by Overton, Max
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When the first rays of the sun touched the desert plain, the men of the Pillar fanned out across it, searching for the faint sign that would tell them of Scarab's presence. A man called, then another, pointing, before running slowly to one side, following footprints in the sand.
"See," Lotan said. "The Eye ran here."
"With one other," Gershon added. "That will be Khu."
Jesua cast about and found more tracks leading from the hill where the deserted camp lay. "Others moved to intercept her. Follow the tracks," he commanded.
Lotan and Gershon ran in a curve across the desert and then changed direction abruptly. "Chariots!"
Jesua joined them, waving the rest of the men to stay back so as not to confuse the spoor. "Two chariots, coming from the northeast. The Eye stopped here...Khu with her...then they separated and..."
"Jesua! Over here." Dahvin stood some hundred paces away, closer to the old camp. He toed something in the sand with his sandal. "Amorite arrows...and blood. Nakhtmin and the Amorites fought over her."
"Yet there is no sign of a struggle over here," Jesua called. "Her track stops suddenly, as if lifted up...the Amorite chariots took them."
Dahvin trotted over and examined the signs. "Nakhtmin's men came no closer, so they did not contest her capture or pursue. What do we do, Jesua?"
Jesua stared down at the marks in the sand as if by an effort of concentration he could force them to yield further information. "I must think on this," he muttered. He strode off a few paces and squatted, facing the northeast, his head sinking onto his breast. Several minutes passed before he stirred and got up. "We follow her," he said grimly.
"We are low on water," Terrik pointed out.
"I and six men will take the trail. Terrik, you will take the others and seek the Well of the Dead Camel. It lies northwest, perhaps a day's travel from here. Carry as much water as you can and rejoin us."
Terrik nodded. "Where will you be?"
"Somewhere to the east of you most likely. We will make a fire and release a single puff of smoke at dawn, noon and dusk. Be on the lookout for it."
Terrik led the main body away, seeking the Well of the Dead Camel. They carried with them all the water bottles of the Pillar save for two. Every man was aware that if they did not find water and then find the tracking party, Jesua and his six companions would be dead from thirst by nightfall the next day.
Jesua led his men away to the northeast, following the double curved print of the chariot wheels. The track was easy to follow as long as the route lay over sand or the thin desert soil, but when it crossed rock, the pursuit slowed to a crawl. Jesua ran his men past the expected noon break, knowing Terrik would not find the well until at least nightfall. He carried both water bottles and refused to allow any man to drink from them during the heat of the day.
They followed the tracks until the shadows obscured the thin lines carved by the chariot wheels. Jesua rested his men and doled out sips of water, almost draining one bottle. When the moon rose, he studied the sand and nodded, pointing.
"The wheel lines cast faint shadows, but they will not do so for long. When the moon rises further, the shadows will fade. Quickly now, while the trail remains."
The seven men of the Pillar raced on into the night, striving to cover as much distance as they could in the minutes before the angle of the light washed out the lines. At last, Jesua admitted defeat and ordered a halt. They ate bread and a little dried goat meat before sleeping, but Jesua stayed up, sitting on a boulder and staring out over the desert.
At dawn, they lit a fire, striking a piece of sky-metal against flint. The flames ate the few dry twigs they gathered and Jesua laid a piece of cloth moistened with urine over it to generate smoke. A small white cloud rose into the still air, rising above them as a marker. Jesua kicked sand over the tiny fire and led his men away again.
The chariot wheels led them north now, and soon the tracks they followed met up with others. By noon, the runners were following a well-defined trail beaten into the ground by the hooves of a dozen horses and the wheels of as many chariots. They found dung, dried, devoid of moisture, and gathered some up to serve as fuel. The noon fire burned smokily without the cloth and another ragged cloud streaked the air above them.
The countryside was changing as they moved out of the desert of Sin and into the harsh borderlands of Kenaan. Jesua led his men off the worn road and into the thin shade of a rocky outcrop in the mid-afternoon, letting his companions rest during the heat of the day. Half of their remaining water vanished down parched throats.
