War of the Crowns

by Christian Jacq

  ‘If this damned wind doesn’t drop, there’ll soon be no one left to admire.’

  ‘You’re too much of a sceptic, Afghan. How can you imagine for a second that a true pharaoh could be struck down by adversity?’

  The smoke from the torches rose up and attacked the plague-ridden air. The sky was transformed into an immense battlefield, deserted by the birds. Tortured spirals were drawn there, shot through with the immense red arrows fired by Sekhmet’s emissaries.

  Ahmose held his mother’s hand tightly. ‘You aren’t afraid, are you?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course I am, but what does that matter? We have acted in accordance with the rites and used all our weapons. Now it is for the moon-god to decide. Up there, he fights a never-ending war, and sometimes he seems to be on the point of death, but he always succeeds in regaining the upper hand.’

  ‘Do you think he’ll succeed again?’

  ‘I am absolutely certain of it.’

  Ahmose never doubted his mother’s word. And when the silver disc of the full moon pierced the clouds, he knew that that word was the truth.

  As the first dawn of the new year broke, the wind dropped at last and the plague ebbed away. Exhausted, the Thebans fell into one another’s arms, aware that they had escaped from mortal danger. Many dived into the Nile to purify themselves of the last traces of sickness; others prepared a celebratory meal.

  Young Laughter barked with joy and Way-Finder shook his long ears, while Ahmose fell asleep in the queen’s arms.

  17

  The emperor thoroughly enjoyed his meal of a leg of goose cooked in sauce. The report Khamudi had just given him, based on information provided by the spy in Thebes, contained much to rejoice about. Many enemy soldiers had died of the plague, and the morale of Ahhotep’s army was shattered. Only the troops at Qis still had to be isolated, made vulnerable to a determined attack.

  Apophis had devised a new, rather entertaining plan which would allow him to swell the coffers of Avaris still further. Wholeheartedly enthusiastic about this plan, Khamudi had been instructed to put the emperor’s thoughts into practice, on the one hand by sending out hundreds of scarabs into Middle Egypt, and on the other by sending officials charged with spreading the good news.

  The stinking cloud had killed many animals and depopulated vast areas of farmland. People were so afraid that the peasants were cowering in their reed huts beside the fields, as if that pathetic shelter could protect them from the arrows of Sekhmet’s invisible minions.

  Many people, in the first days of the new year, all but despaired as they tried to resume their normal lives. But not Big-Feet. He was one of those who cared more about their milch-cows than about themselves. Plague wind or not, he had gone on feeding and milking his animals, while at the same time grumbling about the poor quality of the grass.

  When the first boat arrived, Big-Feet did not run away. He had to defend his cows, even against a Hyksos regiment.

  A civilian came towards him. ‘I am one of the officials in charge of the floodplains and pastures of the Delta,’ he said in a friendly manner. ‘Up there, in the North, thanks to Apophis’s magic, we haven’t suffered any evil winds.’

  ‘That’s all very for you,’ grunted Big-Feet.

  ‘We benefit from the emperor’s generosity, which extends to all his subjects, including you.’

  ‘Oh yes? How?’

  ‘Dozens of boats will take your animals and the other herds—there’s plenty of fodder aboard—up north to the area around Avaris. They’ll be well fed there, and will soon get their health back. Then you can come home again.’

  This ancient practice had been abandoned since the beginning of the Hyksos occupation. To see it revived was something of a cause for celebration. But there was one serious problem.

  ‘How much is this going to cost me?’

  ‘Nothing at all, my friend—the emperor’s only concern is the well-being of his people. I tell you, the Delta pastures are incredibly lush, and its stables are well-built and welcoming. Go and tell your village about it, and tell them that our boats are here. But tell them to hurry. Although the Hyksos have sent a huge fleet, there may not be room for everyone.’

  After long, noisy discussions, most people opted to go. The emperor’s generosity was an unexpected windfall—those who accused the Hyksos of cruelty were wrong. True, the occupation had had its difficult periods, but this decision marked a major turning-point. Apophis was behaving like a true pharaoh, concerned for the welfare of his people. He had realized that this was the only policy that would win the Egyptians’ trust.

