Beauty of Re

by Mark Gajewski

  After that, Thut had moved for the first time against the wealthy cities along the northern coast. He captured a harbor town near Tunip, rich with spoils. He found there a temple to Amun that his grandfather had built, and restored it. He seized the enemy fleet, sailed south to Arvad, captured it after a short siege. The siege had taken place during the harvest season, and Arvad’s gardens and groves had been filled with fruit, their storehouses with new wines, their hillsides covered with grain. Thut’s men had been overwhelmed by the bounty, and so Thut had not been able to maintain discipline. The first days after the city’s surrender, according to what Amenemhab told me afterwards, his men “were drunk and anointed with oil every day as at a feast in Kemet.” After Arvad’s surrender, the other towns along the coast had submitted to Thut and brought him tribute, giving him the secure footing on the northern coast and the base for inland operations he had long desired. The following year he had returned to the northern coast, won several more battles, and collected more tribute.

  Three years ago Thut had launched another major campaign against Kadesh and Durusha. At the close of the spring rains he’d disembarked his army at Simyra, by the mouth of the Eleutherus River, then marched inland up the river valley. Days later he’d reached Kadesh. That city lay on the west bank of the Orontes River, at the north end of a high valley between two mountain ridges. A small tributary of the Orontes joined the river from the west just below the city, so that the city occupied a point of land between the two waterways. The builders of Kadesh had cut a canal across the tongue of land above the town, thus connecting the two streams and entirely surrounding the place by water. Within the riverbanks, an inner moat encircled high curtain–walls that reinforced the natural water defenses, so that, in spite of its location in the midst of a perfectly level plain, Kadesh was a place of great strength, probably the most formidable fortress anywhere in Setjet. Still, Thut had captured it, after a long siege. Once again, however, Durusha had slipped away and escaped. Meanwhile, several of the coastal cities, gambling that Kadesh would hold out, had rebelled. Once he’d captured Kadesh, Thut had returned to Arvad, home of the ringleader, and inflicted severe retribution.

  That revolt had proven to Thut that he had to thoroughly subjugate the coast before he could safely push inland beyond the valley of the Orontes on his long–planned advance against Naharina. He spent the following year stamping out the smoldering embers of revolt in Ullaza and many other coastal cities. He skirted the coast with his fleet, entered harbor after harbor, displayed his might, set his own men over each city. He charged his new governors with stockpiling supplies for his upcoming assault on the East. To further discourage future rebellion, Thut moved all of Setjet’s crops into granaries he erected in his conquered harbor towns, garnering control of the region’s food supply. That move desperately impoverished Setjet’s cities and gave them something to worry about besides turning on him.

  Tonight, Thut was on the brink of the final phase of his greatest campaign. Because I could speak every language we might encounter along the way, he’d brought me with him as interpreter instead of using several. In a few moments, I was going to embark on the most daring escapade of my life – I was going to sneak into the Mitanni camp and learn what I could firsthand of the enemy’s plans.

  Our journey from Kemet to the border of the Mitanni empire had been long. We’d sailed from the mouth of the river directly to Byblos. There we’d constructed pontoon boats to enable the army to cross the Euphrates on foot. We’d carried those boats overland in pieces on what we took pains to portray as a routine tour of Setjet to gather tribute. To that end we’d conducted the usual raiding and pillaging as we moved north through lands Thut already controlled. But a few weeks ago we’d veered into territory belonging to several unconquered cities. We’d taken Senzar, fought a considerable battle at the Height of Wan west of Khalep, which led that battlemented city on its steep gully–washed hill to surrender, then taken Carchemish. Our army was now camped a few miles east of that city, no more than two miles west of the Euphrates. Not a single fire burned in our camp this night, to keep from giving our presence away to the nearby Mitanni.

