A report reached me that the king was returning to Thebes after the epic clash between the Hittite and Egyptian armies at Qadesh. The battle was no accidental meeting of two combatants nor had there been a particular incident that sparked the conflict. In the way of young lions, both Ramesses and Muwatallis, the Hittite king, decided to unsheathe their claws and determine the threat of a territorial encroachment with armed might.
Egypt’s northern border was a flexible line defined more by influence than geography. Hatti’s southern border enjoyed the same elasticity, with the loyalty of the communities between the two empires a confusion of alliances, well nourished jealousies and discontent, amidst the perpetually uncomfortable need of those caught between the Egyptian anvil and the Hittite hammer to periodically look to the north and then to the south to see to whom they would show loyalty.
Seti had re-established Egyptian influence well into Canaan and Lebanon by main force, leaving many festering wounds in his wake. Ramesses own foray into central Syria in the fourth year of his reign returned limited territorial gains. Nonetheless, the campaign alerted Muwatallis that the new king in Egypt was not averse to flexing his military muscles but an Egyptian flea bite on the tail of the Hittite lion was not enough for him to strike out until the Amurrans, who occupied the coastal areas of Lebanon, switched their allegiance to Egypt. This defection cost Hatti tribute from one of her most wealthy allies and brought the Egyptian front line too close for comfort. The flea was now biting more frequently. Ramesses had become an irritant who needed to be squashed.
Muwatallis augmented his own well equipped army by calling up additional troops under the terms of his regional alliances. Without doubt, the petty rulers of these pustular blemishes on the hindquarters of the Hittite lion believed they could pick over the carcase of a broken kingdom and return to their foetid dung heaps laden with Egyptian booty.
Ramesses, aware of these developments through his network of well rewarded agents, moved more soldiers up to the Delta garrisons. Suitably fortified, he girded up his loins and began the long march north from the frontier fort at Tjel. At the core of his army, were the four heavily armed and finely trained divisions named after the gods Seth, Ptah, Amun and Re, reinforced by mercenaries drawn from the ranks of pirates who had settled in the islands off the Delta. A considerable baggage train, carrying military and domestic supplies, would be supplemented by friendly allies as the army advanced towards the enemy. The Egyptians progress was leisurely as they marched through convivial territory.
Badly off-guard and overly optimistic, Ramesses, having acquired a deceptive picture of the military situation from agents sent by the Hittite king, failed to verify what he had learned. Buoyed up by this misleading information, he impetuously crossed the Orontes River ,to the north of Qadesh, with only the Amun division in hand. Foolishly, he left the other three divisions well to the rear. The king, supremely confident and lulled into a naive sense of security, prepared to encamp when he received the alarming news that the Hittite army was to his immediate left and not, as he had been falsely advised, near Aleppo, some distance from his present position. Just as Ramesses began to appreciate the truly parlous nature of his situation, Muwatallis seized his chance and sent a striking force of chariots and infantry to attack the poorly protected king.
With the soldiers in the Amum division in a state of near panic, the king found himself heavily engaged. As his troops bent under a determined Hittite assault he and his personal bodyguard found themselves close pressed by the enemy. In graphic depictions inscribed on walls throughout the kingdom, it was later recorded, ‘The king found himself surrounded by 2,500 pairs of horse.’ His retreat was barred by the most fearsome of the enemy forces. In this precarious situation, Ramesses beseeched Amun,
‘Have I for nought dedicated to thee temples, and filled them with prisoners, and given thee all my substance and made the whole country pay tribute unto thee. I never stayed my hand from doing that which thou wished. I have built pylons and other edifices in stone, I have raised up to thee pillars which will last forever and I have brought obelisks for thee from Elephantine. I have bought stone for thee and I have made ships to sail on the seas and bring back the produce of foreign lands. Behold, Amun, I am in the midst of multitudes of men who have banded themselves together against me and I am alone and none is with me, for all my soldiers and charioteers have forsaken me. I cried out to them but no-one harkened to me. But thou, Amun are more to me than millions of warriors and hundreds of thousand of horse, the acts of hosts of men are as nothing and Amun is better than them all’.