The dusk fire was composed of dried grasses with a few green leaves to produce the signal. Jesua hoarded the water, allowing each man only a single swallow. The morning ration would exhaust their supply and unless Terrik found them or they discovered a well, they would be in poor shape by the following night. The day after, they would die.
At dawn, Jesua let the fire burn a little longer, letting the smoke arise like a pillar. The men muttered, concerned as they were now deep into the territory where Amorite and Kemetu fought for mastery. Unfriendly eyes could be viewing their signal. Jesua shrugged off their concerns.
"We need water today. If Terrik does not find us, we will surely die. If the enemy finds us instead, we will just have to rob them of their water."
They moved more slowly now and in the distance they saw a range of mountains. The tracks of the chariots led straight toward them, so Jesua hurried his men in that direction. At noon, a cloud of smoke rose once more and for many minutes afterward, the seven men stood and stared into the west, hoping to see Terrik coming to their rescue. Nothing moved on the desert save the shimmering of heated air and the distant black pools of water the demons of the desert use to lure thirsty travelers.
"Nothing," Jesua muttered. "If they saw our signal they will expect us to keep moving north, so we shall."
Their pace was no more than a walk now, and when they reached a jumble of rocks where the land started to rise, Jesua let them rest. He remained awake while the others slept, scanning the west for any sign of his men. As the sun dipped in the sky he saw a thin pillar of dust, dancing in the distance, bending and swaying in the rippling air. It is Terrik , he thought. The Pillar of the desert comes, bearing life ..."Awake!" he roared. "They come."
The column of dust crept closer and seven pairs of eyes remained fixed on it, seven throats swallowing painfully, seven pairs of cracked lips muttering prayers to the gods...and then, between one breath and the next, the column collapsed, leaving a barren expanse of ground before them.
"Where are they?" croaked one man. "Why have they stopped?"
Jesua's shoulders slumped. "It was a dust devil."
"What do we do?" asked another man. "That was our last hope."
"We rest until nightfall and we travel as best we can in the dark. Pray that rescue comes by dawn because we will not survive another day."
This time Jesua joined his companions in the shade and he was sleeping fitfully when a foot nudged him awake.
"I thought you would keep better watch than this. We could have been anyone."
Jesua stared up at the man bending over him. "Terrik? The dust devil in the west was you?"
Terrik shook his head. "We came from the south, following your tracks. We intercepted them in the mid morning but were laden with water and could not catch you."
"Water? You have water?" Jesua stretched out his hand and took the water skin proffered him. He half raised it, his throat working convulsively, and then looked around. "The others? Do they have...?"
"There is water for all, Jesua. Drink, for you have need of it."
Jesua drank then, the water soaking into his flesh like a spring rain into a field of wheat. The others drank with him, while Terrik saw to the preparation of smokeless fires in the lea of the rocks and the making of a hot meal.
The next day saw the reunited Pillar climb into the foothills of southern Kenaan, and two days later they found whe
re the Eye of Geb had been taken.
The Amorite camp sprawled over a large area. Guards patrolled the borders but they paid little attention to people entering or leaving the camp, stopping only soldiers. While his men sought food from the farmers and villagers in the vicinity, Jesua watched carefully, surprised at the casual attitude of the guards but decided there must be a reason for it. After an hour he discussed his findings with Terrik and Abrim.
"They are concerned solely with their own soldiers leaving. It seems anyone else can come and go as they please."
"Are they not afraid of Kemetu spies?" Abrim asked.
"Apparently not. I saw no one questioned, though a few baskets were searched."
"Kemetu are clean shaven," Terrik observed. "Though I imagine a spy would let his beard grow."
"It makes our job easier. We have to get into the camp, make sure the Eye is there, and then get her out. We may be able to walk in and walk out again."
"And if we get stopped?" Abrim asked.