  On this journey I’d spent more time with Thut than I had since Megiddo. I’d dined with him daily, met with his spies and scouts, questioned locals for him, studied maps, even reviewed the daily drawings of flora and fauna that craftsmen had drawn at his command. At my suggestion he’d brought scientists along to record the oddities of this new land. It kept a promise I’d made to myself after my long–ago expedition to Punt. Fact was, since Amun had created all things in the world, as we discovered each previously unknown plant and animal on this expedition we were expanding that god’s empire as well as Thut’s. That made this campaign particularly holy. Upon our return, Thut told me, he’d record Amun’s expansion in a room he’d saved for just such a purpose in Akh–menou.

  We’d captured the first of several Mitanni a few weeks ago, but had obtained very little useful information from them. Thut was particularly uneasy about launching an invasion until he knew more about Saustatar and the disposition of his forces and his plans. Attacking across a river was dangerous; we might be caught with half our army on each bank and defeated piecemeal or, if we made it across and the enemy was vastly superior in size, our army might be trapped with its back to the river and wiped out. But Thut feared sending scouts across the river to learn more. They might be captured and, under torture, provide the Mitanni with information about us. So, this morning, I had volunteered to go into the enemy camp disguised as a serving woman and find out what I could. After a long and heated discussion, Thut had reluctantly agreed. It was either that or attack blindly. Half an hour ago he had personally poled me across the Euphrates in a small reed boat. We had carefully hidden it in a thicket along the shore.

  “It’s time, I think, Thut,” I said quietly.

  “May Montu and Amun protect you,” he whispered.

  I started to rise and he pulled me close and kissed me, stroked my long hair. “Be careful, Mery. I wouldn’t risk you if there was another way.”

  “I know, Thut.” I picked up a jar of wine and quietly crept towards the enemy camp, crouching low to remain concealed by the tall grass as long as possible. I soon reached the outer ring of enemy tents. Numerous soldiers lounged around blazing campfires on their far side. I rose, straightened, walked between two tents, passed nonchalantly near a fire that was warming a handful of soldiers. A few eyed me; at forty–two I still turned men’s heads and they had no doubt gone some time without a woman. But no one challenged me despite my sudden appearance; who would consider a woman of my age bearing wine to be a threat? I strode purposefully onward through the vast camp, towards the large tent in its center, as if I was carrying out an urgent task. I assumed from its magnificence that the tent belonged to the king.

  A guard stopped me at its entrance.

  “Wine for His Majesty. Would you delay me?” I snapped.

  He stepped aside.

  I took a deep breath, entered. The tent, lit with flaming bowls of oil, was crowded. Not only King Saustatar, but his wife and several daughters and many captains of his army were there, along with a bevy of young serving girls and a few musicians, seated to one side. All of the girls wore dresses, some of wool, some of a material I did not recognize, in a variety of colors. Luckily, we’d taken a few female prisoners during the campaign and I’d worn one of their dresses tonight, so I blended it. No one paid me any attention. I immediately began moving from man to man, refilling empty cups with wine, then went to stand among the other servants as if waiting to pour once more.

  The Mitanni were a boisterous lot, feasting, shouting back and forth, listening to the musicians, some more than a little drunk. Many had curly hair. Most had beards. Every so often one pulled a squealing serving girl onto his lap. Saustatar sat on cushions beside his wife, his daughters close by, eating, conversing with some of his commanders. A few men sat on stools, others on cushions, most on the
ground.

  A soldier entered, his clothes wet and muddy. He was breathing hard. He appeared to have just forded the Euphrates. I was sure he was a scout or spy. I moved as close to him as I dared without being obvious.

  “You have news about Pharaoh?” a captain seated beside the king asked, rising to his feet.

  I kept my face impassive, not reacting to that rarely–used title that had first come into fashion at the time of Ahmose and Amenhotep and Thut’s grandfather.

  Everyone in the tent fell silent. The musicians stopped playing.

  “Pharaoh Thutmose captured Carchemish several days ago. His army is camped outside its walls. He’s filling donkey carts with tribute. I overheard someone say he’s going to erect a stela beside his grandfather’s on the banks of the Euphrates.”

  “He’ll turn tail and go back home in a few days, as always, once he’s plundered the countryside,” someone said.

