‘What if one of the sentries manages to sound the alert?’ asked a Theban.
‘Then we’re all dead, so make sure it doesn’t happen.’
Barefoot, as always when moving soundlessly in enemy territory, the Afghan and Moustache ventured out into the fortress. Their fear gave way to intense concentration and economy of movement.
The two first sentries, who were stationed in the inner courtyard, had their throats cut before they could make a sound. Their corpses were dragged into an outbuilding and stripped, and the two rebels put on their tunics, breastplates and black helmets.
The Afghan signalled to his companion that he was going to climb the main stairway to the battlements and that Moustache should take the other one. They reached the two main lookout posts simultaneously; each was occupied by two archers.
With odds of two against one, the operation would be a tricky one.
‘What are you doing here?’ asked one of the Hyksos when he saw the Afghan. ‘You know the commander has forbidden us to leave our posts.’
The Afghan slit his throat, in the hope that his companion’s first thought would be to defend himself rather than shout for help. Indeed the man did, and that was his fatal mistake.
Once his two sentries were dead, the Afghan turned to see if Moustache had had the same success. He saw only the silhouette of a Hyksos soldier, but was reassured when the soldier removed his helmet.
Moustache went back down into the courtyard to fetch the Thebans. He showed them where the other lookouts were posted and allocated each man a target.
‘These young fellows aren’t quite as clumsy as I thought,’ he mused as he watched them move into action.
Eager and determined, they did not set a foot wrong. Less than half an hour after they emerged from the jars, the raiding-party had killed all the Hyksos sentries.
‘Now for the gate,’ ordered Moustache.
Two Thebans opened it while the Afghan set fire to the top of one of the towers. At this signal, Kamose’s first attack regiment would know it could move towards Per-Hathor without fear.
‘Let’s hope he gets here soon,’ whispered the Afghan, ‘or we may have problems.’
‘We must get to the sleeping-quarters,’ Moustache whispered back, ‘and kill as many Hyksos as possible.’
‘No, wait a moment. Look there, at the bottom of the main tower. Do you think that’s the commander’s quarters?’
‘Let’s go and find out.’
Protected by the friendly darkness, they pounced on the commander, who was sound asleep - at first.
‘Order your men to surrender,’ advised the Afghan.
‘Hyksos does not surrender.’
‘I know you,’ said Moustache. ‘You were stationed in the Delta a few years ago, and you tortured several of our comrades.’
‘Per-Hathor is impregnable,’ said the commander. ‘Lay down your weapons immediately.’
‘You Hyksos bore me,’ said the Afghan. ‘It’s impossible to have a discussion with you.’
He pushed the commander outside, forced him to climb up on to the ramparts and, seizing his ankles, threw him over the edge.
‘Now,’ he said, ‘we’ll go to the sleeping-quarters.’
Fortune continued to smile on them. The Thebans managed to break down the doors of two of the chambers, using heavy beams as battering-rams. The soldiers in the third, awakened by the noise, came rushing out; they were killed one by one as they emerged.
Just as the members of the raiding-party were beginning to tire, the vanguard of the army of liberation poured into the fortress, with Pharaoh Kamose at its head.
Queen Ahhotep stood at the prow of the flagship, watching the impregnable fortress burn.
24
As Hyksos envoy and a master spy, One-Eye knew everything that happened in Nubia. It was a vast region, populated by warlike tribes which had recently been united by King Nedjeh, a natural leader of men, and one whose methods were brutal.
One-Eye was a former infantry general and expert killer. Officially, he had lost his left eye during a heroic fight from which he had emerged victorious. Actually, it had been put out by a Nubian girl he was trying to rape.
For a long time, he had worried that Nedjeh might be so full of his own importance that he would dare to attack Elephantine. But the Nubian had contented himself with his rich domain of Kerma, and declared himself a faithful vassal of Apophis, to whom he sent regular tributes.
This sensible behaviour had made One-Eye suspicious. Was Nedjeh secretly preparing to capture Elephantine, the great city that lay at the southern tip of Egypt, beside the First Cataract? Fortunately, the information provided by his spies gave no cause for concern. Several of them indicated that Nedjeh was growing fat and was interested only in consolidating his position locally. After travelling the length and breadth of Nubia to reassure himself that no trouble was brewing, One-Eye had come to Elephantine for a few weeks’ rest.
The Hyksos garrison here led a peaceful life. They had a perfect understanding with the few Nubian soldiers stationed upstream of the cataract, and, being so far from Avaris, some of the officers were beginning to forget their people’s warlike vocation. Anyone could see that discipline was growing less and less strict, and that the main barracks housed more and more women, whose presence had previously been forbidden. Little by little, the mild winters and hot summers had softened even the hardiest souls, and the men were more interested in having good food and comfortable living-quarters than in keeping their weapons in proper order.
