House of Two Pharaohs, page 20
‘I still do not understand what we are here to do, Lord Taita,’ Sadiki confessed. ‘We are not trained in the arts of combat, and we do not understand strategy or tactics. We are commoners.’
‘If you were common, you would not be standing here,’ Taita chided, but he could see in Asim’s eyes that he agreed with Sadiki.
‘Bandits would sometimes attack our caravan,’ Asim said, ‘and we would be compelled to fight them off. But that is far removed from the clash of great armies.’
Taita turned to Gyasi. ‘And you? Do you feel the same?’
While the others had glanced away when Taita looked at them, Gyasi replied without avoiding his eyes. ‘I do not. We are not trained soldiers, nor have we been schooled in strategy, but we can still stand and fight.’
Taita nodded his approval. ‘I have not brought you here to stand idly by, while others fight the battle for you. No, you will participate, and you will lead men.’
Sadiki looked terrified and Asim shifted his weight nervously, but Gyasi straightened and stood tall, eager to know more.
‘There will come a moment in the battle where the ships of our fleet, and those of the Shuyet’s, will come close to one another. When that happens, each of you will lead a boarding party onto one of our adversary’s vessels, to set fire to that ship and return to this one before it sinks.’
Taita felt the wind change direction, starting to blow north, towards the Great Green. He watched as Bek shouted his orders, and the sail was unfurled. Below it, the men began to draw in their oars, and the low beat of the galley’s drum ceased.
When Taita looked back to the three competitors, he saw that Sadiki’s head had dropped low, almost to the rail he was leaning on. Without looking round, the blond man murmured: ‘I am afraid.’
Taita nodded. ‘You are right to be. A battle is a frightening thing, and only the gods can predict its outcome. Your challenge will be to overcome your fear.’
‘When the Hyksos invaded, did you feel fear?’ Gyasi asked, holding Taita’s gaze.
‘That was where I learned my first lesson about war,’ Taita replied. ‘The army was led by the great general Tanus, who was once himself my pupil. In my long life, I have never seen a braver or more valiant soldier. I sailed on the royal barge with Pharaoh and the members of his court, and we took comfort in the sheer size of our army, and the certainty that barbarians could never defeat well-trained Egyptian soldiers. We were arrogant and naïve . . . I remember it as yesterday, sitting on that hill at dawn, overlooking the plain at Abnub, and seeing the cloud of dust appear on the eastern horizon. I can still feel the confusion that engulfed me as I watched the Hyksos’ gleaming chariots that seemed as fast as the wind itself, pulled by those powerful beasts which, until that day, we had never seen used in such a fashion. The sky turned black with their arrows, loosed from an impossible distance. And then Pharaoh suffered his fatal injury.’
Asim, Gyasi and Sadiki were silent.
‘But this is how I know that as powerful as this Shuyet – this Anubis – may be, he can nevertheless be defeated,’ Taita continued. ‘A single arrow from the sky can kill him, if the gods allow it. And the great host that fights for him can be routed, just the same as ours was on that terrible day.’
• • •
A
n hour north of Memphis, Piay ordered the oarsmen back to their benches. They might have the current and the wind in their favour, but he had seen enough in the dead city to know that the Shuyet would not spare his men. He would march them to exhaustion, and leave the weakest where they fell for the vultures and the jackals.
With every hour that passed, the Shuyet’s army was drawing closer to General Kamose’s position.
Piay looked across the sweating backs of the rowers as they bent over their oars, watched the flash of water on each side of the Breath of Horus as the blades dipped rhythmically, willing the vessel through the water, willing the miles to fall away and for General Kamose’s camp to appear on the horizon.
Piay saw Taita studying him, and beckoned for his master to join him.
Leaving his three charges in the prow, Taita strode past the oarsmen and climbed up to the poop-deck, where Piay was peering out across the fields.
‘What do those three have to say about our plans?’ Piay asked.
‘They are afraid.’
‘As they should be,’ Piay said scornfully. ‘They do not belong on a battlefield.’
