“Gods beyond counting,” I noted.
“Gods – or more correctly, the priests who service the gods – are the greatest drain on the land’s bounty, not a few dozen craftsmen,” Hednakht continued. “Your father has made massive donations of land to the three most important gods and their temples – Ptah’s at Mennefer, Re’s at Iunu, and Amen’s here at Waset. In fact, a third of all cultivable land in the valley belongs to those three gods. Three–quarters of that is Amen’s.”
“How in the world did that happen?” I asked, amazed at what the priests controlled.
“Amen used to be a local god known only at Waset,” Hednakht said. “But when King Ahmose’s family, with its roots in Waset, drove the Chiefs of Foreign Lands from Ta–mehi and reunified the valley more than three hundred–fifty years ago they gave Amen credit for their victory. To thank him Ahmose’s son, the first Amenhotep, added on to a small temple that the first Senwosret had erected five hundred years earlier a few paces from where we’re standing. Amenhotep’s son, the first Thutmose, added pylons and courts and obelisks. His successors added more of all three, plus barque shrines and temples. Now, fourteen kings and pharaohs later, all of whom attribute their successes to Amen, we have the sprawl of Ipet–Isut. And innumerable estates and market towns and workers under the Amen priests’ control to support it.”
“I’m aware Father added a shrine dedicated to himself here, and a sixth pylon, and expanded Khonsu’s temple.”
“One–time expenses,” Hednakht said. “It’s the endowments past pharaohs created that are depriving your father of resources now. I know the figures; Vizier To and I presented them to your father a couple of weeks ago on the journey to Abu. Ipet–Isut employs more than eighty thousand priests and workers, controls over nine hundred square miles of land, four hundred orchards, more than four hundred thousand head of livestock, sixty–five villages, eighty–three boats, and forty–six workshops. In comparison, the Temple of Ptah at Mennefer controls three thousand men, ten thousand beasts, eleven square miles of fields, five gardens, one market town, and two boats.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“It’s not all, Majesty. So far, during his reign, your father’s granted Amen nearly three hundred thousand sacks of grain, plus gold and copper and semi–precious stones, and wood and blocks of stone and such.”
“Seems to me if priests continue to accumulate lands and goods at this rate they’ll someday be more powerful than whoever’s pharaoh.”
“The only check to their power right now is Pharaoh’s Great Wife Iset in her role as God’s Wife of Amen. She controls considerable holdings of her own – estates, villages, workshops. Which means Pharaoh controls them.”
“Even more reason for me to field an army of conquest, Hednakht!” I slammed my fist into my palm. “Father should turn me loose on the world! I’d refill his treasury with tribute! He’s ruled how long? Twenty–eight years? Less than half as long as Ramesses the Great. Father could sit the throne for three more decades. Thirty more years, a campaign a year – the priests would be paupers compared to Father if I commanded his army.”
“Or Pharaoh could die tomorrow,” Hednakht said practically. “In the thirty–two years between Ramesses the Great and the start of your father’s reign there were six pharaohs. Your father’s reign has been exceptionally long already. So it may be your brother that you have to convince to let you command the army. Or even his son.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do,” I vowed. “I’m going to badger all three until one of them gives in. Someday, Hednakht, I will command Pharaoh’s army – whoever Pharaoh is. It’s my destiny.”
“I wish you luck, Majesty,” Hednakht said. “We all know how obstinate your father and brother can be. At any rate, Vizier To’s report worried your father enough that he’s going to move his court from Pi–Ramesses back to Djeme so he can keep a closer eye on Amen’s priests.”
“He’s been threatening to do that for years,” I scoffed.
“Not a threat anymore. He’s already set the move in motion,” Hednakht said. “Perhaps Vizier To will assign you to fill in for him in the North whenever he’s in the South.”
“I’d be of more use as his proxy than I am watching over the military facilities at Pi–Ramesses and manufacturing weapons,” I said bitterly. “It’s not fair Ramesses gets to go to war and I have to stay behind.”
