Qa'a (The First Dynasty Book 3)

by Lester Picker

  I smiled. “Prepare yourself for a shock, Nomti.” He sat down, staring hard at me the whole time. “The King will ask you to lead a division of soldiers in battle.”

  “Ha! Try harder to humor me, my friend. I am not falling for that one!”

  That night we arrived at the palace. Nomti had dressed nicely for the occasion, his gold arm band shining brightly in the candlelight. He wore a simple white tunic with the gold-braided belt the King had given him.

  Qa’a, Khenemet and Buikkhu were also dressed in finery, but Nebibi, who had just come from supervising maneuvers, still carried sand and dirt on his body. He smelled of sweat and body odor.

  While we waited for wine after dinner, Khenemet nodded toward Qa’a and the King raised his glass. “A toast, to the health and leadership of you, Nomti, for I have another very special honor for you.” The King was already drunk and slurred his words.

  “My King, you need not honor me any more than I am already. I hardly deserve the honors you have already bestowed upon me.” Qa’a was taken aback by Nomti’s words and appeared confused.

  “But this is not really an honor. It is… more of… an obligation. I wish you to lead a division of infantrymen in our coming war against the Delta.” Silence fell over the room. Khenemet looked down as his page poured wine into his cup. Buikkhu had an odd smirk on his face. Nebibi was obviously angry and he held his lips shut tight. “The General here assures me there is little you will have to do. His captains will handle the actual fighting, assuming the marsh dwellers put up any resistance.”

  Nomti played it well. He looked around the room at Khenemet and Buikkhu, before returning to Qa’a. “I assume you would not joke at my expense, Master. I am merely a businessman after all. I know nothing of the army.”

  “Look at it as an opportunity to broaden your skills to include the business of war,” Khenemet said acidly.

  “Well put!” Nomti responded, hoisting his cup to the air. “Although I know nothing of war, I always accept the wishes of my King. It is not a responsibility, Master, it is an honor. I will serve you in any way I can.” With that Nomti held his cup high and took a long sip of his wine, peering over its edge directly at Khenemet.

  SCROLL THIRTY

  The Battle

  Merkha

  “The villages here and here on both sides of the river have been cleared,” Nebibi reported. Eight of Nebibi’s subordinates stood around a parchment on which a map had been drawn. Six gold weights with the insignia of Sobek, the crocodile god, held it flat on the table. Around the perimeter of the King’s tent a group of advisors milled around.

  “Good. Burn them,” Qa’a ordered. Nebibi nodded at one of his subordinates and he turned to leave. Qa’a stood and unsteadily made his way to the opening of the field tent. He watched the messenger make his way down the slope that gave Nebibi’s officers a commanding view of the battlefield. With the messenger’s signal, torches were thrown onto the thatch huts. Mud-brick buildings were destroyed with battering rams. Qa’a watched impassively.

  “Continue,” Qa’a said tersely to Nebibi.

  “All villages from here to here have been secured with very little resistance. Our pincer division squeezes them from the western desert.”

  “Any word from Ahnpet?”

  “Nothing new. They will not leave until we are closer to Dep. I just received a message that there is a good deal of resistance right here,” Nebibi said, ramming his finger onto the map. “Not sure what that is about. I’ll find out.” He tightened his belt and turned to leave.

  “Crush them!” Qa’a reminded him. Nebibi turned without a word.

  “Nomti! Sit with me for a while.” Nomti sauntered over to Qa’a, who swigged from his mug of beer. Nomti looked out of place, with a new leather breastplate and belt. A small sword swung clumsily from his belt. As he tried to sit, his sword sheath caught the chair and prevented him from squatting.

  “Damn, I know not how you soldiers manage with all this… this gear!”

  “You are indeed a sorry sight for a soldier, Nomti,” Qa’a said, laughing.

  “I told you…”

  “Yes, we have all heard it before. You are a businessman. Yet you are one of my most important advisors, so you should know first-hand about the military aspects of leading a country. How else will I be able to depend on your advice?”

  “I see your point.”

  “Besides, your unit is positioned in the rear, to be used only if needed. The way things are going you will still be an army virgin after the war is over.”

  “From your lips directly to Horus’ ears, Master. May he honor your words.”

  “Pages! Bring us lunch. We are hungry.” As the servants rushed in to set the tables, Qa’a turned to Nomti.

  “Do you ever wonder, Nomti, whether I take the proper actions?” I stood behind the two of them and could not understand Qa’a’s intent.

  “I… mmm… I do not understand what you mean?”

  “The King must make decisions every day that affect his people. Rationing grain, building temples, going to war. Do I choose the right actions? That is what I am asking? I mean in your opinion.” I wondered how Nomti was going to get out of this.

  “It must be a terrible burden on you, Master. I know not how you are able to do it.”

