River God: A Novel of Ancient Egypt (Novels of Ancient Egypt)

by Wilbur Smith

  ‘The true huntsman understands and respects the birds and the animals that he hunts,’ I told him, and he nodded seriously.

  ‘I want to be a true huntsman and a soldier, just like Lord Tanus.’

  ‘A man is not born with such gifts. He must learn them, in the same way that you must learn to be a great and just ruler.’

  I felt a pang of regret when Tanus called to me that the horses were watered, and I looked back to see the charioteers mounting up. I would have preferred to spend the rest of that day with my prince watching the royal show upon the plains below me. I went back reluctantly to take up the reins and to drive our chariot back to the head of the column.

  On the footplates of the other chariots, the archers had their bows strung, and the fever of the hunt gripped every man. They were like hounds on a short leash with the scent in their nostrils.

  ‘Ho, Lord Tanus!’ Kratas shouted across to us. ‘A wager on the outcome?’

  Before Tanus could reply, I murmured, ‘Take one for me. The old braggart has never shot from the back of a flying chariot.’

  ‘Clean kills only,’ Tanus called back to him. ‘Any animal with another man’s arrow in it, not to count.’ Every archer marked the shaft of his arrow with his own motif, so that he might claim it later. Tanus’ mark was the Wadjet, the wounded Eye of Horus. ‘One gold deben for each oryx with your arrow in it.’

  ‘Make it two,’ I suggested. ‘One for me.’ I am not a gambling man, but this was not a gamble. Tanus had his new recurved bow, and I was the best charioteer in the whole of our army.

  We were still novices, but I had studied the Hyksos’ use of the chariot. Every evolution that their squadrons had performed on that terrible day on the plain of Abnub was graven on my memory. To me this was not merely a hunt for meat and sport, but practice and training for the much greater game of war. We had to learn to run our formations to the very best advantage and to control them in the full flight and confusion of battle, while circumstances changed with every movement of the enemy, and every chance and hazard of war.

  As we trotted down on to the plain, I gave the first signal, and the column split into three files. Smoothly we opened up like the petals of a lily. The flankers curled out like the horns of a bull to surround the quarry, while my column in the centre deployed into line abreast, with three chariot lengths between our wheel-hubs. We were the chest of the bull. The horns would hold the enemy while we came up and crushed him in our savage embrace.

  Ahead of us, the scattered herds of gazelle threw up their heads and gazed at us with the first stirring of alarm. They began to drift away, gathering up their fellows as they passed, small herds combining into larger, the way that a single boulder rolling down the slope will bring down the landslide. Soon the entire plain was alive with moving oryx. They cantered with a peculiar rocking motion, and dust rose in a pale mist and hung over their swaying backs. Their long, dark tails swished from side to side.

  I held my own squadron down to a walk. I did not want to tire the horses too soon with a long, stern chase. I was watching the denser, taller dust-clouds thrown up by the two flanking columns circling swiftly out on each side of the herd.

  At last they came together far ahead, and the ring was closed. The herds of oryx slowed down as they found their escape-route blocked. They began to mill in confusion as those in the lead turned back and ran into the ranks that followed.

  Obedient to my orders, once the flanking columns had completed the encircling movement, they also slowed to an easy walk, and turned in towards the centre of the circle. We had the huge herd of oryx in our fist, and slowly we closed our grip upon them. Most of the bewildered animals came to a halt, uncertain in which direction to run. Every way they gazed, they saw the lines of chariots bearing down upon them.

  Closer we came, at a steady walk, and our horses were still fresh and eager to run. They had sensed the excitement, and threw their heads, fighting with the traces, snorting and rolling their eyes until the whites showed. The oryx herd began to move again, but in no definite direction. They milled upon themselves, making uncertain dashes in one direction before coming up short and then swinging around and rushing back again.

  I was pleased with the control and discipline of our squadrons. They held their formations rigidly, without bunching up and leaving gaps in the ranks. The signals that I gave were repeated down the line and acted upon instantly. We were at last becoming an army. Soon we would be able to meet any foe on favourable terms, even the Hyksos veterans who had spent their entire lives on the footplate of a chariot.

