by Overton, Max
"It may hold them until full light tomorrow," Nakhtmin explained. "We are going to need all the time we can get."
Nakhtmin pulled out an hour later, moving slowly and quietly for the first few thousand paces, and then picking up the pace. Nobody faltered, least of all the wounded that had opted to accompany the remnants of their legion, for they knew that any that fell would be left for the uncertain welcome of the oncoming Nubians. Running at night was easier than during the day, but after a day of heavy fighting, the men's strength gave out faster. Nakhtmin called a halt in the darkness before first light, when the stars still shone brilliantly in the cold desert air, allowing the men to collapse exhausted onto the road. The general drove himself on though, walking among his soldiers, encouraging those that were still awake, and issuing instructions for the day. Raia, the troop commander, walked with him.
"How long have we got, sir?" Raia asked when they reached the end of the column and stared out into the darkness, over the miles that lay behind them.
"A few hours, I'd say. There were plenty of Nubians who did not take part in the fighting yesterday. If I was their commanding general, I'd order them to keep us on the run, not giving us time to rest, until the main army caught up."
"Is there no hope then, sir?"
Nakhtmin heard the quaver in the young man's voice and bit back a harsh comment. "There's always hope, especially for the King and Tjaty if we do our duty. Trust in the gods, Raia. None of us live forever and the best a soldier can hope for is a good death."
Dawn revealed an open plain with almost no cover, and Nakhtmin ordered his men up and moving again. "If we stay here we'll be surrounded and slaughtered," he said. "We must find a defensible position or else reach the safety of Ta-senet ."
Encouraged by blows from the whips of their officers, the men complained but staggered to their feet and set off toward Ta-senet in a shambling run. Water ran out and as the sun climbed in the sky the pace slackened to a walk. As noon approached, a warning cry from the rear of "Enemy in sight!" sent a wave of panic through the exhausted troops. Nakhtmin looked around despairingly and noticed a small boulder-strewn hillock a few hundred paces to the west of the road.
He pointed. "Men of the Amun legion, the gods have been merciful. They have provided a place for us to die with honour instead of dying like cattle on the plains."
They filled the hillock and spilled around it, rolling boulders down the slopes to form a crude rampart at the base. When they had done as much as they could, they sat in the few scraps of shade or stood leaning on the baking boulders, and watched the Nubian army spill over the plain like the creeping waters of the flood over the river flats. The Nubians marched past without stopping, ignoring the few hundred men on the hillock, on toward Ta-senet and the heart of Ta Shemau. Nakhtmin and the man of Amun watched them with mixed feelings, grief at seeing such ferocity heading toward their homes, but also a growing sense of hope that they might yet live beyond that day's end. Then their hopes shattered as a legion turned off the road and marched toward them over the red desert. The Nubians surrounded the tiny enclave of Amun, pressing close as if contemptuous of any archers still among the enemy.
Nakhtmin considered using the few arrows at his disposal but decided to wait and see what happened. He did not have long to wait. A bearded man, the same one as before, stepped out of the Nubian ranks and called on them to surrender.
General Nakhtmin clambered up on a rock and stared back at the man arrogantly. "Who are you to demand our surrender? Return to Nubia before you feel the full force of the king's anger."
The bearded man laughed, the Nubians joining in with full-throated, humourless chuckles that raised the hairs on Nakhtmin's arms. "I am Menkure, Tjaty to the divine majesty of Djeserkheperu Smenkhkare. Surrender now and he will spare your lives, offering you the choice of exile from the land of Kemet or joining with him in his fight against the pretender on his throne."
"Not much of a choice," Nakhtmin called back. "Death on the one hand or breaking our oaths on the other, for none would willingly choose exile." He looked around at his exhausted men and at the encircling enemy and knew if it came to a fight, it would be brief and pointless. "Offer another choice, Menkure. Instead of exile, let my men swear to return to their homes and fight no more, for they have merely followed orders as we are all bound to do."
