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Authors: Mika Waltari

The Egyptian (66 page)

BOOK: The Egyptian
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Horemheb took the enemy entirely by surprise. With their knowledge of Egypt’s weakness they could not conceive how he dared to attack across the desert while their troops were harrying the Lower Kingdom. Their main forces were scattered among the cities and villages of Syria in the expectation of Gaza’s surrender, because the regions thereabout could not support the colossal army the Hittites had assembled in Syria for the conquest of Egypt. They were exceedingly thorough in their warfare and never attacked until they had assured themselves of their superiority. Their commanders had noted on their clay tablets every grazing ground, every watering place, and every village in the area they intended to attack. Because of these preparations they had postponed their invasion and were thunderstruck at Horemheb’s move, partly because never yet had anyone dared assail them first and partly because they had not believed that Egypt possessed chariots enough for so great an enterprise.

Horemheb’s purpose had been at most to destroy the Hittite water store in the desert, to gain time for the ordered training and equipment of his men. But his amazing success intoxicated him; he whirled on like the wind to Gaza, fell on the besiegers in their rear and scattered them, destroyed their engines of war and set their camps on fire. Yet he could not go into the city. When the besiegers saw how few were his chariots, they rallied and counterattacked. He would have been lost had these troops had chariots also. As it was he was able to withdraw into the desert, having destroyed the water stores on the fringe of it before the infuriated Hittites could call up chariots enough to pursue him.

Horemheb rightly augured from this that his falcon was with him. Remembering the burning tree he had once seen among the Sinai hills, he sent word to his javelin throwers and archers, ordering them to advance in forced marches across the desert along one of the roads constructed by the Hittites, where stood hundreds of thousands of earthenware jars containing water enough to supply a large body of foot soldiers. His purpose now was to fight in the desert, although the ground was better suited to chariot warfare. I think he had no choice, for after his flight from the Hittites his men and horses were so exhausted that they could hardly have reached the Lower Kingdom alive. Therefore he summoned his whole army into the desert, which was an act without precedent.

I got this account of Horemheb’s first attack on the Hittites from him and from his men; I was not with him. If I had been, I should assuredly never have lived to write this. It fell to me to survey the traces of the struggle from my carrying chair as I followed the foot regiments on their forced marches through the scorching dust, beneath the glare of the pitiless sun.

When we had toiled across the wilderness for two weeks, which, despite the plentiful supplies of water, were exhausting enough, we saw one night a pillar of fire rising from a hill beyond the desert and knew that Horemheb awaited us there with his chariots. This night has stayed in my memory, because I could not sleep. Darkness brings chill to the desert after the burning day, and men who have marched barefoot through sand and prickly plants for weeks cry out in their sleep and groan as if tormented by demons. It is for this reason no doubt that men believe the desert to be full of such beings. At dawn the horns rang out, and the march continued, although ever more men sank down unable to rise. Horemheb’s beacon called us, and from every quarter of the desert small groups of ragged, sun-blackened robbers and guerrilla fighters hurried toward the fiery signal.

If our troops hoped for time to rest when they arrived at Horemheb’s camp, they were to be sorely disappointed. If they believed he might commend them for their rapid march and for having worn the skin from their feet in the sand, they were indeed deluded. He received us with rage in his face; his eyes were bloodshot with weariness.

Swinging the golden whip, which was flecked with blood and dust, he said to us, “Where have you been loitering, dung beetles? Where have you skulked, you devils’ spawn? Truly I should rejoice to see your skulls whiten in the sand tomorrow; I am so filled with shame at the sight of you! You creep to me like tortoises; you smell of sweat and filth so that I am compelled to hold my nose, while my best men bleed from countless wounds and my noble horses pant their last. Dig now, you men of Egypt, dig for your lives! This is work most fitting for you who have dug all your lives in the mud.”

The raw warriors of Egypt were in no way resentful of his words but rejoiced at them and repeated them laughing to one another, having found protection from the terrifying wilderness in the mere presence of Horemheb. They forgot their flayed soles and parched tongues and began at his direction to dig deep trenches in the ground, to drive stakes between stones, to stretch rush ropes between these stakes, and to roll and drag huge stones down the slopes of the hills.