  I reached behind me and took Prince Memnon by the arm. I drew him forward and placed him against the dashboard. I wedged him there with my own body, and he gripped the front panel. Now Tanus had both hands free to shoot his bow, and the prince was safe.

  ‘Let me take the reins, Tata. I will drive,’ Memnon pleaded. I had let him drive before, so he meant it seriously, though he was barely tall enough to see over the dashboard. I dared not laugh at him, for he took himself very seriously.

  ‘Next time, Mem. This time just watch and learn.’

  At last we were less than a hundred paces from the nearest oryx, the pressure was too great for them to tolerate. Led by one scarred old cow, a hundred of them charged straight at our line in a mass. At my signal we shortened our line until we were running hub to hub, a solid wall of horses and men, and the trumpeters sounded the charge. I lashed my team into a full gallop and we raced headlong to meet them.

  Tanus was firing past my right shoulder. I could watch each of his arrows fly out across the closing gap. This was the first time he had shot from a running chariot, and his first three arrows flew wide of the mark, as the chariot careered into the herd of racing oryx. But he was a master archer, and he adjusted his aim swiftly. His next arrow took the old cow, who was still leading the charge, full in the chest. It must have split her heart, for she went down, nose into the sand, and rolled over her own head. The animals following her swerved out on either side of her, offering Tanus broadside targets. It was fascinating to watch his next two arrows curl away and fall behind the racing oryx.

  The temptation is always to shoot directly at a running target, and not at the place in the empty air ahead of it, where it will be when the arrow reaches it. This calculation of forward aim is further complicated by the movement of the chariot in relation to the target. I was trying to give him the easiest shot by turning the chariot with the run of the game. All the same, I was not surprised when two more of Tanus’ arrows missed behind the target.

  Then, like the master of the bow that he is, he adjusted his aim, and the following arrow plunged feathers-deep into the chest of the next oryx. He killed three more with three arrows, while all around us the hunt disintegrated into the wild confusion of battle, and dust obscured all but the closest glimpses of running chariots and racing animals.

  I was driving close behind a pair of oryx, overhauling them slowly, when the flying hooves of one of them threw up a chip of sharp flint the size of the last joint of my thumb. Before he could duck, it struck Memnon on the forehead, and when he looked up at me I saw the blood trickling from the shallow cut above his eye.

  ‘You are hurt, Mem,’ I cried, and started to rein down the horses.

  ‘It is nothing,’ he told me, and used the corner of his shawl to mop the blood. ‘Don’t stop, Tata! Keep after them. Kratas will beat us, if you don’t.’

  So I drove on into the dust, and beside me Tanus’ bow sang its awful song, and the prince yipped and yelped with excitement like a puppy the first time that it chases a rabbit.

  Some of the oryx broke free of our lines and escaped into the open desert, while others were turned back into the trap. Men shouted with excitement and triumph, horses whinnied, and the oryx snorted and bellowed as the arrows slapped into them and brought them crashing down in a tangle of flying hooves and scimitar horns. All around us was the thunder of hooves and wheels, and we were immersed in the yellow fog of d
ust.

  There is a limit to how long even the finest and most willing team of horses can be driven at full gallop. When finally I reined Patience and Blade down to a walk, the dust had caked like mud in the sweat that lathered their flanks, and they hung their heads with exhaustion.

  Slowly, the dust-clouds that had obscured the field drifted aside and dissipated. The field was a terrible sight.

  Our squadron was scattered over the entire plain. I counted five chariots whose wheels had shattered during the chase, and the up-ended vehicles looked like the broken toys of a petulant giant. The injured men lay on the sandy earth beside their shattered chariots, with their comrades kneeling over them as they tended their wounds.

  Even those chariots that had survived undamaged were halted. The horses were blown and exhausted. Their flanks heaved as they strained for breath, and the white froth dripped from their muzzles. Each one of them was soaked with sweat, as though it had swum across the river.

