Thutmose III
The three humans stood with puzzled and embarrassed expressions on their faces. Setne, prince of Egypt and son of Ramesses II, wasn’t sure if he should admit that his eyes were looking at a snaked-headed woman.
Hermes Trismegistus, travelling Greek scholar, was baffled that such a creature existed. How could it see properly with its eyes on the sides of its head? How did it speak clearly with no lips? How did it eat with only fangs and no molars? What did it eat and did it swallow them whole, and therefore how did the human stomach digest a whole animal?
Sauda, the high priest of Egypt and expert seducer, was puzzled that the guardian of the Necropolis stopped her, the high priest of all people, and embarrassed because she was going to have to reveal a crack in the veneer of her personality to the two men she was working her charms on. Meretseger, a minor deity, was impervious to being charmed and flattered and it would take the authority of office to brow-beat the god into doing as Sauda wanted.
Sauda: “Official religious business, Meretseger. Remove yourself.”
A tongue slipped from the snake-like head. It was thick and bulbous like a human tongue, but still forked at the end. Rather than the quick air-tasting of a snake’s fast movements, her tongue slathered across her lower, fangless, jaw.
Meretseger: “What religious business?”
Sauda: “You question the high priest?”
The human eyes of the god were upon either side of its head and seemed far more creepy than if they had been a snake’s. They swivelled to look at the Nubian.
Meretseger: “Why shouldn’t I?”
Sauda: “Because I am the leader of that religion and you must obey the religious doctrine that we, humans, decide.”
Meretseger: “Maybe is true. But you have not told me the religious business, only that it is religious business. Just because you say this is true, does not mean it is true.”
Sauda: “So now I am a liar?”
Meretseger: “You are many things, high priest. Liar is tip of iceberg.”
Setne leaned to Hermes.
Setne: “What’s an iceberg?”
Hermes: “A big lump of ice in the ocean.”
Setne paused.
Setne: “What’s ice?”
Sauda: “Would you attack the high priest?”
Meretseger stood silent and still. Her stillness was unnatural. It was as though she had just turned to stone. No breath, no twitches.
Sauda: “Exactly. So we’ll be on our way.”
Sauda started off, but when Hermes and Setne began after her, Meretseger whacked them both, in a single strike, and floored them.
With a face full of sand;
Hermes: “That was… entirely… unnecessary.”
Setne: “Ever get the feeling, people just don’t like us?”
Meretseger: “She is high priest. You are not.”
Setne managed to get into a kneeling position, though was sore and groggy.
Setne: “I’ll have you know—”
He got a whack to the face and was instantly knocked out.
Sauda: “You stupid, snake-headed cretin!”
Hermes: “You just struck a prince! I am no expert on the subject, but I do believe that he holds a place in your religious dogma!”
Meretseger was still and silent for a moment but she then stepped back and lowered her head in defeat.
Meretseger: “Then I am mistaken. I allow passage.”
Sauda: “After you knocked him out. Nice job, guardian.”
Meretseger hissed at Sauda and Hermes got the impression that all of this was on account of a personal rivalry between the two women. He wondered if he and Setne would have had an easier time without Sauda or even worse time of it.
Hermes: “That was a fierce whack to his head. I think there’s blood.”
Sauda: “I wonder what will happen to you if he dies.”
The guardian remained stoic but said;
Meretseger: “You will fix him.”
Sauda: “Oh, will I?”
Hermes looked up at her.
Hermes: “Can you?”
Sauda: “I have been known to… dabble in magic.”
Meretseger: “Kek! Dabble! See? Tip of iceberg.”
Sauda: “You just injured a prince of Egypt. You don’t get to cast judgements right now.”
Sauda knelt in the sand and put her hands upon Setne.
Sauda: “I don’t do much healing magic, honestly. I’m not sure I’ll be much good at it.”
Hermes: “Your compassion will see you through.”
Sauda: “Uh… yes. My compassion…”
While there are many forms that magic practice can take, and the ways to manifest magic vary too, the most common is through channelling aether through the body. The body acts as both a conduit and a catalyst to turn that aether into the magic spell required. With practice, spells can be done with the flick or a wrist or a snap of the fingers. With less training or skill, more is required to produce the same affect, such as gestures or vocalisation. Some find magical aids, such as wands or staves, to be an affective substitute, particularly for very advanced spellcasting. Sauda could kill a man with barely a stray thought, but healing someone needed more effort from her. Physical contact and a few magical mutterings of ancient conjuring languages.
As the aether flowed through her and into her hands, the body of the prince pulsed and a sharp shock struck Sauda. It was a kind of rebound of magic that sent the energy back into Sauda. The healing warmth, however, was merged with fleeting memories, but they were not her own. They were his.
