Magic of the Nile (5 page)

“I’ve had plenty for now, thank you.” She shook her head. “We must be getting close to the spot?”

“Yes, I think over the next rise.” He packed the water skin away and they returned to the chariot, horses picking up their pace to a trot as Sahure directed them over the hard packed earth. Portions of the journey from the site of Tyema’s temple had been on what seemed to be the remnants of an ancient thoroughfare, but in other places where no road ran, the ground was firm enough to allow the vehicle an easy passage.

“Oh, so beautiful,” Tyema said as the horses reached the top of the small hill and the inlet came into view, a swath of pale blue water, partially enclosed by a slender peninsula on the south. Shielding her eyes with one hand, she gazed at the river.

“And large,” Sahure answered, feeling satisfaction sweep over him.
This is the spot, I’m sure. Pharaoh will be pleased. We can build an efficient harbor complex here.
He drove to a small stand of palm trees providing a welcome spot of shade. “Do you mind if I take some notes before we see what your relative the innkeeper packed for our noonday meal?”

“Go ahead—of course the work must take precedence. Can I help?”

He assisted her from the chariot. “If you aren’t too tired you can pace out the area with me.”

Tyema laughed. “All I’ve done is stand in the chariot and walk with you a few times when we rested the horses. My normal day’s activities are much more strenuous, inspecting the temple’s businesses, our farms, conducting ceremonies—”

Sahure held up one hand. “I’m convinced.” As they strolled from one side to the other of the wide basin and he took notes and measurements on his clay tablet, she began asking questions about the need for a new harbor.
 

“We’ve done without one in Ibis province since the time of the earliest pharaohs. Even your uncle’s capital city is inland, on the caravan route, rather than the river,” she said. “What new condition has arisen to require a port here?”

Sahure regarded her with respect, surprised by the incisive question. “It’s not to be known generally, you understand, but a new source of copper has been located deep inside Ibis Province. Pharaoh is anxious to establish mining and smelting operations there and have an easy way to ship the ore north.”

“Copper is a valuable commodity,” Tyema said, fanning herself lazily.

“Pharaoh has been doing much work for the past ten years rebuilding Egypt after driving out the Hyksos, to make us strong enough to withstand any new attempt at invasion. These efforts are a severe draw on his treasury. New mines could help refill the coffers. And in addition, his ambassadors are negotiating treaties with the nations to the east, for spices, principally. The most direct route would be to this general area and then north by boat. The Nile is a much faster way to travel than caravan. Cargo ships can carry greater loads.”

Tyema nodded her agreement with his points. “I’ll have to make sure a suitable tithe is paid to Sobek then, when the new trade develops.”

A bit startled at her matter of fact tone, Sahure stared. “Your temple will negotiate this with my uncle?”

“Of course I’ll negotiate it with him,” Tyema said, her voice crisp. “The temple treasury always has need of funds. Don’t look so horrified, the deben is put to excellent use. We run several schools, maintain a medical clinic where the poor can come for treatment, an orphanage…”

“I see.” Sahure had a mental image of his imposing uncle sitting at the negotiating table in full regalia with Tyema in her simple gown on the other side and the picture wasn’t as amusing as he might have thought a few hours earlier. This priestess had a level head and seemed able to accomplish what she set out to do. “Your god is well served, Lady Ema.”

“I only do what’s required for Sobek’s honor, to make sure he receives his due and the temple can care for the people. I have my duties.” She shrugged. “So explain to me what makes this particular bend in the river a top choice for the harbor. I assume it has to do with the peninsula?”

“Yes, we can enlarge upon what nature has already given us, creating a stable and long quay where numerous ships can load and unload. The terrain here is suitable for launching ships or loading ore directly onto barges. Pharaoh might even build ships here. The water appears quite deep, even close to shore, and of course we can dredge if necessary.” Sahure gestured at the group of trees where the chariot waited. “There must be a supply of underground water for so much vegetation to have grown. A port town could be built here fairly easily. And if your inundation records show the area isn’t prone to too much flooding, I see no reason why we couldn’t establish a bustling trade center in just a few years. And lastly, the contours of the terrain provide some shelter from storms.”