Then, Amun stretched out his hand to the king and the god spoke thus,
‘Face to face with you, Ramesses, beloved of men, I am with you. It is I, your Father. My hand is in your own. I am with thee and I am better than hundreds of thousands of men united. I am the master of victory.’
Ramesses, in embrace with Amun, charged alone in his war chariot save for his charioteer. He raged at them like his father Montu, the Lord of Thebes, and having girded on his panoply of war, he mounted his chariot and engaged the enemy aggressively. He dashed into the midst of the enemy mass and, like the mighty god Seth, he hewed them down and slew them and cast their dead bodies headlong into the waters of the Orontes. ‘I was by myself for my soldiers and my horsemen had forsaken me and not one of them had been sufficiently bold to come to my assistance.’ Five thousand horses of the enemy were crushed before his horses and no man lifted his hand to oppose his onset, the enemy fell dead beneath his blows and when they had once fallen they never moved again.’
Eventually, allied soldiers from Amurra ‘smashed into the hosts of the vile fallen.’ The Hittites, just as they were on the point of entering pharaoh’s camp, were killed by the king’s entourage, and, not allowing any to escape, for their hearts were sure in the great strength of the pharaoh, for he was behind them like a mountain of copper and a wall of iron forever and ever.’
Struggling to their imperilled king, the other divisions finally joined the bloody affray. The advantage passed to the Egyptians, who forced the foe back across the Orontes. There was no victory for either side and losses to the combatants on both sides were heavy, with hundreds of dead and wounded littering the battlefield. It was a very near thing. Though his army remained largely intact, Muwatallis withdrew to lick his wounds as he had lost several family members and many allied leaders in the engagement. Night fell on an indecisive day of combat. Next morning, Ramesses lunged forward and attacked the Hittites in force but could not deal the enemy a final devastating blow.
A stalemate had been reached. Neither ruler was strong enough to beat the other and the allies of both were alarmed at the prospect of greater slaughter. Muwatallis saw the advantage in making an overture of peace, as he had lost two brothers in battle and was concerned about his hold on the Hittite throne, if defeated. Ramesses held a council of war with his generals, who urged him to pay heed to the Hittite proposal. Brief formalities were entered into and a cessation of hostilities rapidly agreed. The Egyptian army stood down and then retired to Pi-Ramess. The Hittite army remained at Qadesh for a short period before breaking camp and marching back to Hatti.
There was no booty or tribute. The supply wagons returned empty. The outcome was inconclusive and Ramesses was compelled to send his army back into Canaan, Lebanon and Syria time and again to put down uprisings by cities allied to the Hittites, until finally a treaty was drawn up between the kingdoms in the twenty-first year of his reign. As part of the agreement, the Hittite king offered the hand of his daughter, Ur-Maa-neferu-Ra, in marriage to Ramesses. In the fortieth year of his reign, Ramesses was to take yet another Hittite princess as his wife.
But I am getting ahead of myself again. Whilst Ramesses faced the perils of the battle field, his commissions kept me keenly engaged. Periodically, I travelled north to meet my regional overseers, and the annual voyage to Abu Simbel took on all the aspects of a vacation. I brought Ipi and our young children with me and Ashahebsed, his wife and children became warm friends. There, we could safely swim in the soothing river waters, free from the worry of attacks by crocodiles and hippopotami, eat informally and relax from the cares of my office. Ashahebsed and I were devoted to hunting gazelle, oryx and antelope, spending many happy hours ranging the desert dunes in pursuit of these worthy quarry.
I returned from one such trip in time to greet the king after he had re-garrisoned the army in the Delta forts following the campaign at Qadesh just before he returned to Thebes. Hearing heralds announcing his impending arrival, I left my office, crossed the river and found a vantage point atop some sandstone blocks destined for the Karnak temple.
