by Max Overton
Water started to run out, and the king was forcibly reminded of the realities of desert campaigning. Merenptah ordered teams of mules toward the nearest villages to fill water skins at local wells or seeps, and slowed the advance to conserve his stocks. He would not stop though. Scouts came in at intervals, reporting the position of the enemy, and their disposition. Two thousand men faced them, and this force would not be as easy to destroy as the Retenu rebels. The Sea Peoples were disciplined and their army well equipped. They even had chariots, though none of the heavier war chariots used by the Kemetu. All the scouts had seen were light, speedy vehicles very similar to their own.
"We'll be able to defeat them though, won't we?" Seti asked anxiously.
"Do not doubt it, my son. Kemetu legions are second to none."
By late afternoon, the legions had closed the gap and halted some two thousand paces from the enemy. Merenptah ordered a camp to be set up as his men were weary and thirsty, and there was not enough daylight left to rout the opposing army.
"Besides, the sun is in our eyes. Tomorrow morning it will be at our backs and Re himself will fight for us."
The mules arrived back laden with water skins, enough for every man to assuage his immediate thirst. Further teams were dispatched to bring more, and cooking fires were lit to provide each man with a good meal.
The military detachments to the villages and towns reappeared, weary but sated, carrying whatever they had found of the Kanaanites that might prove useful. A few score more hands were added to the tally, and almost more importantly, flocks of sheep and goats. These were distributed and slaughtered and the rich aromas of roasting meat hung above the camp.
Seti moved through the camp with Ament beside him, basking in the glory that his father had reaped in the previous battle. Many men now knew who he was, greeting him and praising his deeds, and some were even starting to say he was the luck of Kemet.
"Never have I seen such a speedy and complete victory, young Lord."
"Father and Son, conquerors of the North."
"May the gods bless you, Little Lord."
"You are our Luck."
"Baenre and Seti, onward to victory!"
Seti joined common soldiers at their cooking fires, gnawing at a piece of roasted goat meat, the fat running down his chin, and listening to the soldiers talk. They accepted the king's son as one of them because he did not give himself airs but would rather sit and listen. He drank weak beer and nodded as they recounted their actions of the last few days, but Ament moved him on when their talk turned to women.
"But I want to listen to them, Ament," he complained. "I might learn something."
"I doubt you'd learn anything important. Now come along, you need your sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a big day."
"Huh, it's just going to be another battle."
"You've only seen one," Ament pointed out. "And that was against a rabble. The Sea Peoples are very different."
"They are still men of the nations," Seti declared. "One Kemetu is worth ten of them."
"That's as may be, Lord Seti, but the king your father doesn't want to lose half his men proving it."
The camp stirred long before first light. The guards and patrols had reported no disturbance during the hours of darkness, and now the scouts brought news only that the army of the Sea Peoples was preparing for battle. Merenptah, as First Priest, led the lesser priests in the Offering to the gods as the first hint of the sun's disc edged above the hilltops, throwing golden rays at the waiting enemy. The hymn of praise ascended from a thousand throats, and then each soldier dined on bread and weak beer before preparing for the advance.
An hour brought the two armies together. They stood two hundred paces apart and eyed each other warily, weighing up their strengths and weaknesses, judging the likelihood of victory, and many men offered up muttered prayers to the gods of their nations, vowing all manner of sacrifice later if they would only preserve them unhurt through the day.
Merenptah stood at the front of his army as before, Seti by his side in his war chariot, the horses fretting to be off, nervous at so many men and horses around them, of the air of excitement and apprehension that filled the air. The king stared at the enemy, searching out the battle standards, looking for the leader. His earlier determination and eagerness had given way to anxiety at the sight of disciplined troops facing him, and he felt a touch of nausea.
I'm getting to old for this, he thought. War is a young man's game. If only Seti was old enough and experienced enough to command the army. There's always Messuwy, of course...Should I bring him north, give him a chance to prove himself?
"Are we going to charge, father?"