  The game was scattered upon the field in the same disorder and lack of purpose or design. Many of the great beasts were dead, and their carcasses lay stretched out on their sides. Many others were crippled and maimed. Some stood with their heads hanging. Others limped away through the dunes with slow and halting gait. Each arrow-shaft left a dark stain of wet blood upon the pale, roan-coloured hide.

  This was the pitiful end to every hunt, when the heat and excitement have cooled and the wounded game has to be gathered up and put out of its misery.

  Near us I saw one old bull oryx sitting on his paralysed haunches with his front legs stiff in front of him. The arrow that had crippled him stood out so high from his back that I knew that the point had severed his spine. I took the second bow from the rack on the side-panel of our chariot, and I jumped down from the footplate to the ground. As I walked towards the crippled bull, he swung his head to watch me. Then he made one last courageous effort, and dragged his crippled back legs as he came at me. He slashed those long black horns at me, but his eyes swam with the tears of mortal agony. I was forced to drive two arrows deep into the cavity of his chest before he gave one last groan and rolled over on to his side, kicked once convulsively, and was still.

  When I climbed back into the chariot, I glanced at the prince’s face. His eyes were wet with tears and his blood-smeared face was crumpled into an expression of pity for the oryx. He turned his face away from me, so that I could not see his tears, but I was proud of them. He who lacks compassion for the game he pursues is no true huntsman.

  I took his curly head in my hands and turned his face back to me. Gently, I cleaned the wound on his forehead and bandaged it with a strip of linen.

  We camped that night upon the plain of flowers, and their sweet perfume scented the darkness, and overlaid the smell of fresh-spilled blood.

  There was no moon, but the stars filled the entire sky. The hills were bathed in their silver luminosity. We sat late at the camp-fires and feasted on the livers and hearts of oryx roasted on the coals. To begin with, the prince sat between Tanus and me at the fireside, but the officers and men vied for his attention. He had stolen all their hearts, and at their invitation he moved easily from one group to the next. They mended their language and banter to fit his ears, and the prince was at ease in their company.

  They made a great fuss of his bandaged head. ‘Now you are a real soldier,’ they told him, ‘just like one of us.’ And they showed him their own scars.

  ‘You did the right thing by allowing him to come with us,’ I told Tanus, as we both watched him proudly. ‘This is the best training any young cadet can ever have.’

  ‘The men love him already,’ Tanus agreed. ‘There are two things that a general needs. One is luck and the other is the devotion of his troops.’

  ‘Memnon must be allowed to go out with every expedition, just as long as it is not too dangerous,’ I decided, and Tanus chuckled.

  ‘I leave you to convince his mother of that. There are some things that are beyond my powers of persuasion.’

  On the other side of the camp-fire, Kratas was teaching Memnon the expurgated version of the lyrics of the regimental marching songs. The prince had a sweet, clear voice, and the men clapped the time, and came in on the chorus. They protested loudly and rudely when at last I tried to send Memnon to the bed I had prepared for him under the body of the chariot, and even Tanus supported them.

  ‘Let the boy stay with us a little longer,’ he ordered, and it was well after midnight when at last I was able to roll the prince in my sheepskin rug.

  ‘Tata, will I ever be able to shoot the way that Lord Tanus does?’ he asked sleepily.

  ‘You will be one of the great generals of our very Egypt, and one day I will carve an account of your victories on obelisks of stone, so that all the world will know of them.’

  He thought about that for a while and then sighed. ‘When will you make me a real bow, not just a baby’s toy?’

  ‘As soon as you can draw it,’ I promised.

  ‘Thank you, Tata. I should like that.’ And he went to sleep as suddenly as I would blow out the flame of a lamp.

  * * *

  We returned in triumph to the fleet, the wagons loaded with the salted and sundried meat of the oryx herd. I had expected my mistress to tax me severely for having abducted the prince. I had prepared my defence and was determined to place the blame squarely on the broader shoulders of Lord Harrab.

