by Wilbur Smith
He threw up his hands with frustration. ‘How does it feel always to be right, Taita?’
‘Strange at first; however, one eventually becomes accustomed to it,’ I assured him.
On the twentieth day of my vigil I drove my flock out through the south gate of the city as soon as the guards opened them, which was at sunrise. By this time I was a familiar figure and they waved me through with barely a glance. My curly-horned ram knew the road up into the hills and he led us out of the city precincts. This particular road was usually avoided by the citizenry of Luxor who considered it bad luck, for they knew whither it led. My flock and I had the hills to ourselves, until we reached the first sharp bend, which was surrounded by thick forest on both sides. We were given very little warning: just the clatter of hooves and the rumble of bronze-clad wheels, before a column of five chariots came charging at us around the bend. They were heading in the opposite direction to us, back towards the city of Luxor. The leading vehicle ran into my sheep at a gallop, breaking the neck of my ram and killing him outright, but also shattering the front legs of one of my ewes. The poor beast was down and bleating piteously. I had grown rather fond of my little flock and I ran forward to protest and give full vent to my outrage.
However, the driver of the leading chariot was cursing me and my ‘filthy animals’, and laying about him with his rawhide whip. When I appeared he threw the hood of his black gown back over his shoulders to reveal the hideous features of Doog the Terrible. He had not recognized me with my scruffy beard and long snarled hair, and my filthy and tattered attire, but to be certain I turned my face away from him and set about dragging the carcass of my ram out of the road and dispatching the wounded ewe with a rock that I picked up from the roadside. Once the road was clear Doog drove his chariot past, giving me another lash with his whip over my semi-naked back. I whimpered pathetically as the second chariot in line raced by me. But then I gawked at the passenger in the third chariot as it came level with me.
Her head was shaven, and she had been beaten until her face was swollen and bruised, and her one eye was almost closed. She wore a short tunic which was torn and stained with dried blood and other indeterminate filth. But she was still far and away the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes upon.
Serrena glanced at me where I stood beside the path. We were separated by merely two or three arms’ lengths. For a brief instant she did not recognize me in my ragged disguise, but then her expression changed abruptly. Both her eyes widened with shock and joy, even the one with the swollen lid. Her lips formed my name, but without uttering a sound. I frowned a subtle warning at her, and she instantly restrained herself and cast her eyes down. Then the chariot in which she rode was past. Serrena did not look back at me or give any further sign of recognition, except that her shoulders no longer drooped with despair and her shaven head was held higher. An aura of renewed hope seemed to enfold her, which was apparent even from this distance.
My own spirits were uplifted, not least by the glimpse I had caught of her unfettered hands. For every one of her fingers was patently intact and undamaged. Utteric’s attempted deception was exposed. Furthermore, I knew the damage that had been inflicted on her lovely face would soon heal miraculously, for hers is divine flesh.
I stood in an attitude of meek and hopeless submission until Doog’s convoy of chariots disappeared over the next ridge, then I let out a great shout of joy and pranced around in a circle like a lunatic, hurling my shepherd’s crook into the air. It took me a short while to regain my poise, and then I retrieved my crook from where I had thrown it and set off at a run back towards the city. My borrowed flock of sheep panicked at my sudden departure and they ran after me, bleating with distress. But I was the first to get back to Weneg’s wine shop, beating my flock by a good length.
I found Weneg and Rameses in the secret basement beneath the wine store, where Weneg kept the equipment associated with his true purpose for remaining in Luxor, so close to Utteric’s royal palace. These included the cages of pigeons that carried our messages to and fro between Lacedaemon and Luxor and a large supply of bows, arrows and various other weapons.
‘I have found her!’ I shouted as I burst in upon the two of them.
They looked up at me in astonishment, and demanded in unison as they sprang to their feet: ‘Who?’
‘Serrena!’ I exulted. ‘Who else is there?’