“I can see it all clearly when you describe the scene,” she said with a smile. “All you need now is a name for your fair city. May I suggest something honoring Sobek?”

“Naming the place will be up to Pharaoh and the gods.” He grinned. Talking to Ema about his plans and dreams for the city he knew he could build if given the chance was exhilarating. He couldn’t remember any other conversation with a woman that produced such feelings. Court ladies might feign an interest in his civic engineering for a few moments, before they retired to the shade to nap in boredom. She challenged him as if she were going to be a partner in the construction. “But for now I suggest we have lunch.”

“And after lunch?”

Anticipating her question, he felt a smile coming on. “It’ll be time to drive back to your temple and yes, I’ll give you the first lesson about handling chariot horses.”

As they strolled toward the palm trees and the horses, Tyema pursued the subject a bit further. “Are you going to teach me to harness them properly? Not today obviously, but at some point?”

He was surprised. “Do you wish to learn? Surely you’ll hire a trained team of stable keepers, since deben must not be an object.”

“If I’m going to spend the temple’s deben on something, I need to understand all aspects of the investment,” she said, her voice brisk. “How else can I be sure things are being done properly in the future?”

“A fair point.”
She’s as thorough about this as she is about everything, apparently. “
Very well, I’ll treat you as we do the cadets at the military academy and drill you thoroughly on all the procedures, not just handling the reins.”

***

The week sped by, became two weeks. Tyema conducted her ceremonies and her official duties as efficiently as ever, although she did delegate an unusual number of tasks to her most trusted underpriestess and even a few things to the young priest who’d just transferred in from another nome, which raised Jemkhufu’s eyebrows. On the appointed days, Sahure would sweep up to the temple gates in his chariot, the horses full of energy and ready to run, and off they’d go, Tyema dressed in simple clothing, Sahure in his workaday uniform.
 

Each evening when they ate their picnic dinners, packed by the staff at the Blue Crocodile, he regaled her with stories from his wide ranging travels and what he admitted were heavily edited versions of his times in battle, fighting by Pharaoh’s side. Sahure made it clear he admired their ruler’s skills as a warrior. “Nat-re-Akhte is a tremendous commander, wily, fearless in battle. When we went against an incursion by Mitanni forces in the north a few years ago, it was our chariots versus theirs. Pharaoh led the way and I was privileged to be assigned to his right flank. In battle, each war chariot has a driver and an archer, you know.”

“So you’re an expert bowman as well?” Tyema said. “I’d like to see a demonstration some day.”

“You may have noticed I keep my war bow and a full quiver of arrows on the chariot at all times.” He rose from the blanket where their dinner was spread out and returned a moment later with a gleaming recurved bow and one arrow. Making the movements seem effortless, he strung the bow. “After we eat I’ll be glad to do some target shooting for you. But you’ll have to help me retrieve the arrows. Can’t waste weaponry.”

“Gladly, although I have a feeling you’re being too modest. You probably don’t miss what you’re aiming for very often.” Tyema held out her hands. “May I see the bow?”

“Can’t afford to miss the target in combat.” He handed the weapon over and sat down, picking up his mug of beer. “Try to pull the bowstring,” he invited.

Struggling against the tension of the bow, Tyema found she could only move the string a few inches. “Clearly I’m not meant to be an archer.”

“We train endlessly for a reason,” Sahure said. He thumped one bicep with his fist. “It takes awhile to gain the strength to use a bow well and then the power must be maintained through frequent exercise. Speed, strength, stability make for a good bow and an effective fighter.”

“And a keen eye, no doubt.” She turned the bow over, examining the construction. “What kind of horn is this on the underside?”

