House of Scorpion

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House of Scorpion Page 45

by Mark Gajewski


  Pleasant wasn’t how Khab was perceiving our little talk. His illusion that he was in control melted away. “How can I back out, Majesty? King Sabu gave his sister Nebetah to my son Kama. I gave my daughter Heket to Sabu as wife.” Khab took off his crown and set it on the floor next to him and ran his hand through his hair. “If I back out Sabu will kill her.”

  “Yes, he will,” Matia said coldly. “Just like he executed my father and husband and son and brother. And ordered my death. Vindictively and unjustly. You know my brother’s deranged, Khab. You should’ve considered the consequences before you allied yourself to him.”

  Sabu had murdered so many people that Matia had loved. I’d heard their names often enough. But I’d never once considered how much their deaths had made her suffer. I was a wreck because of Tamit; Matia had suffered as much or more than me, losing son and husband and father in a single afternoon. I’d become inured to Sabu’s other victims because their deaths hadn’t affected me personally. I shouldn’t have. Blinded by my grief for Tamit, I’d blamed Matia for her death. For the first time, I wondered if Matia also blamed herself. To be just, Tamit’s murder wasn’t Matia’s fault. Tamit was dead because of Sabu. Perhaps I should stop holding Matia accountable for something she hadn’t done. I knew deep down that Tamit wouldn’t have wanted Matia and me to be at odds with each other because of her. We weren’t each other’s enemies – Sabu was.

  “Sabu told Ani he’s going to turn on you as soon as he conquers the North, Khab,” Matia announced.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “You should. He conspired with Abedu to turn on Antef. You’re a fool if you trust my brother.”

  “Majesty, the falcon god protects Nekhen,” Sety added. “He’s been Nekhen’s god longer than any man can remember. But if Sabu captures Nekhen he’ll make Seth its god. He’ll rip the falcon from the pole in the oval court and replace it with Seth’s image.” Sety held up his talisman. “You can’t let that happen.”

  “But my daughter!”

  “She’ll be safe as long as Sabu doesn’t find out you’ve abandoned him,” I said. “Pretend you’re still his ally, Khab. When Sabu calls on you for men delay as long as possible and then send only a token force. I’m sure you can come up with a reasonable excuse.”

  “He’ll turn on me.”

  “How exactly, Khab?” I asked. “Do you honestly believe Sabu will attack you if my father’s army is moving against his northern border?”

  “Probably not…”

  “I’ll leave a few of my men here when I go home. If Sabu threatens you they’ll bring me word. I promise I’ll immediately launch an attack on Nubt that’ll redirect Sabu’s attention.”

  “What about Heket?”

  “Once Father captures Nubt I’ll bring her to you.”

  “So you can give her away again,” Matia said cheerfully. Her eyes didn’t proclaim cheer.

  “So all I have to do is nothing?” Khab asked.

  Something he should be good at, based on my observations. “One more thing. I’m going to take your son Kama and his wife Nebetah with me to Tjeni. Nebetah will serve as a hostage for Father to use against her brother. Kama will set Nebetah aside and wed my sister Weret. He’ll reside in Tjeni from now on.”

  “Both my daughter and son hostages,” Khab said bitterly.

  “Both their lives equally at risk. Depending on whether you remain faithful to Father or not, Khab. Those are my terms.”

  Khab bent and picked up his crown and placed it on his head. He had no choice. “I accept.”

  I couldn’t help gloating. Sabu didn’t know it, but he now stood alone, isolated, with enemies on both north and south. Let him launch his fruitless war.

  ***

  Shemu (Harvest)

  Matia

  ***

  Three months after Iry and Sety and I returned from our successful mission to Nekhen we met in Scorpion’s room along with Mekatre to finally set in motion our war against Sabu. Only Lagus was missing. He was still at Ineb-hedj, keeping an eye on Antef. Ny-Hor had died mere days after we’d left Pe and Dep for Tjeni. None of us trusted Antef to honor Ny-Hor’s word to stay out of the coming conflict.

