by Overton, Max
Iurudef attended upon his Tjaty. "Your orders, sir?"
"Escort General Psenamy to his residence and leave an honour guard with him--five men. He is to remain there until I decide otherwise. Divide the Amun legion into groups of ten and place a junior officer from the Sobek in charge of each. They are to camp with the Sobek outside the city walls. If any resist, you will use whatever force is necessary to subdue them. I would rather no-one died, but I will not be angered if that happens." Iurudef saluted and turned to his men, yelling out orders to his subordinates.
General Psenamy flushed and opened his mouth to protest, but saw the Sobek officers rapidly taking charge of his own men. The Amun legionnaires looked to him for leadership but failed to find it, so they submitted with no more than a half-hearted protest.
"Amun legion...who are your officers? Step forward," Paramessu called. After a few moments, a dozen men came out from the ranks hesitantly. The senior officer saluted.
"Amentep, sir. Lieutenant, Amun legion." He licked his lips and glanced around. "Er, what is happening, General Psenamy?"
"General Psenamy has been relieved of his command. I am General Paramessu, Tjaty of the Two Kingdoms. You will take your orders from me now. Do you understand?"
"Y...yes, sir."
"Who are these other men with you, Amentep?"
"Leaders of Hundreds, Fifties, Tens, sir. Do you want their names?"
"Later, when I decide if I'm keeping them. The Sobek legion commander will detail groups of fifty men under a Leader of Fifty. One of your officers will accompany each group as they sweep Waset for others of the Amun legion. They will inform each group they find of the realities of the situation, and march them back to their barracks. You understand, Amentep?"
"Yes sir."
"Alright, talk to your officers; make sure they understand their duties."
Paramessu waited while Psenamy was marched off, several groups of fifty men with an Amun officer set off into the city, and the common soldiers of the Amun were rounded up and swallowed by the Sobek legion.
"What now, sir?" Iurudef asked.
"Detail an honour guard of a hundred men to accompany me to the palace. The sooner Waset realises it is under the control of a Tjaty who means business, the better."
Iurudef summoned a Troop Leader, Maakha, and gave him his instructions.
Paramessu marched to the palace. Men and women thronged the streets, eager to see what was happening, and calling out questions and comments. He had men call back that General Paramessu had been appointed Tjaty of both Kingdoms by the king-designate and that he was in charge of the city. The Sobek legion would restore order. The men also told the crowds that Lord Horemheb would be arriving in Waset shortly, whereupon he would bury the old king and be crowned king by the priests of Amun. The news spread rapidly and excited crowds followed Paramessu up to the old royal palace.
A number of nobles were waiting for Paramessu in the reception hall of the palace. They had heard the news and were waiting there to offer their respect. Not all the nobles bowed to Paramessu though, holding themselves aloof. Paramessu addressed the assembled nobility and read out his appointment to them, 'so that none might plead ignorance'. He called upon the nobles to offer a pledge of loyalty to the king-designate.
The richly-dressed and adorned men and women hesitated, their glances turning to two older men who stood a little apart, each with a small group of guards in attendance. One of them stepped forward and the room quietened for him.
"Are we to see a return to the troubled days when a soldier, an adventurer, claims the throne of Kemet? This will destroy the Ma'at of the Kingdoms. Far better to let the family of Nebmaetre Amenhotep continue on the throne. They are blessed by the god Amun in his own city."
Paramessu listened, judging the support for the speaker among the people present. "It is common courtesy to identify yourself to the Tjaty when you address him."
"I do not recognise your authority. You have a legion to back you but that will not suffice if the people of Waset and the Amun legion rise against you."
"You still have not told me who you are."
"I am Nebamen, a son of Nebmaetre Amenhotep."
"And I am Raweret, also a son of the great Nebmaetre," said the other older man. He joined Nebamen in the open space before Paramessu. "Talk of putting a general on the throne of Kemet is premature..."
"...and treasonous," Nebamen added.
"...and treasonous," Raweret agreed, "While there are true sons of Nebmaetre available. Who else has a better claim?"