  However, her censure was milder than I had anticipated. She told Memnon that he was a wicked child for having caused her worry, and then hugged him until he was in danger of suffocation. When she turned to me, I launched into a long explanation of Tanus’ role in the affair, and the valuable training and experience that the prince had received, but she seemed to have dismissed the entire episode.

  ‘When did you and I last go fishing together?’ she asked. ‘Fetch your fishing-spears, Taita. We will take one of the skiffs. Just the two of us on the river, the way we used to be in the old days.’

  I knew that we would do little fishing. She wanted me alone on the water where we could not be overheard. Whatever was troubling her was of serious importance.

  I paddled downstream on the shrunken and slow green waters until the bend of the river and the high rocky bluff hid us from the fleet. All my attempts at conversation had failed, so I put aside my paddle and took up my lute. I strummed and sang the tunes she loved best, and waited for her to speak.

  At last she looked up at me, and her eyes were filled with a strange mixture of joy and worry.

  ‘Taita, I think I am going to have another baby.’

  I can think of no reason why this statement should have surprised me so. After all, every night since we had left Elephantine, she and the commander of her army had been locked in secret conclave, while I kept guard at the door of her cabin. Nevertheless, I was so alarmed that my hand froze on the lute strings and the song died in my throat. It was some moments before I could regain my voice.

  ‘My lady, did you use the infusion of herbs that I prepared for you?’ I asked diffidently.

  ‘At times I did, but at others I forgot.’ She smiled shyly. ‘Lord Tanus can be a very impatient man. Besides which, it is so unromantic to fiddle with pots and jars, when there are better and more urgent things waiting to be done.’

  ‘Things like making babies who have no royal father to claim them.’

  ‘It is rather serious, isn’t it, Taita?’

  I struck a chord on the lute while I framed a reply. ‘Rather serious? Oh, I think that is the wrong word. If you give birth to a bastard, or if you take a husband, then you will be obliged to relinquish the regency. That is the custom and the law. Lord Merkeset would be the next in line as regent, but there will be covert warfare amongst all the nobility for the position. Without your protection as regent, the prince would be in great danger. We would be torn by internecine strife—’ I broke off, and shuddered at the prospect of it.

  ‘Tanus could become regent in my stead, and then I co
uld marry him,’ she suggested brightly.

  ‘Don’t think I have not thought of that before,’ I told her sombrely. ‘It would be the solution to all our difficulties. But then there is Tanus.’

  ‘If I ask him, he will do it gladly, I am sure of that,’ she smiled with relief, ‘and I will be his wife. We need no longer play these shams and subterfuges to be alone together.’

  ‘I wish it were that easy. But Tanus will never agree. He cannot—’

  ‘What is this silliness?’ The first sparks of anger lit her eyes, and I hurried on.

  ‘That night at Thebes, the night that Pharaoh sent men to arrest Tanus on charges of sedition, we tried to force Tanus to declare for the crown. Kratas and all his officers swore their support, and that of all the army. They wanted to march on the palace and place Tanus on the throne.’

  ‘Why did Tanus not agree to them? He would have been a fine king, and it would have saved all of us so much heartache.’

  ‘Tanus spurned their offer. He declared that he was not a traitor, and that he would never mount the throne of Egypt.’

  ‘That was long ago. Things have all changed,’ she cried with exasperation.

  ‘No, they have not changed. Tanus swore an oath that day, and he called on the god Horus to witness it. He swore that he would never take the crown.’

  ‘But it no longer counts. He can go back on that oath.’

  ‘Would you go back on an oath that you had sworn in the sight of the god Horus?’ I demanded, and she looked away and hung her head.

  ‘Would you?’ I insisted, and she shook her head reluctantly.

  ‘No,’ she whispered, ‘I could not.’

  ‘The same code of honour binds Tanus. You cannot call upon him to do what you dare not do yourself,’ I explained gently. ‘Of course, we can put it to him, but you and I both know what his reply must surely be.’

  ‘There must be something that you can do?’ She looked at me with that blind trust that angered me. Whenever she had run herself into the deepest danger, she simply turned to me and said, ‘There must be something that you can do?’