“Secret from your King?” Qa’a asked, his temper rising.
“My Master, we keep nothing secret from Horus or his brother. In this case we weighed the words of Anhotek carefully, that there are no walls so thin as those in the palace. We thought it best to simply keep this quiet until Merkha returned. If I have erred, I apologize and seek your forgiveness.” This seemed to placate Qa’a, who appeared lost in thought.
“In any event, Master, we have made a decision on how best to advise you.”
“And that is?”
“War.” Khenemet allow the word to sink in before continuing.
Qa’a’s breath stopped for a moment and when he recovered he breathed in with a long, jagged breath. “Go on,” he said, leaning against the railing.
“My King, the Delta festers again, like a huge boil ready to break open and spread its pus at the slightest provocation. It may come from any quarter and then we will be at the mercy of events that they will create. We urge you to take control of events and not allow them to control you.
“Mobilize your army. Akhet is nearly over anyway. Call all the workers back and send them off to war. General Nebibi’s regular army is highly trained and you will be surrounded by your King’s Guard troops.
“March to the Delta and crush the opposition as you go,” he said, squeezing his fist into a ball. “Crush Dep as God-King Narmer once did, may we whisper his name for all eternity. They cannot possibly mobilize in time to oppose you. You will show your bull form to those who might oppose you in the future. Through this you will mortar your rule and once again gloriously unify Kem.” Khenemet was nearly out of breath when he finished. He stared at the King.
“Do you both agree with this?” Qa’a asked, looking from Buikkhu to me. We both nodded. For a long time Qa’a paced back and forth, staring at the floor.
“War… that is a grave responsibility. If I did decide to move ahead, you would join my war council.” Qa’a said, looking at Khenemet.
“I would only be in the way. I beg you to allow me to serve by other means. Besides, General Nebibi should choose who he wishes to have on the council, with your approval, of course.”
Qa’a read the surprise on my face. “Do you not agree with your Chief?” I sat silently, recalling Khenemet’s warnings to me. “I command you to speak, Merkha!” Khenemet stared at me and nodded.
“I just wish to ask my superior if he does not feel the holy scrolls of all the battles we have fought since Scorpion would not be of value. That is knowledge that the Chief Priest possesses.”
“I know little in matters of war strategy or tactics, Merkha. I understand your concern, but in this case I have weighed the options and I would be of little help. We have the advantages of a trained, standing army, weak opposition, and an excellent General.” He answered exactly as we had rehearsed.
“I would agree,” Qa’a stated firmly. “Make plans. And call for Nebibi at once.”
The next three months were like swirling mut desert winds. No one stood still in Inabu-hedj as we prepared for war. Word came from Nomti, through Urshte, that at least three caravans carrying supplies had been attacked, the supplies destroyed and all people in the caravan killed by gutting. His workers were in a panic and he was relieved to dismiss them early and to return home himself to recuperate from his wounds.
Caravans of supplies arrived daily with foods for the soldiers and they were quickly dispersed and stored under Nebibi’s direction. He had gained weight over the years and his paunch hung over his leather belt as he barked orders to his soldiers.
Khenemet was kept busy overseeing the courts that made determinations about where to assign able-bodied men. Buikkhu organized the medical priests that would accompany the army.
I had already received confused reports from my new spies in the Delta. Some said that the Delta was preparing for battle. Others said that panic had set in over the impending war. Still others swore that they had seen Ta-Tjehenu and Assyrians in Dep conferring with various wealthy merchants.
Nebibi wisely sent a cadre of three hundred well-trained and fully armed soldiers to Dep immediately, to strengthen the garrison there. With their arrival, in excess of five hundred soldiers were now housed there and in constant readiness. Nebibi knew that he might have to call on them to fight from the rear.
On the third day of the second month of Proyet, as farmers tended their fields and fishermen cast their nets, their sons were part of the six thousand and seven hundred soldiers under the command of General Nebibi that left Inabu-hedj. An armada of boats such as had not been seen for generations amassed in the harbor. Of Kem’s thirty nomes, only the five that represented the Delta did not send soldiers. This fact alone angered Qa’a greatly.
“If they will not send men to defend the Two Lands from the usurpers in their midst, they have no understanding of unity,” Qa’a said in a war council before departing. “I swear in Horus’ name, they will become one with us under my sandal!”
Nebibi’s plan was carefully crafted, for his experience in the field preventing incursions from the Ta-Tjehenus taught him the importance of preparation. The boats proceeded ahead of us, laden with supplies that would be ready at each encampment.
For this task, Qa’a had persuaded Nomti to help Nebibi. By now Nomti had recovered from his broken ribs and, although slowed down considerably, was back to work. Soon General Nebibi felt comfortable enough to hand off the entire task of supplying the army to Nomti, who was given his own boat by the King, shared with Urshte, Mhotep and his other assistants.
Along the shore roads, soldiers marched four abreast, carrying only their daggers and maces. Heavier swords and spears were carried on donkeys in the rear of each group of one hundred men.