The weather was perfect. The cobalt blue of the sky was reflected in the river which flowed sluggishly at that time of the year, its surface gleaming like oiled skin. The inundation was some months away and the land waxed lush with summer growth. Papyrus clumps, clustered thickly along the river banks, provided tranquil sanctuaries for wild fowl whilst sacred ibises waded in the shallow waters, intent on catching prey. Palm trees, burdened with clusters of fat ripening dates, complimented fruit trees hanging heavy with tangerines, pomegranates and stone fruit. To the west, the hills, golden in the rays of the morning sun, stood clearly etched in the clear morning air.
The day was proclaimed a public holiday and Thebans flocked to the river’s edge to greet their victorious king. Red and white pennants fluttered gaily from the electrum tipped poles set into the temple pylons and, for once, the air was free of the dusty haze that rose from thousands of workmen’s feet and mason’s chisels. With quiet amusement, I observed the impressive party of local dignitaries assembled at the king’s quay. The Governor of Thebes and his retinue mingled with a flock of temple priests led by the high priest. Nobles, heavily bewigged and wearing their whitest linen, preened like peacocks. A row of chariots, double banked and manned by charioteers, formed an honour guard. Ebony black stallions, coats gleaming in the sunlight from hours of grooming, snorted and pawed the ground in excitement.
Behind the chariots, stood ranks of Egyptian and Nubian bowmen and formations of lancers, their bronze tipped spears glittering. Flanking them, muscular axemen rested their deadly weapons on their broad shoulders. Massed infantry, battle standards held proudly aloft and resplendent in their polished leather helmets and tan kilts, waited impassively.
The royal flotilla approached with slow majesty. The barque carrying the king was in the van, driven forward by two banks of oarsmen. Their oars rose and fell to the sonorous cadence of the hortator’s wooden mallets - water dripping off the oars sparkling like shards of sun struck calcite. The barque’s slender stern post arched up in the form of a lotus blossom. The bow, which rose well out of the water, displayed beautiful inlaid bands of electrum and gold. Motionless under a pure white awning, the king sat enthroned, wearing his crown, the royal beard affixed to his chin and he held, in his crossed arms, the flail and crook, the symbols of his authority. Beside him, on a slightly smaller throne, sat Queen Nefertari, clothed in a leopard skin robe denoting her regal status. In a tented pavilion behind the queen, clustered young princes and princesses with their governesses. Behind the royal barque came the smaller, less ornate vessels carrying stores, furnishings and the impedimenta of the royal house in progress. Two fearsome war ships brought up the rear of the procession, their decks lined by members of the Royal Guard.
The king’s barque was expertly manoeuvred next to the quay, gangplanks placed on board and Ramesses rose from his throne. Soldiers, instantly obedient to their officer’s command, snapped to attention and pharaoh, followed by his queen, walked onto the quay. He stopped and spread his arms outwards with a smile of pure pleasure lighting his face. Cheering lustily, the exuberant crowd pressed forward and had to be restrained by guardsmen. The king greeted the dignitaries in order of rank, inclining his head towards the high priest and then his party mounted chariots and whisked away to the palace. Once the royal party had sped off, I climbed down from my vantage point to be met by a junior scribe from the vizier’s office.
“My compliments, Lord. I bear a message from the king to his architect. I am commanded to advise that Pharaoh Ramesses wishes you to attend him two days hence, three hours after Re has begun his passage across the heavens. The audience will be at the mortuary temple and you are enjoined to reserve the day at his pleasure. The king also commands I give you this.” He handed me a small wooden chest inlaid with ivory and ebony.
