by Overton, Max
Seti sneered. "What would you have me call you? Mother? I will not, for I have a mother in Zarw."
"No, I cannot ask that of you, but you could call me Scarab. It is a name I am known by throughout Kemet."
"What sort of outlandish name is that for a woman?"
Scarab smiled sadly. "It was a name for a little girl who had no other. Your uncle Akhenaten gave me it, and your uncle Smenkhkare loved me for it. It is a name for an outcast, for a woman fated to move through men's lives like the disc of the sun rolled across the heavens by the god. My task consumes me and I have had no chance for love or family."
"I do not believe you...Scarab. My father has told me how you warred against Kemet, seeking to destroy Ma'at and put a pretender on the throne. Even when that failed you could have returned to Zarw. My father would probably have forgiven you, but no, you would not even try. You gave up on me as you gave up on my father and every decent thing."
"I did no such thing. I never gave you up, but only left you in safety at your grandfather's house and under the care of my friend Miriam. I could not take you, but I had to answer the call of my brother King Smenkhkare. I hoped to be back in a few months, but it was a few years. You were too young to remember, but I came back and tried to claim you. Your grandfather turned me away, and then your father did. I have never stopped loving you, Set. You are my son, and I love you."
"You keep calling me Set. My name is Seti, after my grandfather."
"Your name is Set, after the god. I named you myself."
"If you want me to call you Scarab, then call me Seti. It is the name by which I am known."
Scarab bowed her head. "If you wish it."
There was silence for a few minutes and then Seti cleared his throat. "You are well, Scarab? You have everything a royal wife could want?"
"I am well enough. As for what I want, can you grant me freedom?"
"You speak as if you are a prisoner."
"I am. Well treated, but a prisoner nonetheless."
"But you are the king's wife. What more could you want? What would you do with this freedom you want?"
"I am king's wife against my will. I am held in this palace, in this city, against my will. I am prevented from seeing who I like, when I like. I am not a mere woman to do her husband's bidding."
"But...you are treated well? At least as a king's daughter, sister and wife you have been free of the hardship that afflicts many."
Scarab laughed bitterly. "You think so? I was ignored when I was young, hunted and tortured as a woman, abused, raped and imprisoned. The only man who treated me well was my brother Smenkhkare and when I went to his defence, everyone turned against me, including your father...and now you."
"I did not know."
"No. How could you?"
"You...you said 'torture'?"
Scarab considered for a few moments and then drew her hair aside, revealing her closed eye. "I was captured and tortured to reveal the location of Smenkhkare's tomb. I resisted and they broke my bones, pierced my body and destroyed my right eye. Then they left me in the desert to die, but the gods had other plans for me, giving me gifts so that I might survive. One of them was my eye." She opened her right eye to reveal the gleaming gold stone beneath the reddened eyelids. "The tribesmen of the desert call me 'Eye of Geb' because of it."
Revulsion and compassion warred on Set's face, but the latter won out. He drew nearer and looked at the stone eye more closely, then stepped back and looked at his mother as if seeing her for the first time. "Who did this to you? I will hunt him down and kill him."
"You are too late. It was Nakhtmin, the adopted son of Ay, acting on the king's orders. I took my revenge on him and his father."
Seti frowned. "I heard Nakhtmin died by the sword and Ay just fell down dead."
"The first is true," Scarab said. "I wielded the blade myself. As for Ay, I told him of his son's death and he clutched his heart and died." She saw her son's expression and reached out to him. "Do not feel sorry for them. Father and son were worthless and a blot on the reputation of Kemet."
"It is not that. I have killed in battle but never coldly, without regard for the man."
"You are very young, Seti, but I hope you never kill so often you do it without thought or regard. I have no doubt you will achieve whatever you set your mind to, but only spill blood when there is no alternative."
Seti nodded. "That was advice I thought to hear from my father, not my...my mother." He looked out of the window and saw the changed nature of the light. "I should leave. I carry dispatches from the king to my father."