She remembered working in the workshop; carefully cleaning ancient statues, piecing together pottery of lost dynasties, trying to understand artefacts of lost civilisations. She tasted the blended wine imported from Greece. She admired the exotic Chinese silk scarf. She gazed at the desert with wistful thoughts of who may have preceded her in those lands.
Then she came back to her own mind.
Hermes: “Are you alright?”
Sauda: “I’m fine. Just a pang of feedback. A hiccough in the magic spellwork.”
But her mind was wavering. It was odd to be someone else, even just for a moment, and it was as though she knew this man. She knew how he thought, she knew what he felt.
She knew what affect her seductions had on people, she saw how they worked from an external viewpoint. But t was an incredibly bizarre experience to feel that attraction herself. Sauda being turned on by Sauda. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was disturbing.
Hermes: “Are you sure you’re alrght?”
Sauda jerked her head up, realising she had drifted off.
Sauda: “Yes. I’m fine. Just… he’ll be okay now.”
Hermes: “He’s not moving. Aren’t we supposed to breathe into his mouth to wake him up?”
Sauda: “What?”
Hermes: “I read about it in a medical text.”
Sauda: “You want to breathe into his mouth?”
Hermes: “Or perhaps you should?”
Sauda felt heat rise inside her throat. It was weird for her to be embarrassed over such an innocuous thing as breathing into someone’s mouth. She had done a lot worse with her mouth that that. Yet, this embarrassment and trepidation was almost palpable in her mouth at the anticipation.
She realised that feedback had clearly done something to her.
Hermes drew a breath.
Hermes: “Very well! I shall administer the kiss of life!”
He started to bend down, his beard falling onto the prone form of Setne. But Sauda stopped him.
Sauda: “I will do it. I might be able to channel healing energy through my kiss—breath!”
Hermes retired and Sauda moved close. She paused. Then put her lips onto his. Through the glee that the nerves of her lips lavished in at the connection, she pushed aether through her body as magic and out of her mouth. It was a tingling warmth that only made the chemical, physical reaction more intense.
Setne snapped awake.
Setne: “AAAH!”
Sauda practically faceplanted into the sand as Setne scrambled away.
Hermes: “Are you okay!?”
Setne: “Why is Sauda kissing me!?”
Sauda swallowed and tried to not be insulted by Setne’s horror.
Hermes: “She was breathing air into your lungs to awaken you!”
Setne glared at Hermes.
Setne: “Why didn’t you do it!?”
Hermes was a little surprised. He wasn’t a man interested in sex or relationships so much, but he did know the difference between an old man and a beautiful young woman.
Hermes: “You want me to kiss you?”
Setne leaned in closer. Hermes moved back slightly. He knew there were a good number of scholarly men in Greece that would have been very happy with this turn of events, but Hermes was not one of them.
Setne: “She probably has poisonous lipstick!”
Hermes then rolled his eyes.
Hermes: “She just saved your life, prince! Perhaps a little gratitude?”
Setne blinked, then looked at Sauda.
Setne: “You did?”
Sauda: “What have I done to make this such a surprise?”
Setne: “Well, it’s just that… my father says…”
Sauda got up and dusted down her knees. Usually she would have had plenty to say on the subject of Setne’s father, but she didn’t want to keep talking to him. She wanted to not even look at him. Instead, she looked at the constant thorn in her side.
Sauda: “I wonder if deities can be demoted.”
Meretseger: “Never!”
Sauda: “I could make you the deity of mouldy olives.”
Meretseger: “I will not!”
Sauda: “The deity of smelly sandals.”
Meretseger was still as a statue again.
Sauda: “God of lint found in old jeans pockets.”
Setne: “How about the god of hamster toenails?”
Sauda: “God of week-old dishwater.”
Setne: “God of misspelt words.”
Sauda: “God of lava lamps.”
Setne: “God of broken monitor pixels.”
Sauda: “God of diarrhoea after spicy curry.”
Setne: “That one. Definitely that one.”
Hermes: “I am not even sure I understood half of what you are both saying, but surely our friend can be forgiven? She is merely trying to protect this sacred place.”
Meretseger: “Forgive Meretseger!”
She was looking at Setne, specifically, not Sauda.
Setne: “Well, okay. Luckily Sauda was here to fix me up.”
Sauda: “Thank me, Meretseger.”
The god’s mouth clamped shut, but she did not freeze up again, as her hands tightened on her staff in anger. Sauda, with a sickly-sweet smile, put her hand to her ear.
Sauda: “I didn’t hear you.”
Meretseger: “… thank you, high priest, for healing the prince.”
Sauda: “This, right now, is going to go down as one of my favourite moments ever.”
