by Overton, Max
"He will answer to me," Scarab said sharply, "And he does not shame me. He shames himself. Remember that, Nebhotep."
"I can't stand seeing him...him do that."
"Then don't watch. You at least have the luxury of ignoring what happens. I have to endure him, but I can put my mind in a pleasant place and it is over soon enough. Don't make it harder for me by making me worry about you."
"Oh gods, I'm sorry, Scarab. I...I am being selfish. I just wish I could get my hands on his throat."
"I know." Footsteps sounded on the bare boards outside the cabin. "He's coming. Turn away, Nebhotep."
The physician cast an agonised gaze at the half-hanging woman, trying to put encouragement, pity and hope into his look. He shut his eyes and rolled awkwardly to face the wall of the cabin just before the door opened and Nakhtmin came in.
"What? You are not going to enjoy the entertainment, physician? Never mind, enjoy your rest and I'll get creative with you this evening." He closed the door and strutted into the small room, circling around Scarab, staring at her as the tip of his tongue flicked over his upper lip.
Scarab ignored him, staring through the open hatch at the back of the cabin, seeing the green swell of the river and hearing the rush and gurgle of the water slipping past the hull. She had been in this situation before and knew that to keep Nakhtmin's actions in the forefront of her consciousness was to invite revulsion and anger. She would instead remain calm and detached, as if it was another woman being humiliated. But I will remember , she screamed silently.
Nakhtmin reached out and undid the fastenings of Scarab's dress where it hung around her hips, letting it fall to the floor. His attention once more became fixated on her sex, both attracted and repelled by the sight.
"You really are a barbarian," he muttered. "Letting your body hair grow like that. You must be filthy and diseased under that thatch." Nakhtmin knew she was clean as he could not bear anyone unclean near him, but he shivered nonetheless. He took a cloth and dipped it in a pail of water, gently wiping her body down, removing the stains of sweat and blood. His fingers followed and he grinned in her face, trying to catch the attention of her one good eye. "The family of Nebmaetre is degenerate and the females good for nothing but whoring. What do you think of that, Lady Beketaten? No answer, eh? Let's see if I can force a sound out of you." He drew his dagger and cut the rope holding Scarab upright.
She fell to the floor in an ungainly heap, stifling a cry as her strained muscles were suddenly released. She moved weakly, her limbs not answering her will.
Nakhtmin dropped to his knees beside her and slammed his dagger into the decking to one side. He would use it soon, but for now, his hands would do. He tugged and pulled at the conscious but helpless woman, rearranging her limbs, enjoying putting her in unnatural positions and undignified poses. He chuckled as he played with her, stroking her limbs and body, forcing himself on her. Presently, he removed his kilt.
Scarab lay where he put her, her eye closed, her limbs cramped, and her mind turned inward. She prayed to her gods of Iunu, for forgiveness and for strength to endure, and she felt herself answered. The pain in her muscles eased, she felt strength returning. She also became more aware of the man grunting behind her as he slammed into her body. Enough , she thought. This ends now .
Ignoring the soreness of her muscles, she reached beneath her, between her legs and grasped Nakhtmin's scrotal sack. She squeezed as if to crush the life out of it.
Nakhtmin, on his knees behind his victim, eyes closed as he neared his climax, felt a touch and then white-hot pain flashed through his groin and hips, rapidly extending down both legs and up his back. He fell to the side with a strangled shriek and curled, his hands shooting down to cover his injured anatomy. Through the waves of red pain, he was dimly aware of someone moving near him, of his dagger being wrenched from the floorboards and then a blow to the head brought blessed oblivion.
"Is he dead?" Nebhotep looked across at the still, naked figure of Nakhtmin curled in the middle of the cabin.
"Not yet," Scarab muttered. "Hold still. I don't want to cut you." She continued sawing at the ropes that bound her friend, cutting through them at last.
Nebhotep sat up with difficulty and leaned against the wall, rubbing his wrists and legs where the ropes had chafed them. He could feel bone grate within him and knew he must be careful. In his years as a physician, he had seen many men die when a broken rib pierced a lung or other internal organ. "Do you think anyone heard him cry out?"