Horemheb’s weary charioteers crept out from their crannies and tents and limped up to display their wounds and boast of their prowess. Of the two thousand five hundred who had set out there remained not five hundred fit men.

The greater part of the army arrived at Horemheb’s encampment that day in an unbroken stream. Each man was sent immediately to dig trenches and build barricades, to keep the Hittites from the desert. He sent word to those exhausted troops that had not yet arrived that all must reach the fortified position in the course of that night. Any left in the desert at daybreak would die a fearful death at the hands of the enemy, should the chariots of these break through.

The courage of the Egyptians was notably strengthened at the sight of their own numbers in that empty wilderness, and they placed blind trust in Horemheb, confident that he would save them from the Hittites. But as they were building their barricades, stretching their ropes and rolling their rocks, they beheld the enemy approaching in a cloud of dust. With white faces and wavering glances they looked about them, in great dread of the chariots and their hideous scythes.

Night was drawing on, and the Hittites would not attack before they had surveyed the terrain or estimated the strength of their adversary. They pitched camp, tended their horses, and kindled fires. When darkness fell, the fringe of the desert was spangled with fires as far as the eye could see. All night long their scouts drove up to the barricades in light chariots, slaying guards and skirmishing along the whole front. But on either flank, where no barricades could be built, the ruffians of the free forces surprised the Hittites and captured their chariots and horses.

The night was loud with the thunder of wheels, the shrieks of the dying, the whine of arrows, and the clash of arms. The raw troops were sorely alarmed and dared not sleep. But Horemheb comforted them, saying, “Sleep, marsh rats, sleep! rest and smear you torn feet with oil, for I am watching over your slumbers, to guard you.”

I did not sleep; I walked about the camp all night, dressing the wounds of Horemheb’s charioteers, while he encouraged me, saying, “Heal them, Sinuhe, with all your arts. More valiant warriors the world has never seen; each of them is worth a hundred or even a thousand of those mud grubbers. Heal them, for I dearly love these scum of mine, and I have no trained men to put in their places.”

I was out of humor from the toilsome journey across the desert, although I had performed it in a chair. My throat was dry with the acrid dust, and I was enraged to think that because of Horemheb’s foolish obstinacy I must die at the hands of the Hittites, although death in itself held no terrors for me.

I said to him irritably, “I seek to heal these scum of yours purely for my own sake since to my mind they are the only men in the army capable of fighting. Those who came with me will fly as soon as they see the whites of enemy eyes. You would do well to pick out the swiftest horses and speed back with me to the Lower Kingdom, to muster a new and better army.”

Horemheb rubbed his nose and said, “Your counsel does honor to your wisdom. But we have no choice save to defeat the Hittites here in the desert. Defeat them we must, having no alternative. I shall now take my rest and shall drink. After drinking I am ever exceedingly ill tempered and fight well.”

He left me, and soon I heard the gurgling from his wine jar. He offered it to such men of his as passed, slapping them on the shoulder and hailing each by name.

So the night passed, and morning rose like a specter from the desert. Before the barricades lay dead horses and overturned chariots, and vultures were tearing out the eyes of Hittites who had died there. Horns sounded at Horemheb’s order, and he paraded his men at the foot of the slopes.

While the Hittites were smothering their fires with sand, harnessing their horses, and whetting their blades, Horemheb addressed his troops. He bit at a chunk of hard bread and an onion as he did so.

“Look before you, and you shall see a great marvel. Ammon has delivered the Hittites into our hands, and we shall do great things this day. The enemy foot soldiers have not yet come up; they remain at the edge of the desert because they lack water. The chariots must break through our lines and capture the water stores in our rear if the army is to pursue its attack on Egypt. Already their horses are thirsty and lack forage, for I have burned up their stores and smashed their water jars all the way from here to Syria. They must therefore either break through or retire unless they pitch camp to await fresh supplies, in which event they will be unable to engage us in battle. But they are greedy men, and they have invested all the gold and silver in Syria in those water jars that lie strung out behind us, full, all the way to Egypt. They will not give them up without a struggle. Thus Ammon has delivered them into our hands. When they attack, their horses will stumble and entangle themselves in our barriers. They cannot hurl their full force against us, for the trenches you have so diligently dug and the rocks and the ropes will break the edge of their assault.”