I thanked the messenger and bade him farewell. Upon opening the chest I found, nestled on a bed of blue linen, an exquisite scarab pendant carved from greywacke. Its wings were outspread and made of gold filigree with inlays of lapis lazuli, obsidian and carnelian. Surely, this was a piece of jewellery only a king could afford to commission. Under the scarab, lay a small piece of papyrus on which the king had written ‘To my trusted friend, Sennefer. Adorn yourself with my earnest thanks.’ I knew Ramesses enjoyed my company and took satisfaction from my work but this gift intimated our friendship had moved to a higher, and possibly more demanding, level. At home that evening, when I exhibited my gift, Ipi pouted and said she may need a matching piece so she would be as dazzling as her spouse. Her pout turned into a smile when I intimated she needed no trinket to out shine her husband.
Two days later, at the appointed hour, pharaoh arrived with his usual alacrity. He raced his chariot up to the temple, stopped in a cloud of dust and sprang down, arms extended in greeting, a look of warm welcome upon his face.
“I see nothing has changed. By ancient custom, all my subjects must pay attendance to their monarch. Heads must be lowered in submission, foreheads should touch the ground and public prayers offered for my well-being. I know of no exemption granted to the royal architect. I arrive in Thebes, the multitudes bend down before me like reeds before a breeze and I espy you sitting on a pile of rocks watching from afar. Have you no regard for your king?”
“With every breathe I pray for your welfare and you know of my regard. However, if it brings you joy, I will join the gaggle of geese who flock to your side and bow like a fowl pecking at grain upon the ground.”
“Sennefer, I have missed you. My world is full of cautious administrators, thick headed military men and sour faced priests. I am in need of some humour and irreverence. You do me the honour of providing both.”
“Master, it is I who is honoured though I am not worthy of the gift you gave me. The scarab pendant is for a prince, not a humble man who plays with stones and set squares.” I responded, delighting to be in his company again.
“It is nothing and you are worthy of receiving more such tokens of my esteem. You have heard of my victory at Qadesh?”
“Who has not? The battle is the subject on every lip. The gods brought you a great victory, returned you to the safety of your kingdom and the warmth of your family, the prestige of the realm is well embellished and your subjects are ecstatic.”
As we spoke, we had walked some way towards the new pylon and the king indicated to his guard he wished to speak to me privately.
“I was a complete fool. I almost got killed at Qadesh. My generals gave me bad advice, I did not take enough care in the preparations for the battle and my troops lacked valour under pressure. It was only the divine intervention of Amun that saved both me and the day. Just when I despaired of seeing the sun set on the day, Amun armed me with the power of a thousand men. My soldiers saw I fought alone and in peril of my life. With determination, they hacked their way through the Hittite legions and rallied to me in time to turn a sure disaster into a miserable deadlock. We did not win anything at Qadesh and I will still have to return to Syria to destroy these Hittites and their barbarian allies.” He was bitter and I could see it cost him much to speak of the battle.
“Ramesses, all that is important is that you survived victorious and the people believe you have crushed our enemies. You, more than any other man, know appearances are sometimes more important than reality.”
“My friend, Amun’s gift of a brave heart and strong sword arm overcame my rank naivety in military affairs, otherwise I could face possible disloyalty from within my army for the error I made on the day of the battle. General Horemheb, standing in the background, observed Tutankhamen and Ay and their failings. Like a hawk watching field mice, he saw their weakness and moved quickly to seize the throne. So you and I must move with alacrity to quell any disquieting rumours about Qadesh. The people must know their king has great courage and our enemies fell like wheat before the scythe. In strong words and graphic images, knowledge of the intimate bond between me and Amun must be widely disseminated.”
He paused in contemplation. “I cannot explain what happened when I beseeched Amun, but the god spoke to me and stood at my side. By day’s end my chariot wheels dripped with Hittite blood yet no arrow flew near nor any sword strike me. Truly, I am of the gods.” He sounded, to my ear, somewhat amazed by this episode.