“Look at it from your father’s perspective, Majesty. Your eldest brother Ramesses has overall command of his army. The next eldest, Amenherkoshef, commands Ramesses’ cavalry.”
I snorted. “A few horsemen who scout and carry messages. Underutilized.”
Hednakht shrugged. “Meryatum is Greatest of Seers at Iunu and is too valuable to ever remove from the priesthood. Setherkopshef is a child, too young to take the throne. The young Amenherkoshef – by the way, why do three men in your family have the same name?”
“Father’s idea. He named all of us after sons of Ramesses the Great. My brothers have different mothers so he forced it on both of them. The fourth Ramesses named his son, my nephew, in honor of the brother who commands his cavalry.”
“Anyway, he’s only a year younger than you, but shows no interest in either war or administration. The rest of your brothers are dead. Think of the disruption if Pharaoh let you go to war and his three eldest sons died in battle.”
“Think instead of what might happen if Father gave me his army and let me use it!” I reiterated. “When the third Thutmose became king our enemies pressed on our borders and hemmed us in this valley. He attacked them relentlessly and created the world’s first empire. He returned from each campaign with booty and annually received tribute from the lands he’d conquered. He received even more from kings who were afraid he’d invade them. Father should invest resources enough to support an invasion of the North. He should let me rebuild Thutmose’s empire. There’d be more than enough tribute to finance it.”
“Even less costly than an invasion – Pharaoh could simply marry you to the daughter of a foreign king and tie his land to ours,” Hednakht replied.
“One marriage, one land. A poor return. Besides, I’m going to marry a woman of my own choosing, Hednakht. I will not spend my life shackled to a wretch from outside the valley.”
“I’m not sure Pharaoh and Vizier To will see it that way, Majesty,” Hednakht cautioned.
“Then I’ll make them.”
***
One evening a week later I entered the lower tower room over Djeme’s entrance gate. It and the one above were packed with military officers I was cultivating and prominent local officials and close friends and serving girls and musicians and a bevy of unattached women. I quickly scanned the room. So many women, all beautiful and sensuous and, based on past experience, willing and accommodating. Tonight’s party would be the last of the nine I’d given during my sojourn in the South and I expected it to be memorable. According to Hednakht, Father would arrive in Djeme from Abu in a few days and so tomorrow I’d set out for the North along with Peyes and several boats full of supplies. My life was far more peaceful when the length of the valley lay between Father and me. The tower rooms were well–lit and hot and crowded and noisy, filled with laughter and loud conversation, and young serving girls circulating with platters of treats and jars brimming with wine. Many a couple was already paired off in its corners.
All the walls were brightly decorated with images of Father and various women. I studied the closest. In one scene, he was playing Senet. In another, women were bringing him broad collars, chanting a hymn, likening his body to precious stones. I read the inscription: Your hair is lapis lazuli; your eyebrows are black hematite; your eyes are green malachite; your mouth is red jasper. That wasn’t the Father I knew.
“Majesty!”
“El–ram!”
He was Father’s chief harem inspector. He hurried to me, closely trailed by half a dozen women. I recognized several – dancers who regularly entertained Father.
&nb
sp; “You’ve outdone yourself, My Friend,” I told him with satisfaction, draping an arm across his shoulders, surveying the room.
He’d arranged the party, as usual. El–ram had a good eye for women, which wasn’t surprising. He was in charge of Father’s Djeme harem whenever Father was in residence in Pi–Ramesses. Only a select few of Father’s concubines, his current favorites, ever traveled with him; he had a second harem filled with women to keep him company in the North. They lived on an estate in the Fayum – Mi–Wer – originally established by the third Thutmose a day’s journey by boat from Pi–Ramesses. Those Northern concubines not selected to attend Father at court spent their days weaving royal linen. Along with fabric, the estate’s bountiful fields supplied Father’s per’aa in Pi–Ramesses with foodstuffs and wine.