Paramessu smiled. "Where were your claims when Smenkhkare and Tutankhamen were elevated? They were sons of Nebmaetre but younger than you. Why did they have a true claim and you did not?"
"That is immaterial," Raweret said.
"We were content to see our brothers on the throne," Nebamen said.
"And when Ay took the Kingdoms?"
Nebamen shrugged. "Ay had the army and besides, he was a relative."
"And he married Tutankhamen's widow."
"That too," Nebamen agreed.
"And now Lord Horemheb has the army."
"But he is still just an adventurer, a nobody who will plunge our country into ruin. Kemet needs a relative of Nebmaetre on the throne, and by good chance we have one ready to take up the kingly burden."
"Two," Raweret said firmly.
"Of course, there is always marriage," Paramessu said, hiding his amusement. "Marrying into the royal family has always been a path to the throne. Like Ay."
Nebamen looked smug. "Alas, all the true-born females of Nebmaetre's line are dead. Ankhesenamen was the last of them."
"There is one other."
Raweret looked uncertain. "Oh? Who?"
"Princess Beketaten."
Nebamen smiled. "She died years ago."
Paramessu stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Strange, I saw her a mere fifteen days ago in Ineb Hedj. Marriage preparations were well under way. She will be here soon and you may see for yourselves."
Raweret paled visibly, but Nebamen sneered. "A likely story. Everyone knows she died in the desert when Ay became king."
"She survived. Now, I have many things to see to as Tjaty, so you two either submit to my authority now, or explain to the king why you did not in a month's time. What is it to be?"
Raweret looked to his half-brother for guidance. Nebamen pointedly turned his back on Paramessu and strutted from the reception hall. Raweret followed, and a few other nobles joined them. Most pressed forward to offer their pledges of loyalty to the new king and his Tjaty.
Maakha looked thoughtfully after the rebellious nobles. "Shall I pursue and arrest them, sir?"
"No, leave them, they are toothless. When they have had a chance to think, they will reconsider their position."
When the loyal nobles had all made their pledges, Paramessu gave Maakha his instructions. "First thing; send a messenger to Commander Iurudef. Request he attends on me here immediately. Second; have servants bring food and wine to the Tjaty's quarters, I will set up my base there.
"You are appointed Overseer of Palace Security. Interview the existing guards; dismiss any of doubtful loyalty and put your own men in place. In the morning, you will arrange for the palace Chamberlain and the overseers to report to me to deliver an accounting of their actions. Then send messengers to the priests of all the principal gods that I want to see them here in the palace at noon. Make sure the man you send to the temple of Amun is suitably deferential--request the First Prophet's presence rather than order him. I will see Psenamy here afterward, then the leading businessmen of the city. Alright, that is the lot. Get on with it."
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Chapter Ten
Abrim and his companions made good time through Kanaan, and three days later were approaching the line of forts that guarded the approaches to the rich lands of northern Kemet. They were unaware of the intense activity around the westernmost part of the line, where two armies wer
e vying for control of the Fort of the Gulls near the coast road. A mounted patrol of the Heru legion surprised them not long after dawn on the fourth day. They turned and ran, forced north and west again. The pursuit was lengthy, but in the end, their mounts proved superior to the army horses and they lost their pursuers in the dry stream valleys and scrubland. Now well out of their way, and not wanting to risk further contact with Kemetu patrols, Abrim cautiously led them down the coast road.
The Shechites came to the Fort of the Gulls after dark and saw the innumerable camp fires of an army around it. They drew rein and dismounted, leaving the horses behind while they crept forward to reconnoitre. They saw the guards and heard their murmured conversations as they leaned on their long spears.
"Amorites," Gershon hissed. "What are they doing here?"
"They must be laying siege to the fort," Dahvin whispered. "What do we do?"
"The gates are open," Hakkan observed. "The Amorites must have captured it."
"There is nothing for it," Abrim said. "We must work our way round the fort, tonight, under cover of darkness."