"Then we fight our way out and run. Perhaps we should test the pond before we plunge in. Terrik, go and buy a goat from a herdsman." Jesua handed him a copper bracelet.
"What? Why?"
"You are going to need something to sell to the Amorite quartermaster."
"Ah..." Terrik hurried off. He returned soon and watched closely by his companions, he hauled the bawling goat toward the guards.
"I have a goat to sell," Terrik told the soldiers.
One ignored him and the other shrugged. "What has that to do with us? Take it to the kitchens." They turned away and left Terrik to go where he willed. He disappeared among the tents and emerged a few minutes later without the goat. The guards only glanced at him on his way out.
"Good," Jesua said. "We can enter easily enough if we have something to sell. Go and buy what you can from the farmers hereabouts. I mean to search that camp until she is found."
Jesua took half his men into the camp, entering in ones and twos, each man clutching an item of produce. The soldiers did not stop anyone, though once or twice they pawed through a basket of grain or sack of root vegetables. Once in the camp they moved in pairs, catching no one's eyes and not engaging anyone in conversation, being content to look for their red-haired woman or the slim, dark Kemetu man. They searched through the lanes between the tents, the open places and the horse lines, though in this latter they were stopped and questioned. They grinned inanely and proffered their goods, whereupon the soldier would invariably point them toward the fires of the kitchen area. After an hour or so, they exited the camp and met up again.
"She's there," Lotan said excitedly. "I saw her near the commander's tent."
Jesua turned to the man who had accompanied Lotan. "Did you see her too?"
Dahvin shook his head. "Sorry, I was looking the other way. I saw the tent flap move but that's all."
"It was her," Lotan reiterated. "It was only for a moment but it was her. Who else could it be with red hair?"
"Any Khabiru woman," Jesua said dryly. "You will show me now, and may the gods help you if you just caught sight of a local washer woman or whore."
Jesua and Lotan returned to the camp, managing to slip inside holding no more than an empty basket. Lotan led the way into the middle of the tented region and within sight of the ornate tent of the camp commander.
"It was that one there," Lotan said, jerking his head casually. "She's not there now though," he added unnecessarily.
Jesua knelt to fiddle with the strap of one sandal and glanced around. "We can't just stand around waiting for her to show up," he muttered. "Someone's bound to ask who we are and throw us out. Got any ideas?"
Lotan chewed his lip and nodded. "Walk away and wait until the shouting starts. Then come back and look for her."
Jesua stared at the man. "What shouting?" Then he nodded in understanding and strolled away.
Lotan waited until he was out of sight and took a deep breath, suddenly very unsure of himself. He stepped in front of three soldiers walking past and raised his arms. "I come from the desert," he shouted. "Yes, I live in the desert where I pray to the gods and exist side by side with the snake and the jackal and...and the scarab beetle. Hear my words, men of Amurru, for the gods have spoken to me."
The three soldiers stared, taken aback, and then one guffawed. All around them, conversation stopped and people crowded around, curious as to the disturbance. Lotan caught a glimpse of Jesua at the back of the gathering crowd and started again. "The eye of the god is upon me, men of Amurru. He said to me...'Rise Pillar of the god' and journey to the land of Amurru..."
Jesua shook his head at his companion's words, but recognised that everyone was watching Lotan. He slipped round the side of the crowd, looking for the tent near the commander's. Soldiers jostled him but he ducked his head, apologising and moving on quickly.
"...the god calls upon the men of Amurru to...to...worship him in...in the desert. Come with me, all of you, so we can offer up..."
Jesua edged along the front of the tents, glancing eagerly as flaps moved and heads poked out. Jeers and laughter now greeted Lotan's cries and he knew that the distraction would not last much longer. A figure moved ahead of him and a hood slipped back, revealing red hair.
"Scarab!" Jesua called hoarsely.
The figure turned and smiled. "Hello Jesua. Is that Lotan shouting all that nonsense?"
"We're here to get you out. Come on, quickly."