"Yes, you should not delay when on the king's business. Will I see you again, Seti?"
"On my return from Waset." Seti bowed and started to leave. "Oh, I almost forgot. I stopped at the temple of Set in Iunu and the god told me to make a gift to my mother." He smiled and shrugged gently. "I have nothing with which to buy a gift as I get food and board from the army and have no need of gold or silver, but I found this on the battlefield." Seti took out a small soft leather pouch and handed it to Scarab unopened. "Until I can buy you some jewellery or something." He bowed and left the room.
When he had gone, Scarab wept softly for a few minutes, smiling through her tears. Then she dried her eye and went through into her inner rooms to wash and compose herself. A servant brought her wine and she sat and looked out at the river, trying to imagine which of the tiny boats scudding over the water carried her son. After a while, she remembered the gift and undid the pouch, tipping the contents out onto her hand.
It sat cupped in her hand as if it had never left her--a carved golden scarab. Scarab felt power moving through her and she fell down on her knees and offered up thanks to the Nine Gods of Iunu.
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Chapter Twenty-Nine
In the month that followed Horemheb's victory over the Amorites, he consolidated his gains by rebuilding the forts and strengthening them, and by pushing his legions north into Kanaan, sweeping aside any Amorite resistance. When he came to a halt, the Kemetu conquests had almost reached the lands of the Hittite enemy. He decided to go no further, leaving two legions to patrol the borders and hurried south again in response to an urgent missive from his Tjaty.
Paramessu had offered a truce to the Nubian rebels, allowing them time to recover and push into the rich farmlands along the river. The king cursed when he heard, vowing to break his Tjaty back down to the ranks, but when he had had time to think it over, he grudgingly saw the sense in it.
"You cannot ask even a Paramessu to face odds like those," he chuckled to himself. "You would have to be a Horemheb instead."
Now he would have to make the long journey south with as many men as he could scrape together. He left the Heru and Re legions in the north, and the Shu legion to oversee the Khabiru workers on the forts, taking Djedhor and the Geb legion back to Zarw. From this northern city he sent out riders to the governors of the sepats of Ta Mehu, ordering them to provide men and to have them on the eastern training fields opposite Ineb Hedj. Horemheb ordered the Geb legion south to start the training process with the new recruits and followed along slowly, conducting the business of the Kingdoms as he went.
By the time he reached the training ground, men were pouring in from all over the Delta land, being formed into units of five, of ten and a hundred. Officers were stripped from the Geb legion and other veterans conscripted from nearby towns. Recruits were drilled in the use of spear, sword, axe, club and bow, in how to stand firm in the face of attack, and the importance of unthinking obedience. When Horemheb arrived in the huge, loose camp on the river plains, the men found a new pride in themselves. The king had a reputation as an unbeaten general and everyone wanted to serve where this illustrious warrior could see him. Men who had served for three months told tales of their service, unashamedly exaggerating the part they had played in the king's victory; and young lads with the dirt of their farms still on their hands dreamed of winning the Gold of Val
our, bestowed by the king himself.
The business of government continued unabated, despite the preparations for war. A fleet of small boats carried ministers to and fro across the river, keeping the king apprised of every event that occurred within the Kingdoms, and in the neighbouring nations. Litigants came over too, wanting the king to make decisions on a hundred different cases; priests implored him to give gold for the upkeep and repair of temples; and his spies kept him informed of the little things that happened all around him.
Horemheb did not visit Ineb Hedj, nor did he ask his wife to visit him on the east bank. Few thought it strange that he foreswore such things for everyone knew that kings were above the emotions and desires that plague ordinary men. In fact, many praised his abstinence in a time of national crisis. What nobody knew was that Horemheb was aware of many things happening within his wife's demesne and he did not like them.
"Your messenger Seti, son of Paramessu, passed through here a month ago," said one of his spies. "While he was here, he visited the King's Wife in the palace and was closeted with her for an hour."
