Do you imagine it has not been done before? Blocks are removed from walls, inscriptions rewritten, carvings chiselled out." Neferronpet smiled. "One could argue that it is accepted practice."
"The king will not object?"
"Not if you don't tell him."
"But somebody else might. What if one of the priests of Nebmaatre's temple complains? I cannot risk it."
"So tell King Baenre you cannot complete his Mansion. I am certain he will understand. You might find yourself carving rock shrines in the Wilderness of Sin, but at least you will still be alive."
"I...I..."
Merenptah returned to the two men. "Well, can it be done?" he demanded. "Scale down the Mansion to fit existing supplies?"
Neferronpet turned to the Overseer and raised his eyebrows interrogatively. "Yes, Nebseny. Can it be done?"
Nebseny swallowed and opened and closed his mouth before croaking out, "Y...yes Majesty."