The Amarnan Kings, Book 3: Scarab - Tutankhamen

by Overton, Max

Jebu sank down, hiding in the shadows again. "We are betrayed," he whispered.

  "Ashraz?"

  "Of course, who else? See, he signals to them."

  Ashraz made several vague, ambiguous arm movements, and almost immediately the men concealed behind the ridges started easing forward in a noose centreed on the cave. They descended the slopes slowly, carefully, using every measure of cover they could find and carefully examining each potential hiding place. By the time they reached the neighborhood of the cave they were walking upright and were no more than a few paces apart. Ashraz flew into a temper at the lack of result and even across the valley, Jebu could hear him swearing.

  "I think that confirms it, don't you?" Jebu asked.

  "Ashraz and Aziru planned this together? Yes, but what about Ephras? Is he guilty too?"

  "Look who told us about him." Jebu gestured to where Ashraz and his troops were starting back down the zigzag trail. "Would you trust anything he says?"

  "So what do we do?"

  "I think we should ask Ephras to his face."

  Jebu waited until the last of the men had disappeared into the evening gloom before emerging from his hiding place. He ate a quick meal and set off up the ridge and out of the valley, away from his cave and from Taanach and set a course by the stars for the last known position of the Amorite and Hittite armies.

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  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Ay and Nakhtmin held a hurried conference on the eastern bank of Iteru near the town of Min. They put the messenger from the south through an intense session of questioning, determined to find out whether there was any truth to the news.

  "Does it matter?" Nakhtmin murmured to Ay, drawing him away from where the messenger stood. "I mean, this could just be an ill-founded rumour. Smenkhkare is in Nubia, didn't you say? We should press on and secure the king."

  "And if it really is Smenkhkare? What then? While we are off capturing Tutankhamen, our old enemy makes himself king in Waset again and raises the whole countryside in support. Do you want a civil war?"

  Nakhtmin looked troubled. "It would not come to that, would it? He has been in exile for nine years. How much support could he raise?"

  "For some reason, the common people like him. No, we cannot ignore this threat. We might have to put our own plans in abeyance for the time being."

  Ay walked back over to the waiting messenger. "How many men are with this bearded pretender to the thrones of Kemet?"

  "I did not see them myself sir. The commander of the garrison at Kharga sent me to bring word to you, my lord. He has had reports from the merchants on the Kharga-Sitweh road and sent a patrol out to check. They came back confirming the sightings, so Commander Disebek; he calls me in and..."

  "Enough!" Ay snapped. "I have no interest in all this drivel. Answer my questions directly. How many men has he?"

  "Yes, my lord. Sorry, my lord. The patrol is not sure, only seeing the front part of the army, you see. They came up on them suddenly and..." The messenger caught the glint of anger in the Tjaty's eyes and swallowed what he was about to say. "Five thousand, my lord, maybe more. Mostly Nubian tribesmen in skins and feathers. A few men of Kemet and a man in the double crown."

  "That is not such a great threat," Nakhtmin said. "Even if Smenkhkare...or rather, the man calling himself Smenkhkare," he quickly added for the messenger's benefit. "Even if he has double that, they are only tribesmen. My men could rout them without raising a sweat."

  Ay looked thoughtful and, ignoring Nakhtmin's confidence, continued to question the messenger. "Where were they seen?"

  "When I left, they were about halfway between Kharga and Sitweh, my lord. Commander Disebek means to shut the gates and defy..."

  "When was this? Exactly?"

  The messenger started doing some complex calculations involving his fingers and a lot of muttering. "I came by horse to Ta-senet , then by boat, my lord. I was five days riding and three on the river, so I...that makes seven days."

  "Eight," Ay said absently, doing some calculations of his own. "They're on foot so they won't be much past Kharga. General, how long to march your men south to Ta-senet ?"

  "Ten days. You're not seriously contemplating doing that?"

  "In ten days he'll be nearing Ta-senet ," Ay concluded. "Nakhtmin, I want you to take your men south to Ta-senet immediately. As you pass Waset, collect every man you can, and the Medjay. Leave Psenamy to organise the old men and crippled veterans to act as a temporary Medjay. Meet the enemy beyond Ta-senet and crush him. Capture this man who pretends to be Smenkhkare."