She turned to her new companions. Initially, she had intended to start pandering to Hermes again, but she caught sight of Setne and heat washed into her cheeks. It took her by surprise and she stammered.
Setne: “Are you okay?”
Sauda: “… no.”
Hermes: “What is wrong, lady Sauda? Do you need water, perhaps?”
Sauda: “Water? Yes. Maybe.”
This was going to get annoying very quickly. She was tempted to leave, and put as much distance between her and this prince as possible, but then she wouldn’t find out what they were up to. And that nagging desire to get her hands on whatever item they wanted was too overpowering. Any opportunity to increase her own power had to be taken.
Sauda: “Where are we going? I forgot.”
Hermes: “We’re looking for the tomb of Hatshepsut.”
Sauda: “Yes, yes. Okay. This way. I am intimately familiar with the necropolis. I have arranged construction on many tombs. Including yours, prince.”
Setne: “You did? I hope I have a tomb with a view.”
Sauda: “I’ll try to make sure the patch of earth you get buried in is nice to look at then.”
Setne: “Considerate. Thank you.”
Sauda: “Just be careful you don’t die before your brothers, or one of them might usurp yours.”
Hermes: “Are you making more jokes?”
Setne: “She’s being serious on that one. Lots of rulers will usurp tombs intended for others all of the time.”
Hermes: “That seems… callous. Barbaric even.”
Sauda: “I apologise Egypt doesn’t live up to the high standards of the cultured Greeks!”
Sauda caught herself. That was a nasty, spiteful tone she used by mistake. She was not clear of mind right now. She spun on her heels to give Hermes a wide smile.
Sauda: “Perhaps we can learn some lessons from yourself and other refined dignitaries that visit us.”
Setne: “Not too soon, I hope! I was planning on stealing my older brother’s tomb!”
Hermes: “I hope you are joking again!”
Setne glanced at Sauda, who shrugged.
Setne: “Yes. Yes I was joking…”
Hermes: “Let’s hope that this long dead pharaoh wasn’t also misplaced.”
Sauda: “She wasn’t. You don’t get to usurp a pharaoh as powerful as Hatshepsut was!”
Hermes: “I am not overly familiar with this pharaoh. In truth, I had heard few women could become pharaoh. In my own lands, women are expected to… do other things. Generally.”
Sauda: “When her husband died, his son, by his second wife, was just two years old. Hatshepsut became pharaoh in his stead. Egypt was strong, powerful and prosperous during her time. Something that future pharaohs would not like.”
Hermes: “What do you mean?”
1450BC.
The air of Canaan stank of filth and refuse, mixed with the sharp tang of fresh blood. The sea of corpses lay on the hard ground, on which only the ravens and vultures now grazed.
The strong walls of Jaffa stood undisturbed, save splashes of gore against the stonework.
General Djehuty: “My pharaoh, perhaps we should retire and regroup?”
Thutmose III: “No. I can salvage this.”
General Djehuty: “But—”
Meryet: “Are you questioning your king, DJ Hooty?”
The general frowned at the pharaoh’s wife.
General Djehuty: “Djehuty.”
Meryet: “DJ Hooty.”
Thutmose III: “General, how many battles have I won?”
DJ Hooty: “More than any pharaoh in history.”
Thutmose III: “And how many have I lost?”
DJ Hooty: “Less than any pharaoh in history.”
Thutmose III: “I will not lose here, general. Not while I still have a plan!”
Thutmose III was an incredibly strong man who spent hours of his life in constant training. He didn’t just train to fight, however. Warfare was his passion. He studied battles, weapons, movements. He analysed how the human form worked, so that he could use that to improve his fighting techniques. He studied how weapons would kill a man, so that he could better use them. He studied great battles of history, but not just those celebrated in Egypt. He also studied the great losses of history, to discover the fatal flaws and how to utilise those flaws for himself.
In his experience, the greatest flaw was human error in judgement. And the greatest error was always hubris.
Thutmose III: “I want sacks and sacks of food to be brought here. I want beautifully crafted ornaments and clothing as offerings.”
DJ Hooty: “We will make a peace offering then?”
Thutmose III: “We will.”
DJ Hooty didn’t understand the order, but he complied nonetheless. He marched away from the king and his wife.
Meryet: “I am excited to see how this plan works out!”
The king smirked.
Thutmose III: “It will surprise you!”
Meryet: “They usually do.”
She was, essentially, her husband’s greatest fangirl. She had already started to have their son educated on his father’s battle prowess, in the hopes that he would turn out to be a great warrior king like Thutmose. She had only become his wife by happenstance. His first wife, his one-true-love, had died, unexpectedly, without even bearing a child. Meryet was given the opportunity to fill the void left in his heart, yet she knew she could never match that ghost. Instead, she tried to be his companion. So, she travelled around with him on his numerous campaigns.