"Almost certainly, but they'll think it was one of us and leave us alone for now. Would you disturb the Lord Nakhtmin as he took his pleasure?"
"What do we do now?" Nebhotep looked at Scarab but quickly averted his eyes.
"We leave, as quickly as we can. Into the river."
Nebhotep shook his head. "You go on, I'll take my chances." He saw Scarab's expression and explained. "I have broken ribs. If I exert myself swimming I'm dead."
"You're dead if you stay here too. You can float, can't you? I'll tow you ashore."
"Alright. What do we do about him?" He looked at Nakhtmin.
Scarab grimaced. She knelt beside the naked man and held the point of the dagger at his throat. Nakhtmin uttered hoarse whimpers of pain at her touch and tried to curl up tighter. "I should kill him and be done with it," Scarab said, "But somehow I can't. Not when he's like this."
"But these last four years you've thought of little else besides killing him and his father."
"I know. I can't explain it, but I feel I shouldn't kill him when he's helpless."
"If you leave him alive, he'll come after us."
Scarab rocked back on her heels and took the knife from Nakhtmin's throat. "That is with the gods. Here and now I cannot kill him, much as I desire to."
Nebhotep held out his hand. "I'll do it, willingly."
"No. Leave him." Scarab walked across the cabin and cautiously peered out of the hatch at the stern of the ship. The steering oars dipped down to the water on either side, bracketing her view of the swirling river water. No more than an arm's reach above her, footsteps sounded on the bare planks of the deck and murmured voices carried above the sound of the river and the creaking of wood. "I think we can ease into the water from here, then let the current carry us away from the ship."
Nebhotep hobbled slowly across the cabin, holding his side with one hand. He held Scarab's torn dress. "It's ripped but better than nothing."
"I'll use one of Nakhtmin's spare kilts. A dress will be too cumbersome for swimming." Scarab threw open a wooden chest and emptied the contents on the floor. She selected a plain linen kilt and slipped it on, knotting the cords tightly to keep the overly large garment in place. The dagger went into the waistband. Scarab then looked critically at her companion, noting the bruises on his body and the bright pain in his eyes. "What can I do for you?"
"Bind my chest tightly," Nebhotep said. "The less the broken bones move, the less danger I'll be in." He submitted, grimacing as she wound linen strips around his chest and abdomen, drawing them tight and knotting them securely. "That should do," he gasped. "Any more and I won't be able to breathe."
Scarab looked out at the water again. "I wish it was dark; we'd stand a chance of getting away unseen. Still, we cannot wait. Are you ready?"
Nebhotep nodded. "Remember I won't be able to swim like this."
"I won't let you drown."
Nakhtmin groaned on the floor behind them and opened his eyes. "H...help...help me!" he uttered in a strangled shriek. Scarab whirled, took three paces to the naked man and cracked his head on the deck. Nakhtmin's eyes rolled up in his head. A voice called from outside the cabin, querying the cry.
Scarab froze for an instant and then darted to the rear hatch. "We've got to go...now."
"Wait." Nebhotep limped over to the door. "Go away, captain," he said in his most cultured accent. "I will call you when I am done." There was silence on the other side of the door and, after listening for a few moments, he no
dded, satisfied.
Scarab lifted one leg over the edge of the hatch and beckoned to Nebhotep. "See that peg?" She pointed to where repairs had been carried out near the waterline and a peg had worked loose about two finger-widths. "I'm going to lower you until you can stand on it."
"I'll lose my balance and fall in," Nebhotep objected.
Scarab scrambled back into the cabin and grabbed the cut rope, knotting one end to a leg of the table and lowering the other end over the stern. It reached almost down to the water. "Hold onto that." Sitting astride the sill once more, she helped Nebhotep clamber down until he stood precariously poised on the peg, his body swayed outward as he clung to the rope. "Hold on tight," she said. "I'm coming down the rope myself."