‘And you?’ Taita asked. ‘Are you afraid?’
‘There was a time, before you came to Memphis, when I would have happily died in the service of Pharaoh. I willed it to happen, so I could join Myssa in the afterlife. When we went to take Asil, the Guild of Thieves fought us street by street, but I went without a sword, without armour. There was a part of me that wanted Asil to kill me. Or perhaps, for us to murder each other, so we could both be released.’ Piay sighed. ‘But that time has passed. The dead city changed me. I want to live again. And so, yes, now I am afraid.’
• • •
T
he men who had sailed from Memphis the day before had erected a broad swathe of tents between the date palms lining the river and the spreading acacias on higher ground. Taita nodded as he caught sight of the camp, and signalled to Bek to bring the Breath of Horus closer to the riverbank. The Memphis Guard were already busy erecting billets for the new arrivals.
Once the anchor stone had been dropped, Taita and Piay were joined by Hannu, and the three men lowered themselves into a skiff. After they had loosed the boat from its moorings, Hannu rowed them ashore.
When the soldiers saw Taita approaching with Piay and Hannu, a great cheer rang out. To have the great mage, Pharaoh’s Lord High Chancellor, with them on the eve of battle gave them courage.
Most of the men sat by their tents, the whine of whetstones filling the air around them as the armourers put new edges on blade after blade. Some others whirled their slingshots, honing their aim, while a group of spearmen, their tall wooden shields stacked to one side, practised striking at targets in front of the camp.
Taita saw that the archers were already more skilled than the last time he had seen them, and they were now dressed in polished leather helmets and breastplates.
The three men picked their way through the sprawling camp, to a larger tent near the centre, where General Kamose and his officers were in deep discussion over a map.
Kamose bowed when he saw the dignitaries step into the tent. ‘Lord High Chancellor. Nomarch. General Hannu. Our final preparations are underway. We will be ready to meet the Shuyet’s force when it arrives.’
‘What news of his army’s advance?’ Piay asked. ‘Have the scouts reported his current position?’
‘Not yet, my lord.’ Kamose beckoned to a gaunt man, and Taita recognised Raqada, the master of scouts, as he stepped forward. He was a dour man with a short temper, but blessed with a mind of rare cunning and imagination. He had affectionately named his scout corps the Ditch Rats.
‘I have nothing to report, my lords,’ Raqada said gravely.
‘Your scouts have not returned?’ Taita asked.
Raqada shook his head. ‘I fear they have been captured.’
‘Then the Shuyet will have some knowledge of our plans,’ Piay muttered.
‘I would wager that whatever they told him was no more than he had already gleaned from his own spies in Memphis,’ the spymaster said. ‘He will know that the Blue Crocodiles left the city in the galleys and that the only vessel that remained behind was the Breath of Horus. He will have guessed, I think, that the nomarch and the Lord High Chancellor would follow with the rest of the Memphis Guard. The only piece of information that perhaps still evades him is our exact location.’
When they walked back out into the camp, the sun was slipping towards the western horizon, the sky streaked with vivid pinks and blues. While the general and his lieutenants continued with their planning, Taita, Piay and Hannu followed the broad path that led to the mess tent.
Perhaps it was because they were now on the eve of battle, and all his senses were heightened, but as Taita ate the delicately flavoured stew, seasoned with cumin and sweetened with dates, it came alive on his tongue, transporting him to a time long before he had been a slave: he saw a woman’s apron flash white in the sunlight, heard the voices of other children calling to him, the splash of cool mountain water in the marble fountain where the fish swam quick and bright below the surface.
When the three men had finished their meal, they watched the glimmering stars begin to appear in the sky above them.
Night flooded down upon the camp from the dark ridge of hills that stood behind the acacias, eddying around the campfires as it washed towards the river. ‘We should return to the Breath of Horus and get some sleep,’ Piay said. ‘Tomorrow’s problems will arrive whether we wait up for them or not.’
But as they stood up, a cry of alarm came from one of the lookouts along the river. It was taken up by another voice, and then another.