The four men crept back to their horses and led them in a wide circle, circumventing the scattered camp fires, staying in the shadows and waiting with one hand on their horses' muzzles, the other on their swords as patrols passed them by. The night passed slowly and they worked their way through the Amorite lines to the Kemetu side of the fort. Toward dawn, they encountered a mounted patrol returning from scouting the Kemetu lines. Abrim and his companions hid once more, but Dahvin's mount picked up the scent of the passing horses and whickered softly before he could prevent it.
The patrol halted, and turned toward them, several pairs of eyes searching out the shadows, seeking the source of the noise. After a few moments, the officer murmured an order and the Amorite horsemen started toward them, weapons drawn.
"We are outnumbered, we must flee," Abrim whispered.
"Split up?" Hakkan questioned. "Four different directions. Some might escape."
Gershon shook his head, dimly seen in the growing light. "We must protect Abrim and the golden scarab. We three must act as a decoy and draw them away."
Abrim nodded reluctantly. "May the gods be with you."
Gershon, Hakkan and Dahvin mounted and kicked their heels into their mounts' sides, bursting past the oncoming horsemen as they reached the edge of the shadows. Cries of alarm greeted them and the Amorites wheeled in pursuit, thundering after them only a few paces behind.
Abrim saw the Amorite horsemen outlined against the greying sky for an instant and saw the ominous shapes of the objects in their hands. Without any real hope of being heard by his friends, he screamed out a warning. "Bowmen, beware!" Then he was onto his own horse and heading fast in the opposite direction.
The warning had been enough, though, and three horsemen were onto him within seconds. An arrow slashed past him, and another, and then two buried themselves in his horse's flank and it squealed, missed its footing and tumbled. Abrim felt himself flying, the sky and ground changing places in quick succession. He landed hard and cracked his head, falling once more into night.
A pounding pain greeted him, and he turned sideways and vomited. His senses reeled, sight being nothing but bright splashes, sound merely gabbling cries, and he could smell the sour stink of his stomach contents on his robes.
"He's coming round."
"Give him water."
Cold water drenched his face and upper body. Abrim gasped, sat up quickly and then collapsed back with a groan. Shapes and sounds coalesced into dimly seen Amorites standing around him in a large tent. He closed his eyes.
"Wake up, spy," said a voice. "Or worse will happen to you."
Abrim opened his eyes and tried to focus on the man squatting beside him. "Where...wha' happ'...?"
"A patrol caught you, spy. Now, you can cooperate and tell me what I want to know, or I can let my men have a bit of sport."
"...Not a spy..." Abrim mumbled.
"Then what were you doing trying to sneak into our camp?"
"I..." Abrim sat up and clutched his head. He dry-retched and the stink of vomit wafted out of him again. "I am a simple Shechite tribesman, trying to avoid both Amorite and Kemetu."
"You saw Kemetu? Where?"
Abrim shook his head and groaned again. He fingered the swelling on the back of his head and his fingers came away bloody. "East of here, and a bit north. We were circling around them when we ran into your patrol."
"Where exactly, and in what force?"
"I am not a fighting man...about a day's fast ride east. I only saw perhaps ten riders. We rode fast and lost them in the rough country north of here."
"We?"
Abrim cursed under his breath and then realised that his captors must be aware of his companions as they had chased them. Did they escape ? "My kin, also Shechite."
The Amorite beside him moved and Abrim saw that his right hand was missing. In its place was a carved hand of gold. "Shechite lands are far to the south and east in the Land of Sin. What were you doing in the north? Who were you spying for?"
"We were not spying. I have kin in the north, near Gubla. We drove some goats north a few months back, sold them, visited my relatives, and we are just now returning."
The man with the golden hand regarded his captive impassively. "If I interrogate your companions, will they say the same thing?"
Abrim's face slumped, though he tried to hide it with another groan and clutching of his injured head. "You caught them?"
"My men are efficient."
Light splashed across Abrim as the tent flap was thrust aside and a man entered. He saluted and handed a message to golden hand. "General Jebu, sir, a message from Commander Murtu."
"You are Jebu?" Abrim asked.
