House of Two Pharaohs, page 18
Bronze grappling hooks were brought from the hold as the nomarch’s galley came about. Still there was no movement on the deck of the Breath of Horus.
As the captain brought them as close as he dared, five sailors took up the grappling hooks, launching them towards the galley. The ropes snapped tight as soon as the barbs caught in the cedar wood, and the sailors began, foot by foot, to draw the two vessels together. When they were only a few yards apart, the men tied the lines off and pulled themselves across the void.
Shielding his eyes, Taita tried to read the men’s faces as they climbed onto the deck, but the glare of the sun blanked out their features. A few minutes later a gangplank crashed down between the two vessels, so Piay and Taita could cross to the Breath of Horus.
Only then did Taita breathe in the meaty odour of slaughter – the stench overwhelming in the searing heat of the day.
When Taita reached the deck, the sailors on board solemnly moved aside to allow him a clear view. His breath caught in his throat.
The rich cedar-wood deck of his galley had been stained red with blood. The benches of the oarsmen, too. The gore was fresh, for here and there thick puddles still gleamed.
‘By the crown of Thoth,’ Taita muttered. ‘What madness is this?’
He pulled out his kerchief and pressed it tightly to his nose.
‘What happened here?’ Piay demanded from behind him. ‘Where is your crew?’
As he looked around in horror, Taita saw that only the captain remained on deck, slumped against the foot of the mast. His throat had been slashed and hung open, and his once-white robe was caked with dried blood.
Taita stepped down on to the deck and felt the soles of his sandals stick to the bloody boards as he walked.
‘Here!’ one of the sailors called urgently, while his mate pointed into the dark recesses of the hold.
As Taita leaned over to look, a blast of foul air rushed up and he jerked back. Clamping his mouth shut, he looked over the edge again, and as his eyes adjusted, he made out the bodies of his slaughtered crew, piled on top of one another, contorted and bloody.
Taita strode over to the dead man at the base of the mast and squatted before him. ‘Nehesy,’ he said, cupping the man’s cheek in his palm. ‘You were ever loyal to me.’
‘The Shuyet did this.’ Piay crouched down next to Taita. ‘He slit the captain’s throat and then tied him to the mast. He wants to send us a message.’
‘Yes,’ Taita said as he reached down, prising the captain’s fingers open to reveal the basalt senet stone clutched in the dead man’s palm. ‘He wants us to understand that there is no escaping him. That no army will come to save us.’
‘We will send another messenger. We need Pharaoh’s army.’
‘That is the point of this spectacle. No emissary we send, by any route, will survive the journey. The Shuyet’s spies will see to that.’ Taita shook his head. ‘No, we will not have Pharaoh’s army to help us in this fight, nor do we have the time to appeal to our friends across the Great Green. We are on our own!’
‘The Shuyet has designed this spectacle to strike fear into the heart of Memphis. News of it will spread quickly. He knows that if we are unable to get word to Thebes, then we will have to raise an army from the city – and this will make it much more difficult.’
Taita nodded in agreement.
‘You think he meant to kill you?’ Piay asked.
‘Not kill. Capture.’
Piay turned grimly back to the hold. ‘And when he discovered that you were not aboard, he slaughtered them.’
‘This message is both for me and about me, and he wants it felt in the streets of the city, as much as in your palace.’
‘What is it that he wants known?’
‘That even I cannot save Memphis from him.’
Piay absorbed Taita’s interpretation gravely. Looking up, his eyes alighted on the white walls of the ancient capital of Lower Egypt. ‘When I first set eyes upon this city,’ he began, ‘it was with Myssa at my side, and those walls were scorched and broken. Now I stand here, looking upon the same walls as they stand strong once more. I swear to you that while Myssa rests inside, I will not let them fall again. I will not let her death be for nothing.’
Piay turned to face Taita. ‘We will build an army from what the city has to offer us, and we’ll equip the galleys we have here in the harbour for war. Memphis will be ready.’
‘This is the task the gods have given us,’ Taita agreed. ‘Let us grasp it with both hands.’
