Beauty of Re

by Mark Gajewski

  I took my place in our column directly behind Thut, a newly–acquired bow in my hand, a beautifully decorated quiver of arrows on my back. I’d never seen a bow like it; it was a compound bow, the archer who gave it to me said, its range twice as far as a regular bow and powerful enough to drive an arrow through most shields. Thut was wearing his Blue Crown, the blue faience disks attached to the leather glittering in the sunlight. He was dressed for war, in a pleated kilt, a gold belt inlaid with faience around his waist, a leather corselet, a decorated breastplate in the shape of vultures’ wings, a linen shirt, and gold armbands and wristbands. He turned, looked over his army, then, with a loud cry, sent us on our way. We moved forward into the pass, the rocky slopes of the mountain rising steeply on each side of the twisting path, which itself rose perceptibly towards the mountain’s crest. We moved as quickly as we could, for we would be vulnerable as long as the army remained strung out in single file. My hip was still sore, even after last night’s brief rest, and I struggled to keep the pace. I scratched my arm once or twice on scraggly bushes. Sometimes the sun lighted our steps, especially as it rose higher into the sky, but most of the time we walked in deep shadow as the path twisted and turned between sheer walls of rock. Horses whinnied and chariot wheels squeaked without ceasing and the sounds echoed in the pass. I stumbled a few times on rocks upthrust from the trail. Each time General Djehuty caught me by an arm and righted me. Each time pain coursed through my shoulder, but I did not cry out. Thut allowed the men to rest only once, at the highest point of the passage, just long enough for a hurried bite and quick drink, then hurried us on our way once more. By now, after more than three days with little more than a nap, I was moving mechanically, mindlessly, dog–tired. The excitement that had kept me alert since the beginning of the feast in the pavilion two days ago – or was it three – I couldn’t think clearly – was wearing off, replaced by the mind–numbing effort of putting one foot in front of another. After nearly seven hours of walking we finally rounded a sharp rocky corner and ahead, through a gap between the sides of the mountain, glimpsed a vast green plain. Smoke rose from hundreds of campfires clustered in the far distance on both the eastern and western ends of the mountain range, guarding the roads the wretches had expected us to take, just as the captain had told me. Straight ahead was the high walled hill that held Megiddo. More smoke rose from a large camp dotted with magnificent colorful pavilions and a multitude of waving banners on the plain directly between us and the city, so close I thought I could almost reach out and touch them. No doubt that was the camp of the kings, located in the center of the enemy’s defense so they could quickly move to support either end of their line.

  “We’ve got the wretches right where we want them. We’re closer to Megiddo than either wing is,” Thut said in a low excited voice to General Djehuty. “If it comes to a footrace to the city gate, we’ll win.”

  We moved forward as rapidly as possible, the path descending steeply the last hundred yards or so. Soon we began to emerge, one by one, onto the broad plain at the foot of the mountain, close by narrow shallow Qina Brook. It wound lazily parallel to the rock–strewn slope no more than fifty yards away. Captains began rapidly moving their men into battle formation along the brook’s near bank, whispering commands, mounted bowmen to the left, chariots to the right, foot soldiers to the center.

  We were spotted before even a tenth of our army was out of the pass. Thut studied the enemy calmly, but I grimly, suddenly recognizing the folly of what Thut had done, at my urging. The enemy directly in our front heavily outnumbered us in our current state. If they attacked now they’d overwhelm the small force that had exited the pass, and trap the rest inside. If either enemy wing circled the mountain and blocked Aruna Pass from the rear, Thut’s entire army would be lost. And it appeared that was precisely what was going to happen. I heard horns and trumpets in the kings’ camp, saw the enemy begin to stir, like ants scrambling about anthills, forming up on the plain facing us. I saw heads appear atop the walls of nearby Megiddo, no doubt studying us. Our captains were desperately organizing their men to meet the pending enemy attack, the number of soldiers available to fight pitifully small and, to my eyes, inadequate. Guilt washed over me. I’d proposed using the pass; all the soldiers who were about to die would do so because of me. And what would happen to Thut?

  He was still calm. Could it be he didn’t realize how precarious our position was?