Menkure stood silent for a few minutes, deep in thought. "Agreed," he said, nodding. "But you must surrender your person and await the king's pleasure."
"Very well, I accept on behalf of my men." Nakhtmin jumped down and led his men out from their tiny redoubt, standing to one side as they laid their weapons down and were marched off.
"They will be taken to Ta-senet where they will await the king's victory. Then they may return to their homes." Menkure limped over to Nakhtmin and stared into his eyes. "I do not know you, General, though I thought I knew every general in Kemet."
"I am Nakhtmin, son of Djetmaktef--also adopted son of Tjaty Ay."
"Indeed?" Menkure's eyes widened. "Then you will be brought before Djeserkheperu, for you are the son of his hated enemy. I would not stand in your sandals today."
Nakhtmin stared back at the bearded man. "Of what worth then, is the promise of your king?" he sneered.
"No promise was made, save that you be brought before him to face his justice."
Nakhtmin threw himself forward, scooping a curved bronze sword off the sand and held it to Menkure's throat. "And of what worth is your life now?" he asked softly.
"Do not be a fool. Look about you. You would be cut down before you could harm me."
General Nakhtmin pressed the point of the sword into the soft flesh at the base of Menkure's throat and risked a glance to the side. Twenty paces away a dozen bows were drawn but he could see no arrows, just the sharp bronze tips glinting in the harsh sunlight. "We would die together," he whispered.
Swiftly, Menkure stepped back a pace, leaving General Nakhtmin exposed. Smenkhkare's Tjaty raised his hand and stared dispassionately at him. "What is it to be, General? Do you die now or bow before the true king of Kemet?"
Nakhtmin lowered his sword and looked around slowly, seeing many more archers on the other side and behind him, all equally ready to kill him. He laughed and threw down his sword. "Take me to this king of yours and I will measure his worth. I make no promises to bow before him, for I have already sworn loyalty before the gods to my king in Men-nefer, and to the Tjaty, my adoptive father."
Menkure beckoned to a tall Nubian officer and bade him take Nakhtmin to Ta-senet and incarcerate him with his men. "When Smenkhkare is once more enthroned in Waset, you will be sent for," he told Nakhtmin.
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Chapter Thirty
Smenkhkare entered Ta-senet in state, borne aloft by his veterans in a makeshift throne. The mayor of the town, though uncertain of the legality of the situation, bowed to expediency where the huge Nubian army appeared, threw open the gates and made the returning king welcome. The king allowed the mayor and other town officials to prostrate themselves before him, and then imposed nine years of back taxes, ripping every shred of food, wine and gold from the treasury. Nobody complained, so the king prohibited his Nubians from entering the town as a reward. The small garrison surrendered without a fight and was pressed into service immediately. Nakhtmin and the survivors of the Amun legion who had not switched sides were housed in the barracks and placed under an honour system not to leave the town limits for a month.
"It will be all over by then," Menkure explained. "One way or the other."
Smenkhkare called together his Council of Advisors to an informal meeting under the shade of a great tamarind tree on the banks of Iteru. The new Council included three from the old one back in Waset so long ago--Scarab, Khu, and Nebhotep. More recent additions were Menkure, the king's Tjaty; Huni, as newly appointed Fan Bearer on the King's Right Hand; and Taharqa, the Senka chief captured by the previous chief of the Suri. In the wee
ks following the battle and Scarab's taking over of the Suri through single combat, the old chief had slowly recovered under Nebhotep's ministrations. His insights and advice on the management of the Suri had proved invaluable to Scarab and she had asked for his inclusion in the new Council. Now, as she walked to the meeting, with Khu beside her, she breathed in the cool, moist air and reveled in the greenness of the countryside, a welcome change from the barren red desert of Deshret. Herons stalked amongst the reeds, swallows and dragonflies in jeweled colours dipped and soared above the water, catching insects, while grasshoppers sang in the long grass and butterflies danced over a sprinkling of blossoms on the bushes beside the river.
