by Max Overton
Merenptah enjoyed his duty as high priest of Ptah, but he was still capable of presiding over the law courts when the Tjaty was indisposed, and here he took Seti, letting him listen to the weighing of evidence, adjudicating between contesting parties, and handing down judgments.
"Never be afraid of passing judgment, my son. Be firm, and make the best decision you can based on law."
"But what if I get it wrong?"
"You can't. Any judgment you make is the right one. You speak for the king, that is to say, for the law of the land." Merenptah regarded Seti's look of doubt. "You are thinking, what if you find in favour of Lord So-and-so, and later you find out Lord Such-and-such was really right? Well don't think it. You only favoured Lord So-and-so because the evidence was on his side at the time. Perhaps he spoke more fluently, or marshalled his facts more effectively, or even lied more convincingly, how are you to know? You work with what you have. Lord Such-and-such should have spent more time and effort on his case. He deserved to lose."
"But the truth, father. Is that not more important?"
"Only the gods know the absolute truth. Here on earth, we can only know some of the truth and must use that. If you prevaricate, putting off a decision until more is known, nothing will get done. More importantly, men will lose faith in you, and that must never happen."
Seti enjoyed his hours in the law courts, listening to his father pass judgement, but he spent more time on the things he enjoyed, honing his skill with the bow and spear, and learning how to drive a chariot singlehanded and fight at the same time. He revelled in these martial skills, and when he was not training or attending the law courts, he went hunting. Lions could still be found in the western deserts and leopards in the eastern hills, wild bulls and antelope came down to the farmlands to graze, and pehe-mau could be found in the rivers. All were dangerous animals and he revelled in the hunt.
Tausret often joined him on these hunts, and if some members of the court were scandalised at a woman joining in these manly pursuits, there were always those that reminded the critics of the prominent part she had played in the defence at Perire. Tausret herself did not care, for at last she was out from under the rule of her adopted father, and at least nominally in the care of her husband. Seti ruled with a light hand, not wanting to challenge Tausret by attempting to control her. She accepted her freedom as her due, and let her younger husband believe she followed his counsel.
When the royal couple went hunting in the desert, Seti would drive his own chariot, enjoying the sensation of speeding over sand and stone, the reins wound around his waist and his hands free to use his bow. Tausret followed in a two-man chariot, not having the strength to manage a team by herself and use a bow. She hated following in her husband's dust and continually urged her driver to go faster, to overtake Seti, but the wise young charioteer always found some excuse not to. As he explained to his fellow charioteers back at the royal stables, "I ain't such a fool as to show up the heir now, is I? Not even for the Lady, bless 'er."
Tausret much preferred the hunts along the riverbanks, hunts that involved less strength and more skill. Servants would pole shallow-draught punts through the reed beds, hulls whispering over the aquatic plants until at last ducks or other water fowl would burst into the air, alarm calls almost drowned out by the clattering and whirring of wings. Seti and Tausret would rise swiftly to their feet and release shaft after shaft into the massed birds, shouting as birds splashed back into the water. Then slaves would swim out and retrieve the fallen fowl, wringing their necks if they were still alive.
Sometimes toward the end of a hunt, when the corpses were piled high on the riverbank, Tausret would have a servant take her out alone and unarmed, just so she could look at the ducks swimming and feeding, heads down and rumps bobbing in the air or squabbling over choice titbits. Geese were there too, along with swans, ibis, storks and herons, the latter stalking the margins of the river, hunting for frogs or the little silver fish that swam in the shallow water.
If the hunt had continued late into the day, or had roamed farther afield than usual, Seti and Tausret would camp out. Servants would set out an awning and lay rugs over the close-cropped grass of a field, while slaves built cooking fires, plucked and gutted some of the day's catch, roasting them skewered on green twigs. They ate the fatty flesh with bread fresh baked in the embers and drank plain river water, and later lay together on the rugs and stared up at the star-studded body of Nut, sated and content.
It was on one such night that Tausret confided in her husband, "I have missed my monthly."