  “The two biggest tents in that camp surely belong to the kings of Kadesh and Megiddo,” he told Nefer and General Djehuty and me. “Those surrounding them must belong to the chieftains of their allies.”

  “I recognize the banners of Hazi, Abel, Damascus, and Hadara,” Djehuty said. He squinted. “Tob, Hazor, Pehel, Yanoam, Acco, Ophel, Gath, Ono, Yaham, Lebo, Jattir, Tyre, Yoqereth, Gezer. There are hundreds unfamiliar to me.”

  “The intelligence was right,” Thut said. “Three hundred leaders are in that camp, and every king who has rebelled against me.”

  “They’re not with their men?” Nefer asked.

  “They’ve stayed in the center to direct the action,” Djehuty said. “Their plan is exactly as the captain told Lady Meryetneith – their center would have moved to join whichever wing first came under attack from us. They never expected our army to emerge from Aruna Pass.” He addressed Thut. “But I fear we’ve blundered, Majesty. It’s my fault. We should have waited in the pass until after dark, to avoid discovery, massed our men in the night to gain the numerical advantage.” He pointed. “Riders are already heading from the kings’ camp to both wings. In less than two hours, I’d wager, the center and one wing will attack us here and the other will already be circling around to our rear.”

  “Perhaps,” Thut said coolly.

  Just then men arrived leading Thut’s golden war chariot, his two stallions tossing their heads, nostrils flaring, eager for battle. Thut stepped into the chariot and took up the reins.

  Another soldier brought Djehuty’s horse. He quickly mounted. “We should strike the enemy’s center now, Majesty, before it’s fully organized. Once we take it, we can move on Megiddo before their reinforcements arrive. It’s our best chance for victory.” Djehuty wheeled his horse. It pranced sideways, eager to be off. “I’ll hurry everyone I can from the pass to support the attack.”

  “No, General,” Thut said. “We’ll not attack today.”

  “Majesty? If they combine forces we’re doomed,” Djehuty protested.

  “I’m willing to gamble that the three hundred leaders in that camp will not be able to agree what to do about us on the spur of the moment, much less concentrate their men in a coordinated attack against us,” Thut said derisively. “I’ll bet that every one of our horsemen and charioteers that pours out of the pass behind us makes them more and more afraid. Look at the wretches! Do they look like they’re about to attack us? Those soldiers are milling about, leaderless, waiting for someone to tell them what to do. So you’re absolutely right, General. We can attack them right now and push them back to Megiddo and take the city, but then what? The men in the northern and southern wings will escape into the hills. All those soldiers will make their way home. We’ll spend months or perhaps years hunting them all down. We’ll have to lay siege to a thousand towns to finally stamp out this rebellion! An impossible task! No, General, we’ll wait and get our whole army in position. Let the wretches spend the rest of the day drawing their wings back before the city to defend it. Then, in the morning, well rested, we’ll attack and capture the whole traitorous lot at once.”

  “A plan with great risk,” Djehuty said.

  “And great reward, if it works,” Thut replied.

  “It has so far,” Djehuty smiled, bowing his head. “We’ve surprised the wretches and positioned ourselves for victory.” He turned his horse in a circle. “I’ll inform the rest of the commanders.” And then he was off in a spray of dirt.

  I proudly applauded Thut’s strategic brilliance.

  By nightfall our en
tire army was on the field and the enemy had, in fact, moved his wings back to within the shadow of Megiddo’s walls. The center section alone did not withdraw. It still faced us in front of the kings’ camp. I watched cookfires spring to life all along the enemy line, and torches atop the walls of Megiddo. The city itself was like a flickering flame upon its hill, lights shining in hundreds of windows. I gave up trying to count the number of blazing campfires with enemy soldiers flitting before them, indistinct shadows, restless, preparing themselves for the coming battle. I realized for the first time the extent of the rebellion. Thut had moved his mounted archers and chariots forward on the right and left as soon as night fell, and their campfires began blazing to life, forming a long concave line about a half mile from the enemy, our ends overlapping his. The space between the two lines remained dark, a no–man’s land.