Part 2
House of Water
B
ek, the new captain of the Breath of Horus, was a man of some thirty floods. He had been born in Memphis and knew the river, its currents and sandbars, from the city all the way to the Great Green. As Taita looked up at him standing on the poop-deck, he was reminded of another captain from another time: a man who had loved the formidable little vessel they stood upon almost as much as he did.
The galley had been scrubbed of blood and gore, refurbished and re-crewed. A sharp bronze ramming horn now protruded from her bows, just above the water. The Breath of Horus had been built for attack, and Bek was intent on getting every last turn of speed from her.
‘I have promoted Hannu to general,’ Piay said, appearing beside Taita. ‘I had no choice. He kept complaining loudly to anyone who would listen that I was making him do all the work without the perks of the rank.’
Taita laughed. ‘And what did he say to that?’
‘He received the news in his usual manner, grunting and stomping off in a huff. But I could see the corners of his mouth curling up as he turned away – he couldn’t hide his satisfaction entirely.’
Taita heard the note of affection in Piay’s voice – his spirits had brightened considerably since Hannu’s return, despite the disturbing news that his friend had carried with him.
When the Breath of Horus finally sailed back into the port of Peru-nefer, Hannu was standing on the edge of the dock, waiting for them impatiently.
‘What is it, General?’ Piay asked with a grin.
‘You’ll see when we get there,’ Hannu retorted, spinning on his heel and gesturing for Piay and Taita to follow.
Taita trailed Piay and Hannu as they marched away from the wharf and between the warehouses, where the air hummed with activity. The steady beat of hammers could be heard over the rolling rhythm of saws and the grinding of bow drills, cutting into the flesh of new wood. Fires crackled as they devoured the offcuts.
As they came around the corner of the last warehouse, Taita, Piay and Hannu paused to look out across the bustling shipyard. Apprentices hurried back and forth, carrying tools and messages, and foremen strode alongside the deep trenches that harboured a line of seven galleys, shouting their orders to the men who were patching the massive hulls.
‘Another galley,’ Piay marvelled, looking out to where a battered Hyksos merchantman rode at anchor. ‘You have done good work.’
‘Left behind when the Hyksos fled,’ Hannu replied proudly, folding his arms as he surveyed the yard. ‘She has some fire damage, but we’ll make her watertight, just like the others, and ready her for battle.’
Taita studied the line of galleys, held in place by wedges and beams that would be knocked away when the time came to slide the vessels into the Nile. They were a disparate collection. Four were Hyksos war galleys, with their high towers and prows adorned with ornately carved figureheads in the shape of rearing horses. Two others were Egyptian warships – damaged in skirmishes around Memphis as Pharaoh’s forces had pursued the barbarians north. At the far end, Taita recognised the low, long outline of a troop carrier, one of those that had brought the Spartan warriors across the Great Green, to join the battle against the Hyksos at Thebes.
‘Good work indeed, Hannu,’ Taita said, impressed.
‘And on that matter, follow me,’ Hannu replied. He did not acknowledge the compliment, but Taita knew that he had heard him.
Hannu led the way back along the dusty road from the port to the Gate of a Thousand Stars. In a sun-baked square just inside the city walls a banner fluttered: a blue crocodile set against a white background, its jaws wide and its coxcomb tail erect – the emblem of the Blue Crocodile Guard.
‘I brought it from the garrison, where it had been stored away,’ Hannu muttered, waving his hand towards the flag. ‘To instil courage in the hearts of the new recruits as they train.’
Piay nodded approvingly.
‘We cannot expect much in so short a time,’ Hannu continued. ‘But we will at least have men who can fight, who know how to use a sword and shield.’
Taita turned his attention to the new recruits. Many of them were still receiving basic training at the hands of the drill masters – all of them platoon commanders of the Blue Crocodiles. The square rang with the sound of wood striking wood as men faced off against each other with crudely carved wasters, the drill masters moving between them, stopping from time to time to alter a stance, or demonstrate a grip or a different way of striking at an opponent. Further on, beyond the men practising with their wooden blades, a line of archers loosed arrows at straw targets. And on the far side of the square, another group practised forming a shield wall.