Canaan did not agree with her. The food was terrible and the people stupid. The area consisted of several kingdoms, which had now unified in the face of the Egyptian war machine en route. The Kingdom of Moab in the east. The Kingdom of Edom to the south. The Kingdom of Philistine to the south-west. The Kingdom of Aram-Damascus to the north. And to the north-east, between Aram-Damascus and Moab was the Kingdom of Ammon. All of them were powerful kingdoms in their own right and were able to fend off attacks from both the northern Anatolian kingdoms, such as the Hittite Empire, and the still expanding Assyrian Empire to the east. The tribal peoples often raided the kingdoms at great risk to themselves. The kingdoms of Moab and Edom had particular hatred from the nomads of Madya to the south, where there were very few static settlements to take vengeance upon. The town of Midian had suffered a rebuke, but even there, there were so few people.
Now, however, they faced not only the full might of Egypt but the strategic brilliance of its co-ruler, Thutmose III. His ingenuity had brought the Canaanites into an alliance as they recognised the threat that this powerful king presented. Even the Phoenicians, to the north, loaned arms and troops to the Canaanites, recognising the potential future threat this Egyptian ruler could pose themselves.
The centre of Canaan, however, was split between two of the most influential of Canaan’s kingdoms; the Kingdom of Judah and the Kingdom of Israel. Along the Israeli shoreline, against the Mediterranean, the Egyptian ships had come up upon the shore. The new strategy of Thutmose was to make smaller ships that could be carried onto the land by marine troops; fighters of both land and sea. They had come upon the city of Jaffa suddenly and took the rulers by surprise. The city, however, had strong walls and had managed to repel the African invaders.
Meryet: “Once you have conquered these lands, what is next, my husband? You have already taken much of Nubia, pushing them back into the lands of Ethiopia. Now you will conquer Canaan. Whatever will you do next?”
Thutmose III: “There are great and powerful kingdoms beyond Canaan. From here, I can stage an attack on whichever of those empires I wish. I believe I will cross the Euphrates and begin with the Assyrian Empire. It is old and stagnant. It expands, but its rulers are deluded and soft. That is where I shall begin.”
Meryet: “A worthy foe. But…”
Thutmose rose his eyebrow at his wife. He had always listened to what she had to say. She was smart and eager and he appreciated being able to discuss important matters with someone of intelligence that wasn’t also a general. Only his aunt could compare to Meryet, but he couldn’t have sex with his aunt. That made Meryet a better alternative.
Meryet: “Perhaps you should consider the enemy closer to home? The enemy that stymies your own glory?”
Thusmose’s face at once turned to a cold mask and Meryet felt a cold tingle along the back of her neck. She instantly realised she had made a terrible mistake.
Thutmose III: “I will only tell you this once, Meryet.”
He looked at her with a hard stare.
Thutmose III: “Never think to utter treason against my aunt again. It is by her grace and guidance that I see women as deserving equal position as men and why I take your wisdom into my council rather than dismiss you. You, and future generations of women, owe much to the authority of that woman you would scheme against. She is nothing short of the greatest pharaoh who ever lived and warrants your devotion. I might conquer the lands, but she conquered the cultures further than I could ever reach. I do not want to hear another word against her. I hope that is clear?”
Meryet dared not even speak but just nodded quickly.
Thutmose III: “Thank you. I know you are trying to help my prestige, but I assure you that I can raise that without destroying everything that my aunt has done.”
Meryet: “I just wanted to help you and our son. I‘m sorry.”
Thutmose III: “If Amenhotep wants glory, he must earn his own, not usurp my aunt’s.”
DJ Hooty: “Pharaoh, the tribute is ready.”
Thutmose III: “Good. Now, empty the sacks…”
The year had reached the late months, hitting the end of Autumn and just preparing for Winter. 1246BC, Moses and his gang were finally approaching the lands of Canaan; the homelands of the Hebrew people who were taken as slaves for generations of Egyptian rule.
Balaam: “Sorry to tell you this, but they don’t want you.”
Miriam: “What?”
Balaam: “They don’t want you.”
Moses: “What does that mean?”
Balaam: “It means, they don’t want you.”
They all looked between each other.
Moses: “They don’t want who?”
Balaam: “Any of you. All of you. They said go back to Egypt.”
Miriam: “They can’t do that! Canaan is our home!”
Balaam: “They don’t agree. The king of Moab really doesn’t like you. With the sudden death of the pharaoh, they now think they’ve all got a shot at independence to boot. Things are about to get ugly there. Maybe, I mean, it’s not my business, but maybe you should just go somewhere else?”