  So the villagers herded their half-starved cows and oxen towards the boats, forgetting that, not far away, the rebels still held the front at Qis. A few peasants regretted not being able to provide them with food any more, but the Thebans had surely been wrong to stand up against their true sovereign. In any case, cow-herds and farmers were not soldiers.

  Like his companions, Big-Feet found the journey very agreeable. They had all the beer, bread and dried fish they wanted, and they were able to enjoy long rests, something they were not used to. The further north they travelled, the more luxuriant the countryside became. The cultivated areas grew wider, and there were more and more waterways. It was a veritable paradise for cow-men and their herds.

  At last they arrived.

  Big-Feet stroked his cows, which had coped well with the long journey. ‘Come along, my beauties, you’re going to have a lovely time.’

  A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, and a black-helmeted Hyksos officer said harshly, ‘You, peasant, come with me.’

  ‘I’m not leaving my cows.’

  ‘Your cows? That’s rubbish. Don’t tell me you didn’t realize … ? These animals are on a boat belonging to the emperor, so they belong to him, too.’

  ‘What are you talking about? They’re just going to graze here for a while, and then I’m taking them back home.’

  The officer laughed loudly. ‘That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in all my life! Now, stop talking, fellow, and follow me—now.’

  ‘I’m a cow-herd, and I’m not leaving my cows.’

  The Hyksos slapped him hard across the face.

  Although peaceable by nature, Big-Feet hated being hit. He punched the Hyksos, and knocked him out.

  The officer’s men were enraged, and reacted at once. The odds were one against ten, and Big-Feet’s resistance didn’t last long. His head bloody, his wrists shackled, he was chained to another peasant and forced to join a never-ending procession of prisoners.

  ‘Where are we being taken?’ he asked his companion in misfortune.

  ‘I don’t know anything.’

  ‘My cows … What will become of them? And the people from my village?’

  ‘The Hyksos killed anyone who tried to run away. The others are chained up, like us.’

  A tall woman with enormous hands hailed them. ‘You’re good sturdy fellows,’ exclaimed the lady Aberia. ‘That’s much better. The journey will be more entertaining. Usually I have too many old men, females and city-dwellers. They’re used to a soft life and don’t last the distance. You aren’t afraid of the sun or the dust or hard work, I’m sure. Whatever you do, don’t disappoint me.’

  Still thinking of his cows, and the fact that he was the only person who could milk them properly, Big-Feet walked on. Beside the track he saw the corpses of some old women and children.

  ‘I’m thirsty,’ said his companion.

  ‘We’ll ask them for water. They can’t refuse.’

  Big-Feet hailed two soldiers who were passing in a chariot drawn by two horses. ‘We need water.’

  ‘You’ll get it when we stop, all except those who are insolent—like you.’

  The chariot moved back up the column, in a cloud of dust.

  ‘I thought the emperor was a good, just man,’ confessed Big-Feet, ‘because he was looking after my animals. Why has he done this? We haven’t done him any harm.’

  ‘He wants to r
emove all the Egyptians from Egypt and replace them with Hyksos—only Hyksos. Being Egyptian is a crime now.’

  Big-Feet still did not understand, but he kept on walking, even when his companion died of thirst.

  When they reached the marshes that surrounded Sharuhen, he flung himself into the reeds and drank muddy water. A Hyksos guard hauled him up by his hair and clubbed him, and he had not the strength to fight back.

  The guard took off the chains attaching Big-Feet to the corpse he had dragged for so long, then pushed him into a large enclosed courtyard, watched over by archers posted on wooden towers.

  The first person he saw there was a young, naked girl with mad eyes, her body covered with sores. She threw herself repeatedly against a stake and managed to break her skull.

  Sitting on a mound of filth, an old man held his wife’s hand, not noticing that she had stopped breathing. Exhausted men with empty eyes walked past one another without exchanging a single word. Others were digging in the waterlogged earth for any kind of food.

  Who could have dreamt up and imposed such atrocities, if not the Emperor of Darkness, that liar who had not hesitated to trick simple peasants? Big-Feet would never forgive him for stealing his cows.