  After dinner, Nefer and I accompanied Thut and General Djehuty as they rode from one end of our line to the other in chariots, stopping at campfire after campfire to speak with officers and encourage the men. I drove Nefer, as usual. The men were nervous; as Thut had said in the war council at Yehem, they were untried and untested. Tomorrow they would be in their first battle. I thought back on the fight at Buhen, on how afraid I’d been. There’d been hardly any wretches arrayed against us there, compared to here. I was glad I wouldn’t be among the archers this time.

  I did not miss, nor did Thut, all the soldiers who pointed at me at each stop, though he did not mention it to me. As I had feared, the tale of what I’d done at Yapu had spread through the entire army. No doubt it had been greatly embellished in the retelling.

  “Will you be opening the gates of Megiddo for us, My Lady?” someone shouted from beside a campfire of foot soldiers, to much laughter.

  “Thut will surely win a great victory tomorrow,” I told Nefer as we rode between fires, “thanks to you telling him about Aruna Pass. Surely he’ll see your value now, know he can trust you.”

  “More thanks to you,” Nefer said pragmatically. “You’re the one who risked your life and discovered the enemy’s strategy. Thut is smart enough to know that you could have told him about the pass. I’m not sure I earned any of his favor.”

  “Have faith,” I told her, slapping the reins on my horses’ backs. “We have to build his trust one brick at a time. This one is the first.”

  “I hope you’re right, Mery.”

  When our ride was done we rolled ourselves in blankets beneath the stars beside Thut’s fire and tried to steal a few hours of blessed sleep.

  ***

  Just before dawn, Nefer and I stationed ourselves on the slope a little way up the mountain so we could observe the battle. Tjanuni was at our side, papyrus on his lap, reed in hand. Golden light spilled across the dew–wet plain and sparkled on the waters of Qina Brook. Megiddo cast a long shadow in our direction. I saw enemy soldiers moving about campfires, no doubt making their breakfasts.

  The sun was barely an hour old when Thut moved to the front of his troops in a chariot of gold drawn by two jet–black horses, their heads topped with white plumes. The chariot glittered in the sun. I saw Amenemhab and Ahmose in chariots to either side of him. All along our mile–long concave line rows of men raised their weapons high and cheered. The sun glistened on helmets and swords and spear tips and daggers. The scarlet banners of the gods snapped in the breeze.

  “I am like Horus, the Smiter, Lord of Power!” Thut thundered, turning to face his troops. “Amun has strengthened my arms. I will triumph this day at Megiddo!”

  The men cheered again. General Djehuty shouted a command. Many things began to happen all at once.

  “There! On the right!” Tjanuni cried excitedly.

  The charioteers stationed there wheeled to their right, and their long column began moving towards the far end of the enemy’s left wing. Infantry were being hastily drawn up there in a long line in front of their tents. Each chariot was pulled by two horses and carried two men, a driver armed with a bow, and a shield–bearer to protect him, and containers crammed with arrows and javelins. A runner followed after each chariot with a javelin in hand to protect the horses from our enemies. The sun gleamed on the charioteers’ helmets, and the streamers that topped them flowed in the breeze.

  “Now you’ll witness the tactics the king has spent so many years perfecting with his charioteers,” Tjanuni said. “They’ll get close to the farthest end of the enemy line, then veer left, riding across his front and loosening volleys of arrows. Riding straight at the infantry would put our horses at risk. And this way our chariots will also be moving towards the enemy’s center, to assist the king’s infantry there. Watch closely, Majesty, Lady – never in the history of the world have so many chariots engaged in a single battle, or played such an important role. The enemy has no idea what to expect from us.”

  True to Tjanuni’s prediction, the chariots moved past the rebel flank, then suddenly turned and swept towards Megiddo. The very ground seemed to shake beneath their wheels and hooves as the drivers slapped reins on the horses’ backs. Plumes of dust rose, obscuring all except the lead chariots from our view. From within the plumes arced arrows. I saw enemy soldiers falling like leaves from trees and heard faint screams, the sound delayed by distance. Even from so far away I could see the enemy soldiers were panicking, overwhelmed by our firepower. In no time at all their formations had broken and soldiers were fleeing towards the safety of the city as fast as they could run.