The three men hurried through the maze of tents. Reaching the edge of the camp, they stepped away from the glow of the fires. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the dim moonlight and the huddle of men standing along the shoreline and looking apprehensively upriver to become visible.
Taita, Piay and Hannu did not have to wait long to see why they had gathered. Within moments, the burning carcass of a boat wallowed around the river bend, casting a shimmering circle of orange light over the ink-black water.
‘Someone has set a felucca alight,’ one of the scouts said.
Taita felt his heart begin to pound in his chest. As the flames leapt towards the sky, he could see that the fire was consuming a tattered sail that tugged and swayed as it burned, and something else, too – something attached to the flaming mast.
As the craft came closer, Piay realised it was a man. The unfortunate soul had been fixed to the spars of the mast with his arms outstretched, and the fire had consumed his tunic and blackened his skin so that he now looked to have been coated with pitch. He was not moving.
As the felucca began to drift into the papyrus beds, Hannu threw himself into the reeds.
‘Help him!’ Piay commanded to the men around him. The lookouts squelched through the mud after Hannu, wading up to their waists in the chill water.
The small boat had been sinking slowly as it drifted along, and now it finally sank in a hiss of steam as the last flames were extinguished. There were curses and shouts, and then Taita heard the men struggling their way back to shore, crashing through the reeds as Kamose arrived with Raqada and a detachment of soldiers. One of the new arrivals raised a torch, spreading light across the sodden men as they staggered from the papyrus beds.
Taita grimaced when he saw the charcoaled arms and legs. They were carrying the man from the mast.
The lookouts laid the rigid body down on the muddy bank as Taita asked for the torch to be brought closer.
‘He’s one of my Ditch Rats,’ Raqada murmured.
Taita leaned forward to inspect the corpse. ‘They have cut off his eyelids,’ he said grimly. ‘As punishment for spying, presumably.’
‘This is a message for us,’ Piay whispered.
‘Bring him back to the camp,’ Taita said. ‘He will not be denied the afterlife.’
As several of the men carefully carried the charred body back towards the tented city, Taita, Piay and Hannu convened with Genral Kamose. ‘This Shuyet knows well how to fill the hearts of men with fear,’ the general muttered.
‘He does indeed,’ Taita replied. ‘But I see reason for hope.’
‘How so?’ Piay asked.
‘A leader who is certain of victory would not bother with such tricks on the eve of battle.’
‘Then this poor wretch is a good omen,’ Hannu muttered.
• • •
T
he calls of the waterfowl echoed across the lonely reed beds, causing Piay to stir and throw off his blanket.
He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked past the rows of sailors snoring on their benches, to the lone figure standing in the prow, outlined against the morning sky. Taita had awoken before any of them, and he stood like a sentinel, hands clasped behind his back, his face raised to the rising sun, his eyes closed in meditation.
In that moment, Piay felt humbled that the great mage had chosen to take him in as a child, had chosen to guide him and shape him into the man he had become.
Standing, Piay stretched and then strode across the deck. He waited silently for his master to finish his meditation, but as soon as his eyes opened – before Piay could even utter a word of greeting – Taita said: ‘What is it that you believe the Shuyet wants?’
Piay frowned. ‘He wants Memphis. To secure the capital as the seat of some resurgent Lower Kingdom. Hannu heard as much in Avaris.’
Taita rubbed his chin. ‘How do you think he intends to win it?’
‘He hopes to best us in the field,’ Piay replied confidently. ‘We stand between him and his prize.’
‘This is true. But the Shuyet is no mere general. His aim is different.’
‘How?’ Piay rubbed his eyes, struggling to understand what his master was trying to tell him.
‘He cannot simply conquer the people of Memphis and rule them accordingly. He aspires to be god and Pharaoh to them, which means he must inspire not only fear in his subjects, but also love. They are to be citizens in his new kingdom. He cannot annihilate or subjugate them, as a common general would.’