"We are home, Khu." Scarab skipped and twirled, throwing her head back to soak in the rays of the somehow gentler sun of the River Valley. "A few months more and I will see my beloved son. I cannot believe it has been over five years. He will not remember me, but I will bring him to the court and give him my love and every bit of my attention and he will soon learn to know me as his mother again."
Khu smiled and nodded, not wanting to say anything that might dispel the joy in her heart. "It is much better than the desert," he agreed. "And after Ay is defeated, we can all go home and live in peace." They joined the king and other members of the Council and took their seats on the ground beneath the tree.
Menkure called the meeting to order and outlined the military situation as his spies had revealed it. "Horemheb is in Waset, together with Tutankhamen and Ay. They have with them three legions drawn from the northern army and the cities of Ta Mehu, together with conscripts, around twelve thousand men. We outnumber them but we should not underestimate the skill and training of the legions."
"I thought the whole point of taking the Setweh route was to cut Horemheb out of the picture," Smenkhkare said, "What went wrong?"
"I don't know," Menkure said simply. "I can only imagine he came down to Waset for some reason of his own and brought the legions with him."
"It does not matter why," Scarab said, stretching her legs out on the soft grass and leaning back on her arms. "He is in Waset and we must make the best of it."
"Your sister is right, Djeser," Menkure went on. "We must decide how we are going to defeat Horemheb and his legions, not complain about his presence." Smenkhkare frowned as his Tjaty came very close to accusing the king of complaining, but decided not to say anything.
"Our men are well trained and enthusiastic," Huni stated. "We can defeat him if we choose our ground well. To me, the choice comes down to meeting him here at Ta-senet where we can prepare the field, and facing him outside Waset. That too has a certain advantage as we know the land from before."
"I do not like the thought of Waset," Menkure mused. "Horemheb can venture out of the city at his leisure, while we must wait outside. I say we let him come to us."
"Would it not be better to avoid him altogether?" Khu asked.
"Of course it would," Menkure snapped. "But how are we going to achieve that? Horemheb's no fool."
Khu shook his head. "I don't know, I was just thinking out loud."
"Well, say nothing until you can say something constructive. Now, has anyone else an opinion about where we fight?"
"Actually," Scarab said slowly. "Khu's right. If we could avoid meeting Horemheb until after we deposed Tutankhamen and Ay, we would stand a much better chance."
Menkure scowled but was not about to start criticizing the king's beloved sister in front of him. "How would we do that?" he asked levelly.
Scarab thought for a few moments before replying. "There are three ways between Waset and Ta-senet --by river, by the main East road, and by the back-country West road. If we could convince Horemheb we were going to take one of these, we might persuade him to come and meet us there. Meanwhile, we take another road and slip past him to an undefended Waset."
"It might work," Menkure said grudgingly. "But I don't know what argument you are going to use to persuade him."
"Of more importance might be to decide which way we are going to march, so we know which way to lure Horemheb," said Nebhotep. "We do not have more than a handful of fishing boats, so we cannot transport the army by water. The same problem faces us if we try to cross the river here to access the East road." The physician shrugged. "Perhaps we have little choice after all."
"How do we cross the river at Waset?" Khu asked. "Won't we have trouble doing it under the walls of the city? Archers on the walls could cut us to pieces."
"And boats," Huni added. "Will we find enough to get us across quickly? I don't like our military situation if we are caught straddling the river."
"It might be more sensible to cross the river here, where we can do so in peace," Scarab commented. "But we have the problem with boats again. It may take days to cross using just the few fishing boats we have."
"You have never had to cross the plains rivers when following the migrating herds," Taharqa said in his deep, mellow voice. "We plains tribes do it all the time and we don't have boats. Admittedly, our rivers are not nearly as wide as this one, but what works with one should work with all."
"What works, old man?" Huni said roughly.