  ‘Cow-herd, get down on your face.’

  A guard set his foot on the prisoner’s neck, while another branded a number on his buttock with a red-hot bronze rod. The surviving inmates of Sharuhen did not turn a hair as Big-Feet, prisoner number 1790, screamed in pain.

  18

  ‘I can do that, too,’ Ahmose told Kamose. ‘I can hit the centre of a target,’

  ‘I have the feeling you’re boasting a little bit.’

  ‘Try me!’

  ‘All right,’

  Kamose took Ahmose to an archery practice area reserved for beginners. It was surrounded by palisades, so that stray arrows would not injure anyone.

  ‘Do you draw your bow yourself?’ asked Kamose.

  ‘Of course!’

  ‘I’ll check that the target is fixed firmly in place.’

  There was complete understanding between the brothers. The king regretted that Ahmose was too young to fight at his side, but he knew that, if the worst happened, his brother would take up his sword.

  Just as Kamose reached the target, he heard a familiar whistling sound.

  ‘Get down, quickly!‘ yelled Ahmose at the top of his voice.

  ‘It isn’t serious,’ said Teti. ‘The arrow only grazed your neck. And with honey compresses there won’t even be a scar.’

  ‘You saved my life,’ Kamose told Ahmose, who was still shaking.

  ‘Did you see who fired?’ Ahhotep asked him.

  ‘No,’ said the child. ‘I ran straight to Kamose and didn’t think to look around. When I saw blood on his neck I was afraid-so afraid!’

  ‘Come and wash,’ his grandmother ordered. ‘You really don’t look like a prince.’ The two of them left the infirmary.

  There’s a spy in the camp,’ said Ahhotep, ‘and he tried to kill you.’

  ‘I don’t think so, Mother. Despite Ahmose’s warning, I didn’t have time to duck. If the archer had really wanted to kill me, he wouldn’t have missed. This wound is a warning: either I content myself with ruling Thebes or else I shall die.’

  Ahhotep considered his words. ‘In other words, your future depends on the outcome of today’s council of war.’

  Queen Ahhotep, Pharaoh Kamose, Heray, Qaris, the generals and principal government scribes had assembled in the twinpillared hall of the palace at the military camp. They were all aware that they were participating in a momentous decision, and the atmosphere was tense.

  ‘The current situation is a stalemate,’ said the pharaon. ‘The little kingdom of Thebes may have its freedom, but it’s an illusory freedom because we’re imprisoned by the Hyksos tyrant in the north and the Nubian tyrant in the south. We have no access to caravan or mining routes, and our isolation is becoming more and more intolerable, and even dangerous. The Pharaoh of Egypt wears only the White Crown. He cannot allow the Emperor of Darkness to usurp his right to wear the Red Crown.’

  ‘Indeed, Majesty, indeed,’ agreed the oldest general, ‘but, all the same, is it wise to hurl ourselves into an all-out war which we will undoubtedly lose?’

  ‘How can we know that unless we try?’ asked a scribe called Neshi, a thin, bald man with piecing eyes.

  The general, who cordially disliked the scholar, stiffened and retorted, ‘In his own sphere, Neshi the Archivist’s skills are indisputable, but I do not think he is qualified to suggest military tactics. Unless I am much mistaken, he is only here because of the need to take notes and produce a report.’

  Kamose intervened. ‘If I understand you correctly, General, you are in favour of maintaining the current situation.’

  ‘To be absolutely frank, Majesty, I believe that is the best solution. I am well aware that the Hyksos are occupying a large part of our country, but is that not a reality we shall eventually have to accept? The enemy army is at least ten times more powerful than our own: it would be madness to attack it. We should be content with what Queen Ahhotep’s courage has brought us. Thebes is free, and we can live here in peace. Why ask for more and destroy this fragile balance?’

  ‘So fragile that it is no balance at all,’ countered Neshi. ‘Stagnation leads to death: that is what Queen Ahhotep has taught us. In believing we are safe, we make ourselves easy prey for the emperor.’

  The general grew angrier. ‘This is intolerable, Majesty. Neshi ought to hold his tongue.’