  I’d been awaiting this day for eight excruciatingly long years. Sabu was about to pay for everything he’d done to me, including the last, my attempted assassination. Everyone in Tjeni was now aware that I was alive and that Tamit had been mistaken for me and murdered. The first day back from the mission to Nekhen I’d taken a walk through the settlement, as I had daily with Tamit. The open hostility, the angry stares, the whispered comments, the jeers had quickly driven me back inside the per’aa. After that first day I hadn’t ventured outdoors again. Unfortunately, I was just as despised inside the per’aa as I was outside – by the servants who’d loved Tamit, by Scorpion’s daughters, by the elites who attended Scorpion’s nightly banquets. Thank the gods for war. I now had something to throw myself into and keep me occupied instead of sitting by myself in the per’aa’s garden, bitter and alone and reviled.

  Mekatre was so excited he couldn’t sit still. He was pacing back and forth. Iry and Sety were both quiet; they had a better sense of what war entailed than Mekatre. Scorpion looked confident and eager. He smiled at me and leaned over and momentarily placed his hand on my belly. Another five months or so and I’d give him a child – one Sety continued to assure me would be a link in a chain leading from Scorpion and me to a man who’d rule the entire valley.

  “Why is Matia here?” Mekatre asked sharply after the girls who’d been serving our wine departed at Scorpion’s command. “This is a council of war.”

  “I invited her,” Iry said evenly. “Matia knows the layout of Nubt and the hamlets pledged to Sabu. None of us do.”

  “My spies know plenty.”

  “Your spies might know bits and pieces, but no individual man knows everything Her Majesty knows,” Sety counseled.

  “Matia was extremely useful when we traveled to Nekhen,” Iry said, “explaining which trails led where in the desert west of Nubt, pointing out ways we might approach the settlement undetected.”

  Iry had softened towards me since our expedition to Nekhen. We conversed civilly when we encountered each other in the per’aa or at one of Scorpion’s banquets now. He was one of the few besides my husband who did; I supposed I’d always be associated with Tamit’s death in most minds. I could hardly wait to have my baby; at least then I’d have someone to love who’d love me back.

  “Matia’s my wife,” Scorpion told Mekatre. “She stays.”

  Scorpion seemed to have moved past Tamit’s death as far as I was concerned. He might be twice my age, but he was still a lustful and virile man who never slept in our bed by himself.

  “Is my army ready to fight?” Scorpion asked Iry.

  Tamit had informed me that Iry had cleaned up the mess Mekatre had made of military preparations soon after he’d turned Ineb-hedj over to Lagus at Scorpion’s order and returned to Tjeni. Iry consulted several wooden planks with symbols etched into a thin layer of clay. Tamit had tried to explain those to me and how they were used but I remembered very little of what she’d told me. I did remember being amazed that she’d invented the symbols and how to use them. She’d been a brilliant woman. I wondered if those planks reminded Iry of her, and if they made him sad.

  “We can muster three hundred trained craftsmen and herdsmen and fishermen and hunters on a few days’ notice, plus a thousand farmers once the harvest’s in, Father,” Iry replied. “We have enough weapons of the right type to arm everyone. Niay’s moved his entire fleet to Tjeni. There are enough boats to transport all your soldiers if you decide to attack Nubt from the river. We have enough donkeys to carry supplies if you decide to attack by land. Our granaries are full. Tents, cooking pots, other necessities are ready to go.” He looked up. “Yes, Father. Your army is ready to fight.”

  “Sabu won’t be able to muster a fraction of the force you have to oppose us until his fields are h
arvested, Husband. Even then he’ll be outmanned.”

  “I disagree,” Mekatre said vehemently. “Sabu murdered his father specifically so he could go to war against us. His spies will report the size of our army as soon as the men start to assemble. Once we make our move he’ll pull his farmers from their fields, harvested or not, and head north.”

  “You’re wrong, Mekatre,” I said. “Sabu’s granaries are nearly empty. Thanks to our new arrangement, King Khab won’t send him any emmer or barley. If Sabu pulls his farmers to fight his people will starve. His elites won’t let that happen. They know if the people face famine they’ll rise against them. Sabu can’t attack us. He’ll have to retreat within Nubt’s walls.”

  “Which has always been his only option,” Iry added. “He’s been too stupid and stubborn to realize it.”

  “Once we lay siege we can seize Sabu’s fields and harvest his grain for ourselves and starve him out,” Sety said. “Nubt can’t survive a siege with empty granaries, Majesty.”

