Desert God (19 page)

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Authors: Wilbur Smith

BOOK: Desert God
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Although I had planned our route to pass well south and east of the Sinai Peninsula which the Hyksos claimed as their territory; I was taking no chances that Gorrab might not have learned of our plans and sent a battalion of his chariots to intercept us.

Behind the tight formation of guards came another fifty of the lanky, long-striding camels. They carried the tents, furniture and the other elaborate camp paraphernalia which would be set up at every rest stop during the journey.

Following them on foot came the rabble of camp-followers and the servants and slaves. Next in the procession strode another twenty dromedaries. These carried the heavy sacks of silver coinage.

The rearguard comprised the third battalion of Crocodile Guards, and the loose horses, camels and the baggage waggons. As they came level with where we were resting I gave the order to strike the tent under which we sat.

We rode forward until we reached our place in the centre of the long winding procession that stretched out for almost a league across the desert. This unwieldy and slow moving agglomeration of men and animals took ten full days to reach the western shore of the Red Sea.

Z
aras rode up from the port of Sagafa to meet us. He and his honour guard came galloping back along our caravan, and he reined in when he reached the royal party and jumped down from the saddle to greet the two princesses.

He went down on one knee in front of Tehuti and gave her the clenched-fist salute. She rewarded him with a vivacious smile.

‘Captain Zaras, I am very pleased that we shall have your company for the rest of the journey to Babylon. I well remember your declamation on the storming of the fortress at Tamiat when you and Lord Taita returned from that mission. It would give me great pleasure if you were to dine with us this evening and afterwards entertain us with another recitation. As regards the remainder of the journey to Babylon, it is my wish and my command that you relinquish your place in the vanguard of this caravan to another officer and that you place yourself in a position to provide direct protection to my sister Princess Bekatha and myself.’

I exhaled sharply and loudly enough for her to hear me, but she ignored my smothered protest and concentrated all her attention on Zaras. He looked uncomfortable and stuttered slightly as he replied to her: the first time ever that I had heard him do so.

‘Your Royal Highness, to hear your command is to obey. However, please forgive me. I must immediately report to Lord Taita whom Pharaoh has placed in command of this caravan and to whom he has entrusted the royal hawk seal.’

I was impressed by Zaras’ loyalty to me, and by his attempt to remind Tehuti who held ultimate authority. The poor fellow was trying desperately to wriggle out from under the conflict of interest with which she was attempting to saddle him.

I steeled myself to come to his rescue when the royal thunderstorm broke over his head. Tehuti was unaccustomed to having even her lightest orders questioned. She surprised me yet again. Instead of cutting Zaras down she smiled and nodded.

‘Do so at once, Captain Zaras. Your duty as a soldier comes before all other considerations.’

Zaras fell in beside me, and I deliberately hung back to keep us just out of earshot of the princesses while we rode down towards the rim of the escarpment, below which lay the straggling buildings of Sagafa at the edge of the sea.

Taking his cue from me Zaras lowered his voice as he told me that while he was awaiting our arrival he had taken the opportunity to sail across the sea in a fast dhow to the little fishing harbour of El Kumm on the far shore. He had gone there in order to make certain that our Bedouin guide had received our orders, and that he and his men were waiting there to lead us across the Arabian Desert.

This was Al Namjoo, the same guide who had led us across the Sinai Peninsula on our journey to the shores of the Middle Sea and the fort of Tamiat.

‘I am pleased to be able to tell you that Al Namjoo has been awaiting our arrival for well over two months, ever since he first received my message that we were coming.’ Zaras looked pleased with himself. ‘His two sons are with him, but he has sent them on ahead to reconnoitre the waterholes and the oases along the caravan route. So far the reports they have sent back to him are that there is good water in all of them, as we might expect in this season of the year.’

‘I am relieved to hear this,’ I told him, but then I glanced sideways at him. ‘Continue, Zaras. You were going to say more,’ I prompted him, and he looked startled.

‘How did you …’ he began, and I completed the sentence for him.

‘How did I know? I knew because you are not very adept at concealing anything from me. I mean that as a compliment rather than a rebuke.’

