by Overton, Max
The white walls of Ineb Hedj gleamed in the distance, nestled small at the feet of the angular Benben monuments erected long before. Scarab stopped suddenly, between one pace and the next.
"What do these cities have in common?" she asked. "Per-Bast, Hut-waret, Sena, Djanet, Zau and Per-Wadjet."
"What? Tell us."
"They are all cities that have populations of enslaved Khabiru."
"So?"
"I don't know, but is it not curious that two of those cities were where those soldiers were headed?"
"They had to be headed somewhere," Abrim said. "It could be mere chance."
"But if it is not just chance," Khu said. "Then why are soldiers going to cities with Khabiru?"
"I fear that the Khabiru are in danger," Scarab continued. "Yahweh wants Horemheb to free his people, but if there are no people to be freed..."
"Then Horemheb wins at a stroke," Khu finished.
"He cannot possibly succeed," Mose said, a look of horror on his face. "Yahweh would prevent him."
"Possibly," Scarab agreed, "But if he tries, people will die and I do not want a single man, woman or child to die because we failed to stop the soldiers."
"But what can we do? We cannot fight hundreds of soldiers."
"This is why Horemheb wanted us there on a certain day. While we spoke, his soldiers would be killing our people and he would laugh in our faces, for there would be nothing we could do."
"It is the sixth day after the new moon," Jesua said. "The soldiers have instructions for the tenth day, so we might be able to warn them."
Scarab nodded. "Yes, Mose and I will go to Horemheb tomorrow and surprise him. You and the rest of the Pillar must split up and go to every Khabiru camp and warn them. They should flee if they can and fight if they must, but between Yahweh and the Nine, we shall make Horemheb and Ramesses regret they ever decided to war on innocent people."
"There is not much time," Abrim said.
"Then you must hurry. Buy horses if you need, but make sure every camp is warned."
Scarab sent everyone off on the warning missions, only taking Mose with her. "Even you, Khu. I'm sorry, but things could get a bit rough and the fewer people I have to look after the better. Besides, I want you to guard Merye. She is my niece, remember; so look after her well."
When the others had gone, Scarab took Mose south of the fishing village opposite Ineb Hedj and paid a fisherman to drop them below the city. From there, they mingled with farmers entering through the South Gate and passed the guards unrecognised. The palace was harder to enter unseen, and Scarab examined the entrances carefully before deciding.
"We could just appear at the doors and demand to be taken to Horemheb, but then he'd be forewarned. I don't want him to know we are here until he sees us."
"So what are you going to do?" Mose asked.
"I am going to petition one of the Nine, but as I have never tried this trick before, I'm not sure it is going to work." Scarab took some deep breaths and cleared her mind. Nebt-Het, you gave me the gift of seeing in darkness using the Eye of Geb, and I have used your gift to go where others are blind. Help me now, I pray. Help me to pass unseen as if it was dark, as if others were blind to me and my brother . She waited for a sign from the goddess and it came--the high-pitched shrill of a hawk and the faintest fluttering of wings. Scarab smiled. "The Lady Nebt-Het smiles on us, brother. Come, we are under her protection."
Scarab stepped out into the street and walked confidently up the steps and in through the portico, Mose following close behind her, muttering a prayer to his god. Guards stood around talking but none challenged them and they walked past them and into the halls and rooms of the palace.
"Which way?" Mose asked. "Do you know where they are?"
"Nut will show us."
A servant stepped out in front of them, carrying a silver tray with ornate wine cups and a jug, and set off down the hallway.
"Do you know of anyone else in the palace that drinks out of cups like that?"
They followed the servant through to the king's quarters and through a guarded door. Nobody paid them any attention and they stood to one side while the servant poured wine for each of the kings and backed from the room.
Horemheb and Ramesses sat across a small table and the younger man was bent over a game of Senet. An intricately worked box inlaid with lapis and ivory sat on the table between the two men. Pieces of carved ebony in two forms were scattered across thirty squares on the top of the box and four carved acacia-wood sticks lay on the table beside the box. Ramesses studied the four sticks and moved two of the pieces on the board.