“We call that the belly of the bow,” he said. “Mine is made with the finest ibyx horn. The rest is willow, the parts bound together with sinew of the gazelle and glue. It’s served me well. When I was younger, learning my warcraft, I had smaller bows, with less power, easier to draw. Those are packed away in my family’s armory now, for training my sons, if someday I might be so blessed as to have any.”

Setting aside the bow, Tyema examined the arrow, running her fingers over the striped feathers at the end and then touching the sharp point with her thumb. “Bronze tipped?”

He nodded. “Pharaoh’s armorers turn these out by the thousands.”

“But did the Mitanni have archers too?”

“They no doubt thought themselves to be gods of warfare, having placed three men in a chariot. The enemy that day had a driver, a shield bearer and a spearman in each vehicle.” Sahure laughed, as if the memory was a pleasing one. “Fools.”

Seeing his amusement, Tyema was puzzled. “Extra manpower and weapons must give an advantage, surely?”

“But consider the weight of three men such as myself in a chariot,” he said. “Requires the vehicle to be heavier and therefore slower. Ours turn in the wink of an eye, you’ve experienced that yourself when we’ve practiced driving.”

Tyema nodded agreement, remembering the excitement of the horses galloping full out and then wheeling in a great arc, dust flying, as she redirected them in a maneuver Sahure had assured her was typical on the battlefield. “Without toppling over.”

He pointed a cautionary finger at her. “If done right. Their cumbersome vehicles could barely maneuver at all. And I can shoot a volley of arrows from a distance, where their soldiers could only hurl spear after spear from fairly close in. They ran out of spears well before we exhausted our arrows.”

“So victory was easily obtained then?” Tyema tried to imagine hundreds of chariots coming together in combat. She shivered at the mental picture.

Face set in grave lines, no trace of his amusement remaining, Sahure reached to take the bow, setting it beside him. “No, victory is never easy. Even with our advantage of speed and maneuverability, many good men fell that day to win the battle for Egypt.”

There was a little pause and then Tyema changed the subject, sensing he didn’t wish to discuss the details of combat any further. He’d given her a glimpse of another aspect of his life, one she’d never known much about, other than experiencing the shock of the Hyksos attack on her village as a child.
I wish we’d had defenders like Sahure when the enemy swept down upon us that day.

 
She’d never met anyone like Sahure before, certainly not in her rural village. He was so far above anyone in the town, in rank, knowledge and accomplishments, even the headman and the captain of the guard. Yet he wasn’t boastful or mocking.

At times he spoke of his hopes for the future, for rising in Pharaoh’s service, maybe even becoming a provincial governor himself someday. Tyema thought he could probably achieve whatever he set his mind to. In her admiring viewpoint, Sahure was destined for a great future. He was smart, with the all important family connections to leverage at Court.

But try as Sahure might, Tyema would never tell him anything of herself, beyond a bare recitation of how many sisters and nieces and nephews she had, or the latest news about the temple’s business. Deflecting questions was second nature to her. A self protective instinct took over her tongue, or so it seemed, and she soon made the other person forget whatever they’d asked her, sidetracked into answering Tyema’s artless questions about them. But Sahure was persistent.

“Yes, I can see how highly interesting one might find the fact the grain harvest is twice as big this year as last year’s,” he said after one such conversation, “But what does it mean for you? Will you buy a new dress? Travel to the nomarch’s capital for the winter festival?” He toyed with a loose curl of her hair. “What do you do for you?”

She rubbed her fingers over her emerald crocodile amulet, hanging from a gold chain around her neck. Sobek himself had given it to her when she reached fifteen, creating the charm in the blink of an eye from one of his tears, the god’s powers carving the stone with ease. “You don’t understand.”

“Make me understand then,” Sahure said, sitting up and taking her hand. “So far all I see is you working your heart out for the benefit of the crocodile god and while he’s been good to your village, how does the extra time and work you put in make you happy?”

“My life is so much better now than when I was a child.” She withdrew her hand, got up from the blanket they were sitting on and walked down the shore to the Nile. “Why do you care?” she asked over her shoulder.