Chapter 5

Senusret

Khakhaperre—the man whose new name, upon ascending to the throne of Kemet, boldly proclaimed that the Soul of Ra had appeared—had been born as Senusret. He was named for a grandfather of several generations back, who, amidst a time of civil unrest and splintering governments, had risen to found the illustrious dynasty that had since ruled the land of Kemet. It was he who had restored order and unity to the People after the dark time of dissension and chaos. And it was as Senusret that Khakhaperre, fourth king of the dynasty and second to bear the name, preferred to be known.

When his tjaty entered the elegantly appointed receiving hall and bowed in formal greeting, the aging king simply waved his hand and beckoned his loyal counselor, trailed by his flush-faced young assistant, to approach.

“Zaphenath,” the king said, smiling, “what reports do you have for me today?”

Senusret’s great receiving hall, with its lofty pillars and brightly decorated walls, seemed quiet that morning. The usual court advisors were absorbed in their own conversations, and the artfully painted figures and characters adorning the interior felt subdued without the bustle and murmur of more crowded days. Senusret himself wore only an elegant wig and simple linen robes, forgoing the more elaborate pieces of costume that announced his position on earth as a Son of Ra and future god. His mortal face was not so deeply lined as the faces of men his age who had toiled in the fields, and the lines around his mouth and eyes maintained a certain gentleness in his expression.

Rising from where he sat, Senusret greeted his vizier, while Amon lowered his entire body, as best he could, in reverential respect.

“Good to see you again, Amon,” Senusret said, gesturing for him to rise. “Let’s see what news you have.”

As Amon regained his footing, Zaphenath plucked one of the scrolls from the bundle the young man held. “The storage levels of the granaries are falling,” Zaphenath told the king, unrolling the first scroll.

Senusret glanced at him, noting the almost abrupt tone in his voice and the unusual soberness of his expression. Zaphenath remained impassive, so Senusret accepted the offered scroll and studied the figures, frowning.

“The trend is similar throughout the region.” Zaphenath pointed at the columns of numbers collected from granaries around the state. The king nodded, raising his eyes again. Zaphenath plucked another scroll, handing the first back to Amon. “However, we’ve established higher levels of supplies further inland, where fewer foreigners are coming to trade. We can easily transfer the surplus grain while maintaining a steady balance to feed our own people.”

Senusret nodded, looking down at the second scroll. “How long will the transfer take?”

“It’s already underway, Majesty.” Zaphenath inclined his head. “We acted in anticipation of the decline. We should be able to begin redistributing and recalculating wages within the month. Kemet has the supplies to support her People and her neighbors, as long as we are mindful of our constraints.”

Senusret smiled at Amon. “Your father could not have had a finer successor,” he said, and Amon quickly lowered his head at the compliment. “Now tell me,” the king said, looking back at his vizier, “what progress has been made on our irrigation systems in the Oasis?”

Zaphenath heard the sound of sauntering footsteps and a voice call out, “Tjaty.”

Zaphenath turned and made his customary half-bow. “Prince.”

Senusret’s oldest son, named for his father, was away from the palace on a diplomatic errand, seeking to maintain the rather profitable trade relations the elder Senusret had established with some of their northern neighbors. This arrangement left the king’s second son, Asar, with the run of the palace and, Zaphenath thought darkly, free to torment his father’s senior official.

“My father thinks I ought to become involved in helping to oversee these land development projects in the Oasis,” Asar said, waving his hand vaguely.

Glancing at Senusret, who merely smiled his assent, Zaphenath managed a weak smile himself. “It would be my honor.” He reached for a new scroll, handing the other back to Amon, while Asar stepped closer and looked over Zaphenath’s shoulder.

On the scroll was a diagram of a large plot of land. What Asar had been calling the Oasis was really a region of marshlands near the capital city, most frequently used for aristocrats’ hunting and fishing trips. “The additional acreage you’ve identified, Majesty,” Zaphenath said, after glancing over his shoulder at Asar, “can almost certainly become prime arable land with the proper drainage and development. Its central location will be particularly valuable for the resulting ease of distribution.”

“Have you been to the area yourself?” Asar asked.

Again, Zaphenath glanced over his shoulder. “I have been out for several inspections,” he said, “and my assistant recently returned from meeting with officials on my behalf.” He glanced at Amon, who nodded. Zaphenath continued, indicating an inscription on the papyrus, “As it turns out, the lowered water levels right now are allowing us to develop a particularly good estimate regarding the viability of the marshlands.”

“Perhaps,” Asar said, pressing a hand to his chest and looking toward his father, “for the sake of accuracy, it would do to return to the place oneself before presenting a report to His Majesty.”

Zaphenath raised his eyes from the scroll. “I assure you, Prince, the calculations are accurate and in accord with the most recent visits. Observe.” Pointing to the characters written around the diagram, he began to explain the finer details of the drainage and development plan, including the mathematic calculations undertaken to produce a workable model of water flow and progressive estimates of additional crop yield, all while speaking at a steadily more rapid pace. Soon Asar’s eyes began to wander.

“All right,” the prince muttered, waving his hand again. Zaphenath inclined his head and turned back to Senusret, continuing his explanations.

Less than a minute later, Asar interjected, “Forgive me, Father, I have other business this morning.” With a regal sniff, he took his leave.

Senusret watched his son go. “Asar is not so well versed in the matter yet,” he said after a moment. “Perhaps a . . . less-detailed explanation, next time.”

Zaphenath inclined his head. “My apologies.”

Senusret smiled slightly. “You seem agitated, Zaphenath.”

Keeping his eyes on the scroll in his hands, Zaphenath quickly rolled the papyrus closed, tapping the fringed end against his palm. “Not at all, Majesty.”

Senusret looked at him, then, as if acknowledging that there was perhaps no more information to be had, simply shrugged. “Well, your calculations are excellent, if a little difficult for the average man to keep up with.” He paused. “People tend to respond better to being led, not overpowered.” He smiled again. “Gently, Zaphenath. Gently.”