  “The question before us is – do I attack Nubt by water, by land, or in combination?” Scorpion asked.

  “If we attack by land, from the desert west of Nubt, we’ll probably have to deal with Sabu’s mercenaries, assuming he’s bought some,” Iry said. “If I was Sabu that’s where I’d station them.”

  “They’d have the advantage,” I interjected. “There’s only one passable route into Nubt for a large force. There’s a long defile from west to east, easily guarded. Archers could shoot down on our men from high ground.”

  “I’m sure we could dislodge them, given enough time,” Iry said. “But they’ll fall back slowly and pick our men off one by one. They might delay us long enough that Sabu’s farmers could harvest all their grain before they have to take refuge.”

  “Attack by river!” Mekatre exclaimed.

  “That won’t be any easier,” Iry cautioned. “Nubt’s stretch is lined with hamlets and a couple of small settlements. We can’t just sail past them and leave active enemies in our rear. We’ll waste valuable time capturing them all, use up men and supplies. We’ll have to occupy them after we take them too, which will reduce the size of our fighting force.”

  “Occupy? Ridiculous! Be bold, Brother!” Mekatre exclaimed. “Our army’s mighty. Sabu’s isn’t, according to Matia – you seem to believe every word that comes out of her mouth. Sail past the hamlets! Hit Nubt fast and hard! Capture Nubt. Sabu’s vassals will have to surrender to us.”

  “We can’t capture Nubt by frontal assault, Mekatre,” Iry warned. “Its walls are too formidable. They’re a difference maker. They nullify our advantages in men and boats and supplies. So we’re going to have to lay siege – probably for years. Which means we’ll need to resupply our men from Tjeni constantly. Which means we must control the river. Which means we must occupy Nubt’s hamlets. Even then it’ll be a challenge to move supplies south. If I was Sabu, I’d send my mercenaries to raid our camping places and burn our boats and shoot down as many men as possible. I’d force us to divert men to guard every convoy to combat his raiders. I’d gamble my grain would last long enough that we’d eventually give up our siege and go home.”

  Frustration showed on Scorpion’s face.

  I didn’t want to hear about an endless siege any more than Scorpion did. I wanted Sabu to pay for his sins now, not years from now. I believed there was a way. “What if we could capture Nubt without a fight or siege?”

  Mekatre snorted. “How, Matia? Politely ask Sabu to surrender? Great idea! Why didn’t I think of that?” He threw his arms wide. “You’re naïve. The only thing Sabu understands is force.”

  “Which Iry just explained is useless,” I retorted. “Besides, the less force we use against Nubt, the less the resentment of the elites and commoners afterwards. What’s the point of seizing Nubt, Husband, if you have to spend all your time dealing with dissension and suppressing rebellion afterwards?”

  “What do you suggest?” Scorpion asked.

  “Are you serious!” Mekatre exclaimed. “Taking military advice from an unschooled woman?”

  “If Matia thinks she has a way to give me Nubt without bloodshed, and quickly, I’ll listen,” Scorpion said.

  “I’ll sneak into Sabu’s per’aa and kill him in his sleep. That’ll throw Nubt’s elites into disarray. The moment your army approaches they’ll surrender.”

  “You? By yourself?” Mekatre snapped. He looked me up and down. “In your condition?” He laughed.

  “Of course I’ll need help, Mekatre. My relatives will come when I call. Relatives with a grudge against Sabu. After I kill him I’ll sabotage Nubt’s granaries for good measure. No king, no food, cramped conditions – most Nubtians live outside the walls and they’ll have to squeeze inside once they see our forces coming – Nubt’s elites won’t be able to hold out long if you have to lay siege.”

  “My trust’s in the army, Father, not a pregnant woman and her supposedly-loyal relatives,” Mekatre averred. “Attack Nubt, Father! Wield your army! Make Sabu pay for disrespecting you with blood! Who cares if elites resent being conquered? Execute a few and the rest will fall in line.”

  “Barbaric and cruel for no reason,” I said. “Just like Sabu.”

  “Executions would have consequences, Brother,” Iry said. He addressed Scorpion. “Father, if we treat elites the way Mekatre proposes the next time we move against an enemy that settlement’s elites will know they’re facing death and they’ll fight us that much harder.” He shook his head. “I think Matia’s plan is worth exploring.”