"I'm not leaving without Khu."
"Then bring him, but hurry."
"He's not here." Scarab frowned. "They took him away so I have to do what they want."
"We must all make sacrifices," Jesua commented, edging close to her. He looked nervously at the crowd around Lotan. "He would want you to save yourself."
"You don't understand. I don't need saving. My 'eye' and the power of Set can protect me but they cannot protect Khu as well if I don't know where he is. General Jebu and Ashraz say they will hurt Khu unless I agree to travel to Taanach."
"What's in Taanach?"
"King Aziru. He wants to see me."
"Why?"
Scarab shrugged. "You'd better take Lotan and get out of here. If you can rescue Khu, I can just walk out of here, but you will need to hurry. I'm to be escorted north in about five days, I think."
Jesua nodded reluctantly. "Do you know where he's being kept?"
"No, but he'll be somewhere in the camp. They want him close to put pressure on me."
"You haven't used your direction gift to find him?"
"Of course, but they keep moving him around. Yesterday he was near the armourer's tents."
"We'll look, but we could look faster if you came with me and pointed out the direction."
"No, Jesua. Find Khu and get him out. As soon as you have done that I will leave, but I will not risk Khu's life by leaving without him."
Soldiers were looking round at them, so Jesua muttered a farewell and pushed through the throng. He found Lotan in the grip of some soldiers and an officer was loudly haranguing him. With a quick muttered prayer, Jesua approached the officer and bowed.
"A thousand apologies, illustrious sir. This is my younger brother Lotan who is somewhat weak-headed. Please excuse him, for he meant no harm. I will take him away immediately." Jesua took Lotan by the arm and pulled, but the soldiers did not let go.
"Who are you and what are you doing in the camp?" the officer asked.
"I am Jesua, a local merchant, sir. I, and my brother, came to see whether the army of Amurru would buy my root vegetables. After we unloaded our sacks at the kitchens we tried to leave but got separated. I fear this has upset my brother and..."
"Enough!" the officer snapped. "I do not want your life story. Take this imbecile and go. Next time, think on the wisdom of bringing a fool into an armed camp." He nodded at the soldiers. "Release him and escort them out."
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Chapter Thirty-Two
Ashraz rode in the mid
dle of a column of fifty soldiers of Jebu's army. They had left the army camp three days before and by riding hard were now close to the city of Taanach. Scarab rode alongside, straddle-fashion, with her robes hitched up. If the sight of her bare legs gave the soldiers any ideas, they kept them to themselves, having seen the power of the witch. Early on, just after they set out, Ashraz had pointed behind them and to each side.
"See those distant horsemen? They are there for one reason only. If for any reason, your presence within this column is compromised, they have instructions to ride back to a small group following us. At the sight of one of those men, your friend Khu will be killed. Do you understand?"
Scarab nodded. "Don't worry; I won't risk his life."
"Good." Ashraz then spent the remainder of the journey in inconsequential conversation. As they came in sight of the city walls, he leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Be careful with King Aziru. He's a violent man."
"My gods will protect me. I must think they have brought me here for a purpose."
Ashraz shrugged. "As you will, but think before you speak. If you anger him he will think nothing of ordering your death." He held up a hand as Scarab opened her mouth. "Yes, I know, your power turns back the ill in men's actions, but how many men must die whose only crime is loyalty to their king? Moreover, eventually they would kill you. You cannot destroy an army."
Scarab nodded. "I'll be careful. I wouldn't want to see you come to harm, Ashraz."
"Nor I you." Ashraz urged his horse to the head of the column and started the process of guiding his troops through the city gates. Most of the men lodged at the barracks within the lower city, but he kept a dozen with him to escort Scarab into the inner citadel. Benalu, the Captain of the Guard met them with his own men and led them through to the main reception hall.
"You took your time, Ashraz," Benalu remarked. "The king's been in a foul temper." He glanced sideways at Scarab. "This is the woman? The princess? She looks harmless enough."