Was he, by the gods? I did not tell him to do so. Does he know? He must do. What does that mean for the succession? Is Paramessu to be my heir? He has a son already, and a likely young man he is too . The crown would pass smoothly for at least two generations .
"The King's Wife is often sick," said another spy.
That would solve a problem. No need to put her away or have her killed if she conveniently died of an illness .
"Shechite tribesmen have been gathering in the city," a third spy said. "Their leader is Jesua, who disappeared into the wilderness months ago."
I must increase the guards on her or else get rid of her tribesmen .
"The man Khu, a companion of the King's Wife, has become a physician, passing the examinations in the House of Life."
Why should I care ? "What else?"
The third spy looked at the others, hesitating. "It is hard to test the truth of some rumours, Great King."
"Tell me."
"A man on the point of death has been cured of a growth in his belly. It is said that he walks and talks and grows stronger by the day."
"Is that the best you have? Tales from the marketplace?"
"Great King," said Second Spy. "The man is the physician Nebhotep, also a companion of the King's Wife."
"And it is said, Great King," spoke First Spy, "That the King's Wife was present at the healing."
"Or even that she healed him," Third Spy added.
"Was Khu present also?" Horemheb asked.
"I believe so, Great King."
"Then there is your answer. Khu, who is also a physician, healed his friend. I am surprised you bothered me with such trivialities."
Horemheb sat and thought after his spies had left. Despite his words to them, he felt uneasy at such obvious signs of divine interference in everyday life. I will have to have her watched more closely. There was talk of her being a witch but she lost her powers. Have they returned? No, for she gets sick herself. If she was a witch she would not cure the physician and leave her own illness untouched .
Horemheb stretched his limbs after a long day of service to the Kingdom and went to conduct the evening services in the shrines set up on the training ground. As King and Per-Aa, he outranked the other priests and they looked to him to lead the worship whenever his other duties allowed. He was not absolutely sure in his own mind that the gods existed, but he knew that the hundreds of deities of Kemet were basic to Ma'at, to the stability of society, and anything that helped him control the Kingdoms was worthwhile supporting.
The responses by the leading priests was for the long life and health of the King and his Queen. Most priests smoothly modified the prayers, but an old priest of Djehuti blithely rambled on about the Queen of Kemet, though thankfully he did not name her. Horemheb stopped listening and turned his thoughts to a problem that had been niggling at him all day.
I need a Queen beside me, a wife to produce an heir. Paramessu is an interim solution but I want a son of my own body. I will put Scarab away and marry another, making her Queen. But who? She must be young and of good birth .
After the services, he retired to his tent for a light meal and then sent for Treasurer Maya, who was doing an accounting of the king's assets in the north. He outlined the problem to his trusted adviser.
"I need a wife that can also be Queen. She must be young and of good birth. Who do you suggest?"
"You already have a wife of the highest birth, Per-Aa. She would make an excellent queen."
"Not the Lady Khepra. Forget her."
Maya thought for a few minutes. "You wish the lady to be comely?"
"Yes, I have to father children on her, and I would rather the task was pleasurable."
"Intelligent? Educated? Knowledgeable in affairs of state?"
"Not necessary. Her main function will be to bear me heirs."
"But from a good family?"
"Yes."
"There are not many to choose from." Maya thought a little more. "There is Neferet, daughter of Khasekhem. He is Overseer of the watermark at Behdet and owns estates near Waset and Ta-Senet. Old nobility, but the family has not distinguished itself in several generations. The woman is in her twenties, not unpleasant to look at, is widowed, with a young son."
"There would be hereditary complications with her bringing a son to the marriage. Who else is there?"
"Rahotep, a retired Troop Commander, and owner of a large estate near Per-Wadjet, gifted to him by Nebmaetre. No official duties, but is a scribe and priest of Wadjet. His youngest daughter is sixteen and a beauty by all accounts."
"A possibility."
"The only other one who springs readily to mind is Mutnedjmet," Maya said.