‘How many men have been added?’ Piay asked. ‘Since the proclamation.’
Hannu grunted. ‘It started with a trickle. Ten, twenty . . . men from all walks of life. Merchants, shopkeepers, field workers, boatmen. We have fed them, and trained them. Now look at them. They’ve become a force.’
‘How many?’ Piay repeated.
‘Around six hundred. We have maybe two thousand men in total.’
Taita glanced at Piay; he was still scanning the training grounds, but the concern on his face was clear.
‘It isn’t an army, but it’s not nothing, either,’ Hannu asserted, as if reading their thoughts.
Piay nodded, but Taita knew what he was thinking. Two thousand fighting men was an admirable number to have assembled in such a short time, but how would it compare to the strength of the Shuyet’s army?
‘Nomarch!’
The call reverberated from the city wall. Taita turned and saw a man racing from the shadows. His kilt was stained and his body was smeared with filth.
‘One of my scouts,’ Piay explained.
‘My lord Nomarch,’ the scout began, dropping to one knee in front of Piay. ‘The Shuyet has massed his fleet at Avaris and is preparing to sail upriver.’
‘How many?’
‘Ten thousand men, my lord,’ the scout said, drawing in a deep, trembling breath – it was clear that he had run all the way from Peru-nefer. ‘If not more.’
The nomarch glanced at Taita and Hannu, clearly staggered by the number.
‘You have my gratitude,’ he said to the scout. ‘Go. Rest, and eat. There will be more to do when you have recovered your strength.’
As the scout bowed his head, Piay turned to Taita and Hannu. ‘We are badly outnumbered.’
Hannu kicked a stone across the square. ‘Damn him. Two more weeks and we would have been ready. Just two more weeks . . .’
‘The Shuyet comes,’ Taita replied. ‘We must rise to meet the challenge, whether we are ready or not.’
• • •
A
t the palace, the Memphis War Council had been urgently assembled. It comprised the Council of Elders, the commanders of the Memphis Guard and senior officers of the Blue Crocodile Guard.
As Piay walked in with Hannu behind him, he sensed the tension in the air. Ankhu was seated in his usual place to the right of the nomarch’s throne, the eldest present and the spokesman of those loyal to the nomarch.
‘Nomarch,’ he said in his creaking voice, ‘perhaps you can help us with our deliberations.’
‘We have little time for discussion,’ Piay sighed as he sat.
‘Only foolish men rush into battle without contemplation.’
Piay turned towards the man who had spoken. Bennu was one of those who had helped to govern Memphis long before Piay had arrived in the city. He was as thin as a reed and contemptuous of the new nomarch’s efforts to restore the city to its former glory. In his eyes, Piay was a pretender, an upstart from Thebes who had been appointed only because he was close to the Lord High Chancellor.
‘Speak your mind, then,’ Piay replied, trying to keep the irritation from his voice.
‘This Shuyet . . .’ Bennu croaked. ‘We have no idea of the size of his army –’
‘Ten thousand strong, at least. All sailing upriver as we speak, bound for Memphis.’
Bennu’s face lost its colour. ‘And you believe that we can somehow prevail against such a host?’
‘We do!’ Taita strode into the hall, with Asim, Gyasi and Sadiki trailing behind him.
‘What is he doing here?’ Bennu asked Piay furiously.
‘He is second only to Pharaoh himself,’ Piay replied, struggling to suppress a grin. ‘He can go where he pleases.’
Bennu turned his beady eyes on Taita as the Lord High Chancellor stepped up to the table. ‘And these . . . strangers? Are we to discuss our strategies in front of them?’
‘Our strategy is hardly a secret,’ Taita replied calmly. ‘We must survive. If one of these three is spying for the enemy, it will hardly affect our chances now. There is little we might conceive of in this meeting hall that is likely to surprise the Shuyet.’
‘General Kamose,’ Piay commanded, gesturing to a large, muscular man, dressed in a thick leather cuirass. ‘Please take us through the battle plan as it stands.’