  ‘It is I who give the orders, General,’ said Kamose coldly, ‘and I say that each member of this council may speak his mind.’

  The soldier moderated his tone a little, but went on trying to persuade the king. ‘Do you realize, Majesty, that the Hyksos are not opposed to peace? They have just given us a shining example of their good will by allowing livestock belonging to peasants from Middle Egypt to graze in the floodplains of the Delta. And that isn’t all: they have also given grain to our pig-farmers. Hasn’t the time come to lay down our arms and start negotiating about trade?’

  ‘How can you believe such lies?’ said Neshi furiously. ‘The Hyksos are past masters at spreading false information, and people who let themselves be taken in by it always come to a bad end. Apophis will never agree to yield a single cubit of his empire. The peasants who go to the Delta will be made slaves, and their animals will be confiscated.’

  ‘This really is too much!’ exclaimed the general. On the basis of what information does this scribe dare contradict me?’

  ‘Neshi is right,’ confirmed Qaris. ‘The Hyksos have indeed enslaved the peasants they pretended to be helping.’

  Another senior officer leapt to the aid of his colleague. ‘If the Hyksos are indeed still ruthless and unified, Majesty, surely that is another reason not to provoke them. It is clear that the emperor accepts the present situation, because he is allowing our northern border to exist at Qis. Let us take advantage of his indulgence and keep what we have gained.’

  Ahhotep rose to her feet and gazed sternly at the two generals. ‘Do you believe that Pharaoh Seqen died merely to enlarge the Theban enclave, and that he would be content with this gain? The whole of Egypt must be liberated, not just part of it. Anyone who forgets that sacred duty is unworthy to serve under Pharaoh Kamose.’

  ‘You are no longer members of my war council,’ the king informed the two officers. ‘But I trust you will prove yourselves worthy on the field of battle, at the head of your regiments.’

  The two generals withdrew sheepishly from the audience chamber.

  The king turned to Neshi. ‘You are hereby appointed Bearer of the Royal Seal and Overseer of the Treasury. I also charge you with stewardship of the army: ensure that every man is well armed and properly fed.

  Neshi rose and bowed deeply to Pharaoh. When he was seated again, he said, ‘Although our troops are ready to leave, Majesty, my first advice to you is to wait.’

 
Kamose was surprised. ‘Surely you don’t agree that it would be better to negotiate with Apophis?’

  ‘Absolutely not, since the empire of darkness will not change. But you told me to ensure that our soldiers are properly fed, and if we wage war at this time of year there is a risk that we shall run out of food. Late spring would be better, because by then the harvest will be in.’

  Heray and Qaris agreed.

  ‘Before launching the offensive, Majesty,’ added Neshi, ‘it would be a good idea to bring home some of the soldiers from the front and replace them with fresh men. Between now and the offensive, strengthening the front should be our main priority.’

  Kamose was convinced his new adviser was right. ‘Then that is what we shall do.’

  ‘I believe we should consider another course of action,’ said Ahhotep.

  The king and his council looked at her attentively.

  ‘Engaging all our forces on the northern front would carry a risk we are too apt to forget: an attack from the Nubians, who would dearly like to capture Thebes. Apophis is waiting for us at Qis, not at Elephantine or in Nubia. The real priority is to reconquer the southern part of our country and to make the Nubians realize that if they attack they will be heavily defeated. For that reason, when spring comes the major part of our army will march not north but south.’

  19

  Yima, Kamhudi’s wife, was a fat woman with dyed blond hair, who considered herself a ravishing beauty. Knowing how possessive her husband was, she was careful not to be too blatant about taking lovers, and when she tired of her fleeting conquests she instantly got rid of them with the aid of her confidante, Aberia, who was only too happy to kill Egyptian slaves. Aberia could strangle a strong man with one hand, and every day she exercised to strengthen her muscles and amused herself by killing any Hyksos soldiers who dared defy her.

  Yima lived in perfect happiness with Khamudi. She could enjoy his fortune, torture as many servants as she liked, and satisfy her perverted urges in the company of a husband who was as depraved as herself. But a lurking shadow threatened this happiness: Tany, the ‘empress’, always treated her with contempt.