I’d known El–ram my whole life. We’d both been raised in Father’s harem along with my brothers and sister and various cousins and children of high–ranking courtiers. When I turned fifteen Father had put me in charge of the stables and chariot works and military encampment at Pi–Ramesses. I’d subsequently become acquainted with Peyes and the commanders of the four army divisions. The same year I’d been assigned in the North, El–ram had been sent to Djeme to oversee the Southern harem. I’d kept in touch with him ever since. I’d maintained our friendship specifically so I could keep tabs on what was happening in the harem. Mother was, as a wife of the king, best positioned to know what went on, but she always traveled with Father. I was interested in the gossip that spread throughout Djeme whenever she was absent. El–ram was a ready source and confidant.
“Luckily, your father’s concubines have plenty of beautiful friends,” El–ram replied.
I glanced at the women surrounding me, dropped my arm from his shoulders. “You don’t exaggerate.”
One giggled and linked her arm in mine and looked at me adoringly. I didn’t ask her name; I probably wouldn’t remember it by the end of the evening anyway.
“My biggest challenge is to keep them out of Pharaoh’s sight so he won’t snatch them for himself,” El–ram said.
“And deny me their company.” I laughed.
He nudged me with his elbow. “See that woman over there, talking to Pere, overseer of your father’s treasury?”
“The one with golden hair?”
“Maatkare. She’s yours tonight.”
She was a beauty, legs long, hair thick and shining, dress nearly sheer, bedecked with much jewelry. Dress and jewelry given her by El–ram in my name if past parties were any indication.
“You’ve chosen well, El–ram. As always.”
“I could make you forget about her in an instant,” one of the women gathered around me pouted.
“I just may let you try,” I said suggestively.
She grasped my bicep with both hands, leaned against me.
I spotted Oneney at the fringe of the crowd, captain of police on the west bank. I’d met him for the first time during the recent trial. He was speaking to Hednakht, both bending close, trying to make themselves heard over the commotion. I disengaged myself from the woman and sidled over to the two men and led them outside onto the landing atop the steps that served the tower rooms so we’d have a modicum of privacy. A number of couples were entwined on steps nearer the ground. They paid us no attention.
“Oneney was just filling me in on the trial of the tomb robbers,” Hednakht said. “He says you did well as chief judge, Majesty.”
“Six men and a woman,” I replied. “The case was straightforward. The men broke into the tomb of Ramesses the Great and stole a great quantity of gold and other items. No doubt about their guilt – they were caught with what they hadn’t been able to barter away. They offered such lame excuses. I almost let the woman go free. She’d obviously been drawn into the plot by the chief thief, Mesedptah. But she knew about the theft and hadn’t reported it. I had to make an example of her.”
“She sealed her own fate,” Hednakht concurred. “You were fortunate, Majesty. Cases that come before a vizier are rarely so straightforward.”
“Not as straightforward as I would have liked,” I replied. “Yes, I dealt with the men who robbed the tomb. But they’d already bartered most of what they’d stolen with men in Waset.” I addressed Oneney. “Any idea yet who the tomb robbers were in league with?”
“Plenty of suspects, Majesty. No evidence. Frankly, as long as the men from the Amen Division you’ve set to patrolling the Great Place and the riverbank day and night continue thieves will lay low. But eventually their commanders will order them to stop.”
“And thievery will resume. Who are the main suspects?”
“Ptahemheb, Waset’s mayor. He surely has spies on both banks of the river. If he isn’t involved directly he’s probably taking bribes to look the other way.”
“Who else?”
“Khaemwase. He’s Ta Set Maat’s gatekeeper. No one enters or exits the village without him recording their name. Or not recording their name, if someone’s bought his silence.”
“None of his underlings would check or challenge his scrolls, I presume.”
“I wouldn’t put it past Amennakht either,” Oneney said. “He’s the chief scribe in Ta Set Maat. He records comings and goings and work done. He’d know if men missed work.”
“He was the robbers’ chief accuser,” I told Hednakht.