In the midst of these columns, the King sat in his chair, hoisted by an ever-changing group of carriers who were, in turn, surrounded by his King’s Guard. The Guardsmen were dressed in full military gear, their white kilts, their leather belts and their leather shields with gold centers resplendent under Ra’s light. Each night their pages brushed sand dust from their kilts and oiled their leather so that the King would be properly honored.
Beer was plentiful and every night the King drank with his Guards, on many a night far too much. But on one of the nights, rather than drink with his men, Qa’a called me to his tent.
“Ah, Merkha, events have made it so that we have not even had time to talk alone, as in the old days.” He sat with his favorite cat, Bastet, a pure black animal adorned with a braided gold collar. He hardly noticed my presence, content as he was with the King’s petting. He purred contentedly.
“You have many more responsibilities than you did when you were my student,” I offered.
“Yes, that is surely true,” he responded, sipping slowly from his mug. “But tonight I want to discuss with you what you found out in the Delta. Are there suitable Second wives for me?” I hesitated for a long moment.
“I know you are concerned. Things do not go well with me and Amisi. She is wrapped up in Banafrit’s care and has no room in her heart for me, Horus’ brother be damned! I am a prisoner in my own palace. I feel like a caged animal.” I felt embarrassed for Qa’a, yet satisfied that he confided in me.
“I have recorded many names of likely matches,” I said. “I am checking them against what you have asked. I will soon get reports on how she looks and make sure she is not overly heavy like so many Delta women. I must make sure that she brings strong alliances with her. This will take a while, Master.”
Qa’a looked away then. “Master, ha! I feel like I am merely the puppet of all who surround me. You must appear here for this ceremony, you must decide this dispute, you cannot take just any woman to meet your manly needs. Now I am off to war. I lead hundreds of men to their deaths and thousands more to be maimed. Why, Merkha?” Bastet stopped purring and put his ears up in attention.
I breathed in deeply and sighed a big sigh. “Oh, my dear Qa’a! Who knows the answer to these mysteries. We are put here
by the gods for their amusement and we simply do our best. In honoring them we honor ourselves. You are not the first King to mourn his fate.”
“And I will not be the last to attempt to change it, Merkha. I swear to my brother that I will crush these Lower Kemians such that they will not plot and rebel against us again… ever!” With Qa’a’s raised voice, Bastet jumped from his lap and retreated to his bed in the corner.
It was not half a ten-day later that the army got its first chance to prove the King’s determination. As we marched along a path bounded on one side by Mother Nile and the other by tall cliffs, suddenly a barrage of stones and spears rained down upon the lead group of soldiers. In the immediate mayhem, thirty soldiers were killed and many more injured. Confusion reigned and soldiers ran back and forth, trying to escape the onslaught on the narrow road. Some men jumped into the water, attracting a horde of crocodiles. The carnage turned the water in that cove blood red, their screams curdling the blood of all who witnessed the grisly scene.
General Nebibi, some three hundred cubits from the action, began to shout orders. In minutes his captains cleared the road of our soldiers, while two other groups ran far to the front and rear to climb the cliffs. They were repelled by the enemy, who taunted them, laughing, as they picked them off with boulders and spears. Those of our soldiers who managed to ascend the cliff were immediately struck by the swords of the enemy, who we now realized were mercenary Ta-Tjehenus.
Nebibi sent messengers running far to the rear and a captain immediately mobilized his men to ascend a gentle rise that led to the top of the cliffs. In an hour the fighting was over and twenty-five of the Ta-Tjehenus lay dead, while the remainder escaped into the desert. That such a small force could create such havoc on us did not go unnoticed by Nebibi and Qa’a.
From that point on, Nebibi sent advance scouts along every possible route, and on many of them minor skirmishes erupted. But Nebibi developed an interesting battle plan, creating small groups of ten soldiers each, trained by the King’s Guard, that could mobilize quickly and engage the enemy. These forces were staged ahead, behind and at intervals mixed in within our ranks.
The army was on edge as we advanced. Soldiers are miserable beasts, and the slightest look from an aggrieved man toward another, a perceived difference in rations, or an unkind remark would spark a fight.
As we entered the main tributary of the Delta, a new enemy besieged us. Every evening, as Ra descended in the heaven, a horde of muts, mosquitos and biting flies with horrid green heads, tortured us without mercy. The medical priests brewed pot after pot of foul smelling potions for the men. Those who were too eager to show their manliness did not apply the potions and during the day looked as if they carried a plague from distant lands, so pimpled and bloody were they with inflamed insect bites and unrelenting itching. Most of the soldiers scratched their private areas incessantly, for they feared putting the potion near their manliness and when they urinated at night they were bitten. At times I looked ahead at the marching soldiers and could see half of them with their hands under their kilts.
The heat of late Proyet was upon us and if we did not finish our business soon, the merciless inferno of Shomu would soon follow. The men were exhausted by their march and their difficult slog through the marshy areas of the Delta. But their exhaustion was soon to be tested, for around a bend in the grass-lined tributary lay a deadly trap that soon ensnared us.