The general cleared his throat and unfurled a map across the table. ‘We have stationed advance scouts along the river, here, and here, to keep watch on the Shuyet’s progress.’
‘And where do you plan to put the bulk of your force?’ Taita asked.
‘That is the reason for our debate in the first place,’ Bennu interjected brusquely.
Taita raised an eyebrow at Piay.
‘The esteemed Bennu here believes that we should keep our forces back, behind the city walls,’ Ankhu said.
‘And you?’ Taita asked.
‘I think we should meet him outside the city, and thus spare our citizens from the misery of another siege.’
‘But we cannot stand against ten thousand men,’ Bennu countered. ‘Even if the Shuyet had half this number, our men are raw recruits. They will run from the field as soon as they see the battle turn against us. And the battle will turn against us . . .’
‘Maybe so,’ replied Taita thoughtfully. ‘But we all know that the mighty walls of Memphis did not save the city from the Hyksos. Nor did they save the barbarians, when their turn came. We would have to be either ignorant or foolish to hope they will save us from the Shuyet. Ankhu is right – we cannot remain here, for that is undoubtedly what the Shuyet wants. We are outnumbered and are forced to take the field before we are ready, so let us at least decide where we will fight.’
As Piay listened to his teacher, he was persuaded by his argument. He stood and addressed the War Council. ‘Lord Taita is right. We must meet the Shuyet’s forces in the field, and as close to Avaris as we dare.’ He turned to General Kamose again. ‘Do you have a strategy that does not involve a siege of the city?’
‘We do, my lord,’ Kamose replied. ‘Our scouts tell us that our enemy has only enough galleys to transport a fraction of his force. So, his army will have to make its way to Memphis on foot, with the galleys matching their pace.’ He pointed to a spot on the map halfway between Avaris and Memphis. ‘This is a day’s sail north from Memphis, but four days’ forced march south of Avaris. If we transport half of our force by river, to this point, the boats can then return to Memphis for our remaining men. We can ready ourselves for the enemy here.’
‘And if we fail in the field?’ Bennu asked.
‘We can fight a rearguard action,’ the general said. ‘Every step our enemy’s men take towards Memphis is a step into our territory, where we know the terrain better than he ever will. By the time he nears Memphis, his army will be depleted. I cannot see them overcoming the might of the city walls.’
‘A good plan,’ Taita commended Kamose. ‘Do you agree, Nomarch?’
‘I do,’ Piay confirmed. ‘With a strategy like that, we may just win.’
‘Stranger things have happened,’ Hannu agreed. ‘And in your company, I’ve seen them with my own eyes.’
Piay chuckled. ‘It is decided, then. General Kamose, take the Blue Crocodiles and sail north. The Shuyet will know we’re coming, but as the Lord High Chancellor has already told us, that is unavoidable. As soon as the galleys return, I will follow with Lord Taita, General Hannu and the Memphis Guard.’
With that, Piay stood, and began walking towards the exit.
‘Where are you going, Nomarch?’ Bennu called after him. ‘There is still much to discuss!’
‘Then I will leave you to it,’ Piay replied. ‘I must speak to the people of Memphis.’
• • •
T
he final drumbeat rolled out across the forum and the trumpet players lowered their instruments. Total silence fell.
Piay stepped onto the speaker’s block and looked at the mass of men, women and children who had gathered in answer to his summons. As he studied their upturned faces, he saw the trust the citizens of Memphis had placed in him.
‘The gods look down upon us today, and they are pleased by what they see,’ Piay began, his voice carrying easily across the square. ‘They see a people who have not been broken by the miseries they have endured. A people who have risen from the ashes in defiance. There were many who thought Memphis could never achieve its former glory.’ He flung his arms wide ‘But look at us now!’
The crowd roared its approval for their nomarch.
‘We who live in Memphis know, better than most, that no state is permanent. That a season of plenty is quickly forgotten, if it’s followed by famine. That prosperity is earned. That peace is won. We know that what is built can be destroyed. That what is given can be taken away again . . . if we are not vigilant, if we are not strong, if we are not ready to fight for the gifts the gods have given us.’