Moses: “No. Yahweh made it clear at Mount Sinai. We go to Canaan.”
Hermes Trismegistus, travelling Greek scholar, was baffled that such a creature existed. How could it see properly with its eyes on the sides of its head? How did it speak clearly with no lips? How did it eat with only fangs and no molars? What did it eat and did it swallow them whole, and therefore how did the human stomach digest a whole animal?
Sauda, the high priest of Egypt and expert seducer, was puzzled that the guardian of the Necropolis stopped her, the high priest of all people, and embarrassed because she was going to have to reveal a crack in the veneer of her personality to the two men she was working her charms on. Meretseger, a minor deity, was impervious to being charmed and flattered and it would take the authority of office to brow-beat the god into doing as Sauda wanted.
Sauda: “Official religious business, Meretseger. Remove yourself.”
A tongue slipped from the snake-like head. It was thick and bulbous like a human tongue, but still forked at the end. Rather than the quick air-tasting of a snake’s fast movements, her tongue slathered across her lower, fangless, jaw.
Meretseger: “What religious business?”
Sauda: “You question the high priest?”
The human eyes of the god were upon either side of its head and seemed far more creepy than if they had been a snake’s. They swivelled to look at the Nubian.
Meretseger: “Why shouldn’t I?”
Sauda: “Because I am the leader of that religion and you must obey the religious doctrine that we, humans, decide.”
Meretseger: “Maybe is true. But you have not told me the religious business, only that it is religious business. Just because you say this is true, does not mean it is true.”
Sauda: “So now I am a liar?”
Meretseger: “You are many things, high priest. Liar is tip of iceberg.”
Setne leaned to Hermes.
Setne: “What’s an iceberg?”
Hermes: “A big lump of ice in the ocean.”
Setne paused.
Setne: “What’s ice?”
Sauda: “Would you attack the high priest?”
Meretseger stood silent and still. Her stillness was unnatural. It was as though she had just turned to stone. No breath, no twitches.
Sauda: “Exactly. So we’ll be on our way.”
Sauda started off, but when Hermes and Setne began after her, Meretseger whacked them both, in a single strike, and floored them.
With a face full of sand;
Hermes: “That was… entirely… unnecessary.”
Setne: “Ever get the feeling, people just don’t like us?”
Meretseger: “She is high priest. You are not.”
Setne managed to get into a kneeling position, though was sore and groggy.
Setne: “I’ll have you know—”
He got a whack to the face and was instantly knocked out.
Sauda: “You stupid, snake-headed cretin!”
Hermes: “You just struck a prince! I am no expert on the subject, but I do believe that he holds a place in your religious dogma!”
Meretseger was still and silent for a moment but she then stepped back and lowered her head in defeat.
Meretseger: “Then I am mistaken. I allow passage.”
Sauda: “After you knocked him out. Nice job, guardian.”
Meretseger hissed at Sauda and Hermes got the impression that all of this was on account of a personal rivalry between the two women. He wondered if he and Setne would have had an easier time without Sauda or even worse time of it.
Hermes: “That was a fierce whack to his head. I think there’s blood.”
Sauda: “I wonder what will happen to you if he dies.”
The guardian remained stoic but said;
Meretseger: “You will fix him.”
Sauda: “Oh, will I?”
Hermes looked up at her.
Hermes: “Can you?”
Sauda: “I have been known to… dabble in magic.”
Meretseger: “Kek! Dabble! See? Tip of iceberg.”
Sauda: “You just injured a prince of Egypt. You don’t get to cast judgements right now.”
Sauda knelt in the sand and put her hands upon Setne.
Sauda: “I don’t do much healing magic, honestly. I’m not sure I’ll be much good at it.”
Hermes: “Your compassion will see you through.”
Sauda: “Uh… yes. My compassion…”
While there are many forms that magic practice can take, and the ways to manifest magic vary too, the most common is through channelling aether through the body. The body acts as both a conduit and a catalyst to turn that aether into the magic spell required. With practice, spells can be done with the flick or a wrist or a snap of the fingers. With less training or skill, more is required to produce the same affect, such as gestures or vocalisation. Some find magical aids, such as wands or staves, to be an affective substitute, particularly for very advanced spellcasting. Sauda could kill a man with barely a stray thought, but healing someone needed more effort from her. Physical contact and a few magical mutterings of ancient conjuring languages.
As the aether flowed through her and into her hands, the body of the prince pulsed and a sharp shock struck Sauda. It was a kind of rebound of magic that sent the energy back into Sauda. The healing warmth, however, was merged with fleeting memories, but they were not her own. They were his.
