The Amarnan Kings, Book 4: Scarab - Ay

by Overton, Max

  "We are attacked," Hednakht croaked. He swore bitterly and cried out as his men fell around him.

  Djedhor grabbed him and leaned close, yelling in his ear. "We must rally the men."

  "How?" Hednakht groaned. "We are lost."

  "Nonsense. Have your men fall back toward the Khent-abt. We must stand with them."

  "What? Desert our post? We cannot do that."

  "If we stay here we die," Djedhor said bluntly. As if in agreement, a Leader of Fifty stumbled and fell against his commander, vomiting blood over him as he collapsed.

  Hednakht hesitated a few moments more, swearing loudly. Then he nodded and raised his voice in a bellow. "Re Legion, to me. Stay in your ranks and fall back in an orderly fashion to the Khent-abt. I said in your ranks, you fornicators!" He grabbed at a pair of soldiers who started to run and thrust them back into line. "Slowly now. Keep your shields up. Fall back, fall back."

  The ragged ranks of men started edging away from the rain of arrows and toward the sound of battle. They stumbled over their fallen comrades and, with tears in their eyes, ignored the pleas of the wounded and dying. As they moved away, hardly visible in the flickering light of a handful of unextinguished fires, the heavy fall of arrows followed for a short while before breaking up into scattered showers as the archers lost the range.

  Fewer men fell now and Hednakht and Djedhor picked up the pace, leading the remnants of the Re legion toward the battle. The Amorite archers did not pursue, but kept up a constant hail of missiles until the Kemetu passed out of range.

  The battle raged as the battered Re legion approached. Almost the whole Amorite army pressed the Khent-abt legionaries back, forcing them back into their camp. Commander Djeserkare saw the Re soldiers arrive and waved frantically, pointing to where the enemy was on the point of breaking through. Djedhor immediately took a troop to stiffen the line, while Hednakht led his remaining men behind the fighting.

  "What happened?" Djeserkare asked, running his gaze over the bloodied members of the Re legion.

  "That goat-fornicator Jebu knew the Heru legion had gone," Hednakht snarled. "He sent his fornicating archers through their lines and attacked us from the rear."

  "Djedhor?"

  "He lives." Hednakht pointed. "What now? Can we hold them?"

  The line of fighting men heaved and buckled, almost breaking before an infusion of Re troops held. "Normally I'd say there would be no doubt of our ability," Djeserkare said, "But these Amorites are unusually disciplined. They are not fighting individually, but in groups." He looked across what he could see of the battlefield and grimaced. "I think we are outnumbered."

  "Curse Paramessu," Hednakht muttered. "What was so fornicating important he had to take a third of the army and leave us exposed like this?"

  Djeserkare grinned, despite the insult offered to their absent general. "You can ask him when he returns--if we survive."

  The commanders turned their attention toward the fighting. It soon became apparent that the whole Amorite army was there, a crush of men pouring down from the hills and enveloping the Kemetu position. Despite the losses inflicted on the Re legion, the two forces were evenly balanced, though Jebu still held the initiative. This changed as the grey light of pre-dawn spread across the foothills.

  Djeserkare stepped back from the front line, wiping sweat from his brow but ignoring the blood and grime that splattered his body and kilt. He joined the other commanders on a slight rise where they could see over the heads of their soldiers. At once, Amorite archers turned their attentions to the officers and the commanders were forced to bring up a small squad of men with shields to afford them some protection while they talked.

  "You see?" Djeserkare said, pointing east to where his Khent-abt legion was pushing back the enemy. "Another effort and we can defeat them."

  Djedhor shook his head painfully. A sword had slashed his scalp at some stage in the battle and dried blood had cracked on his face giving him a wild and terrifying appearance. "What with?" he asked. "We have no reserves and the men are exhausted."

  Hednakht's left arm hung uselessly beside him. The shaft of the arrow through his elbow joint was broken off and bound in place, but every movement sent waves of pain through his arm. He ignored it as best he could though, and turned his attention to the task at hand. "We have no reserves," he agreed, "But we are not without resources. Our men are better trained and fight for honour. If the Khent-abt could spread out to shield the Re legion, I think we could organise them into a wedge. Drive that hard at the enemy and we might rout them."