"It is coming together," he muttered and sipped at his wine.
"I cannot believe you put faith in Senet," Horemheb said. "It is a game, nothing more."
"If it was a game I would contest with another person. I challenge the spirit of the future and the moves of my unseen opponent spell out what will come."
"As you wish." Horemheb drank and looked around the room, staring at the place where Scarab and Mose stood for a moment, before looking back to the game of divination. "Has it told you anything useful yet?"
"There are challenges and war and death," Ramesses replied.
"I could have told you that," Horemheb laughed. "War and death are part of life. What does it say about the Khabiru? Have we solved that problem?"
Ramesses threw the sticks again and moved the counters on the board. "Speak a question out loud."
"Alright then. Three days from now, will the Khabiru problem be solved?"
The sticks clattered softly and Ramesses moved the ebony counters, studying the new formation carefully. "The answer is ambivalent. It says to beware the unseen."
"What in Amun's blue balls does that mean?"
"I think that refers to us," Scarab said.
The blindness that had enveloped the two kings fell away and they saw Scarab and Mose standing beside them. Horemheb dropped his cup, spilling the wine. Ramesses looked up at the disturbance and saw the two intruders. He leapt to his feet, scattering the Senet pieces.
"Great gods, where did you come from?"
Scarab smiled. "I thought you wanted to see us."
"You were going to be here in three days time," Horemheb accused.
"And how did you get in here?" Ramesses demanded. "I will have those guards flayed alive. Guards!"
The doors burst open and several armed men rushed in, weapons drawn. They stared in confusion at the unarmed man and woman near the kings.
"W...what is your command, Great Ones," the officer stammered.
"How is it these people just walked in here?" Ramesses asked. "Do I have to teach you the meaning of basic guard duty?"
"Great One, I...er, they never..."
"Oh, leave him alone, Paramessu," Scarab said. "You know as well as I that it was not his fault. The gods helped us get in here and really, you should be asking yourself just why they would do that."
The guards gaped and Horemheb dismissed them. "No-one is to enter or leave," he instructed. "On your lives." When the soldiers had left, he asked, "Why are you here?"
"You said you wanted to see us."
"Why are you here today? We agreed on three day's time."
"I thought it would be instructive to be early. It seems I was right. I find you questioning the unseen about the Khabiru. Why would you ask if the Khabiru problem would be solved in three days?"
"We were to give instructions for their release in three days."
"So where is the problem? Did you imagine we would object?" The kings remained silent, and after a few moments Scarab continued. "We know that you have sent armed men to each of the Khabiru camps. Did you think perhaps that if there were no Khabiru, there could be no problem?"
Ramesses bent and started to pick up the scattered Senet pieces, not looking at his accuser. "There is nothing you can do about it. We cannot call them back."
"That I doubt. You would scarcely leave yourself without a way out, just in case s
omething went wrong. Paramessu, something has gone wrong. Recall them."
"No."
"Horemheb, you can overrule him. You have seen the power of Mose's god Yahweh when all you had done was keep the Khabiru captive. Can you imagine his anger if you start killing them?"
Horemheb looked uneasy. He dabbled a finger in the spilt wine on the table. "The blood was a temple trick and there are always frogs in the river. The same with flies and sickness and locusts. Who is to say that these things came from this Yahweh? We have had locusts before, and sickness, and sometimes flies."
Scarab shook her head. "You blind yourself to the acts of the god. Recall your soldiers."
Now Horemheb shook his head. "No."
Scarab sighed and turned to her brother. "I hoped to dissuade them but it is now time for you to call on Yahweh."
"I do not have to call on him. He hears all and has already acted on the desires of the kings' hearts."
Ramesses grinned and cocked his head. "I do not hear sounds of wailing or cries of horror. Your threats come to nothing."