She remembered working in the workshop; carefully cleaning ancient statues, piecing together pottery of lost dynasties, trying to understand artefacts of lost civilisations. She tasted the blended wine imported from Greece. She admired the exotic Chinese silk scarf. She gazed at the desert with wistful thoughts of who may have preceded her in those lands.
Then she came back to her own mind.
Hermes: “Are you alright?”
Sauda: “I’m fine. Just a pang of feedback. A hiccough in the magic spellwork.”
But her mind was wavering. It was odd to be someone else, even just for a moment, and it was as though she knew this man. She knew how he thought, she knew what he felt.
She knew what affect her seductions had on people, she saw how they worked from an external viewpoint. But t was an incredibly bizarre experience to feel that attraction herself. Sauda being turned on by Sauda. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was disturbing.
Hermes: “Are you sure you’re alrght?”
Sauda jerked her head up, realising she had drifted off.
Sauda: “Yes. I’m fine. Just… he’ll be okay now.”
Hermes: “He’s not moving. Aren’t we supposed to breathe into his mouth to wake him up?”
Sauda: “What?”
Hermes: “I read about it in a medical text.”
Sauda: “You want to breathe into his mouth?”
Hermes: “Or perhaps you should?”
Sauda felt heat rise inside her throat. It was weird for her to be embarrassed over such an innocuous thing as breathing into someone’s mouth. She had done a lot worse with her mouth that that. Yet, this embarrassment and trepidation was almost palpable in her mouth at the anticipation.
She realised that feedback had clearly done something to her.
Hermes drew a breath.
Hermes: “Very well! I shall administer the kiss of life!”
He started to bend down, his beard falling onto the prone form of Setne. But Sauda stopped him.
Sauda: “I will do it. I might be able to channel healing energy through my kiss—breath!”
Hermes retired and Sauda moved close. She paused. Then put her lips onto his. Through the glee that the nerves of her lips lavished in at the connection, she pushed aether through her body as magic and out of her mouth. It was a tingling warmth that only made the chemical, physical reaction more intense.
Setne snapped awake.
Setne: “AAAH!”
Sauda practically faceplanted into the sand as Setne scrambled away.
Hermes: “Are you okay!?”
Setne: “Why is Sauda kissing me!?”
Sauda swallowed and tried to not be insulted by Setne’s horror.
Hermes: “She was breathing air into your lungs to awaken you!”
Setne glared at Hermes.
Setne: “Why didn’t you do it!?”
Hermes was a little surprised. He wasn’t a man interested in sex or relationships so much, but he did know the difference between an old man and a beautiful young woman.
Hermes: “You want me to kiss you?”
Setne leaned in closer. Hermes moved back slightly. He knew there were a good number of scholarly men in Greece that would have been very happy with this turn of events, but Hermes was not one of them.
Setne: “She probably has poisonous lipstick!”
Hermes then rolled his eyes.
Hermes: “She just saved your life, prince! Perhaps a little gratitude?”
Setne blinked, then looked at Sauda.
Setne: “You did?”
Sauda: “What have I done to make this such a surprise?”
Setne: “Well, it’s just that… my father says…”
Sauda got up and dusted down her knees. Usually she would have had plenty to say on the subject of Setne’s father, but she didn’t want to keep talking to him. She wanted to not even look at him. Instead, she looked at the constant thorn in her side.
Sauda: “I wonder if deities can be demoted.”
Meretseger: “Never!”
Sauda: “I could make you the deity of mouldy olives.”
Meretseger: “I will not!”
Sauda: “The deity of smelly sandals.”
Meretseger was still as a statue again.
Sauda: “God of lint found in old jeans pockets.”
Setne: “How about the god of hamster toenails?”
Sauda: “God of week-old dishwater.”
Setne: “God of misspelt words.”
Sauda: “God of lava lamps.”
Setne: “God of broken monitor pixels.”
Sauda: “God of diarrhoea after spicy curry.”
Setne: “That one. Definitely that one.”
Hermes: “I am not even sure I understood half of what you are both saying, but surely our friend can be forgiven? She is merely trying to protect this sacred place.”
Meretseger: “Forgive Meretseger!”
She was looking at Setne, specifically, not Sauda.
Setne: “Well, okay. Luckily Sauda was here to fix me up.”
Sauda: “Thank me, Meretseger.”
The god’s mouth clamped shut, but she did not freeze up again, as her hands tightened on her staff in anger. Sauda, with a sickly-sweet smile, put her hand to her ear.
Sauda: “I didn’t hear you.”
Meretseger: “… thank you, high priest, for healing the prince.”
Sauda: “This, right now, is going to go down as one of my favourite moments ever.”
She turned to her new companions. Initially, she had intended to start pandering to Hermes again, but she caught sight of Setne and heat washed into her cheeks. It took her by surprise and she stammered.