Seti lay there for a few moments, trying to make sense of the brief statement, and then sat up as he understood. "You are...are you certain?"
"I am with child, my love. Your son, I am sure of it."
"You cannot know it is a boy, and...and couldn't you be mistaken?" Seti stared at Tausret's belly. "You appear no different."
"It is early yet, so of course I do not show, but soon you will see my belly grow like the waxing moon. Are you happy, husband?"
"Of course I am happy. That is a future king of Kemet you have within you...and I put him there."
Tausret smiled and squeezed Seti's hand. "You ploughed my field most diligently, husband, and sowed a royal crop. The harvest will be a cause for much rejoicing."
"Does father know?"
"No one knows except the physician Piankh. He tested my water and confirmed that I will be the mother of a boy. I thought we could tell the king together."
"Tomorrow." Seti took Tausret in his arms and held her tightly, stroking her hair with one hand and kissing her neck tenderly. He laid one hand on her belly and looked at it thoughtfully. "You should not be out here, my love. From now on you must stay at home and guard yourself carefully."
Tausret shook her head. "I am not a pale-skinned, weak palace woman with nothing in my head except the running of a household or pleasure. I enjoy being outside, hunting in the reed beds, or riding in a chariot."
"You cannot risk our son."
"It is well known that a pregnant woman must avoid meeting ugly people or cripples for fear that her child will be similarly afflicted, but where is the harm in what I do? Our son will be born with a love of hunting, of skill with the bow, and riding a chariot. None of these are bad things for a boy who will be king one day."
Seti frowned, the firelight accentuating the concern and anger in his face. "And women who neglect their unborn child often miscarry. You will do as I say and stay at home."
Tausret rolled away from Seti and came to her knees facing him. "You dare to say I would neglect our son?"
"I dare to say that riding a chariot might be neglectful. The shaking and jarring alone...and if you should have an accident..."
Tausret stood and turned away, staring into the dark night, her arms folded over her breasts, her shoulders hunched and tense. "I will give up riding in a chariot because you ask it, husband, but I will not give up hunting in the reed beds with my bow, or sleeping between Geb and Nut with you."
"You will have to eventually."
"When I must, but do not ask me to confine myself in that prison that is the palace at Men-nefer before my time."
Seti moved close to his wife and put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her neck. "It is a prison for me too, my love, but one I must bear if I am to be king. A king has a duty to his subjects that comes before personal pleasures."
"You are a man though, and favoured in the eyes of the gods. You will rule Kemet, go to war, go hunting, offer up sacrifice to the gods in their temples; whereas I am allowed only to rule a household, given servants instead of soldiers, expected to play with kittens or monkeys instead of hunting, and I cannot even be a priestess to the least of our goddesses. I do not ask to be a king, but a queen must have some freedoms."
"Since when have you done what is expected of you?" Seti chuckled, slipping his hands down Tausret's arms to her elbows. "I am told that even as a young girl you demanded to be educated and father gave
in to you. Then you learned to use the bow, and for a while became better at it than me. Next you ran away to Waset, then ran away to war and got yourself captured by the Sea Peoples. Not content with that, you lead a small army against overwhelming odds and save Kemet. A bit of duck hunting in the reed beds is nothing compared to that."
Seti exerted pressure on Tausret's arms and turned her to face him, both faces shadowed by the night. "You are my wife now..." She stiffened and drew back, but he held her until she relaxed again. "You are my wife now," he repeated, "and when I am king, my word will be law. I will give you the freedom you desire, my love. We will hunt together, and you will join me in the law courts, seeing justice dispensed to all men."
"And war? Will we go to war together?"
Seti was slow to reply. "There can only be one general, one commander, but if you recognise my ultimate authority, then you may ride to war with me."
Tausret smiled, her teeth pale in the shadows. "And if you are unable to take the field, my husband? May I lead the army?"
Seti laughed and took Tausret in his arms, enfolding her and hugging her. "In that unlikely event, I would be proud to have you command the legions of Kemet."