  “On the left!” Tjanuni called.

  I stared in that direction. The mounted bowmen were charging straight at the enemy infantry, dust rolling from their horses’ hooves, the ground rumbling, pennants flying. Suddenly the entire line slowed as one and archers fitted arrows to bows.

  “They’re too far away,” I said.

  “Just watch,” Tjanuni replied, then laughed.

  A volley flew from the horsemen, their arrows arcing high into the air then suddenly diving, a veritable rain of death. Enemy infantry crumpled to the ground.

  “These new compound bows are effective from twice the normal range,” Tjanuni said triumphantly.

  I idly fingered the one I carried.

  “The enemy archers can’t touch us, yet they themselves are dying.”

  More arrows flew as our horsemen advanced once more, our line becoming ragged as the fastest horses surged forward.

  “They cannot stand against us!”

  The leftmost enemy division began retreating as the rightmost had, every one of the enemy soldiers running for his life towards Megiddo. Many tumbled to the ground as our arrows continued to find them. The rebel flanks were now both converging on the city, from north and south, disorganized, broken. I saw many soldiers throw down their shields and weapons so they could run unhindered.

  Thut and his infantry had by now marched almost to the kings’ camp opposite our center. The plain between that camp and Megiddo was crawling with enemy leaders and courtiers and their servants, all hastily fleeing towards the city. None of them soldiers, they apparently didn’t have the stomach to face Thut. Only a thin line of actual fighters remained drawn up between the kings’ tents and us, and we far outnumbered them. Suddenly, enemy chariots emerged from behind Megiddo where they had been camped, just as my captain had said they would be, and quickly advanced towards Thut to support the soldiers in the kings’ camp, moving at full speed through the groups of retreating enemy. It appeared to me that the enemy chariots were equal in number to our own, powerful enough to overrun Thut’s infantry and punch a hole in the center of our line. Had we not known of their presence, their arrival on the battlefield might have panicked our troops and saved the day for the enemy. But Thut was prepared for them.

  “The enemy doesn’t see our chariots approaching from their left and rear because of that slight rise in the plain,” Tjanuni said. “And they do not guess at the speed of our horsemen on their right.”

  Thut turned his chariot towards us and screamed an order and his infantry took up a defen
sive position on the plain, kneeling behind shields, spears thrust forward. But before the enemy chariots were anywhere near Thut our mounted bowmen loosed a long–distance volley at them from the left and our chariots enveloped them from the right. Our attack caught the enemy completely by surprise. Horses tumbled and soldiers fell and enemy chariots overturned, their wheels spinning madly. Some chariots continued riderless across the plain, bouncing and crashing into other chariots or the tents of the kings, splashing into the creek, running until the horses drawing them were exhausted. Those charioteers who had survived their falls or our attack, and the soldiers who had been defending the kings’ camp, were soon running for their lives towards the safety of Megiddo. I swept the entire plain with my eyes, from north to south. It was littered with bodies, the wounded crawling or writhing, the dead still. The screams of injured horses and the cries of wounded men filled the air.

  Thut shouted another command, and his infantry rose and pressed towards the king’s camp and Megiddo. Far beyond him, enemy soldiers were fleeing ours along the base of the city walls and swarming desperately towards the great wooden gate that opened onto the main road that crossed the plain, the slowest of them strung out in long lines. But the gate was closed against them, the townspeople afraid we’d enter. Soldiers milled about before the gate, terrorized, confused, pounding on it, more arriving all the time, like a wave piling up on shore, unable to return to the sea.

  “Look! The enemy is too afraid of us to open his gates, even to save his soldiers!” Tjanuni cried. “They’re trapped outside! When our chariots and horsemen turn back towards the city, and our infantry arrive, we’ll wipe them out!”

  Except… The moment our men reached the kings’ camp all movement towards Megiddo ceased. Men raced from tent to tent and disappeared inside them. I saw the chariots and horsemen converge on the camp from the opposite direction, the men dismounting and rushing into camp. Thut and General Djehuty and the other commanders rode back and forth among them, trying to get the soldiers to pursue and crush the enemy. No one paid them any attention.