  “He doesn’t have the guts to cross the river and face us in battle,” another captain said belligerently.

  “His grandfather didn’t, and he won’t either,” King Saustatar predicted.

  “Our patrol boats would stop him in his tracks if he tried. His men would all die mid–river.”

  “It’s good we have naval power, then.”

  An older man I took to be a general turned to the king, frowned. “Majesty, your army is scattered throughout Naharina, some units along the Tigris, some the Euphrates, some in between, some guarding your cities. Let me send orders for them to march here, just in case.”

  “A reasonable precaution. Draw up the orders in the morning,” King Saustatar directed.

  “It will take many days, if not weeks, for them to arrive,” the general continued. He addressed another leader, one outfitted more shabbily than the others. “All we have in this camp to defend our land are your militia. Has it ever been tested in battle?”

  “No, My Lord. But give us the chance – we’ll give the heathen a fight to remember!”

  “I hardly think it will come to that,” the king sniffed. “Kemet already has its hands full with Setjet and Retenu. This Thutmose – what does he call himself? ‘Strong Bull Raging in Waset’?”

  Everyone laughed.

  “He’s had to go on campaign every year since he took his throne to keep his so–called loyal subjects under control,” the king continued. “He’ll never be strong enough to challenge the Mitanni kingdom here on our own land. Surely he’s not fool enough to attack us. He’s come to our border but he’ll go no farther.”

  Heads nodded in agreement. At the king’s command the music resumed. The serving girls and I began to circulate again. As I poured wine I mulled over what I’d just learned. The enemy had totally misjudged Thut’s will and ability. That was good. They did not expect him to attack them, which was even better. As the hours passed and wine loosened tongues I gained much more useful information – numbers of soldiers, locations of armies, the state of Mitanni defenses. I became convinced that Thut’s plan to deceive the Mitanni by attacking towns in Setjet had worked to perfection. I grasped that if Thut could get his army across the river tonight, before the Mitanni navy was aware he was doing so, that he would have King Saustatar himself in his grasp. I began looking for an opportunity to slip from the tent and return to Thut with my information.

  Most of the commanders had already departed when I finally inched my way towards the doorway. I was nearly outside.

  “Stop her!” a soldier cried.

  The guard beside the tent flap moved into my path.

  I turned and faced the soldier. I still carried the wine jar, now empty.

  “Bring her into the light.”

  I strode forward unconcernedly and stopped next to the oil lamp that rested on a stand near the king’s cushion. I bowed to him respectfully.

  “This woman is clearly not from Naharina!” the soldier barked. “Look at her features.”

  “A lovely creature,” said the king, scanning me from head to toe. “Such unusual red hair… what is your name?”

  “I’m called Mutemuia now, Majesty,” I replied in perfect Mitanni. “I don’t remember my birth name. I was born in Kemet, as you can plainly see. But I was captured and brought to Naharina when I was a very young girl.”

  King Saustatar stiffened. “Captured in Kemet? How could that be? My army has never raided that far.”

  “Not in Kemet, Majesty. In Canaan, in the mountains south of Megiddo.” I now put my experiences in the siege of that city to use. “My father was a trader, a foolish man. He took the path through the Aruna Pass instead of the safe ones north and south of the mountain. Bandits fell upon our caravan and killed him. They brought me to Naharina and sold me as a slave. I grew up in Naharina. I remember nothing about Kemet.”

  “Where were you raised?” a captain asked suspiciously.

  By now all of the remaining commanders had gathered around me.

  I drew upon my long–ago conversations with Artatama, the Mitanni trader I’d befriended on the voyage to Punt, on his descriptions of his hometown. “Assur, My Lord, on the banks of the Tigris River. My master is Shuttarna, and my mistress is Gilukhepa.” Those were the names of Artatama’s mother and father. “Their son, also Shuttarna, is a soldier in this camp. He brought me with him. I sleep among the other camp followers. He ordered me to serve you tonight.” At some length I told the king of Shuttarna’s house, details of Assur, things that only a native would know.