  "And what of..." Nakhtmin glanced meaningfully at the messenger, "...our other business in the north."

  "That can wait. This threat to the Kingdoms must be answered first." Ay dismissed the messenger and told him to report to the officers for assignment within the army, cautioning him not to risk punishment by spreading rumours. Turning back to his adopted son, he put an arm around him affectionately. "Exercise caution, my son. From everything Horemheb has said of Smenkhkare and his general Menkure, they are cunning and capable of great deceit. You must use your judgment when you meet them. If you can be certain of crushing them, then do so, but if there is doubt, withdraw in front of them, if necessary as far back as Waset."

  "If you say so, father, but tribesmen do not sound dangerous. From what I've heard they are undisciplined and likely to flee when things go badly for them."

  "I will leave it to your judgment. Just bear in mind I'd rather have a live son and an intact army than a dead one and a shattered one."

  Nakhtmin nodded. "I will remember. What will you do? Go back to Waset?"

  "Yes, I will organise a defence there. Also, I need to cancel that report to Horemheb concerning Smenkhkare's sighting in the eastern desert. There are more useful things for him to be doing than chasing after phantoms."

  Nakhtmin left to order the army turned and started on its way back to Waset. Although the messenger from the south was in fear for his life and would not say anything, his mere presence, coupled with the army's about-face, spawned a hundred rumours, some of them quite close to the truth. They had progressed no more than two days when another messenger arrived, this time the one Ay had sent north to intercept the man taking the false report to Horemheb.

  "My lords," the messenger said, flinging himself off his horse to kneel before the Tjaty. "The king and Lord Horemheb."

  Ay looked at Nakhtmin, cautioning silence. "What about them? You cannot have made it to Men-nefer and back in two days."

  "No, Lord Ay. The king is marching south with Lord Horemheb and three legions. They are only a day's ride north of here. As soon as I saw them I judged it better that I report this to you. My lord, if Horemheb is here, your other message will not get through anyway."

  Ay nodded. "Quite right. You did well." He sent the man off to get food and water.

  "Has Horemheb also received word of Smenkhkare's approach?" Nakhtmin asked.

  "He must have. What other reason could he have to march south, but why did he bring the king? This could be a dangerous situation."

  Nakhtmin grinned. "That could play into our hands then."

  "Not with Horemheb present. How many times do I have to say it? Our only chance lies in separating him from the king."

  The general shrugged. "What do we do then, join them? He outranks me, remember. Any victory will be his, not mine."

  "No, you do as planned. I will go to Tutankhamen and Horemheb and welcome them as saviours. You, however, must now deliver me at least a partial victory. Delay Smenkhkare's army, damage it, but make sure you reach Waset with as much of your legion intact. The deciding battle will be fought outside Waset again."

  Nakhtmin nodded and saluted. He hurried off and within minutes had detached the Amun legion from the others and had started them south again. Ay turned the others north once more and set off to meet the king, wondering exactly what he was going to say to achieve the maximum benefit from the meeting. The pr
esence of Horemheb would complicate matters, as usual, but the problem should not be insurmountable. Having taken steps to meet the menace already would certainly help.

  Nakhtmin and his men made good time, moving as fast as they could back down the military roads to Waset and beyond. He halted in the City of Amun for an hour, to set the defenses in order, and to board barges for the river crossing. The roads on the eastern bank were in better repair and would enable a faster trip, but it was doubtful there were enough barges in Ta-senet to bring his legion over quickly. Use of the Waset barges would facilitate the crossing though movement through the western farmland would be slower.

  Eight days later, the Amun legion reached Ta-senet to find the population in a panic and the commander of the small local garrison debating whether to stand and fight against impossible odds or to flee with the townsfolk. Nakhtmin spent half a day stiffening the commander's resolve and organizing the town's defense before hurrying on up the now-deserted trade road that connected Ta-senet and Kharga.