He shook his head and laughed ruefully. ‘We have been separated far too long, my lord. I had forgotten how you are able to read a man’s thoughts. But you are right, my lord. I was just going to mention one thing more, but I hesitated lest you think me an alarmist.’

‘Nothing you can tell me will make me believe that,’ I assured him.

‘Then I must tell you that while I was in Al Namjoo’s encampment three refugees were brought in from the desert. They were in a sorry state, almost dead from thirst and from their wounds. Truth to tell one of them died within a very short time of reaching the safety of Al Namjoo’s tents, and the other was unable to speak.’

‘Why not, Zaras?’ I demanded. ‘What fate had befallen these unfortunates?’

‘My lord, the first one had been flayed with heated sword-blades so that most of the skin was burned away from his body. His death can only have been a happy release from his agonies. As for the other man, his tongue had been hacked from his throat most brutally. He was only able to grunt and bellow like an animal.’

‘In the name of Horus the merciful, what had befallen them?’ I demanded of Zaras.

‘The third man had escaped such brutal injuries. He was able to tell us that he had been the leader of a caravan of fifty camels and as many men and women carrying salt and copper ingots down from the town of Turok when they were set upon by Jaber al Hawsawi. This is the one that men call the Jackal.’

‘I know of him by reputation only,’ I admitted. ‘He is one of the most feared men in Arabia.’

‘There is every reason to fear him, my lord. He emasculated and disembowelled all the other men and woman of the caravan merely for the sport of it. Of course the Jackal and his men coupled with their captives, both men and women, before massacring them.’

‘Where is the Jackal now? Did this man know where they have gone?’

‘No, my lord. He has disappeared back into the desert. But one thing is certain, and that is that he will be lurking along the caravan routes like the animal he is named for.’

At that moment Tehuti turned in the saddle and called back to us over her shoulder: ‘What are you two discussing so earnestly? Come up here and ride with Bekatha and me. If you and Zaras are telling stories to each other then we want to share them with you.’

Even I dared not flout her orders twice in quick succession. The two of us pushed our mounts up level with the princesses. Skilfully Tehuti interposed her own mount between Zaras and me to prevent us continuing to discuss matters that did not interest her particularly. At that moment the rugged and rocky track we were following came out on the crest of the hills and Tehuti reined in her horse and let out a cry of astonishment and delight.

‘Look! Oh, won’t you look at that! Have you ever seen a river so wide and blue? By the horned head of Hathor it must be a hundred times wider than our Nile. I cannot even see across to the other side.’

‘That’s no river, Your Highness,’ Zaras told her. ‘That is the sea; the Red Sea.’

‘It is enormous,’ Tehuti enthused, and Zaras did not know her well enough to realize that she was putting on an act for his benefit. ‘It must be the biggest sea in the entire world!’

‘No, Your Royal Highness,’ Zaras corrected her respectfully. ‘It’s the smallest of all the seas. The Middle Sea is the largest, but wise men have calculated that the Great Dark Ocean on which this world floats is even larger.’

Tehuti turned to him, opening her eyes wide with admiration. ‘Captain Zaras, you know such a great deal; perhaps almost as much as Lord Taita. You must ride with me and my sister Bekatha for at least a few hours every day to instruct us in these matters.’

Tehuti is not easily turned aside from her purpose.

T
he crossing to Arabia was infinitely more difficult and demanding than had been our voyage to Tamiat the previous year. On that occasion we had been a company of less than two hundred men, travelling swiftly and lightly; and it had only been necessary for us to cross the Gulf of Suez, that narrow westerly finger of water that pokes up between Egypt and the Sinai Peninsula. It is less than fifty leagues wide.

Now we had to keep much further south, to avoid at all costs entering the Sinai Peninsula where the Hyksosian chariots that Gorrab might send to intercept us could be lurking.

We were forced to cross the main body of the Red Sea at its widest point. This entailed a voyage of more than two hundred leagues; transporting over a thousand men and animals in fifty open-decked dhows. One of these small boats was only capable of carrying ten of the camels at a time. Each of them would have to make multiple crossings.

Taking into account all these factors I had to allow at the very least two full months for us to bring our caravan across to Arabia.

I kept the royal party encamped on the Egyptian shore while the main elements were being ferried over the narrow sea. I knew from hard experience that it was not wise to let the princesses become bored, or allow them to have too much spare time on their hands.