‘Tell me.’ Rameses rushed towards me. ‘Where is she?’ He seized me by the shoulders and shook me. ‘Is she well? Have they hurt her? How soon can …’
I had to wait for the uproar to subside before I could make myself heard. ‘Doog has her in the Gates of Torment. He was transporting her in a convoy of chariots in this direction …’ Quickly I explained that Doog was in all probability escorting her to Utteric’s palace here in Luxor for further harsh questioning. Then I went on to give my informed opinion as to what future they would have in store for Serrena.
‘They have beaten and maltreated her. Her face and arms are bruised and battered, but they don’t seem to have inflicted permanent damage on her. Contrary to their threats they don’t seem to have amputated any of her fingers or any other bodily parts. There is nothing the matter with her eyesight or her mind. She is alert and in full control of all her faculties. This all makes sense, because she is much too valuable to Utteric as a hostage for him ever to allow his thugs to inflict real damage on her.’ I managed to placate Rameses and Weneg, and to quieten them down so they were ready to listen to my good sense.
‘This is probably the best, if not the only opportunity we will ever get to free Serrena from captivity; and to get her away to a place of safety. Once she is locked behind the Gates of Torment and Sorrow she will be completely beyond our reach. You can take my word on this. I have been there and I know!’ Neither of them gave me an argument, but Rameses’ expression was riven with a strange mixture of hope and foreboding.
‘Tell us what we must do,’ he pleaded.
‘This is how I see it,’ I put it to them. ‘We know that at this moment Serrena is outside the walls of sorrow. For whatever reasons his crazed mind has dreamed up, or probably just to gloat over her and humiliate her further, Utteric has ordered Doog to bring her to his palace. Almost certainly Doog is planning to have her back behind the Gates of Torment and Sorrow before nightfall this evening. So at some time between noon and sunset today Doog will be returning along the same road to his lair as the one on which he and I met this morning.’ I turned back to Weneg and asked him, ‘How many good and reliable men can you bring me before noon today?’
Weneg pondered my question for no longer than a few moments, counting silently on his fingers. Then he was ready with a reply. ‘Twelve for certain,’ he said. ‘Fifteen with a little luck, but all of them are deadly enemies of Utteric and good hard fighters. However, I don’t know how many of them will have their own horses.’
I nodded. ‘As long as they have weapons, I know where we will be able to find the horses. So, we will be fairly evenly matched with Doog’s ruffians, but we will have the vital element of surprise in our favour.’
‘One thing is for sure, we will achieve nothing by sitting here and chattering to each other like a gaggle of old women.’ Rameses was pacing the floor of the cellar in his agitation. He was almost as distressed by Serrena’s predicament and excited by the prospect of her release to freedom as I was. However, I lingered a little longer to retrieve from under the pile of wine jugs where I had secreted it the gift I had brought with me from Tehuti in the citadel of Lacedaemon to be given to her beloved daughter. I strapped it to my back beneath the tattered and filthy folds of my tunic where it would be hidden from casual scrutiny.
I gave Weneg a list of essential items that he and his recruits must bring with them. Then we agreed to meet at the stone bridge over the stream where it ran down from the hills half a league beyond the point where I had enjoyed my recent encounter with Doog. I impressed upon him that every one of our party must be there
at the very latest an hour before noon. I knew this was an impossible deadline for them to meet, but I set it so as to dissuade them from dawdling along the way.
The remainder of my faithful flock of sheep were waiting for me in the yard behind the wine shop, and we set off once more through the south gate of the city at a leisurely pace. Of course I and my sheep were the first to reach the appointed rendezvous at the bridge over the stream, but it was not too long after that the rest of Weneg’s warriors began to arrive. As I had required of him, they came singly or in pairs so as not to draw particular attention to themselves. Of course, they were all fully armed as was only judicious and prudent for small parties travelling abroad in these turbulent times.
Naturally enough not all of them made the deadline I had set. It was mid-afternoon before the last of them arrived at the assembly point. But finally I had a total of thirteen armed and formidable warriors concealed in the forest on each side of the road leading up to the stone bridge over the stream.
All of these men had served under me in at least one of the campaigns which we had fought against the Hyksos, and every one of them recognized me at once and expressed their delight at our reunion. It was not necessary to rehearse them more than once in their part in the forthcoming ambush. They had done it all before, and that right well.