Horemheb spat out an onion skin and chewed the bread until the troops began stamping and shouting, like children eager for another story. Then Horemheb said, “My only fear is that in your feebleness you will let the Hittites slip through your fingers. Those rods you hold in your hands are spears whose points are designed to rip up the bellies of Hittites. To the bowmen I say: Were you true warriors and marksmen you would shoot out their eyes. But such counsels are vain. Aim at the horses, for these are bigger targets, and you could never hit the men who drive them. The nearer they come, the more certain will be your unskillful aim; I counsel you to let them come very near. I will flog with my own hands every man who wastes an arrow; we have not one to spare. And you, javelin throwers! When the horses approach, steady the butts of your spears against the ground with both hands and direct the points at the horses’ bellies. In this way you incur no danger and can leap aside before the animal falls on you. Should you be flung to the ground, hamstring them, for only that way can you avoid being crushed by the wheels. This is your task, you rats of the Nile.”

Raising a jar of water to his lips he swallowed a deep draught to clear his head, after which he continued, “Nevertheless, it is a waste of breath to talk to you. When you hear the war cry of the Hittites and the thunder of their chariots you will whimper and hide your heads in the sand, for lack of skirts to creep under. If the Hittites break through to the water supplies in our rear, each one of you is lost and will be lifeless before nightfall, because we shall be surrounded and all retreat cut off. As it is we have no retreat. If we abandon the defenses we have built, the enemy chariots will scatter us like chaff before the wind; I mention this in case any one of you should take it into his head to scuttle off into the desert. We are all in the same boat and have no choice but to defeat the enemy. I will be with you, fighting at your side. Should my whip lash out at you rather than at the Hittites, that will be no fault of mine but yours alone, my valiant rats.”

The men listened to him spellbound. I confess I was growing uneasy, for already the enemy chariots were approaching like distant dust clouds. Yet I believe that Horemheb lingered designedly, to infect the men with his own composure and to spare them the oppressive time of waiting.

At length he glanced out across the desert from his high ledge, raised his hands, and said, “Our friends the Hittites are on their way, for which I give thanks to all the gods of Egypt. Go then, you Nile rats, each man to his allotted station, and let none depart thence unless so ordered. And you others, you my old ruffians, pursue this rabble—shoot over and round them—geld them if need be, should they seek to fly. I might say to you: fight for the gods of Egypt, fight for the Black Land, fight for your wives and children. Run now, boys, run swiftly, or the chariots will have reached the barricades before you, and the battle will be over before it has begun.”

He dismissed them, and they set off at a trot toward the barricades, shouting as they ran, whether from ardor or fear I cannot say. Horemheb followed them at a leisurely pace, but I remained sitting on the slope to watch the battle from a safe distance. I was a physician, and my life was valuable.

The enemy had driven their chariots across the plain to the foot of the hills, where they formed into battle order. Their colorful standards, the gleam of the winged suns on the chariots, and the brilliant woolen cloths that protected the horses from arrows presented a magnificent and most formidable sight. The chariots worked in groups of six, ten of these groups forming one squadron; in all I believe there were sixty squadrons. But the heavy, three-horse chariots, manned by three men, formed the center of their front. I could not conceive how Horemheb’s force were to withstand their assault, for they moved slowly and ponderously, like ships, and demolished everything in their path.

To the sound of horns the enemy captains raised their standards, and the chariots moved off at gradually increasing speed. When they had drawn near to the barricades I saw single horses tearing out between them, each with a rider clinging to its mane and drumming with his heels on the sides of his mount to urge it to still greater speed. I could not imagine why they should send their spare horses in advance, unguarded, until I observed these riders leaning over and cutting away the ropes that had been stretched between the stakes. Other horses galloped straight through the breaches thus formed. Their riders rose up and hurled their spears in such a manner that they remained ftxed upright in the ground, and from the butt end of each floated a bright pennant. This all occurred with the speed of lightning. I failed to catch their purpose, for the horsemen then wheeled about and tore back at full gallop to disappear behind the chariots, although some dropped from their mounts transfixed by arrows, while many horses fell and lay kicking and screaming hideously on the ground.

BOOK: The Egyptian
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