“Perfect cover,” Oneney said. “Maybe the thieves wouldn’t share what they’d stolen with him. Or maybe he was retaliating for another reason. Mesedptah apparently slept with half the women in Ta Set Maat. Maybe he slept with Amennakht’s wife or daughter.”
“If I had a wife as distinctive as Mesedptah’s I wouldn’t have strayed,” I said, remembering. “That glorious red hair…”
I’d been with dozens of women who were far prettier than Mesedptah’s wife – Neset was her name – but none as compelling. I hadn’t noticed her during the trial until I’d called her forward to question her. After that I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off her. She was a bit taller than most women, slim, well–rounded in the right places, long of leg. But it was her dark eyes that had drawn me in, especially when they’d flashed fire. She’d clearly been embarrassed and humiliated by her husband but never once had she lost her pride or dignity. Most women would have dissolved into tears if their husband had publicly disrespected them the way Mesedptah had her, but Neset hadn’t so much as averted her eyes in shame. In fact, she’d hurled herself at him, beat him with her fists. She had strength and resolve. She was the most intriguing and fierce woman I’d ever encountered. I could only imagine how pleasurable it would be to try to tame her.
“That aside, it’s going to be hard to catch thieves in the future,” Oneney said.
“Soldiers have checked the seals on the doors of every tomb, both in the Great Place and Ta Set Neferu,” I told Hednakht. “The problem, of course, is the thieves excavated the tombs in the first place. They don’t need to go in the front door. They can dig their way in from anywhere. Fortunately, soldiers haven’t found any suspicious signs so far.”
“There you are!”
Binemwese and Peyes and Teynakhte staggered from the room and onto the landing, each with a woman hanging on his arm. Teynakhte was an officer in the Re Division; I’d had my eye on him for some time and had been pleased to discover him here at Djeme by chance a few days ago. All six appeared well on the way to being drunk. I’d given this party with the express intention of drawing the three men closer to me.
“Oneney, these are some of the army’s top officers. Men, this is Oneney, captain of police here on the west bank. You of course know Hednakht.”
“A pleasure,” Oneney said.
I addressed Peyes. “Tomorrow we’re off to Pi–Ramesses.”
He squeezed his woman tight.
She squealed.
“I’m going to miss Djeme, Majesty,” Peyes said ruefully.
Oneney and Hednakht returned to the party.
I signaled a serving girl just
inside the doorway. She brought me a cup of wine. I downed half of it. Now, to press my case with the three soldiers. “If I commanded Father’s army I’d have built an empire just like the third Thutmose’s already, men. Father would be rich from tribute. I wouldn’t have wasted his army like my brothers have, marching about for show.”
“I wish we’d been alive in Thutmose’s time too,” Peyes said. “Going to war every year for decades, slashing through Retenu and Setjet, marching all the way to Naharina. Dividing up booty and women.” He properly squeezed his again.
Good – I was winning him over. “When I gain control of the army the three of you will rarely see this valley – you’ll be helping me forge an empire greater than Thutmose’s.”
“I wish it was possible,” Peyes said fervently.
“Wishing doesn’t make anything possible,” I replied. “Only action.”
“And resources,” Binemwese added.
“Such as the treasure buried with the justified pharaohs?” I asked. “Maybe I should ally myself with tomb robbers, not execute them.”
“You can’t be serious, Majesty,” Peyes said, slightly horrified.
I smiled. “Of course not.” Yet, an interesting idea. If Father wouldn’t let me use his army, why not put together one of my own?
Binemwese beckoned another very pretty young woman just inside the door. She came outside and joined us.
“Majesty, have you met my half–sister, Heket?” he asked. “She’s one of your father’s concubines.”
“I haven’t had the pleasure.”
Her skin was considerably lighter than the usual Nehesyuian’s – her mother likely came from north of the cataract. She was long–legged and shiny–eyed and well rounded, her dark hair falling halfway down her back. She wore an opaque white dress and was draped in jewels. I guessed her to be about sixteen.
Heket smiled archly. “All of us in the harem know about you, Majesty.”
The Gardener and the Assassin Page 10