  When I finished and fell silent the king looked at the soldier who had raised the alarm. “I think we have nothing to fear from this woman.” He turned to me. “You may leave.” He slowly looked me over once more. “But return tomorrow, Mutemuia, to serve the evening meal. You are exquisite. Perhaps you will not return to Assur with your master, eh?”

  I bowed. “That would make me very happy, Majesty.” I left the tent, casually strolled through camp towards its outer edge. Once beyond the firelight and past the last tent I tossed aside the wine jar and quickly made my way back to where Thut was waiting.

  He saw me and rose recklessly from the screen of grass and tightly embraced me. “You were gone so long – I thought something had happened.” He kissed me. “I would never have forgiven myself…”

  I made him crouch once more, then hurriedly filled him in on the most important information.

  “You’re correct, Mery,” Thut said excitedly, after I finished recounting what I’d learned. “If I can get my men onto this side of the river before dawn, when the enemy doesn’t expect us, we’ll annihilate the Mitanni.” He pounded one fist into another. “The gods have put the enemy in my grasp!”

  We turned and quickly descended the steep riverbank towards the Euphrates. It shone silver in the moonlight, broad, its current swift, the far bank wooded and cloaked in darkness. We walked along the bank, searched among the rushes and reeds and wooded thickets for some time. We could not locate our boat.

  “It must have come loose and drifted off,” Thut said angrily.

  I dipped my hand into the river. The water was cool. “Well, Thut, now we swim.” I quickly shed my dress, twisted it, tied it around my waist. Thut undressed as well. Together we waded hand in hand into the water. The river bottom was sandy and my feet sank into it. When the water reached my waist I plunged in and started swimming, hard. The current was strong and carried both Thut and me far downstream, but little by little we moved across and finally gained the shore.

  “I’ve lost the landmarks,” Thut said in frustration as we scrambled up the bank, carefully studying the plains in both directions. “I’m not sure where my army is. Yet we have to get back to camp and get my soldiers across the river before dawn, or we’ll be discovered and the Mitanni will be able to stop us from crossing with their boats.”

  “Don’t worry, Thut,” I said reassuringly. “In an hour certain stars will rise. I’ll be able to navigate back to camp. I learned the night sky when Nefer was God’s Wife of Amun.”

  We wrung out our clothes, pu
t them on, then lay on our backs in the grass, waiting for the stars to appear.

  “Tell me everything you heard in the enemy camp,” Thut ordered.

  I did, leaving out nothing.

  “You could have been taken prisoner and executed,” Thut said when I finished my tale. There was a long pause. “Just like at Yapu.”

  “You must know by now that I’d do anything for you, Thut,” I said.

  “Except be my wife.” His voice was bitter.

  “We both know why, and that it was in spite of my love for you.” I stretched my arms over my head, sighed. “Remember that night by the river, at the cataract? Can you believe it’s been twenty–six years?”

  Thut rolled onto his side, faced me. “More than half our lives, Mery, and I’ve never forgotten that night, not one blessed moment of it.” He stroked my hip with his hand. “You’re still so beautiful.”

  “I adored you when we were children, Thut,” I said. “I wanted so much to be your wife. Whenever I pictured our life together, I thought it’d be like that night. Not like it’s been.”

  “I wish things could have been different between us, like they’ve been on this campaign,” Thut said. “But that was not our destiny. Events we couldn’t control have shaped our lives.”

  “And people,” I replied.

  “Neferure. And her mother. And my mother.”

  “And now it’s too late for us, Thut. We’ll go on this way, together yet apart, stealing a few moments a year, for the rest of our days. I wish we’d been born farmers. Nothing would’ve kept us apart then.”

  “It doesn’t have to be too late.” Thut leaned over and kissed me. “You wouldn’t marry me because you didn’t want to hurt Nefer. But would she be hurt by us now? She’s been my wife for more than a decade, Mery. We’ve been at each others’ throats most of that time. We’ve never loved each other as more than brother and sister. We never will.”

  I started to argue and he put his fingers on my lips to silence me.