Setne: “Are you okay?”
Sauda: “… no.”
Hermes: “What is wrong, lady Sauda? Do you need water, perhaps?”
Sauda: “Water? Yes. Maybe.”
This was going to get annoying very quickly. She was tempted to leave, and put as much distance between her and this prince as possible, but then she wouldn’t find out what they were up to. And that nagging desire to get her hands on whatever item they wanted was too overpowering. Any opportunity to increase her own power had to be taken.
Sauda: “Where are we going? I forgot.”
Hermes: “We’re looking for the tomb of Hatshepsut.”
Sauda: “Yes, yes. Okay. This way. I am intimately familiar with the necropolis. I have arranged construction on many tombs. Including yours, prince.”
Setne: “You did? I hope I have a tomb with a view.”
Sauda: “I’ll try to make sure the patch of earth you get buried in is nice to look at then.”
Setne: “Considerate. Thank you.”
Sauda: “Just be careful you don’t die before your brothers, or one of them might usurp yours.”
Hermes: “Are you making more jokes?”
Setne: “She’s being serious on that one. Lots of rulers will usurp tombs intended for others all of the time.”
Hermes: “That seems… callous. Barbaric even.”
Sauda: “I apologise Egypt doesn’t live up to the high standards of the cultured Greeks!”
Sauda caught herself. That was a nasty, spiteful tone she used by mistake. She was not clear of mind right now. She spun on her heels to give Hermes a wide smile.
Sauda: “Perhaps we can learn some lessons from yourself and other refined dignitaries that visit us.”
Setne: “Not too soon, I hope! I was planning on stealing my older brother’s tomb!”
Hermes: “I hope you are joking again!”
Setne glanced at Sauda, who shrugged.
Setne: “Yes. Yes I was joking…”
Hermes: “Let’s hope that this long dead pharaoh wasn’t also misplaced.”
Sauda: “She wasn’t. You don’t get to usurp a pharaoh as powerful as Hatshepsut was!”
Hermes: “I am not overly familiar with this pharaoh. In truth, I had heard few women could become pharaoh. In my own lands, women are expected to… do other things. Generally.”
Sauda: “When her husband died, his son, by his second wife, was just two years old. Hatshepsut became pharaoh in his stead. Egypt was strong, powerful and prosperous during her time. Something that future pharaohs would not like.”
Hermes: “What do you mean?”
1450BC.
The air of Canaan stank of filth and refuse, mixed with the sharp tang of fresh blood. The sea of corpses lay on the hard ground, on which only the ravens and vultures now grazed.
The strong walls of Jaffa stood undisturbed, save splashes of gore against the stonework.
General Djehuty: “My pharaoh, perhaps we should retire and regroup?”
Thutmose III: “No. I can salvage this.”
General Djehuty: “But—”
Meryet: “Are you questioning your king, DJ Hooty?”
The general frowned at the pharaoh’s wife.
General Djehuty: “Djehuty.”
Meryet: “DJ Hooty.”
Thutmose III: “General, how many battles have I won?”
DJ Hooty: “More than any pharaoh in history.”
Thutmose III: “And how many have I lost?”
DJ Hooty: “Less than any pharaoh in history.”
Thutmose III: “I will not lose here, general. Not while I still have a plan!”
Thutmose III was an incredibly strong man who spent hours of his life in constant training. He didn’t just train to fight, however. Warfare was his passion. He studied battles, weapons, movements. He analysed how the human form worked, so that he could use that to improve his fighting techniques. He studied how weapons would kill a man, so that he could better use them. He studied great battles of history, but not just those celebrated in Egypt. He also studied the great losses of history, to discover the fatal flaws and how to utilise those flaws for himself.
In his experience, the greatest flaw was human error in judgement. And the greatest error was always hubris.
Thutmose III: “I want sacks and sacks of food to be brought here. I want beautifully crafted ornaments and clothing as offerings.”
DJ Hooty: “We will make a peace offering then?”
Thutmose III: “We will.”
DJ Hooty didn’t understand the order, but he complied nonetheless. He marched away from the king and his wife.
Meryet: “I am excited to see how this plan works out!”
The king smirked.
Thutmose III: “It will surprise you!”
Meryet: “They usually do.”
She was, essentially, her husband’s greatest fangirl. She had already started to have their son educated on his father’s battle prowess, in the hopes that he would turn out to be a great warrior king like Thutmose. She had only become his wife by happenstance. His first wife, his one-true-love, had died, unexpectedly, without even bearing a child. Meryet was given the opportunity to fill the void left in his heart, yet she knew she could never match that ghost. Instead, she tried to be his companion. So, she travelled around with him on his numerous campaigns.