“Call your scribe and forgive the formality of my manner.” My scribe, who had been some distance from us, came quickly to our side, sat on the ground and produced his writing tools. The king declaimed,
“I issue a rescript to the royal architect. My great victory at Qadesh is to be widely proclaimed. You will use the walls of the outer pylon at Luxor to depict the clash of arms. I wish the entire surface to be covered with epic scenes of the conflict. On the inner walls of the temple at Abu Simbel, my valorous deeds are to be inscribed. Within my mortuary temple, the pylon walls are to record the glorious battle. I further command the erection of two obelisks to stand on either side of the entrance to the courtyard on which will be engraved the words of my call to Amun and his reply. You are to depict Amun and your king with hands clasped in mutual embrace.”
“At Abydos, you will cause the walls of my new temple to be inscribed with scenes of my triumph. At the temple dedicated to Seth in Pi-Ramess, you will to chronicle my crushing of the Hittite barbarians. In all these inscriptions, the courage of my army is to be exalted and the cowardice of the enemy writ clearly, their ranks laid low by the might of Egypt and their corpses mutilated. The image of my chariot is to be deeply inscribed as I wish to venerate my noble horses for they flinched not when trampling Hittites beneath their hooves. Menna, my stalwart charioteer, will be mentioned for his steadfast valour. I, Ramesses, decree this work be done in honour of my heavenly father, Amun.”
I motioned the scribe to leave us. The mention of Seth recalled my first discussion with Ramesses about the new temple he wished built in dedication to this deity, considered to be the god of storms, deserts, disorder and foreign lands. Orthodoxy has it that Osiris was murdered by his brother Seth, who dismembered his victim and buried the pieces throughout the kingdom. Osiris’ wife, Isis, travelled the land, collected the pieces of her mutilated husband and re-assembled them. He sprang to life again but only long enough to have intercourse with her and from this brief union was born Horus, the hawk headed god. Isis unites the world of the living and the dead and she is worshipped as the protector of the dead. Osiris, Lordship of the Afterlife, is venerated at Abydos, where his severed head was first interred. Their son, Horus, symbolising structure and order, is locked in perpetual combat with his uncle, Seth, who yearns for celestial power.
At the time I remarked, “Master, you wish to dedicate a temple to the god Seth. Surely this is unwise?”
He looked at me sharply “You question my decision, architect?”
“You spoke of your need for men on whom you could rely to voice the truth, men you could trust and could consult with freely without them fearing royal disfavour?” I replied, looking at the king directly. A vision of my becoming the royal architect of drains and stables in Nubia flashed through my mind. I faced a king who thought he was a god and who now glowered at me.
His frown turned into a warm smile. “If only my generals had your courage. Sennefer, I seek a promise you will always be so frank with me.” He put his arm around my shoulder in a sign of affection. “However, restrict your disrespect for your king to private utterances lest I be forced to remove your head should you question my wisdom in public. Let me explain my beliefs regarding Seth. If my kingdom was limited to Thebes, your observation would be correct. In the Delta, Seth is not regarded with the same disdain as in Upper Egypt. There the god has many roles. He is regarded as the guardian of the borders between the kingdom and Asia. Further northwards, Seth is believed to create disorder as a necessary forerunner to the restoration of order. Do you know that many people along the edges of the Great Sea also venerate Seth? The city, Per-Ramessu-mery-Amun, built on the ruins of the Hyksos capital, is in the region where the Ramessu family lived for generations. My father took the name Seti from Seth and I am favoured by this god. My hair is red, the colour of danger, and red is his symbolic colour.”
“In building a temple to honour Seth at Pi-Ramess, I do so to let our northern neighbours see we acknowledge a god who enjoys an intimate relationship with their principal Canaanite god, Baal. This small concession may help to calm the waters, which still roil to our north.”
The explanation given, Ramesses relaxed and sat next to me, placing his arm on my shoulder.