  "A last throw of the dice?" Djeserkare asked. "It might work. My men can cover you." He spoke rapidly to a soldier and sent him running to the troop commanders with instructions. Hednakht sent others to withdraw his own legion into the centre. The Amorites could see something happening, and in the light of increasing day, sent fresh volleys of arrows into the gathering troops.

  "Are we ready?" Hednakht asked. He leaned against a spear and panted with exhaustion after getting his legion into a semblance of order.

  "What exactly are our goals?" Djedhor continued pushing men into position as he spoke. "I mean, what do we hope to accomplish?"

  "To defeat the enemy, of course."

  "Of course, but what do we try for first?"

  Hednakht shrugged and instantly regretted it, stifling a cry as the arrow shaft ground in his wound. "See the standard over there?" He jerked his head in the direction of a large knot of men where the fighting was thickest. "I think that's Jebu's standard--the Hand. We might be able to kill him if we strike hard enough."

  Djedhor grimaced. "Maybe."

  "If not...well, we are soldiers. We know how to die."

  "We could just break out of here, outrun them. A day would get us close to the forts on the Heru Road."

  "Are you going to be the one to explain to General Horemheb how you retreated from the enemy and lost an army? I'd rather die in battle, myself."

  Djedhor picked at the dried blood on his face, scowling. "Jebu it is then...only..."

  "What"

  "If we don't succeed, we could still break through to the knoll. We could make a stand there. And who knows, maybe Paramessu will return with the Heru."

  Hednakht stared at his fellow commander, gauging him. "Very well, but it is my decision only. You agree? The Re legion is mine to command."

  Djedhor nodded and drew his sword. "On your word then."

  Hednakht gave the order and his men, a thousand strong, raised a roar of praise to their titulary god, now rising over the ranks of the enemy. They surged forward in a broad wedge, the Khent-abt legion melting away in front of them. The Amorites reeled under the shock and fell back, fighting fiercely.

  "It's working!" Hednakht yelled, clutching onto a soldier as he reeled in the midst of his men. "There's the 'Hand' standard. Take it! Kill them!"

  The Amorite front line firmed, while the men behind drew back a dozen paces before turning to stand in line. Large shields appeared, passed swiftly from the rear, and the line of men became a wall.

  "What are they doing?" Djedhor asked. "Are they on parade?"

  Abruptly, the Amorite line surged forward and, as the Kemetu soldiers drew back a pace, the enemy turned and ran.

  "We have them!" Hednakt screamed. "They are running. After them." He shook off the soldier supporting him and ran forward with the rest of the Re legion.

  The Amorites reached the shield wall, which parted to let them through before closing as Hednakht and the first Kemetu troops reached it. They ran into hardened leather and their swords had little impact. Hednakht drew back a few paces and examined the foe. He saw other groups of the enemy forming similar walls and wondered at it.

  "Go around them. Take them from behind."

  The Re legion obeyed their commander and fanned out along both sides, but everywhere they met a solid wall of shields. On other parts of the field, the Khent-abt had similarly surrounded smaller shielded formations with a similar lack of success. Scatt
ered between the solid squares, men from both armies fought and died in the usual fashion, and the Amorite archers continued to exact a toll from behind.

  "Break into it," Hednakht commanded. "All together, at one point."

  The leather shields stood firm. If a Kemetu weapon successfully probed a gap and a man fell, another from within took his place instantly. The Kemetu attacks continued, but the men became increasingly frustrated and their motions became disorganised.

  A trumpet blast sounded from within the square and the line of shields parted. A torrent of armed men raced out and overthrew the Kemetu, hurling them back in chaos, hacking and slashing. The Kemetu ran, but as the commanders and Leaders rallied the men again, the Amorites retreated back into their haven, leaving over a hundred of their enemy and no more than a double handful of their own men dead on the ground.