She lowered herself down, her feet thudding against the wood as she went, trying to avoid Nebhotep. She was not altogether successful, but she made it down to the water with the physician suspended above her. Then the current grabbed her and swept her out from the ship and pulled Nebhotep off his precarious perch. All his weight now pulled at his arms and despite his efforts to hold on through the searing pain, he cried out and fell with a great splash into the water. He was swept astern and Scarab had to let go and swim after him. Nebhotep came to the surface coughing and spluttering, but Scarab caught him and turned him onto his back, treading water.
Sailors were running over the deck, shouting and pointing, and already the ship had lost leeway and was swinging round in the current. An archer took aim, but the officer pushed his arm down.
Scarab muttered imprecations under her breath and, with one hand under Nebhotep's chin, started swimming toward the nearest reed-lined shore. Something swirled in the water close to them and Nebhotep panicked, rolling his eyes and trying to turn his head.
"Crocodiles?" he sputtered.
Scarab fought him back into stillness and started swimming more strongly. "I think it was just a fish, but we've got bigger problems."
She reached the reeds and shallow water, helping Nebhotep to his feet. They stumbled through the mud and reeds, startling wading birds and frogs, and climbed onto lush pasture. Behind them, the ship had turned and was forging across the current toward them. In the prow stood Nakhtmin. Though he was bent over and half-supported by a sailor, they could almost feel the malevolence of his stare.
"I should have killed him," Scarab groaned. "How well can you run?"
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Chapter Thirty-Seven
Jesua's men overpowered the Amorites guarding Khu in a single stabbing rush. They took the horses of the guards and disappeared into the mountains before Abi-Hadad arrived with his men from Gubla. The prince was sanguine about the loss of his hostage as he no longer needed Khu as a hold over the woman. He ordered the dead guards to be left where they had fallen and directed his men to ride on to Taanach. The news of the bargain he had made with Nakhtmin could not wait. There was only a month in which to get the Amorite army under Jebu into position to take possession of the fort at the Bay of Gulls.
King Aziru was openly very pleased with the arrangements made by his son, though in private, when he had the ear of his Captain of Security, Ashraz, he was less happy.
"Curse the day I whelped that son of a whore. He has taken everything for himself and left nothing for me."
"I do not like to contradict you, your majesty," Ashraz said. He kept his eyes averted but waited patiently.
"Curse you too," Aziru ranted. "Alright, I pay you gold for your thoughts and your information. Tell me why you do not like to contradict me but are only too willing to."
"As your majesty wishes. First, let us enumerate your son's achievements. He has added four hundred deben of fine gold to your treasury. I might add he has taken an equal amount for himself..."
"What? Abi-Hadad has robbed me of gold? I will have his liver for that."
"No, your majesty. Let him think he has played you for the fool. His confidence grows apace and he will grow careless. You thus know something he does not. This gives you a weapon."
"But he has my gold," Aziru snarled. "A fortune, rot him."
"And I know where he has hidden it. You have lost nothing. Now, Prince Abi-Hadad also negotiated a strategic concession..."
"The fort? It is but one of twelve on the road the Kemetu call the Way of Heru. It has value, I grant, but not as much as gold."
"Much more, your majesty. He asked for Zarw first, but Nakhtmin, afraid of having us within the borders of Kemetu, offered us what he thought a lesser prize. However, the fort, which sits astride the coast road, holds the key to the delta lands and from them, to Kemetu itself."
"How so?"
Ashraz pointed to a table and a scattering of objects on it--a cup of wine, a heavy gold bracelet and an assortment of jewels. "May I demonstrate, your majesty?" He received a nod from his king and walked over to the table, followed by Aziru. Picking up the gold bracelet, Ashraz placed it on an open part of the wooden surface. "This is Kemet--the prize." He dipped his finger in the wine and with a series of strokes, sketched out a curved line in the red liquid. "This is the coast and here..." he strung a gold chain, "...is the coast road. This other chain is the Way of Heru, with these jewels the forts that guard Kemet."
"This one is the Bay of Gulls?" Aziru asked, tapping a bright topaz.
"Yes. Our army is here..." he placed the cup a small distance from the line of jewels, "...and this piece of gold is the remnant of their northern army. Jebu has been pushing them slowly southward since his great victory, but he risks everything if he goes much further."