* * *
Tausret's pregnancy was not an easy one. She enjoyed another month or so of hunting and outdoor activity, including a few chariot rides when Seti was engaged in court procedures or hunting in the desert, but on one of these she was overcome with cramps, and a white-faced charioteer delivered her back to the palace scarcely able to stand. Physicians examined her immediately, together with the palace midwives and noted the presence of blood on her thighs and vulva.
"What were you thinking?" Seti demanded of her as she lay in her bed. "We agreed there would be no more strenuous activity."
"Forgive me, husband," Tausret wept. "I just needed to feel the excitement once more. The sun in my face and the wind in my hair. Have...have I lost our child?"
Seti shook his head and smiled. "No. The physicians assure me the child is still firmly lodged, but there must be no repetition, my love. Not even duck hunting. They will prescribe prayers and medicines to strengthen the womb, and a strict dietary regimen. I expect you to keep to it without argument."
"Yes husband."
Seti raised his eyebrows at Tausret's ready acquiescence, but decided not to provoke her by doubting her word. Instead, he had a man watch her whenever she left the palace and bring word to him if she exerted herself in any way.
Tausret's diet was another thing to be borne in silence. It was not so much restricted as texturally bland. All her food, whether meat or fruit or vegetable was mashed and fed to her with a horn spoon.
One of the physicians explained. "The gullet is connected to the womb, and the food you eat becomes available to the baby. However, the baby lacks teeth, so the food must be in a form that the baby can take in, mashed and almost liquid."
"It's disgusting," Tausret said. "Other women eat solid food. Why can't I?"
"Most women do not need to do it, but because your baby was weakened, it must be specially strengthened."
"And drink?"
"A little wine, for wine is a preservative, but mostly water drawn fresh from the river, milk of course, but not beer. The ferment of beer may cause an imbalance in the internal organs."
"How long do I have to eat it like this?"
"Until the baby is born."
Tausret sighed and resigned herself to a dull few months. The other entrance to her womb also came in for some attention. Every few days, midwives would brew up a mix of honey and carobs steeped in milk, and introduce it to the womb via a small hollow horn while she lay with her lower body raised on cushions. It was undignified and uncomfortable and she swore she would never again put her unborn child at risk by unduly exerting herself.
Past her fourth month, physicians were kept from her presence lest their male influence should interfere with the female processes of nurturing and sustenance. The women known as midwives had no formal training in medicine, but had experience in childbirth and its several problems, so they attended to all of the queen's needs. Their gender would not interfere with the mother, so they ministered to her daily.
Weeks passed, the moon waxed and waned, and Tausret's belly swelled. The flood came, but weakly, and the priests saw in this a bad omen for the child. The thin covering of new soil deposited by the receding waters augured poor crops that year, and people looked with dismay toward the royal palace with its aged king, its young heir, and ill-omened baby expected any day. Some men whispered that the luck of Usermaatre had run out and that the gods' favour would pass to another family.
These whisperings did little for Tausret's temper. She felt she looked like a pehe-mau as she waddled around the palace, and persistent back pains drove her to lie down, then to sit up, then to walk until forced to lie down again. The servants tried to avoid her, as her tongue became sharper, and her mood swung violently from calmness to agitation.
Tausret's pains arrived in the night and she started awake with a cry, the linen sheets of her bed soaked with blood-tinged water. Servants came running, others ran to find the experienced women who would act as midwives, guiding the child into the world, and one went running to inform the father. Seti was allowed a brief visit before he was ushered out. No man, not even the husband, would be allowed near Tausret until after the baby had been born.
Tausret lay propped up on her bed while her servants bundled up the soiled linen and replaced it with fresh, clean sheets. Her hands rested on the thin linen covering over her swollen belly, and felt her muscles spasm, forcing a cry from her lips.
"I will not cry," she muttered. "I am a royal princess and a warrior woman who can bear pain. I will not..." She gritted her teeth as the pain from her contracting muscles swept over her.