“If the battle at Qadesh is portrayed favourably, this lessens the possibility that my generals desire to speak the truth and curry favour for themselves amongst my subjects. A lesson in kingship for you. Just after my grandfather died, the nomadic people in Palestine revolted against our dominance. My father, new to the throne, was obliged to campaign before the flowers on his coronation garlands had withered. He punished the Shasu, trampled the Kanana and crushed the Khare. He moved like a pillar of fire against Qadesh, the fortress of the Innuaamu and the Amorites, smiting heads, leaving the fields drenched with enemy blood and vultures feasted mightily. Still the Hittites refused to bow before his might. He again marched into their lands, slew their princes, captured their men and women and laid waste to all he conquered, leaving desolation and ashes in his wake. The trains full of booty groaned under their burden and Seti returned to Egypt as a mighty warrior. You have seen the record of his triumph. My generals can also read.”
“During my campaign, they were like mice confronted by a cat. Their bodies would be carrion if not for Amun’s intercession. They must hear his voice as I heard it on the glorious day the god rode at my side. The generals will have to make a choice; accept the false bravado I give them in the depictions of the battle or attempt to belittle my role as commander of our forces. If they are wise, they will choose to bask in my reflected glory.”
“If not?” I queried.
“Then their blood will stain Egyptian soil when I have them slain.”
“The lessons I learnt at Qadesh were valuable but costly. I doubt the Hittite king trembles in his boots when he hears my name, despite my bloodying his nose. We are not finished with the Hittite question so I must take every step to bring peace between ourselves and the Hittites as I doubt Egypt is strong enough to crush them. Their soldiers fight like men possessed. As fast as my army cut into their ranks, more soldiers willingly took their place. They did not flee the battlefield. If Amun had not taken my hand, my bones would now lay bleached in the sands.”
“We withdrew from the battlefield whilst Muwatallis and his troops remained. We gained no territory and not one ounce of gold in tribute. So many men killed and what do I have to offer Amun when we celebrate the victory? Some cattle, a few chariots, a wagon load of weapons and a handful of slaves. Still, as you said, appearance is sometimes greater than reality. So I must make much of little. It is in the hands of the gods if I am to be given another opportunity to best our enemies in battle but until that moment, I must work with what Amun granted me at Qadesh.”
“I will prepare in my own hand, the saga of the encounter and attempt to sketch the scenes I wish you to engrave on the monuments. Of one thing I am beyond doubt. I heard the voice of Amun in answer to my entreaty and I was suffused with the strength he delivered unto me. It is righteous and fitting that I now profess profound veneration of my intimate kinship with him. He spoke to me as a father to a son and in my darkest hour, his light shone upon me. His strength was my strength.”
As I listened to the king speak of his relationship with Amun, he did indeed seem to increase in stature and radiate the aura the high priest had observed. I did not understand my own reaction to this phenomenon. I, the cynic, the man of little faith, could feel a tingle in my spine. Was it possible Ramesses was the son of god? The king looked directly at me, breaking the mood and the tension in the air eased. He still had his arm around my shoulder as he spoke of Amum and I felt a strange heat across my back. He withdrew his arm and stood back from me.
“Sennefer, your responsibilities are now considerable. The commissions I have given you are numerous and demanding, yet you continue to acquit yourself superbly. As a reward for your services and loyalty, I would have you build a tomb for yourself and your family at my expense in Thebes. It’s design and decoration is to be of your choosing. This is the least I can do for the man who brings such majesty to the buildings I deem raised up.”
“Now, I have another command. No, actually a desire from my heart. If you can spare some little time from your labours, you may wish to join me on the river. The stench of my general’s fear is still fresh in my nostrils and I am in need of some clean air. It is reported that a herd of hippopotami instils trepidation in the hearts of my people to the north of the city and I look forward to some sport in the company of an honest man. You may laugh as there is a touch of irony in my hunting hippopotami. In parts of the Upper Kingdom, Seth is depicted as a hippopotamus. On the solar barque, as it traverses the Underworld, Horus carries the spears that I, the king, must use to spear the hippopotamus. Perhaps you will see my hair change colour as my spear brings death to the god this afternoon,” he finished with a mischievous laugh.