  In fury, Hednakht hurled his legion forward again, and as the attack faltered, once more the Amorites burst out, killing and maiming. Hednakht fell in this second assault, weakened by his injury and overwhelmed by numbers. Though his companions fled, he refused to run and was cut down by a dozen blades. The men of the Re legion nearest him felt their shame immediately and turned, too late, to fight. They died with their commander.

  Djedhor felt horror and anguish at the death of his friend and fellow commander, but knew he could not afford to grieve now. "To me, Re legion," he called. "Rally to me and stand firm for the honour of your standards." He looked about him at the chaos of battle and saw Djeserkare's Khent-abt legion was also being cut to pieces. It is over. We have lost .

  "Follow me!" Djedhor thrust through the press of soldiers and led the remnants of the legion at a run toward Djeserkare. The Amorites harried them as they ran, forsaking their shielded squares and once more fighting man for man, cutting down Kemetu men almost at will. Djeserkare saw them approaching and sent out a troop of his own men to help. The Khent-abt was not as well trained but they had acquitted themselves well in the fighting and were now in a position of greater strength.

  "What do we do?" Djeserkare asked. "If we stay here we die."

  Djedhor looked at the young commander bleakly. "We run."

  "Sir? We'll be cut down if we do that." A troop of Amorites charged the Kemetu line and for several minutes, everyone was busy pushing them back. "We can't fight and run, sir."

  "Only as far as the knoll," Djedhor said. "Remember where we looked out at the hills? It has steep sides and could be defended."

  Djeserkare nodded. "Then let's do it."

  Surprise helped the Kemetu. When the legions broke out it was in an unexpected direction. The Amorites knew there was a slight danger of the survivors making it to the forts on the Heru Road, where fresh troops could repulse them. Jebu had guarded against this possibility by keeping the archers to the south and west of the lines instead of bringing them up to where the main battle was being fought. When the legions broke free, he hesitated, bemused, wondering if the commanders had gone mad. Then he saw their destination and roared at his men to follow.

  "Follow, overtake and kill. There must be no Kemetu left alive."

  Djedhor and Djeserkare made it to the knoll only paces ahead of the pursuing Amorites. The steep sides and rocky slopes afforded protection from missiles and allowed the legions to regroup. Bleeding and exhausted, the men of Kemet turned to face their enemy once more, this time determined to hold them.

  Jebu hurled his troops at the knoll five times, and five times he was thrown back. He brought up his archers but the boulders offered protection and they had little effect. In a rage, he threw his men forward once more without result, and then settled down to wait them out. He knew the Kemetu had little food and almost no water. After a day in the hot sun, they would be easy to take. While he waited, he had the priests and physicians treat the wounded, and ordered a meal to be prepared within sight of the knoll. Jebu sat on a rock just out of bowshot and watched the enemy, a cup of wine beside him and a hunk of bread in his only hand. He smiled, thinking of the reward that would come to him when he reported this great victory to King Aziru.

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  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Scarab's journey north into the sand desert had been successful. They made good time, despite the presence of the two new members--Khu and Nebhotep. Four days after leaving the Shechite camp they arrived at a small unnamed well where a member of the 'Pillar', Marak, waited with a half dozen recruits. Two days later, another five men, led by a man called Lotan found them and after a short discussion, agreed to join them. It was near dusk, so they camped in the lee of a crumbled outcrop of rock poking up like bones from the shifting flesh of the desert sand.

  Khu made an effort to see Scarab after the meal, refusing to budge when the guards turned him back. Even Salom, the Pillar member designated as his guard and teacher, tried to dissuade him.

  "The Eye of Geb is not to be disturbed. She will send for you when she wants you...if she wants you."

  Khu shook his head stubbornly. "No. She made me one of her counselors. It is my duty to be with her."

  "She has not sent for you," one of the guards said. "You cannot enter into her presence."

  "I will wait here if I must, but I will not leave without speaking with her. Go and tell her I am here. You will see."

  "If we do and she bids you leave, will you do so peacefully?" Salom asked. When Khu nodded, he sent one of the guards with the message.

