The Egyptian Royals Collection (99 page)

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Authors: Michelle Moran

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BOOK: The Egyptian Royals Collection
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THE MARCH
was as long as General Anhuri had predicted in the Audience Chamber, and Iset rode for a month in her covered litter, borne on the shoulders of eight men. She never dared to complain about the oppressive heat or lack of places to bathe. When Ramessu cried, we could hear her shouting at him to be quiet, that if he didn’t behave she would leave him by the side of the road.

The poor thing will learn to hate her,
I thought.
She should allow him to ride with Amunher and Prehir.
I looked across at the second litter, and from the squeals of delight behind the linen I imagined that my sons thought this was a great adventure. Merit rode with them, and I could see her shadow as she moved back and forth, keeping them from trouble. Although there was room for me in the litter too, I steered my own chariot next to Asha and Ramesses. And at night, when the army made camp where it could, Ramesses crept into my pavilion and we listened as Merit told stories of the gods in the pavilion next to ours. Some nights we could hear that Amunher and Prehir had gone to sleep at once. But most of the time, they had slept throughout the day and were no longer interested in settling down. Then Ramesses would call them over to us, and the three of them would crawl among the cushions, delighting in each other, while I stayed up translating messages our spies had captured.

“Emperor Muwatallis knows nothing of this march,” I said with certainty. We had passed through Canaan and traveled down toward the Bekaa Valley. We were steadily approaching Kadesh from the south, and I held up the latest scroll. “He is sending missives home that his wives must be there to greet him, and that a victory feast should be prepared for Epiphi. He has no idea we are coming. Though I don’t know about this.” I pointed to a line of ancient cuneiform. It was written in a Hittite that only priests used. I squinted, trying to recall what I had learned from Paser. “It’s something about the woods of Labwi.” I hesitated. “Something about … woodsmen perhaps?”

“Scouts!” Ramesses shouted, frightening Amunher and Prehir. They held their breaths to see if he was shouting at them, and when he failed to look in their direction, they carried on playing. “There will be scouts in the woods of Labwi!” he exclaimed.

I continued to study the scroll. “Yes.” I nodded quickly. “That must be it.” Though I had never seen some of the words before,
Labwi
and
woodsmen
were clear enough.

“Tomorrow, we will pass through Labwi,” Ramesses said. “And whatever Hittite scouts they’ve left behind, we will encircle them to cut off any warning.” He smiled at me. “We are going to take back Kadesh before Muwatallis has a chance to sit down at his next feast!”

The four divisions of the army on foot were assembled the next morning. Twenty thousand men listened to their orders as the sun rose beyond the hills, gilding their helmets and reflecting from their swords. Seti had amassed ten thousand leather shields, stretched taut on strong wooden frames that could deflect even the strongest arrow point, and now, after a month’s march, they would finally be used.

“The divisions of Amun and Ra will make camp across the River Arnath on the highest point,” Ramesses instructed his generals. “Set and Ptah will remain at the base of the hill. We’ve intercepted a message that indicates that there will be Hittite spies in Labwi. When we reach the woods this evening, I want them captured!”

There was a nervous excitement as the divisions marched. We were nearing Kadesh, and when the camp passed through the cedar forests of Labwi, this nervousness only heightened. But there were no sightings of Hittites anywhere in the tall, flat-topped groves, and when the divisions of Amun and Ra made camp on the hill above Kadesh, there were murmurs of shock as the men looked below them. The walled city appeared completely silent, and the Hittite army seemed to have disappeared. Ramesses stood on the crest as the cool of evening settled over Kadesh, and Egypt’s generals stared out in amazement.

“Perhaps they have retreated,” Kofu suggested.

“An army of ten thousand men does not capture the most important city in the north only to abandon it a month later. Perhaps they’re hiding within the city,” Anhuri offered.

“Either way, we must send a scout,” Kofu said. “Even if the Hittites have already left the city, word of us will reach them and they’ll return in force. You can be sure of it.”

The four divisions of Egypt’s army waited for news around thousands of campfires that dotted the hillside and filled the air with the scent of burning timber. Some of the men played Senet and rolled knucklebones. But once the sun set there was a tense expectation among the soldiers; the silence of the city below was more disturbing than seeing any Hittite army. Around our fire, Iset was the first to break the uneasy quiet.

“Where can they be?” she demanded shrilly. “We have marched for a month! And now we’ve come and there isn’t any war!”

Anhuri smiled warily. “You will get your war. In one day or ten, the Hittites will return.”

The hood of Iset’s cloak fell back around her shoulders, revealing her exasperated look. “With how many men?”

Anhuri glanced behind him. There was a commotion in the camp, but he answered her quickly. “As many as we’ve brought from Egypt. Likely more.” He stood as a young boy came running toward him, dressed in the printed kilt of a messenger. At once, we were all on our feet.

“What is the news?”

The boy paused to catch his breath. “Nothing!” he cried. “The Hittites left two nights ago. They have installed their own governor in charge of the city, but the army is gone!”

Ramesses glanced between his generals, and all of them wore guarded expressions. “It could be a trap.”