The royal enclosure was carefully segregated from the rest of the encampment. Although it was the size of a small village, it surpassed even a large city in the sumptuousness of its appointments and the plethora of comfort and luxury which surrounded the inhabitants.

Every few days the princesses rode out with a hunting party which I led. Either we pursued the fleet-footed desert gazelle that flitted as lightly as moths across the salt flats, or we climbed into the hills where the curling-horned ibex haunted the crags and cliff faces. When this hunting palled the girls flew their trained falcons at the wild duck and geese that swarmed along the seashore.

At other times I arranged picnics on the offshore islands where the girls could swim in the translucent waters, or spear the swordfish and giant sea bass which swarmed on the underwater coral forests.

One thing I did insist on was that most of their mornings were filled with their studies. I had brought with us two erudite scribes to coach them in their writing, mathematics and geometry. I also enjoyed acting as their tutor. Our classes were made up of solemn hard work, interspersed with bouts of merriment and girlish giggles. These were my favourite times of the day. They chatted away to Loxias in Minoan, excluding me from the conversation as though I could not understand a word of the language. They discussed the most intimate subjects in salacious detail. Loxias was the eldest of the trio, so she had set herself up as the leading authority on all matters carnal and erotic. However, listening to her it was clear that she was totally devoid of practical experience. She relied entirely on a vivid and fertile imagination for the details.

During these sessions I could truly get to know them better and find out what was really going on in those beautiful and busy little heads.

Each of them professed to having discovered the love of their lives. Loxias had decided on Lord Remrem. However, she was transmuted to stone in his presence: deprived of the power of speech and unable to do more than blush and cast down her eyes. I think she was most awed by the fact that he was a Lord of the Royal Council while she was a commoner and a foreigner. She seemed not at all deterred by the fact that Remrem was almost twice her age, already had three wives and was blithely unaware of her existence.

Bekatha had become enchanted with Hui, the famous horseman and charioteer. Little did she know that he had been a blood brother of the infamous criminal Basti the Cruel when I captured him. I had done my best to tame and civilize him, but he still had a wide streak of the barbarian in him, particularly when it came to his sense of humour. Bekatha enjoyed nothing better than being pounded over the roughest ground that Hui could find in his chariot, clinging to him with both arms around his waist and shrieking like a lost soul in Hades. The two of them exchanged jokes and insults which were totally obscure to any other listener, but which doubled them both up with laughter. As a mark of her special approbation Bekatha took to pelting him with pieces of bread and fruit across the table when he accepted her invitation to dine with us.

Tehuti kept aloof from these discussions and displays of affection. None of us pressed her on the subject.

Our evenings were passed in setting each other riddles; in storytelling and rhyming; in singing and playing musical instruments; or in playacting and reciting poetry.

By these means and with careful planning I was able to keep my three charges out of dangerous mischief, and the days fled by as swiftly as migrating birds. Finally the main part of our convoy was across to the eastern shore of the sea, and it was time for us to follow them.

Before sunrise on the morning of the fifteenth day of the month of Athyr we all assembled on the beach while the three priestesses of Hathor, ably assisted by both Tehuti and Bekatha, sacrificed a fine white ram to the goddess.

We promised the goddess that we would sacrifice a camel to her if she treated us kindly when we were on the water and guided us safely to the far shore. Then we embarked and pushed off from the beach.

The goddess must have been listening for she sent a brisk warm breeze out of Egypt to fill our sails and send our flotilla scurrying through the choppy waters. Before the setting of the sun Africa sank beneath the waves behind us.

As darkness fell every ship hoisted an oil lamp to the top of her mast, to enable us to keep each other in sight. Steering by the stars we maintained our easterly course. As the dawn broke we raised the distant shoreline of Arabia like a row of rotten shark’s teeth, brooding black against the fresh blue sky of the morning sky. We steered for them all day, and the sun was still a hand’s breadth above the horizon when fifty men of the Crocodile Guards waded out to seize the hulls of our dhows and drag them high and dry up the beach. The girls were able to step out on to Asian soil without wetting their dainty little feet. The royal encampment with all its delights was already laid out above the high watermark, ready to receive them. I had ordered it so.

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