The man with the golden hand looked up from the unopened message and regarded his captive in surprise. "You know me? I am sure I have never seen you."
"I know of you. Your name is well known even in my land."
Jebu grunted and opened the message. He scanned it and then handed it back to the messenger. "Tell him soon." The man saluted and left the tent.
"So, what am I to do with you, Shechite? If you are a spy, then I should torture you for your knowledge and then kill you, but if you are not, then you are no use to me and I might as well kill you."
"Or you could let me go," Abrim said.
"Or I could let you go," Jebu agreed. He rose to his feet and gestured. "Bring him."
Two burly guards hauled Abrim to his feet and hustled him from the tent. They dragged him, stumbling and falling, through the Amorite camp where men watched him with interest, and into another tent.
"There are your friends," Jebu said. He stepped aside and watched in amusement as Abrim stared down at the bodies of Gershon and Hakkan. "There was a third man, but he is no doubt lying dead somewhere. My men hit him but he slipped away in the darkness."
"You did not catch him? I thought your men were efficient."
"Is that bravery speaking, Shechite, or foolishness?"
"Anger, Amorite, for these men never hurt anyone."
"Control your anger, then, or it will get you killed."
"What does it matter if you have already decided to kill me?"
"Perhaps I have not yet decided. Come." Jebu led the way out of the tent and they crossed the camp again until they came to a richly appointed tent with many guards. On the general's instructions, the guards sat Abrim down in a chair and fetched wine for Jebu.
Jebu drank deeply and contemplated his captive. "Will you have wine? Or beer? Many of the soldiers prefer it."
Abrim ran his tongue around his dry, blood-caked mouth and swallowed painfully. "Water." Jebu signed and a soldier brought a pannier of tepid water, holding it while Abrim drank. "Thank you."
"You had silver and copper in your saddlebags," Jebu said. "So I might be inclined to believe your story of selling goats in Gubla. However, your horses all bore marks of Kemetu mounts, Zarw to be precise. T
hat makes me think you are spies. You certainly did not buy horses in Zarw to herd goats the length of Kenaan. Tell me what you really are, Shechite, and I may let you go."
Abrim considered his choices. Dahvin may escape or he may be dead. I have the scarab though. If I die, the scarab is lost again, but while I live, there is a chance ..."I will tell you." He fumbled in his robe and pulled out an object, setting it on the table in front of him. "I was sent to bring this to Ineb Hedj."
Jebu leaned forward and examined the object, nudging it with his golden hand. "What is it?"
"A mighty talisman."
"This?" Jebu laughed. "This is merely a rock carved in the form of an insect...a beetle. And badly carved, I might add. No-one in their right minds would call it a talisman, mighty or otherwise."
Abrim sighed. "You are right. The woman called Scarab, who is also called the Eye of Geb, lost an amulet somewhere on the Taanach to Gubla road when she was captive. It had some sentimental value to her--passed down from her mother, I hear, and she greatly desired its return. We volunteered to go and look for it, thinking there would be a rich reward for its finder. I do not know if this is her lost amulet, but I found it up there, so I am bringing it back. Was bringing it back."
"Scarab? The witch? The one who could turn back violence with a gesture and curdle your blood with one glance from her stone eye?" Jebu shuddered. "I have half a mind to let you take it back to her, just to rid myself of its evil association."
Abrim tried to keep a neutral expression on his face but his mouth twitched as he offered up petitions to the gods.
"On the other hand," Jebu went on. "It would be a pity to lose a possible bargaining tool. If this Kemetu witch wants it, she may pay to get it back. Is she rich?"
"Well-born, rather than rich, and a captive of Horemheb. She fears for her life and...and this amulet might bring her peace."
Jebu laughed again. "I do not wish her well, but neither do I wish Horemheb well." He picked up the carving and frowned. "It is unusually heavy. Perhaps I will keep it for myself as a curiosity."
"My lord general," Abrim said carefully, "It is said that the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Scarab is the enemy of Horemheb, and you have an opportunity here to win yourself a powerful friend. Let me take the amulet back to her and you will benefit from her actions."