Horemheb sat up straight. "Mutnodjmet? Not the sister of...?"
"No Per-Aa. Nefertiti's sister died several years ago. This young lady is Mutnedjmet, the daughter of Meryhapu, the hereditary custodian of the royal necropolis here in Ineb Hedj. She is in her late twenties, quite beautiful, and of excellent family. Her great-grandmother was a daughter of Menkheperure Djetmose by a junior wife."
"She sounds perfect."
"Only one small flaw, Per-Aa. She is married, though she has no children yet."
"Then that is not an insuperable obstacle. I will visit her father tomorrow. Arrange it."
"Yes, Per-Aa." Maya bowed and departed.
Horemheb left his army training on the east bank the next day and sailed across to Ineb Hedj with a small entourage of some fifty men, to call on Meryhapu at his estate on the border of the royal necropolis. The man came out to greet his king and knelt in the dust with his arms outstretched until the king bade him rise. Meryhapu sent his servants to minister to the men in the royal party, but he conducted Horemheb and Maya into his courtyard and served them wine and food with his own hands.
Meryhapu did not know the reason for the king's visit, Maya's message having told him nothing the previous night, so he assumed it was connected with his administration of the necropolis. Since dawn, he had had hundreds of men at work, tidying and polishing, sweeping the sand from the temples and shrines, renewing the oil in the lamps and scrubbing soot from the ceilings. His own son-in-law, Khenem oversaw the effort, so Meryhapu was certain all was in order, but he knew better than to take a visit by the king for granted.
"How may I be of service, Great King?"
Maya answered for the king. "The king desires to see your daughter Mutnedjmet."
"M...my daughter?"
"Yes, please bring her here."
Meryhapu opened his mouth and closed it again. He bowed and hurried away, returning a few minutes later. "My wife is fetching her. She...she is in her h...husband's house, Great King."
A little later, two women and a man entered the courtyard and fell on their knees before the king.
"Great King, may I present my wife, Ankhmut." The older woman stretched out her arms and was told to rise and be seat
ed. "This is my daughter Mutnedjmet, and her husband...my son-in-law, Khenem."
The king bade them rise and told the man to sit down. He looked closely at the slim woman standing before him and remarked, "She is every bit as beautiful as you said, Maya. How old are you, Mutnedjmet?"
"I am twenty-nine, Great King," Mutnedjmet replied, her eyes properly downcast.
"Do you have children, Mutnedjmet?"
"No, Great King."
"There was a stillborn son, Great King," Meryhapu said.
Horemheb nodded. "I understand your ancestors were royal. I am minded to take you to wife myself. You would have no objections?"
"G...great King," Meryhapu stuttered. "You do us a great honour."
Horemheb looked at the mother, who was beaming, and the husband, who was trying to hide his anger and fear. Mutnedjmet said nothing, but the expression on her face was one of sadness. "What do you say, Mutnedjmet?"
The young woman glanced at her husband longingly, then back at the king. "I am married already, Great King."
"That need not be an obstacle," Maya interposed. "A divorce is a simple matter to arrange. What the king desires to know is whether you are willing."
"My lord Treasurer, the king can surely have his choice of women. Young virgins to bear him strong sons. What does he want with me? I am old and married."
"You are what I want as a wife and a queen," Horemheb said.
"Queen?" Meryhapu echoed. "Great King, of course my daughter is willing."
"I will hear it from her lips though. Mutnedjmet?"
The young woman held out her hands to her husband and Khenem came to her. He faced the king. "Great King, we love each other."
"What has love to do with it when the Kingdom has need?" Maya asked. "Would you put your desires above those of Kemet? The king needs a Great Royal Wife on whom to father sons and he has done you the signal honour of selecting you. Would you refuse the king?"
Mutnedjmet wept softly, and Khenem stood with an expression of anguish on his face, looking beseechingly at the king.
"Enough of this," Horemheb said. "What do you say, Mutnedjmet?"