After so many years at his side, Piay knew to await further explanation when his master made a statement that seemed to make no sense.
‘The Hyksos and their Shepherd King were cunning, and they understood strength in numbers. They crushed us with superior force, as any ordinary general would. But the Shuyet . . . The Shuyet moves differently.’ Piay watched as Taita paused and then said: ‘I am not yet certain, but I suspect that my confidence in the Shuyet’s desire to keep us within the walls of Memphis may not have been as well founded as it seemed. I fear we have, perhaps, once again misconstrued his true intentions.’
‘There is little time to change our plans –’
‘We must expect the unexpected.’ Taita’s voice cracked like a whip. ‘Now that he has tortured our spies, we must expect that the Shuyet will know all our strengths and weaknesses. We may have taken him by surprise by venturing forth so boldly, but now our strategy will be clear to him. He will be ready for everything we do. Wake Hannu, and find General Kamose.’
Hearing the urgency in Taita’s words, Piay bounded along the deck. But barely had he passed the first three rowing benches when a noise shattered the stillness like the sonorous voice of Osiris passing judgment in the afterlife.
The blast rolled out across the quiet fields and the swaying papyrus, frightening the waterfowl, which thundered into the air in a vast cloud.
The war trumpets were sounding.
• • •
W
hile the sailors responded to the captain’s orders and hurried to their stations, Taita called Asim, Gyasi and Sadiki forward, leading them across the deck to where Piay and Hannu huddled in animated conversation by the stern tower.
Piay frowned as he considered his friend’s words. ‘I doubt Taita would think it wise,’ he said.
‘It is a gamble, that’s true,’ Hannu agreed. ‘But no general would do such a thing. So the Shuyet will not expect it.’
‘For good reason.’
Piay glanced over at Taita, but had no time to reveal what had been discussed as the lookout above them bellowed his warning and the other lookouts picked up the call.
Taita had prepared himself for battle, strapping a leather breastplate over his white robe. The Eye of Horus hung at his waist, and he had donned his helm, which Piay had last seen him wear during the victory over the Hyksos at the Battle of Thebes. The contestants wore similar attire, and they appeared genuinely transformed by it, Taita thought to himself. He was curious to see how each of them would respond, thrust into the chaos of war.
‘Make ready,’ Piay shouted, stabbing a finger ahead as a ship appeared around the bend in the river. It was a long, heavy Hyksos galley, Taita could see. The prow had been carved into a galloping stallion, and the tower aft was high enough to give the ship’s officers commanding views over the battle. The square white sail was marked with the jackal head of Anubis, and Taita heard a grim murmuring ripple through the sailors on the Breath of Horus as they saw the enemy for the first time.
The deck of the Hyksos ship was thick with warriors – spears bristled and swords glinted in the rising sun.
With the throng around him gripped by the sight of the enormous vessel ploughing towards them, it was only Taita who noticed the tall masts of more galleys approaching, still hidden by the bend of the river. He counted them silently as they appeared, one after the other, until a total of twenty vessels were in view.
The fleet that Hannu had built was less than half the strength of the Shuyet’s navy, but, looking back across the flotilla, Taita felt proud to see the men of Memphis readying themselves for battle despite the size of the force arrayed against them. They shook their bows in the air and roared their defiance, the noise rolling out across the water like the growl of a hunting lion.
Piay gripped Taita’s arm and shook him from his reverie. ‘Hannu has a skiff prepared.’
Taita frowned. ‘I am not leaving. Not now, when the battle is joined.’
‘Not you,’ Piay replied. ‘The land battle will be fierce. I need to be amongst my men.’
Taita realised that this is what Hannu had been so animatedly advocating as the two friends stood by the tower. ‘You were right in suspecting that I would consider it unwise,’ he began. ‘But Hannu is also right. No general would do it, so the Shuyet will not expect it.’
He held Piay’s eyes for a moment, knowing well that this might be the last time they saw each other. Then Taita gave him a nod. ‘Go, and may the gods smile upon us both this day, so that at its end, we may meet each other again.’