  The guard returned a few minutes later, scowling. "The Eye of Geb says you may approach."

  Salom looked surprised but guided Khu toward Scarab's campfire near the rocks. For a leader, Scarab lived in no more luxury than her followers did. Her shelter was a single small woollen blanket stretched between two rocks and her campfire a mere handful of glowing embers that accentuated the shadows around it. One of the shadows stirred and flowed as Salom and Khu approached and Jesua stepped into the moonlight to confront them.

  "I will have your knife, Khu," Jesua said softly. "No man enters her presence armed."

  Khu nodded and started to take his knife from his waistband, but Scarab's voice cut through the darkness. "That is not necessary, Jesua. Khu is as a brother to me and I trust him with my life."

  "Even a brother may kill a sister," Jesua rasped, but he stepped aside and motioned Khu past. "I will be watching," he murmured. He and Salom withdrew to the rocks, out of earshot but alert.

  Khu approached the embers and sat down opposite Scarab, precipitating a hiss of displeasure from Jesua and Salom. "What?" Khu asked, looking round.

  Scarab's face was in deep shadow but she sounded amused. "They are upset because you presumed to sit in my presence."

  "Oh. Well..." Khu started to get up but Scarab laughed.

  "Sit down, Khu. You of all people do not need my permission." She waited until Khu had settled himself once more. "What did you want to see me about?"

  "I...er...well, nothing really. I wondered whether you...er, needed me for...for anything."

  "Thank you for thinking of me, but Jesua sees to my needs. What he cannot provide, the gods do."

  "Oh...well, that's good." Khu sat silently, staring at the embers, watching the way the red glow rippled over the surface of the coals as a faint wind blew across them. He could not think of anything to say. Embarrassment made him want to leave but he could not think how to without looking foolish. He was glad the darkness hid his face from her.

  "What else, Khu?" Scarab asked gently. "What is on your mind?"

  "Nothing," he muttered. Then, after a few moments, "Why am I here, Scarab?"

  "I thought you wanted to be here. You came looking for me in Iunu, remember?"

  "Yes. I thought...I thought it would be like old times. I thought we'd help you and we would be as we were before."

  "Things change, Khu. We are not the same people we were then."

  "No." There was a longer silence. "You don't need me any longer. I should go."

  "I'd rather you didn't."
>
  "Why?"

  This time Scarab remained silent for many minutes. When she at last spoke, her voice was no more than a whisper. "Ay has killed my whole family. He has plotted and connived treasonously to kill my brothers Akhenaten, Smenkhkare and Tutankhamen. He even had my cousin Nefertiti exiled, and her daughters have died off one by one after her until I was the only member of my father's house left alive. Now he has claimed the throne for his own and means to leave it to his adopted son Nakhtmin."

  Khu said nothing and after a silence in which the only sound was the faint rustle of sand grains blown by the night wind, she spoke again.

  "Smenkhkare was rightful king of Kemet and I was consecrated as his successor. Ay is nothing more than an interloper, an adventurer who pretends to be king. I intend to carry war into Kemet and kill Ay and his son, ridding the Two Lands of this noxious animal."

  "W...war? B...but you have no army."

  "I have Jesua and the 'Pillar'."

  "A dozen men."

  "More than that. Maybe fifty." Scarab laughed. "I will not meet Ay on the battlefield. I would not accord him that honour. No, he shall die as he has lived--in the gutter."

  "When will you do this?"

  "Soon."

  "You mean to rule Kemet yourself?"

  "Would you support me?"

  "My life is yours, Scarab. It always was and always will be."

  Scarab sighed. "Loyal Khu. But I will need the loyalty of more than a handful if I am to sit on the throne that is mine by right."

  "You have the gods. The Nine of Iunu support you."

  "Yes."

  "With the gods on our side, how can we lose?"

  "I have wondered that myself, Khu."

  "Why do you want me to stay? I am no warrior; I have little skill as a physician and no great wisdom. Of what use can I possibly be?"