"You don't need boats, just lots of cattle or goats or wild animals. You skin the beasts and sew the hides up, inflating them with air. Each one will keep a dozen men afloat. And if you don't have enough beasts you send the hides back for the next lot. A whole army could cross like that."
Menkure laughed. "Maybe in the small rivers you are used to, but the waters of Iteru would just sweep the men away. With luck you'd find them half-drowned when the rest of us got to Waset."
"Tie the skins together into rafts, attach a rope to both ends so a full raft can be pulled across and an empty one pulled back," Taharqa explained patiently.
"That could work," Huni commented. "And we have wood we can use too."
"Very well," Smenkhkare said. "We have the means to cross the river. Do we do it here and take the East road, or take the West road and cross at Waset. You are my Councilors--counsel me."
"We will be opposed at Waset," Scarab said. "Cross here."
"I agree," Khu said stoutly.
"What a surprise," murmured Huni. Louder, he said, "They won't expect the West road. I say we take it."
"I'm inclined to agree," Nebhotep said. "But I also think Horemheb will suspect it for just that reason. I vote for the East."
"East," Taharqa said simply.
"Four to one already," Menkure said with a smile. "I would have said West but I'm not going to be so outnumbered. I choose East."
"East it is," Smenkhkare concluded. "I am glad of it too as I would rather advance openly on Waset to reclaim my throne."
Huni grumbled that he had been left to look like a dissenter and asked permission to change his vote to fit in with the majority. Smenkhkare smilingly assented but gave him an important task.
"We must make certain that Horemheb believes we will use the West road and that we can be surprised and defeated on that road. I give that essential task to you. You have until sunset today."
Huni frowned worriedly, but bowed to his king. "May I ask for the assistance of the Lady Scarab? I have found her mind to be quick and incisive."
The king nodded his assent and the two of them hurried off to start planning. Khu gazed after them wistfully, but soon gave his attention to the other task at hand--the preparation of the fleet of rafts.
"This must be done out of sight of anyone in Ta-senet ," Menkure explained. "If there are enemies, they will be here, so we must keep this completely secret."
"Let me take the Suri south a day's travel," Taharqa said, "With as many goats and cattle as we can find. We will build the rafts there and float them down the river when we are done."
"Take as many as you need, both of men and animals. I will give out that you are seeking grazing for them."
Scarab and Huni sought out a high point where they could overlook the town of Ta-senet , the river, and at least the start of the rough road
that plunged north into the densely planted fields on the west bank of Iteru. They sat on the rocky outcrop and looked about them for several minutes, just enjoying the breeze in that exposed position.
"It's not much of a road," Scarab said, pointing. "I'm not sure I'd believe we were bringing a whole army along it."
"We can widen it, straighten it and fill in all the pits and hollows," Huni replied. "We have the men available and if we put in some effort, Horemheb may take us seriously."
"Is that all we can do, though? Horemheb and Ay are cunning and may see right through something simple."
"What do you suggest?"
"I don't know," Scarab said. "But I think we need to think of another reason." They sat and considered the problem for a long time but failed to think of a convincing reason for Horemheb to believe them. "Let's think of it another way, Huni. You are a soldier. What do soldiers think is important on the eve of a battle? What would you consider if you were taking a particular route?"
"Hmm, I'd consider the lie of the land, what roads were like...where the water is...are there any places where we could be ambushed, what the priests said when they sacrificed to the gods..."
"Wait, let's have a look at those first," Scarab said. "The lie of the land is fairly obvious, it's just flat farmland, the roads are narrow but passable, the river supplies the water, I don't know about ambush sites and the priests have not yet sacrificed so I can't say what that outcome will be."
"There may be other things but I haven't really thought about it."
"What if..." Scarab's voice trailed off and she rested her chin on her updrawn knee. "What if we really were going down the West road and wanted a good site to ambush Horemheb when he comes to meet us? Would our preparations convince him then that that was our intention?"