SCROLL TWENTY-TWO
To Win the Battle or the War?
Urshte
Rowing down Mother Nile’s lush shores in the Delta is mesmerizing. Her waters slow down as they spread out in their final push to Wadj-Wer with its slightly rising and receding tides. Trees and bushes begin to appear whereas before there was only a thin ribbon of green and unending views of desert. Crocodiles lounged peacefully under Ra’s fierce rays.
I, too, relaxed and joked with Nomti and Mhotep. We called across the transom to Merkha and his scribes in the boat besides us. We were in the back of the fleet, near to the boats used by the King’s Guard which surrounded Qa’a’s own Royal barge.
I wondered how the soldiers before us felt, having endured nearly a month of marches, rowing, sleeping in difficult conditions and other miseries. To now have Ra’s rays upon them, and a gentle breeze blowing in from Wadj-Wer, it is easy to see, in retrospect, how our soldiers were lulled into complacency.
It happened quickly. After a third of our boats passed a grass-covered promontory that jutted out from the shore, suddenly the grass came alive. But this grass did not grow from the marshy soil. Instead it came from headdresses that Ta-Tjehenu warriors wore. It took many moments for our warriors to react to this sight, so confused were they by what had happened. By then it was too late. In the space of a few minutes, the enemy let loose a volley of spears and arrows that found their mark with great effect.
Dead and wounded soldiers fell from their boats. Others jumped into the water to escape the rain of death that came from both sides of the bank. The piercing war cries of the Ta-Tjehenus filled the air, pulsing into our ears with a deafening sound.
The waters here were shallow, so General Nebibi gave the order for men to abandon their boats and rush to help those who were under attack. The soldiers responded quickly and soon were up to their chests, trying their best in the thick mud to advance to higher ground. It was then that the nightmare truly began.
From each embankment I noticed a wide and deep trench had been dug, covered with grasses so that they were well hidden. At a signal from their leader, a stocky man, who looked like a marsh dweller struck his sword at the lashings of a reed pen that imprisoned an enemy more horrific than any human soldier. With three strokes, the pen gave way and dozens of slithering crocodiles emerged. That they had not been fed in at least a ten-day I assumed at once. A marsh dweller across the bank did the same with his pen of serpents.
Until the day that I pass to the next life, and perhaps well into the eternal one, I will remember those terrible moments. At first all eyes not doing battle were transfixed on the gates, trying to comprehend the incomprehensible. Shocked silence prevailed until Nebibi screamed for his soldiers to kill the swordsmen. But they had already accomplished their evil deeds before a spear pierced one’s throat and the other ran away.
The crocodiles did their job all too well. To this day I still ponder the mystery of why the gods placed such efficient killers in our midst. Some beasts swam on the surface, while others dropped to the bottom immediately, the claws in their scaly arms propelling them forward. Nebibi was frantic now, yelling orders to his men to get back to their boats or make it to the safety of shore.
As we watched in horror, the first soldier was struck as he struggled to pull himself up a slippery bank. A marsh dweller was about to loose an arrow at our soldier, but then relaxed his pull. A huge crocodile burst out of the shallow water, his jaws agape. He flew through the air, rivulets of water streaming from his hideously pocked body, and grabbed hold of the man by his midsection. Blood spurted everywhere as the beast’s monstrous jaws bit him nearly in two and dragged him under the water. In the feeding frenzy that followed he was ripped apart. We watched in horror as a smaller crocodile swam away with the poor man’s arm protruding from his mouth.
Similar scenes repeated themselves up and down the shoreline. Men who swam frantically back to their boats were pulled under, never to be seen whole again. The water around us ran with a red froth. In their attempt to spear a crocodile and save one of their colleagues, one boat capsized and twenty three men were lost. By time the crocodiles finished feasting the enemy was gone, running along a path they had prepared that wound through the swampy land.
There was nothing to be done but make camp downstream. That night the Horus priest physicians treated the wounded and I saw that Merkha and Nomti had joined them to console the dying. The weapons pages were charged with the grisly task of retrieving arms, legs, torsos and heads that floated downstream and came to rest on the banks. Nebibi was adamant th
at our soldiers not be reminded of what had happened as we continued our journey. Other soldiers took it upon themselves to kill whatever crocodiles they could. They slit open the beasts and retrieved body parts of their comrades, so that the war dead could be buried properly, even if with hands or feet belonging to someone else.
In that one engagement we lost one hundred and eleven men. Far worse was the toll it took on the remaining soldiers, for to relive that day in one’s memory was a lifetime curse. That night Merkha sat with me and spoke to me of his anger that none had counseled General Nebibi about King Narmer’s journey into the Delta marshes as recorded by the revered Anhotek. Generations ago the warriors of King W’ash had used similar tactics as Narmer’s army moved toward Dep in the Battle of Unification. Employing those same actions against us was designed to send King Qa’a a message. The Ta-Tjehenus we saw, aided by some locals, were merely the messengers.
Qa'a (The First Dynasty Book 3) Page 28