"Eh?" Merenptah jerked his thoughts back to the current situation and saw his young son looking up at him, eagerness and confidence written all over his face. The boy held a bow this time, one to match his size, and a quiver of arrows was bound to the railing in front of him, besides the king's quiver of full-length arrows.
"No, not this time." He pointed out the strengths of the opposing army, and in particular the cohesiveness of the enemy foot soldiers. "A chariot charge can be countered by a determined and brave group of men on foot. Horses balk at charging into spears, so we must use our chariots in a different way."
"What way, father?"
"You will see." Merenptah said. He spoke a few terse words to the charioteer and braced his feet as the horses lunged forward. Seti's eyes grew wide as they appeared to be charging the enemy alone, but the chariot turned across the face of the Sea Peoples, racing along the enemy line only fifty paces out. Arrows arced over the front lines, falling close to the king's chariot and he laughed, taking up an arrow himself. He loosed, and an enemy soldier in the front line staggered back with a hoarse scream. His fellows dragged him out of sight and another soldier took his place.
Seti yelled with delight and drew his own bow, loosing at the enemy even as his father struck down another man. His own arrow fell short, but he paid no attention, being swept up in the excitement. They reached the end of the enemy line and turned back, loosing arrow after arrow. The charioteer grunted in pain, and Seti looked up as warm blood spattered his face. An enemy arrow had found a mark in their charioteer's arm.
"It is nothing, Son of Re," the charioteer said.
"Take us back," Merenptah ordered. "I am out of arrows anyway."
As the royal chariot returned, a dozen others sped out, following the same tactics, peppering the enemy with arrows, inflicting some casualties and losing one chariot and two men when an arrow brought down a horse. As the other chariots returned, Merenptah gave a signal, the rams' horns sounded and banners dipped. A great shout went up as the legions charged forward.
The serried ranks of the Kemetu soldiers wavered and came apart as they ran, the inevitable result of men running at different speeds over uneven ground, and so they hit the waiting Sea Peoples foot soldiers as a series of small blows rather than one massive blow. The receiving line rippled, some men falling back, others pressing forward eager to throw back the Kemetu, and within the space of a hundred breaths the plain seethed with soldiers where one man attacked another or defended for his life. Any thought of fighting as a group was lost in the confusing melee.
Seti viewed the battle from the rear, hopping up and down with excitement in the royal chariot. Every few moments he would glance at his father standing alongside him, hoping to see the signal for a chariot charge, or some sign that they would be taking an active part in the battle. In the end, he could not control himself.
"Why do we delay, father? We should charge and destroy the enemy."
"Not yet," Merenptah murmured. "Be patient."
The wait continued, and now even the other chariot warriors were fidgeting with impatience, but none dared move before the king gave the signal. The foot soldiers fighting in the battle hacked and stabbed with axes, curved swords and spears, hammered with clubs and staves, breaking bones, hacking off limbs, caving in skulls and dealing out horre
ndous wounds that gushed blood and elicited a wide variety of yells, coughs, moans and screams. Bronze clashed on bronze or thumped against wood and leather shields. A man threw his opponent to the ground in a welter of blood, then turned and stabbed another enemy soldier in the back before falling under a bronze axe. Dust covered everything and everyone, sticking to blood-spattered bodies and limbs, obscuring identification symbols. All that could distinguish friend from foe were the plumed headdresses on some of the Sea Peoples, and beards on others. The Kemetu soldiers were clean-shaven and, for the most part, bare-headed.
The melee shifted, first toward the Kemetu standards, then toward the enemy. Merenptah watched the progress of the battle keenly, looking for the opportune time to hurl his chariots into the fray and roll the enemy up.
"Soon," he muttered.
A horn sounded from deep within the enemy ranks and Merenptah lifted his head, trying to discern whether the sound had meaning. As he watched, the enemy soldiers swayed aside and drew their opponents with them, leaving a broad swath of the battlefield tenanted only by the dead and grievously wounded.