  “Yes, you are right, it is a burden, a terrible one. I often wonder whether I do the right thing.” His brows were screwed up and he drank steadily from his cup, which a page kept refilling from the pitcher that stood on the table next to him.

  “With my dear Banafrit now in the Afterlife, I could care less what happens to Kem. Is that not awful, Nomti? I can no longer think clearly among the choices that my advisors bring to me. Not you, Nomti, but Khenemet and Buikkhu and the architects and treasurers and governors. Too many choices and few answers.

  “And the damned marsh dwellers. That is the only thing of which I am certain. They will never allow themselves to be part of Kem, so we must make the Two Lands into one. One people.”

  “Do you think this course…”

  “It is a dirty business being King, my loyal servant. I must wallow in filth sometimes. I wonder what Amisi would say… she is… is she dead? No, I mean Banafrit. You see how easy it is to get confused?”

  Qa’a’s eyes were red from drinking. He slapped at a mosquito. “Damn these infernal bugs!” he shouted. “Buikkhu, get rid of them!” Buikkhu came over to them with a salve, but Nomti looked away, so ashamed was he of Qa’a’s behavior. Buikkhu merely shrugged.

  That night, Nebibi arrived at the King’s tent and called his captains together to review what he had learned. A large contingent of Ta-Tjehenus were defending a crucial town at a fork in the river.

  “How many?” one of his men asked.

  “A few hundred, perhaps double that. It is hard to judge for they have built some tall mud fortifications around the town.”

  “When should we attack?” Qa’a asked.

  “We could avoid them altogether by sailing past them and continuing on to Dep. But I do not want a force that large behind us, picking us off from behind. I say we attack at Ra’s rising. I do not think we can count on our western flank helping us. They are slogging through the desert right now. ”

  “I agree. Pour all the men we have here into the battle. Up to now it has been no fun.” He put down his cup and wiped a rivulet of beer from his chin. “We will again cut off their balls and send their putrid bodies back to their people.” Nebibi turned his head in disgust.

  Before Ra’s rise, the armies were assembled. Three thousand men were assigned to boats, instructed to float downstream and attack from both sides of the small peninsula that jutted from the town. During the night Nebibi had sent a force of two hundred of his best men to flank the town from behind and block any retreat. The rest of the army, a force of five thousand men and his King’s Guards, led by Qa’a, would direct a frontal assault. Three divisions of one thousand men each, including Nomti’s, were held in reserve.
<
br />   It was an impressive sight when the boats left the camp that dawn. Rowing quietly, they quickly dispersed, forming two battle groups. With little sleep and a few days growth of facial hair, Qa’a still looked the role of King. He was dressed in his leather breastplate with the round shield of his serekh mounted on the front. He had long ago discarded the Double Crown and instead wore the red crown of Upper Egypt. He held onto the mast with both hands as his boat cast off. There was no show of high morale from his troops. He gave them not a word of encouragement, but instead looked straight ahead.

  In less than an hour, the flanking groups reached their target and soon the sounds of battle could be heard by the men commanded by Qa’a. War cries, shouts from commanders and screams of agony reached our ears. The King’s Guards pressed in closer to Qa’a. Men gripped their spears and maces tighter.

  The current took us faster than General Nebibi had planned and soon the main force was backed up by the boats of the flanking groups. We watched as those early soldiers tried to come ashore on either side of the harbor and were repelled by waves of spears and stones from the Ta-Tjehenu fighting beside our Delta countrymen.

  “Look, women have joined the battle!” one soldier in Qa’a’s boat shouted. We watched as dozens of women shuttled fresh arms to the fighters. A look of sheer disgust passed over Qa’a’s face.

  Our dead and wounded littered the banks of the harbor. Nebibi shouted orders to move the empty flanking boats off to the side so that our main force could get through. Soldiers leaped from boat to boat, shoving as many as they could reach out of the way. Many were cut down by enemy spears.

  Finally, amidst the war cries of the main force, the first of our boats found the embankment. As each group of soldiers ran ashore, a stand of Ta-Tjehenus arose from behind the mud embankments and threw their spears. Our men fell like swatted flies.

  “Do not land!” Nebibi shouted. “Get out in the shallows and stay behind your boats for protection. Lift the smaller reed boats as shields. Go!”

  As the men obeyed Nebibi’s orders, the reed boats took on the appearance of pin cushions with spears sticking out at all angles. Yet our men still could not climb the slick mud ramparts that the enemy had built and constantly watered with buckets carried by the women. Just then, the two hundred warriors that Nebibi had sent the night before came upon the scene. With war cries they began to cut down the enemy from behind.