The earth shook, and the grin vanished from Ramesses' face. "The earth has shaken before, but without harm coming to anyone."
"Think of them as the footsteps of the god. He is still far off but coming quickly and with great anger. What will you do when he gets here?"
"Look to the north," Mose cried out. "Yahweh is in the north."
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Chapter Forty-Two
The kings looked at each other and then got up, moving to the open veranda which faced the river. By leaning over the parapet and looking left, they could see the green Delta lands of Ta Mehu stretching away to the horizon. Far to the north, beyond the line of the horizon, a tall pillar of black cloud stood like a wedge ready to split open the earth.
"That?" Horemheb queried. "Is it another storm cloud? It does not look like much."
"Nor did the hail storm when first it appeared," Mose said.
"If it is more hail, your god has miscalculated," Ramesses said. "We have no crops in the field now, so it can do little damage."
The pillar of black cloud climbed higher but it was evidently a long way away as they could discern no visible motion to the parts of it. Imperceptibly, it rose and spread out at the top, resembling nothing so much as a poisonous mushroom. It grew, slowly at first but with gathering momentum, rolling south toward Kemet. Now they could see motion in the black clouds as they roiled and curled. Thin filaments and curtains descended, looking like wisps of rain from a thunderstorm.
"You can still stop this, or at least lessen the damage," Scarab said quietly. "Send out your message to your soldiers. Cancel your plans."
"We can survive another hail storm," Ramesses said, but there was doubt in his voice.
"Have you not noticed that each of the plagues was worse than the one before it? Whatever this one is, hail or something else, you can be sure it will be bad. Save your people. Call off the attack."
"No."
"Horemheb? Think. Consider. Every time we have asked you to release the Khabiru and you refused, Yahweh has sent a plague. Now you threaten death to his people and you can see something descending on Kemet from the north. I have no doubt it will be worse than anything that came before. Cancel your commands and perhaps Yahweh will not crush Kemet."
Horemheb took Ramesses aside and for several minutes they spoke together. Finally, Ramesses stamped off into the palace, returning many minutes later.
"It is done?" Horemheb asked. Ramesses nodded.
"How?" Mose asked. "Some of the cities are days travel away."
"Pigeons," Ramesses replied. "Did you know that a pigeon will always return to its birthplace, even if you take it far away? We have pigeons from all the main cities in Kemet. We sent a message tied to the legs of pigeons."
"Ingenious," Scarab commented. She thought for a few moments. "What if a hawk takes it?"
"Then the message is lost. You had better hope your god can look after them." Ramesses shrugged. "Anyway, we thought of that. The message will be sent twice. One will get through."
"So you will now tell your god to send back the cloud?" Horemheb asked.
Mose laughed scornfully. "You do not tell god to do anything. Just as he knew what was in your hearts when he sent this cloud, so he knows your hearts now."
"Well, will you ask him? Offer a sacrifice, whatever needs to be done?"
"Will you let his people go?"
"We have stopped the slaughter of the Khabiru. Is that not enough?"
"No, it is not. I ask you plainly King Horemheb, King Ramesses; will you let the Khabiru leave Kemet with their wealth?"
"They may leave, but without their wealth," Ramesses said.
"Then there is nothing to discuss. Come sister, we shall leave these stubborn men to face Yahweh's wrath." Mose turned to go.
Ramesses reached out for him, but the king's leg failed him and he fell to the floor. "Guards!" he yelled. "Guards, to me!"
The door crashed open and the armed soldiers entered again, taking in the younger king on the floor and the bearded prophet standing over him. They drew their weapons and surrounded the man and woman.
"Lock them up," Ramesses snarled, getting to his feet. "If they resist, kill them."
"Think, Paramessu," Scarab called out as the soldiers closed in. "Would you fight the gods?"
A young man reached out for her and slumped to the ground with a groan. The man next to him yelled, "She's got a knife," and stabbed forward with his blade, piercing the belly of another soldier pressing forward to grip Mose. Scarab stepped over the body, and two more men started fighting with each other, while another cut his own arm.