  Three days after leaving Ta-senet , in mid-afternoon, the Amun legion found the scouts of the Nubian army. Travel up the Kharga road was necessarily slower than previous progress. The road forged into the western desert, the red lands of Deshret, where there was no shade, little water and life seemed limited to wheeling kites above and scorpions beneath every rock. Onto a straight stretch of road a hundred paces ahead of the Amun legion trotted a small band of Nubians, no more than fifty tribesmen dressed in kilts of leather and fur bands around biceps and ankles. They carried spears and seemed surprised to find armed men in the middle of the desert. The Nubians hesitated for vital seconds and Nakhtmin ordered his front unit to charge, throwing the Nubians into confusion. Archers mopped up the few that broke free and none were seen to escape to take word to Smenkhkare.

  Nakhtmin drew up his legion into a defensive formation and advanced slowly, ready for further action. It came within the hour, as he led his men through a narrow section of the road as it dipped down into a dry stream bed between large boulders. The vanguard of the Nubian army appeared and halted in sight of Nakhtmin's legion. They made no move to attack, so Nakhtmin concluded word was being taken back to Smenkhkare. He decided the delay could be profitably exploited by setting up a good strong defensive position. Archers were sent into the boulders flanking the road, from which vantage point they would be able to cover the road but would be difficult to dislodge. The men on the road were drawn up into a solid formation with instructions not to be drawn into an attack, but to defend until the nature of the enemy could be ascertained. Nakhtmin worried over defending the stream bed as his men would be fighting up the slope. He would have preferred to pull back to high ground, but if he did this his archers would have no cover, so he shrugged and decided to make the best of it.

  A Nubian company came over the rise and started down the slope toward the Amun legion waiting at the bottom. They all carried long spears and seemed unusually disciplined for tribesmen, advancing steadily without showing any tendency to break out and charge individually. Another unnerving difference was their total silence.

  "Steady, Amun," Nakhtmin called, drawing his curved bronze blade. Abruptly, the steadily approaching tribesmen let out a horrific yell and launched themselves forward at a run. Twenty paces away, the long spears carried aloft swung down and a bristling hedge of bronze-tipped shafts smashed into the front ranks of the Amun legion. Men dropped or reeled away screaming or weeping. Others chopped futilely at the hardwood spears and a few managed to duck under the spears and hack at the bodies of the attackers. A storm of arrows flew out of the boulders on either side of the road and the Nubian attack faltered, the men drawing back, leaving drifts of dead and dying behind.

  Nakhtmin yelled for the men to clear their comrades to the rear, killing any too badly wounded to survive. The wounded Nubians were slaughtered without a thought. Before the job was finished, a second company of Nubians attacked and the side columns of these ones carried enormous bull's hide shields instead of spears. They stabbed deep into the Amun legion, but this time when the arrows flew, the shields protected the men from the worst of it. The Nubians were beaten back eventually and a third wave rolled in. This time, the Amun legion was forced to withdraw about twenty paces and as the enemy was beaten off again, Nakhtmin could see that nearly a quarter of his legion had been killed or wounded. Worse, the small retreat had left his archers exposed and the next Nubian attack also sent men into the boulders armed only with knives. Less than half of his archers survived that tactic, and they fell back behind the column on the road.

  Mindful of the Tjaty's instructions, Nakhtmin ordered a retreat after the sixth attack, as soon as the Nubians drew back, squads took it in turns to run back, form another defensive line and cover their comrades. The wounded men who could not walk were given the option of a swift death or being left to face the unknown mercies of the Nubians. Most chose a merciful killing.

  Night fell swiftly before a seventh attack could be mounted, though thousands of the enemy poured through the narrow defile of the dry stream bed and out onto the plain. Nakhtmin had noted the lay of the land as they advanced and now he ordered a further rapid retreat to another defensible position well to the rear. Guided only by starlight, the men of the Amun legion turned and ran back down the road toward Ta-senet . On reaching the position, a broad valley between high cliffs, their general called a halt and after setting out his dispositions for the next day, placed guards and ordered the men to eat a meal and get some sleep.

  The attack came with the dawn, a wave of black bodies sweeping down the road like the river in flood. Nakhtmin watched the advance from a boulder and managed to hide his fear from his men. Whoever said five thousand lied. There are four or five times that and I only have half a legion left .