"My Lord," the king's charioteer said. "That was our signal."
"What does he mean, father?" Seti asked.
Merenptah did not answer, but turned to give his own commands, the rams' horns from behind the Kemetu lines offering a muted bleat as a growing thunder made the ground tremble. The king turned and stared. Dimly through the clouds of dust, enemy chariots appeared, rushing into the gap between the fighting men, a deadly arrow formation aimed at the Kemetu king. A brief hesitation, then the horns sounded again and the Kemetu chariot squadrons leapt forward, rushing to meet the oncoming enemy.
The two formations flew together, horses fighting against the reins, the whites of their eyes showing as they swerved and plunged, racing past enemy chariots. Wheels touched and shattered, throwing riders under the hooves of stampeding beasts, bronze blades slashed and cut, wreaking havoc, and bows bent, arrows flying at point blank range. Both chariot squadrons foundered amidst the battle, but individual chariots survived.
King Baenre Merenptah's chariot was among them. The charioteer had been struck down by a spear, but Merenptah had grasped the reins and steered them through to comparative safety beyond the battle. Seti hung on, yelling with excitement, too inexperienced to realise just how close they had come to death. The baggage train of the Sea Peoples was at the rear of the enemy lines, and being almost deserted, would have been easy for the remaining chariots to overrun. Merenptah passed up the temptation and ordered his remaining force to swing wide to left and right and harry the foot soldiers still battling it out.
Scores of Kemetu fell beneath the king's chariots, but hundreds of the enemy fell too, and as they were pressed on both sides, the Sea Peoples now started to withdraw. Some of their own chariots had survived, but they swung wide, avoiding further conflict. Horns sounded on both sides, and the enemy started to disengage, though some units still fought fiercely as they covered the escape of the rest.
Merenptah called for his men to complete the destruction of the enemy, urging them in pursuit, but the men were exhausted and showed some reluctance. Too few chariots survived intact to be effective, and there was always the possibility that the enemy chariots would attempt another attack if the Kemetu pursuit became too attenuated. Angry and impotent, Merenptah called a halt, and watched the Sea Peoples' army withdraw, battered but intact.
To the south, barely discernible in the distance, three light chariots raced past the scene of the conflict, hurrying to catch up with the main force. Merenptah saw them and for a moment contemplated sending his own chariots out to destroy them. The moment passed in indecision, however, and the king turned to his commanders, seeking news as to the legions' health.
Once more, the Kemetu collected right hands, and brought their own dead together for temporary burial in the dry desert sands. They had inflicted far less damage on the disciplined army of the Sea Peoples, and suffered almost as many casualties themselves, particularly among the chariot squadrons. General Hotepnebi, holding his side where a war club had bruised him, advised caution in pursuit.
"They withdrew, Son of Re, rather than fleeing. The Sea Peoples are still a force to be noted."
"Yet they withdrew," Merenptah said. "If we do not pursue, keep them moving, they will turn and fall upon us again. The victory is not yet won."
"That is true, Son of Re," Hotepnebi said. "Yet we may not have the strength to win victory outright. Disebek, what is our strength?"
Commander Disebek looked troubled, not wanting to bring bad news before the king. "General...Son of Re...Five hundred enemy dead, but nearly as many of our own. The Re legion is now dangerously under-strength, the Ptah legion less so."
"And chariots, Besenmut?"
Commander Besenmut shook his head. "Forty-seven survive, but only thirty could face another battle. The enemy squadrons now outnumber us."
Merenptah ground his teeth and stared toward the dust cloud raised by the retreating foe. "It pains me to leave the enemy intact," he said, "for he will return to face us again, yet we have won a victory here today..."
The commanders looked at General Hotepnebi with raised eyebrows, but the old general just shrugged.
"...so have the men raise a great cairn of rocks on this spot. The priests will offer praise to the gods that I defeated the enemies of Kemet, and the scribes will take down my words so they may be carved into monuments throughout the Two Lands, commemorating this victory."