I had taken up my own position at a vantage point from where I had a fine view back along the road to the city of Luxor. I admit that I was becoming restless when at last we saw below us the dust cloud thrown up by the approaching column of chariots as they left the city and climbed the foothills towards where we waited. They passed the spot lower down where Doog and I had exchanged pleasantries that morning, and when they came on, it was with increased speed and assurance. I knew that this was because in the back of his suspicious mind Doog had probably been troubled by our earlier encounter. But now he was reassured, and his guard was lowered. I had taken this into consideration when I made my dispositions. Careful forethought is often the hallmark of the true genius.
They came into my trap at a trot, shouting repartee at each other and encouragement to their horses. I saw that they were once again carrying Serrena in the third chariot. I was depending on that, and I had placed myself further back in my line of attack so I could be one of the first to reach her.
The first vehicle passed us with its occupants looking ahead. They were oblivious to our presence in the thick undergrowth that lined the verges of the road. Doog, dressed in his black cloak, followed it on to the bridge in the second vehicle. Then Serrena drew level with me in the third chariot, and my heart raced as she passed so close to me without being aware of my presence. Finally the fourth and last chariot rumbled out on to the flimsy structure of the bridge.
Now they were all committed. There was no space on the narrow causeway for any of the four chariots to make a one-eighty-degree turn and try to escape the trap that I had laid for them.
Using two fingers between my lips, I let out the shrill whistle, which was my agreed attack signal. It is a sound that I have perfected. At close quarters it is deafening. But even in the uproar of battle it can be clearly heard at extraordinary distances. My men had been expecting it. They reacted instantly.
I had placed my two hammer-men on the far side of the bridge. They were crouching below the superstructure, one on each side of the causeway. At my whistle they jumped out of hiding and darted forward, the massive flint-stone hammers with which they were armed poised. With one or two heavy blows they shattered the spokes in both the wheels of the leading chariot. The wheels collapsed. The driver and his crew were taken completely by surprise and hurled from the carriage. The wreckage of their vehicle blocked egress from the bridge. All three of the following chariots piled up behind each other.
I led the charge on to the bridge. Our war cries further confused the drivers and startled their horses. They reared wildly and tangled the carriage traces. One animal lost its footing, crashed through the railing and fell over the side of the bridge. It dangled in space, kicking and squealing shrilly with terror and anchoring the other animals in its team. The charioteers were bellowing at each other to clear the bridge, but Doog bellowed loudest of them all. All of them were plunged into pandemonium and panic.
In my right hand I had the gift that Queen Tehuti had given me to convey to her daughter. I had drawn it from its sheath, and the blue metal of its blade glinted in the sunlight, sharper than any other metal in existence and as deadly as doom itself.
‘Serrena!’ I screamed her name above the uproar. She spun around and saw me.
‘Tata!’ she cried. ‘I knew you would come.’ Her beauty seemed to take wing, and it galvanized me.
‘Catch!’ I swung the blue sword once around my head and then let it fly. She reached up to the full stretch of her right arm and snatched it out of the air as it passed above her. Then she placed her free hand on the coaming of the chariot and swung her legs out over the side. She dropped to the narrow causeway of the bridge as lightly as a sunbird settling on a bloom, and darted forward.
‘Doog!’ she called to him, giving that obscenely ugly name a beautiful lilting cadence. Doog could not help himself but turn to look back at her. She ran at him lightly, her bare feet scarcely brushing the ground. Doog saw the bright steel in her hand and he knew he could never draw his own weapon in time to defend himself. He knew it was death he saw coming at him. He cowered down behind the coaming of his chariot, treacherous coward to the end. She jumped high in the air and at the top of her leap she stabbed down over the coaming into his back. I saw the blue blade slip half its length into the black robe that he wore. Doog uttered a great shout of agony and involuntarily threw back his head. His face was contorted, making it even uglier than I had ever seen it before.