  Smenkhkare's army halted just out of bowshot and spread out across the valley from cliff to cliff. A bearded man limped out from the ranks and cupping his hands, shouted to the Kemetu force.

  "Who stands in the way of the army of King Djeserkheperu Smenkhkare?"

  Nakhtmin filled his lungs and bellowed a reply. "General Nakhtmin and the Amun legion. I do not recognise the legitimacy of your king. I follow Tjaty Ay who acts in the name of Nebkheperure Tutankhamen."

  The bearded man made an impatient gesture and called again. "Stand aside and we will let you live."

  Nakhtmin laughed and the men of the Amun legion marveled at his bravery and contempt for the enemy. "Surrender now," he called, "And I will let you live, all except that pretender to the thrones of Kemet." By way of answer, the bearded man turned on his heel and limped back into the ranks of the Nubian army.

  Nakhtmin had chosen his position well. Smenkhkare's native army launched an attack on a broad front, hoping to overwhelm the defenders, but the nature of the broken ground and the high cliffs reduced the ordered charge to a rabble and the long months of training came to nothing. The centre of the valley became a seething mass of humanity, the bright bronze flashing in the sun soon covered by a pall of dust and blood. Despite overwhelming numbers, only a hundred or so men could get to grips with the enemy at any one time, and these men of the Amun legion were entirely different from any they had fought before.

  The Nubians pulled back to lick their wounds, and then tried a different tactic, throwing in narrow spearheads of men, hoping to break through the enemy ranks. The first attack almost succeeded, failing only because insufficient men were poured in after the breach in the defender's ranks. The Amun legion threw them back, plugging the gap. The second attack amassed many men behind the spearhead. Nakhtmin knew his line would be breached if this charge hit his ranks with the full force of the hundreds following, so as the spearhead formation picked its way slowly over the broken ground, Nakhtmin ordered a charge of his own. The Amun legion raced forward and hit the attacking spearmen on the broken ground where they were distracted by having to find their footing as well as defend themselves. The tight formation was shattered and the spearmen, wieldin
g their cumbersome weapons, were no match for nimble swordsmen. Nakhtmin's men killed many Nubians before snatching up the fallen spears and retreating quickly to their former lines.

  The General had immediately seen the worth of the new tactic, so when the next attack came, Nakhtmin positioned a hundred of his men at the centre of the line, standing and kneeling four men deep, holding the long spears almost horizontally with the butts wedged in the stony ground. The spear points formed an intimidating hedge that, as the men holding them were not moving, was relatively hard to disrupt. After a wave or two of Nubian warriors had tested the defenses, leaving many dead behind, Smenkhkare brought out archers to dispose of them.

  Nakhtmin hurriedly ordered them to drop the spears and seek shelter under shields and behind boulders. As soon as the hail of arrows stopped, the men ran out to resume their positions. The Nubians tried again, charging forward under cover of the flights of arrows but as the arrows killed friend and foe alike, the archers had to be ordered to stop, giving Nakhtmin's men time to resume their hedge formation. The afternoon dragged on toward evening but the Nubians could not dislodge the Amun legion from their position in the valley. At nightfall, the attacks stopped and Nakhtmin took stock of his situation. Less than half of his men were left with the ability to fight, scarcely eight hundred men, and provisions were running low.

  His single surviving troop commander remained buoyant. "We can hold out at least another day, sir. Morale is high despite our losses."

  "They are good men, Raia, but by nightfall tomorrow we would not have the strength to resist longer. Besides, when the enemy finds a way around or up the cliffs, they will surround us. We must fall back tonight under cover of darkness."

  "As you command sir, but we have over a hundred wounded who cannot walk or fight."

  Nakhtmin sighed. "You know what must be, Raia. Give them the choice of a swift death or being left behind."

  "Yes sir." Raia saluted and hurried off.

  Nakhtmin ordered fires to be set fifty paces in front of their position, using anything flammable that could be gleaned from the desert. The enemy ranks showed only a few glimmerings of light indicating they were having as much difficulty finding fuel. Large boulders were rolled across the road and broken spears set between them with helmets placed on poles to give the impression of defenders still in position.