But the messenger boy was confident. “It’s not a trap, Your Highness. I’ve been through the city. There’s not a curly beard or striped kilt among them. Only in the governor’s house …”


Two
days ago?” Anhuri challenged. Asha’s father was incredulous. “It’s too convenient,” he dismissed, and I wanted to agree with him. But the other generals wondered if perhaps the emperor was so confident of his conquest he felt no need to remain in Kadesh.

“It’s possible they waited a month to see if an army would come from Egypt by river, and when none came, they decamped,” Kofu suggested.

“We’ll wait,” Ramesses decided. “If there is no sign of their army by tomorrow evening, we’ll take back the city.”

The generals returned to their fires, and the young scout was given two gold deben for his trouble. But in my pavilion, Ramesses couldn’t sleep. I kissed his shoulders, then his chest, but I could see that he was in no mood for me to undress him.

“If the Hittites have truly left,” he said, “we can take Kadesh tomorrow evening before the Hittite army has a chance to return. We can shut the gates and defend the city from within. You will remain on this hill with the provisions. I have given the Master of the Guards, Ibenre, instructions that only you may move this camp. If a division that doesn’t carry a banner of Amun, Ra, Ptah, or Set approaches this hill, I want you to leave for the south, for the city of Damascus.”

I placed my fingers on my lower lip, and gently, Ramesses brushed them away.

“There is nothing to fear. The gods are watching, and we shall be victorious.”

 

THERE WAS
whispering outside my pavilion. A dark shape moved against the moonlight, and Ramesses sat up with his hand on his sword.

“Your Highness!”

“It’s General Anhuri,” I said. I felt a selfish pleasure that he had known to look for Ramesses with me. Ramesses rushed to the opening and pulled aside the linen. Next to his guards, the general stood with Kofu and two bound prisoners.

“Two Hittite soldiers, Your Highness,” said Anhuri. “Found lurking in the hills beneath the camp.”

I dressed myself quickly and joined Ramesses outside. The spies had been bound with rope, and a large gash cut the taller man’s cheek. Both wore the long kilts of the Hittites, with their hair braided away from their faces.

“What story have they given you?” Ramesses demanded.

“They speak little Egyptian,” Kofu replied. “But the taller one says they deserted the army.”

“What are your names?”

“They call themselves Anittas and Teshub.” Anhuri raised his brows. “Whether those are their real names is anyone’s guess.”

Ramesses peered down into the faces of his captives, and even the tallest one only came to his chest. “Why would you leave Emperor Muwatallis?”

Both men shook with fear, but it was Teshub, the fatter one, who replied, “We understand very little Egyptian.”

“Then you may use the little Egyptian you have,” Ramesses roared, “and explain yourselves to me, or you will be explaining yourselves to Osiris!”

Teshub glanced in my direction, and his gaze lingered on me. “We left the army of Emperor Muwatallis,” he said quickly. “We did not want to fight for such a coward.”

Anhuri prodded the fat man with the edge of his sword. “What do you mean coward?”

“Emperor Muwatallis has fled!” Teshub said. “He heard that the great Pharaoh Ramesses was coming with an army that could fill the horizon!”

Ramesses looked at me, then at his generals. A wide grin spread across his face, and he stepped closer to the deserters. “Muwatallis heard that I was coming and fled? In which direction?” he asked eagerly.

Teshub pointed to the north.

“Aleppo?” Kofu demanded.

“Yes.” Teshub nodded swiftly. “To find more soldiers.”

Ramesses’s eyes glowed. “We will take Kadesh tomorrow!” he vowed. “I will lead Amun’s army north to the city before Muwatallis brings reinforcements. Instruct my men to get up. They are done sleeping tonight.”

“And the other divisions?” Kofu asked.

“They shall follow at first light.”

Even before the gray of dawn brightened the sky, the division of Amun assembled on the hill. They would reach the gates of Kadesh before nightfall, and I wondered how long it would be before the Hittite army returned. In the privacy of my pavilion, Ramesses encircled my waist with his arms. They had been bronzed by the harsh summer’s sun and were corded with muscle from his years of training. I felt them tighten protectively around me and wished they would never let go. But he still had to make his farewell to Iset, and to Merit, who was dressing our sons.

“Capturing the governor will be quick,” he said eagerly. “When Muwatallis returns, he will see that Kadesh has been retaken. Then Asha and the fifth division will appear! It’s over for him.”

“And what will stop him from taking this hill?”

“Because Muwatallis has fled north, Nefer! He will have to get by us first. You are well protected here.”

 

WE WATCHED
the Amun soldiers move out, and by afternoon, the men had disappeared and all we could see was a dusty marching column in the distance. Merit held tightly to Prehir, wiping away his tears as he gestured toward the horizon. But Amunher squirmed in my arms, feistier than his brother, and he didn’t shed any tears.

“He would crawl after Pharaoh if he could,” Merit remarked.

“He will be a little warrior. Won’t you, Amunher?”

“He will be a
crown prince,
” Merit said firmly. “As soon as this year has passed.”

“Rahotep would sooner give up his leopard robes and go naked than crown Amunher.”

“Then I hope he enjoys the cold,” Merit snapped.

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