  “Now!” the General yelled. “Move onshore!” In a mad rush the men, now energized from the success of their fellow soldiers, stumbled from boat to boat in a mad dash to get to the enemy. Men climbed each others’ shoulders to get to the top. Finally, we could see our men standing on the ramparts, at first just one or two, but soon ten or more, battling sword to sword.

  “We join the battle men!” Qa’a shouted. Four of his Guards jumped in the water and pulled his reed boat ashore. During those first vulnerable moments, they crowded around him, their shields forming a protective cover that all but hid him from enemy eyes.

  With the elite troops on land, the battle quickly escalated. Nebibi must have realized that his estimate of the enemy’s strength was far too low. Enemy reinforcements arrived at regular intervals, facing our by now exhausted soldiers. Our men fell easily. Still, we had at least two thousand more men in boats and Nebibi stood on the prow of his ship directing our boats to battle. Yet there was little he could do as the harbor was filled with our empty vessels. When he yelled to his men to clear some of the boats away, his voice was suddenly cut off. I heard a weak groan to my left and there was Nebibi, struggling to stand with a spear sticking out from his side. Two of his aides stood paralyzed, staring in alarm.

  “Do not just stand there you sons of donkeys!” Nebibi wheezed. “Pull the damned thing out!” With one holding the General tightly, the other pulled. As the tip came out, it brought a strand of Nebibi’s intestine with it. The aide dropped the spear and began screaming hysterically. Nebibi dropped to his knees and two Horus priest physicians scrambled from boat to boat to reach him.

  By now Qa’a was engaged in hand-to-hand combat and I saw that although he had slowed considerably due to age and the effects of alcohol, he still was more than a match for the enemy that confronted him. Yet Qa’a’s Guard troops did not allow him to fight many enemy, for each time they rushed to his defense as soon as he engaged.

  By now it was obvious that the attack by water was flawed from the start. All our reserve troops dawdled in the water, unable to move closer. One of the physicians who attended the General motioned for me to come. When I reached their boat, Nebibi was lying down, swathed in clean linen cloths that the priests carried on the battlefield. They soaked the cloths in juniper juice. Nebibi motioned me closer.

  “Get a message to Qa’a,” he whispered. “Tell him to retreat, but only for tonight. We must regroup and plan better. Go!”

  I jumped from boat to boat until I came on a page who ferried arms to the soldiers. I told him to relay the message and he immediately jumped into the water and trudged to shore. In a few more moments I heard the ram’s horn signaling retreat. As our men headed back to their boats, the Ta-Tjehenu mercilessly taunted our men, calling Qa’a a coward. Qa’a stood in his boat and raised his sword.

  “Until tomorrow then, you swine. Tomorrow you will have your reckoning.”

  As we rowed away, I looked at the battle-scarred harbor. The Ta-Tjehenus and the townspeople were already repairing the mud walls, throwing our dead disrespectfully into the water and putting our wounded to the sword, as Qa’a had done so long ago to their kin. I turned away, sickened by the sight.

  That night, we tended to those of our wounded who we were able to bring back to camp with us. Although I was not a medical priest, I was recruited as an assistant to Senbi’s son, who was a promising physician priest like his father. We tended to General Nebibi’s wound, which had been sewn with goat thread. In the midst of the night, Nebibi began to overheat and we knew that the prurience had set in and threatened his very life.

  All the way back to camp and throughout the night Qa’a was furious, taking his anger out on anyone who dared to be in his presence. He stormed about the camp, harassing his army captains, and demanding that they fight harder on the next outing, ignoring his responsibility for directing the campaign. After rations were devoured by the weary troops that had fought in the battle, Qa’a summoned his war council to his tent.

  “With General Nebibi wounded, I will lead the army now,” he began. “We must now develop a plan to defeat these marsh rats and their Ta-Tjehenu whores. Who will speak first?”

  “We must use all our forces in a direct assault,” one of the council members suggested.

  “Well, we saw what good that did,” another countered. “We must develop a land assault.”

  “The town is surrounded by water. The only access would be a small path that would be easy for them to defend.”

  “That is why I thought we would do best to bypass the town altogether. It is not worth the price we must pay.”

  “Bypassing them is not an option!” Qa’a said, pounding his fist on the table. “We must exterminate them once and for all.”

  “May I make a suggestion?” Nomti said. All eyes turned to him where he sat behind the war council.

  “Of course. Speak.”

  “I have heard what happened today from Merkha here. I believe he was a thorough witness to the action. I believe you must divide up the forces and attack on three fronts.”

  “But the water approach was flawed,” Qa’a said. “The men could not even get up the slippery embankments.”

  “I have a suggestion, Master. Use the masts to make as many ladders as we can. They do not even need to be carefully constructed since they will only have to last for the battle. Keep your best spearmen at the base of the ladders as protection, while your best mace men scale the ladders.