  An unexpected ally.

  “War has consequences,” Mekatre snapped.

  “How would you contact the men you’ll need?” Scorpion asked me, ignoring Mekatre.

  “I used to run away to a farm a mile and a half north of Nubt to avoid my chores. Harwa’s. Pentu and I met there with trusted elites from time to time when Sabu was particularly out of control. I can send Harwa into Nubt to summon my relatives without raising suspicion.”

  “Your plan depends on a lapwing?” Mekatre snarled. “A farmer!”

  “Tamit was a lapwing,” Iry said, his voice clipped. “You know what she did in Ineb-hedj. And she relied on lapwings to help Father get control of our grain supply here in Tjeni.” He addressed Scorpion. “You know Tamit wouldn’t hesitate to trust Harwa on Matia’s word.”

  “He’s never betrayed me,” I said.

  “You’re absolutely certain you can kill Sabu, Matia?” Scorpion queried.

  “I am, Husband.”

  Scorpion put his hand on my belly. “You know there’s more at stake than Sabu’s death if I agree to your proposal, Matia. Are you absolutely certain you can escape Nubt after you kill him? You know how important you are to the future of this entire valley.”

  I was quite aware of the stakes. There’d be no unifier if I died. At this moment I could care less. Now mattered to me. Not some distant future. I had to kill Sabu. I should have years ago. I would have spared so many people so much pain if I had. I didn’t care if I lived or died now as long as he died. So I’d tell Scorpion whatever he wanted to hear so he’d let me go, even though I knew my escaping Nubt was highly unlikely. This was, as far as I was concerned, going to be a one way mission. “I’m absolutely certain.”

  “I’ll go with Matia, Father,” Iry volunteered. “I’ll make sure Matia stays alive. Even if it costs my life.”

  “It won’t come to that,” I assured Scorpion. Even though I suspected it might.

  “I’ll hold you both to your promises.”

  “Father, send a few boats and soldiers south while we’re sneaking into Nubt to draw Sabu’s attention,” Iry suggested. “A small strike force, just enough men to make Sabu nervous. Hold the rest of the army in reserve at Hiw, close enough to move on Nubt if necessary. Their mere presence should put fear into the hamlets beholden to Sabu – they’ll keep their men close to defend themselves, not go to Nubt’s aid. Do what Mekatre suggested with the strike force – be bold. Sail rig
ht past the hamlets and straight to Nubt. Sabu won’t worry about enemies within Nubt’s walls once he knows you’re coming.”

  “Iry and I will hide out on Harwa’s farm after we kill Sabu,” I said. “We’ll put some kind of signal on shore so you’ll know we’re there. Land, pick us up, sail on to Nubt. I’m confident the elites will surrender without a fight.”

  “And if you fail?” Mekatre asked.

  “I’ll be dead, of course. You’ll be able to do whatever you want without me objecting.”

  Scorpion put his hands on his thighs, gazed at each of us in turn. “It’s decided. We’ll use Matia’s plan.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. If my plan worked Sabu would die and Nubt would live. The best possible outcome. Even if I wasn’t around to see it.

  “I want the fleet ready to leave for Abdju in one week,” Scorpion said. “Iry, you have until then to get everything in order.”

  “I will, Father. I prepared an invasion plan years ago. I’ll refine it to account for the strike force and the reserves. And mobilize our soldiers.”

  ***

  I took a long look over my shoulder as Iry’s and my donkeys crested the plateau and headed into the desert. Scorpion’s fleet was moored along the riverbank at Hiw, his three hundred soldiers and support personnel lounging around campfires, eating their morning meal. Smoke spiraled into the sky. Nearby, farmers and their wives and children were slowly moving through emmer fields, bringing in the harvest. Great swaths of land had already been reduced to stubble during the harvest’s first month. But it was clear this year’s yield would be poor. The inundation had only dropped mud on a small strip abutting the river – eight low inundations in a row. Farmers here had irrigated very little land. In that, at least, Nubt’s farmers had an advantage. But the state of crops in Scorpion’s realm was undoubtedly matched in Sabu’s, giving us a military advantage.

 

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