With a graceful gesture Serrena withdrew the blade of the blue sword from the wound. It was dulled with Doog’s blood for half its length. But now she had it perfectly poised for the back-hand stroke. She pirouetted, and the blade in her hand seemed to dissolve in a blur of sunlight.
Doog’s head leaped from his shoulders and tumbled to the floorboards of the chariot. For a long moment his headless corpse remained kneeling, and then abruptly a fountain of bright blood erupted from the stump of his neck. Doog’s headless corpse collapsed behind the coaming of the chariot.
‘Come on, lads!’ I shouted at my stalwarts who were still paralysed with shock at Serrena’s magical sword-play. ‘Let’s deal with the rest of this scum.’ I pointed my blade at the surviving chariot crews.
‘No, Taita!’ Serrena stopped me with her urgent cry. ‘Leave them be! They are good and honourable men. They saved me from the unspeakable atrocities that Doog would have had them perpetrate upon me.’
I saw the relief blossom on the faces of our captives. They knew just how close they had come to death.
‘You scoundrels should give humble thanks to Her Royal Highness for every day you remain alive,’ I scolded them, but with a faint smile on my lips to mitigate the severity of my words. Then there was a mighty shout of her name from the rear of the column.
‘Serrena! I know it is you! I heard your voice. I would recognize it anywhere, at any time!’ And Prince Rameses came running forward from his battle station at the rear of the column.
Serrena, the mighty swordswoman who moments before had despatched the dreaded Doog, squealed as though she had stood on a live coals with her bare feet: ‘Rameses! Rameses! I thought that you must still be in Lacedaemon. Oh, I give humble thanks to Horus and Hathor that you have come to rescue and protect me!’
The lovers rushed together and embraced with such fervour and disregard of ought else in this world that the blades of their weapons clashed together and their teeth were probably subjected to the same impetuous treatment. I was mortified but not surprised to see that Serrena was unashamedly weeping and Rameses was not far from tears. I turned away and left them to get themselves under control, while I readied the others for the next phase of our offensive.
I disposed of Doog’s corpse by the simple expedient of heaving it over the bridge rail into the river below. However, I retained his severed head, which I stuffed into a horse’s nosebag to be dealt with later. Of course I kept his hooded black robes for immediate use. These were too commodious for my lean, well-proportioned body; however, I bulked them out with his undergarments, which were still wet with the blood Serrena had tapped from him. We were obliged to abandon the one chariot with the smashed wheel spokes; thus the remaining three vehicles were heavily laden when we set off once more for the Gates of Torment and Sorrow. Added to the original crews we were now carrying Weneg’s thirteen together with myself and Rameses. Fortunately we were not far from our destination and when the gradient became severe there were plenty of willing hands to get down and push.
We reached the prison as the sun was just touching the western horizon. I sat on the cross bench of the leading chariot with my arms folded pompously across my chest and the black hood drawn down to mask my features. Close behind me stood Serrena in her prison garb, with her wrists tied ostentatiously in front of her. She is a consummate actress, and appeared thoroughly forlorn and desolate. However, the slip knot that bound her wrists could be released in an instant with a tug of her sharp white teeth; and the blue sword lay at her feet, concealed under a layer of loose straw. Rameses stood close behind both of us, with his sword sheathed and his face concealed by a bronze war helmet borrowed from one of our friendly guards. His handsome features were well remembered and beloved in Egypt as the favourite of Pharaoh Tamose’s many offspring, but now was not the time to display them abroad.
I had timed our arrival at the Gates of Torment and Sorrow for the setting of the sun when visibility was minimal. The gates were not immediately opened to us by the guards, who were mainly the brothers, sons and nephews of the now departed Doog. They shouted suspicious questions down at us about the discrepancy between the numbers of the men and vehicles which had driven out that morning and those which were returning now. Several members of our party tried simultaneously to explain the loss of one of our chariots in the gorge, the number of men who had died in that disaster, and the additional men that Pharaoh Utteric had supposedly sent from Luxor to increase the garrison owing to the importance of the recently captured prisoner: namely Princess Serrena of Lacedaemon.