Canaan did not agree with her. The food was terrible and the people stupid. The area consisted of several kingdoms, which had now unified in the face of the Egyptian war machine en route. The Kingdom of Moab in the east. The Kingdom of Edom to the south. The Kingdom of Philistine to the south-west. The Kingdom of Aram-Damascus to the north. And to the north-east, between Aram-Damascus and Moab was the Kingdom of Ammon. All of them were powerful kingdoms in their own right and were able to fend off attacks from both the northern Anatolian kingdoms, such as the Hittite Empire, and the still expanding Assyrian Empire to the east. The tribal peoples often raided the kingdoms at great risk to themselves. The kingdoms of Moab and Edom had particular hatred from the nomads of Madya to the south, where there were very few static settlements to take vengeance upon. The town of Midian had suffered a rebuke, but even there, there were so few people.
Now, however, they faced not only the full might of Egypt but the strategic brilliance of its co-ruler, Thutmose III. His ingenuity had brought the Canaanites into an alliance as they recognised the threat that this powerful king presented. Even the Phoenicians, to the north, loaned arms and troops to the Canaanites, recognising the potential future threat this Egyptian ruler could pose themselves.
The centre of Canaan, however, was split between two of the most influential of Canaan’s kingdoms; the Kingdom of Judah and the Kingdom of Israel. Along the Israeli shoreline, against the Mediterranean, the Egyptian ships had come up upon the shore. The new strategy of Thutmose was to make smaller ships that could be carried onto the land by marine troops; fighters of both land and sea. They had come upon the city of Jaffa suddenly and took the rulers by surprise. The city, however, had strong walls and had managed to repel the African invaders.
Meryet: “Once you have conquered these lands, what is next, my husband? You have already taken much of Nubia, pushing them back into the lands of Ethiopia. Now you will conquer Canaan. Whatever will you do next?”
Thutmose III: “There are great and powerful kingdoms beyond Canaan. From here, I can stage an attack on whichever of those empires I wish. I believe I will cross the Euphrates and begin with the Assyrian Empire. It is old and stagnant. It expands, but its rulers are deluded and soft. That is where I shall begin.”
Meryet: “A worthy foe. But…”
Thutmose rose his eyebrow at his wife. He had always listened to what she had to say. She was smart and eager and he appreciated being able to discuss important matters with someone of intelligence that wasn’t also a general. Only his aunt could compare to Meryet, but he couldn’t have sex with his aunt. That made Meryet a better alternative.
Meryet: “Perhaps you should consider the enemy closer to home? The enemy that stymies your own glory?”
Thusmose’s face at once turned to a cold mask and Meryet felt a cold tingle along the back of her neck. She instantly realised she had made a terrible mistake.
Thutmose III: “I will only tell you this once, Meryet.”
He looked at her with a hard stare.
Thutmose III: “Never think to utter treason against my aunt again. It is by her grace and guidance that I see women as deserving equal position as men and why I take your wisdom into my council rather than dismiss you. You, and future generations of women, owe much to the authority of that woman you would scheme against. She is nothing short of the greatest pharaoh who ever lived and warrants your devotion. I might conquer the lands, but she conquered the cultures further than I could ever reach. I do not want to hear another word against her. I hope that is clear?”
Meryet dared not even speak but just nodded quickly.
Thutmose III: “Thank you. I know you are trying to help my prestige, but I assure you that I can raise that without destroying everything that my aunt has done.”
Meryet: “I just wanted to help you and our son. I‘m sorry.”
Thutmose III: “If Amenhotep wants glory, he must earn his own, not usurp my aunt’s.”
DJ Hooty: “Pharaoh, the tribute is ready.”
Thutmose III: “Good. Now, empty the sacks…”
The year had reached the late months, hitting the end of Autumn and just preparing for Winter. 1246BC, Moses and his gang were finally approaching the lands of Canaan; the homelands of the Hebrew people who were taken as slaves for generations of Egyptian rule.
Balaam: “Sorry to tell you this, but they don’t want you.”
Miriam: “What?”
Balaam: “They don’t want you.”
Moses: “What does that mean?”
Balaam: “It means, they don’t want you.”
They all looked between each other.
Moses: “They don’t want who?”
Balaam: “Any of you. All of you. They said go back to Egypt.”
Miriam: “They can’t do that! Canaan is our home!”
Balaam: “They don’t agree. The king of Moab really doesn’t like you. With the sudden death of the pharaoh, they now think they’ve all got a shot at independence to boot. Things are about to get ugly there. Maybe, I mean, it’s not my business, but maybe you should just go somewhere else?”
Moses: “No. Yahweh made it clear at Mount Sinai. We go to Canaan.”