Ramesses stared in disbelief as Scarab and Mose reached the door unscathed. "You will not escape. I can call a hundred men to catch you."
"Then a hundred men will suffer. When did your heart harden, Paramessu? Once, you cared for the lives of those under you." Scarab and Mose left the room, walking swiftly. She almost ran down the hallways to the palace entrance.
"Why do we hurry, sister? God protects us from harm."
"The longer we stay, the more likely more men will be hurt. We hurry to save men pain."
Ramesses ran after them, and as they reached the portico, where the guard post lay, he caught up. "Stop them!" he called. The king snatched a spear from one of the soldiers and hurled it at Scarab. The shaft flexed in mid-flight like a serpent and missed its target, slashing by her and transfixing the officer in charge instead. Ramesses swore and grabbed a sword, but in his haste, cut his own hand and the weapon clattered to the floor.
Scarab and Mose walked calmly forward and the guard backed away from them. One young man remained, his sword held outstretched, his voice wavering as he bade them, in the King's name, to surrender.
"I am sorry," Scarab whispered to the young soldier. The man sobbed and turned the blade on himself. They stepped over his lifeless body and out into the street, leaving Ramesses and the palace guards hesitating indecisively. They were followed as they hurried down to the docks, but at a safe distance and nobody tried to hinder them.
Mose looked north to the gathering black cloud. "What is that dreadful stink?" Ahead of the curtains falling from a cloud that nearly covered the northern segment of the sky, an acrid smell caught at the throat and left a bitter, acid taste in the mouth. He coughed and spat in the dust.
Scarab shook her head, not wanting to waste breath, and pointed to a fishing boat tied up to a wharf. A youth stood nearby, staring up at the sky, and Scarab went to him.
"Your boat?" She pointed.
The lad coughed. "My father's."
"Take us across?"
The lad shook his head.
Scarab held up a silver ring and the youth's eyes widened. "You could buy the boat for that, but I can't take you. I must wait for my father."
"Rent us the boat then. We will leave it tied up on the far bank for you to reclaim." She passed him the silver r
ing and she and Mose clambered into the little boat and cast off.
Soldiers ran onto the wharf before they were twenty paces into the stream, the current just starting to tug at the little boat. The officer called to them to return, and when they did not reply, ordered archers to the fore.
"Last chance," the officer called again. "At this range they cannot miss." The boat crept further out and the officer nodded.
The archers fired, but the arrows dipped and plunged into the water only a few paces away, or else flew to one side or the other of the tiny boat. The officer barked a command and the archers tried again, sending volley after volley ineffectually after the receding boat. Three men jumped into another fishing boat and started after Scarab and Mose but the sail ripped and they drifted off downstream. The boat with the two fugitives on board slowly moved out of reach, moving awkwardly across the flow under their inexpert guidance.
The black cloud descended before they reached the far shore, enveloping them in a gritty blanket that made them cough and their eyes sting. Scarab wet two rags in water and they tied them around the faces so they could breathe.
"What is this plague?" Mose asked. "This is not mist or fog. It smells...it smells like burning, and..." he rubbed his arm. "...this feels like ash."
"I don't know. I hoped you might tell me, seeing as it was your god who did it."
"It is getting thicker."
By the time they reached land they could hardly see where they were going, the cloud above them having now spread far to the south and blocking the light from the sun. Gloom descended on the river, and a deathly quiet as the accumulating ash deadened sound. Scarab and Mose tied the boat up and headed inland toward the Royal Road, but they were quickly disoriented as all directions looked the same in the ash fall. She prayed to Nut and, after a few moments, pointed off to their left.
"Over there."
"Are you sure? It all looks the same." Mose followed willingly enough though and they soon found their feet on the hard-packed dirt of the road. "We can't keep this up, we'll choke." He coughed and lifted his damp veil to spit. "We have to find shelter."