"Are we going home now, father?" Seti asked.
"We will hold the field of battle for a day, so that the enemy cannot claim even a partial victory as they did at Kadesh when my illustrious father Usermaatre crushed the Hatti but then withdrew."
"We are low on water," Disebek murmured.
"Do I have to think of everything?" Merenptah snapped. "Send out mules to the nearest wells."
The king's servants had erected a tent on an area untouched by the battle, and now the king and his young son retired to it. They washed and changed their clothes before sitting down to a meal.
Seti looked thoughtful as he chewed on cold goose and fine barley bread, washed down with warm weak beer. "Father," he asked, "is a chariot battle always so...so...I don't know the word...so all over the place?"
Merenptah grunted. "Chaotic, you mean? Disordered? No, we were taken by surprise by the attack of the Sea Peoples. A few moments more and we would have been the ones attacking. Then you would have seen a very different outcome." He toyed with a piece of bread, breaking small pieces off and rolling them in his fingers. "Chariots are very useful against undisciplined troops or when harrying supply lines, but if you are countering a chariot charge with one of your own, then it becomes a disaster for everyone. We lost fifty chariots today, and the enemy a lesser number, but the gods smiled on us despite our losses."
"But we won, didn't we, father?"
"Yes we did, and you can hold your head up, my son. You acquitted yourself well today."
"I wish Tausret was here to see me. She'll be so jealous when she hears."
"A battlefield is no place for a woman."
"She's quite good with the bow, father, though nowhere near as good as me, of course. She doesn't get to practice as much as me. And I'm a man," he added.
Merenptah's eyebrows lifted. "I thought she had left all that behind when she became a woman. It's one thing for a young girl to have an interest in all aspects of society, but another for a grown woman to have warlike pastimes. I will have to look into this when we return to Men-nefer."
"You won't tell her I told you, will you?"
"I shall tell her it has come to my notice. If she makes the connection with you, you will have to deal with it." Merenptah smiled. "You're not afraid of her, are you?"
Seti looked incredulous. "Of a girl?"
"You like her, don't you?"
Seti shrugged. "I suppose so."
"Would you like to marry her?"
"
Tausret?"
"Yes, Tausret. She is a royal princess, daughter of my older brother Sethi, and your cousin. You need to marry and produce sons of your own because I am getting old and who knows when the gods will call me. Also, it would settle her down."
"Does she want to marry?"
"I'm sure that like all women, she thinks of marriage."
"But to marry me?"
"She'll do as she's told, as will you if I decree it. But I'd rather you came to it willingly."
Seti contemplated his father's words. "If it is your will, father, I will do it. And...and willingly if Tausret agrees."
"Then as soon as we get back to Men-nefer, we will ask her."
Chapter Twenty-Four
Year 3 of Baenre Merenptah
Marriage was the last thing on Tausret's mind, though other possibilities were crowding uncomfortably in upon her as she clung to the railing of the lightweight scouting chariot as it bounced its way across the desert. She looked to her left and saw Ti-ament clinging to another chariot, and a little behind, the third chariot carrying the commander of the Sea Peoples...What did he call himself? Kaftor? She cast her mind forward to what might happen when she was delivered into the hands of the king or general in command of the Sea Peoples' army.
Do I identify myself or keep quiet? If I tell them I'm a princess we might be ransomed, but they might use me to extract tribute. Would Merenptah pay? How much am I worth? But what if I don't tell them? What is our fate then?
Tausret had heard enough tales of the fate of women taken in war to have few illusions as to what might happen to them. The question only remained whether they would be reserved for one or a few officers or handed over to the soldiers. Both fates made her shudder, but she refused herself the solace of tears. The gods would decide.
She turned to the man controlling the chariot, recalling as much of the border dialects as she could from her minimal exposure to people from those parts. "You Kaftor? Yes?" When the man nodded, she asked, "Sea People all Kaftor?"