Lady Nebettawy bustled in and stared disapprovingly at the servants swarming around the woman on the bed. "What are you doing making her comfortable? She is giving birth, not passing a stool." The old lady came over to the bed and put her hand first on Tausret's sweat-soaked hair, and then on her belly just as her muscles relaxed. "How long since the last pain, child?"
Tausret shook her head. "I don't know. Not long."
Lady Nebettawy questioned one of the servants, who showed her the soiled sheets and offered a more precise estimate of the time Lady Tausret had first cried out. She nodded, dismissing the servant, and turned back to Tausret. "Where does the baby lie?" she asked. "Still high up, or lower down?"
Tausret grimaced. "Lower, I think. I want to pass water." She started to get up, and Lady Nebettawy pressed her back into the bed. On her instruction, a servant brought a pad of linen and held it between Tausret's legs while she urinated, removing the wet cloth and cleaning her afterward.
"You should not be here," Lady Nebettawy said. "The birthing chamber is ready for you."
"I just want to stay here," Tausret said. "I'm tired and I can't face getting...aaah." Another wave of pain hit her, her belly becoming hard again. "Oh gods, it hurts."
"All the more reason to get you there. The little prince is in a hurry to enter the world despite this being your first child."
"First?" Tausret gasped. "You think I'm going to do this again?"
Lady Nebettawy allowed herself a small, knowing smile. "You will feel differently when you hold your baby in your arms. Now, we must get you to the birthing chamber."
The birthing chamber had been prepared a few days before in the gardens of the palace, a temporary structure made of papyrus fronds and linen sheets. It would be shaded and allow cool breezes to circulate in the heat of the day, but when they brought Tausret to it, servants helping her to stumble slowly along the garden paths, the chill of the pre-dawn bit into their bones. Lady Nebettawy ordered fire to be brought, along with oil lamps, and soon had the little chamber almost comfortable, for the observers at least.
Tausret let her determination not to cry out slip as the pains drew closer together, the waves of muscle tightening f
orcing cries of pain from her lips. They brought in the birthing chair and set it up. It was ornately carved with representations of Tawaret, the goddess of birth. The grotesque carvings of an upright pehe-mau with bulging belly and pendulous breasts formed the arms of the chair and the backrest was carved as the sacred vulture with outspread wings and clutching a shen ring in each claw, symbolising eternity. The chair had no seat.
"This is the royal birthing chair," Lady Nebettawy said. "Your mother used it, as did Lady Isetnofret when your husband Seti was born. King Baenre before him, and possibly even Usermaatre. This is the chair of kings, child."
"Where do I sit?"
"You don't. You will squat when the time comes."
"When will that be? Aaah...I just want it to be over."
"A little while yet, Lady Tausret. First children often take the longest. Pray to Tawaret if you like. The 'Lady of the Birth House' has watched over countless women. You'll get through it and scarcely remember the pain and discomfort."
"I'll never forget this," Tausret muttered.
Lady Nebettawy picked up a small clay statue of a grimacing dwarf and held it to Tausret's forehead. "This is Bes," she said. "The prayers to Heru and Het-her have been said over it in accordance with the rites. The gods and goddesses that watch over home and childbirth are invoked for your protection."
"Some poppy would be good," Tausret murmured. "Something to take the pain away."
Lady Nebettawy shook her head. "I will not risk the child. You must be strong."
The birth process continued, the pains gradually drawing closer together and eliciting, despite Tausret's determination to remain strong, ever more frequent oaths and cries of pain from her. She lay on a down-filled mattress with pillows supporting her, maidservants rubbing her hands and wrists, gripping her as the pains bit deep and wiping the sweat from her eyes. From time to time, Lady Nebettawy or one of the other women mediating the birth would examine her, feeling for the cervix of the womb, nodding sagely at their discoveries. At last Lady Nebettawy said, "It is time," and the women helped Tausret into a squatting position in the birthing chair, her legs spread and a linen cloth beneath her.