"Why?"
"The line of forts. Two legions face Jebu and the forts themselves hold no more than another legion..."
"And Jebu has the equivalent of four legions with the reinforcements we sent him."
"Yes, your majesty, but they are low quality troops. It is possible Jebu would win if all three legions faced him in the field, given the new tactics he has devised, but the Kemetu will not send in all their legions. Two are mobile and the other is virtually impregnable in the forts. It will be very difficult, if not impossible, for Jebu to crack that line open."
"What is your point?"
"The Bay of Gulls." Ashraz tapped the topaz. "No doubt Nakhtmin offered it because it is the smallest of the forts and the one in worst repair, but it could be the most important."
"How?"
"The forts run roughly east to west across the southern border of Kenaan, not far north of Sinai. The exception is the Bay of Gulls. It lies on the coast, half a day's march south of the other forts. If this fort is garrisoned by a strong detachment of our best troops, we have a spear poised to pierce Kemet. We outflank the forts. Further, they cannot approach us from the coast side. Their only option is to abandon the forts and build another string further south, or to pull back their northern army behind the forts to guard against our spear."
Aziru studied the rough map, adding to the coastline with his finger as the wine dried. "What's to stop them just taking the fort back?"
"In reality, nothing but the honour of the next king of Kemet." Ashraz smiled. "I know, your majesty, that is not the most marketable commodity, but he will scarce go against the agreement this early, not while his own throne is in the balance." Aziru frowned but said nothing. "The other thing of value to come out of this meeting in Gubla is the identification of General Horemheb and General Paramessu as contenders for the throne. Perhaps more importantly, Nakhtmin has identified them as such and will move against them immediately."
"He would not be such a fool as to deprive Kemet of their two best generals."
Ashraz grinned. "If he does, we win, because no other commander can stand against Jebu. If he does not, he risks losing Kemet."
"How are we better off if Horemheb wins?"
"He will not win at once. Nakhtmin is an able general and he has most of the army loyal. We can be guaranteed six months of unrest, during which time our spear at the Bay of Gulls stabs into the heart of the del
ta, and our army starves the forts into submission. Whoever triumphs in Kemet will face an enemy on his doorstep."
Aziru nodded sagely. "Prince Abi-Hadad did well then, it seems. What about the other concession?"
"Becoming heir to Kemet?" Ashraz shrugged. "I would not put too much store in it. Nakhtmin has no heir yet, but you can be certain he will strive to rectify that. He then faces a minority of say, fifteen years before his son is ready for the reins of power."
"Niburre Tutankamen was only nine when he acceded."
"But he had an Ay to guide him. I cannot see another such strong man taking over. No, your majesty, my guess is that Nakhtmin will produce a son and nurture him until he is ready, and then make him co-ruler, ensuring the succession."
"So what was the point of Abi-Hadad being made heir?"
"A lot may happen in fifteen years. At the very least, Amurru will be in a favoured nation status and with careful planning and execution, together with our spear..." Ashraz tapped the topaz again, "...we may yet take over Kemet."
Aziru nodded. "I will be king for many years yet, but it is wise to be prepared. My son has done well--he needs to be rewarded. I think I shall keep him close, where I can keep my eyes on him."
"Indeed, your majesty. It would not be wise to allow the Prince too much freedom. He may take it into his head to precipitate events. If I might make a suggestion..." Ashraz waited for a nod from his king. "Give Prince Abi-Hadad control of a northern province as a reward. Tell him it is preparation for higher office. It will satisfy his thirst for power and wealth and keep him far from Kemet."
"And what do I do about Kemet?"
"Order Jebu into the fort of the Bay of Gulls. Instruct him to expand it and strengthen it, securing supply lines up the coast. I would also have him give his commanders autonomy, letting them roam the southern borders. This will force the northern army of Kemet to do likewise and keep the forts guessing as to our intentions. You destabilise their fort defences and strengthen our own."
Aziru's examined the makeshift map once more, tracing patterns on the wood with his forefinger. He nodded sagely. "Draw up the necessary documents, Ashraz. We will follow your plan."