The garrison had neither chariots nor horses, which were reserved for the army of the North. Its boats were ancient and in need of major repair. As for the fortress itself, though it looked as impressive as Per-Hathor it suffered from faults in its construction. Moreover, its great gate was often left open, and the sentries were not as vigilant as they might be.
‘But who would ever dare attack Elephantine?’ the town’s governor asked One-eye, whose initial anger had been softened by the Nubian girl he had found in his bed and the excellent meal he and the governor had just finished.
‘Are there any problems with the Nubians?’ asked One-Eye.
‘Not a single one, dear friend. As allies they are a little hot-tempered, but they’re perfectly loyal. The mere name of the emperor brings them to heel, and so it should. Between ourselves, I hope I shall not be recalled to Avaris. Leaving this little paradise would be a wrench.’
A cup-bearer hurried up to the table and handed the governor a shard of limestone. ‘An urgent message, my lord, very urgent!’
‘What is it now? I’ll wager the officers are complaining about the quality of the local beer. All the same, we mustn’t—’ The governor stopped dead as he read the message, which was written in a sailor’s clumsy hand. “‘Per-Hathor has fallen.”
What’s that supposed to mean, “Per-Hathor has fallen”?’
‘Someone has captured it,’ said One-Eye.
‘But who on earth could do that?’
As the two men looked at each other, stunned, they heard shouts rising up from the Nile.
‘We may not have to wait long to find out,’ said One-Eye grimly.
They hurried up to the top of the fortress’s highest tower. From this vantage-point, they saw the Theban war-fleet, its sails bellying out in a strong north wind.
Taken by surprise, the Hyksos boats were already sinking. In a few minutes, the army of Kamose and Ahhotep would reach land and attack the citadel. Panic overtook the Hyksos soldiers, contradictory orders flying about in all directions.
‘The gate … the archers … the barracks … Quickly - we must act quickly!’ exclaimed the governor, rushing down the stairway.
In his hurry, he missed a step and fell. On the long way down, his head hit the wall several times. By the time he reached the bottom of the stairway, he was dead.
One-Eye had only one objective: to get out of Elephantine and reach Kerma, to warn King Nedjeh.
For the firs
t time, Moustache and the Afghan did not have to join battle themselves during the final, victorious attack. Although disorganized after their commander’s death, the Hyksos defended themselves fiercely, but the Thebans’ zeal was so great that it swept away the enemy within a few hours.
‘Our young lads gave a good account of themselves,’ observed Moustache.
‘Hard work always pays off,’ replied the Afghan. ‘Today they’re reaping the benefits of the training the queen demanded of them.’
As he spoke, Ahhotep emerged into the square before the Temple of Khnum, the patron god of Elephantine; beside her was Pharaoh Kamose, who wore the White Crown. Holding a bow in her left hand and an ankh, the sign of life, in her right, she embodied Thebes the liberator.
Kamose had never felt so happy. Thanks to Ahhotep’s plan, which had been executed with breathtaking speed, all the land between Thebes and Elephantine was now free of Hyksos. In the streets and squares, the people were honouring the soldiers of the army of liberation, and already banquets were being prepared which would last late into the night.
A very old priest emerged from the temple. He walked with difficulty, leaning on a stick. ‘I wish I could bow before Your Majesties, but my back is too stiff. What happiness to welcome you here! I was right to resist death, in the impossible hope that I would see this town set free.’
‘Take my arm,’ said the queen.
‘Majesty, I …’
‘Please. You are the guardian of the potter’s wheel, are you not?’
The old man’s lined face lit up. ‘In spite of all their searching, the Hyksos did not find it. In this temple, the first steering-oar was made, enabling the ship of state to be guided. Also here, the god Khnum fashioned all living beings on his potter’s wheel. I shall reveal these mysteries to you, and then I shall be able to die in peace.’
Dozens of gazelles had come out of the desert, to invade the gardens of Elephantine and play with the children. Once again, the people could celebrate the festival of their patron goddess, Anukis, represented by a very pretty woman wearing a white crown decorated with the slender horns of a gazelle.
While the town was expressing its joy, the old priest reopened the entrance to the the temple’s vaults, which lay under the paved floor of the inner shrine. A hundred times the Hyksos soldiers had profaned this place, never suspecting that the treasures they coveted lay beneath their feet.
The acacia-wood steering-oar was so heavy that Kamose had to summon several men to lift it out of the depths. From this day on, it would steer the flagship.
Then the young pharaoh took in his hands the potter’s wheel with which Khnum had positioned the celestial vault, raised up the firmament and shaped the cosmos so that light might shine through every part of it. One by one, the gods, animals and men had emerged from this matrix.
The old priest, the queen and the king climbed up to the temple roof. There, they would expose the wheel to the sun so that it would be able to function once more.
‘Life begins again,’ intoned the priest, ‘and breath brings matter to life.’
When the night sky was unveiled, the old scholar showed his guests how to use the sighting-instruments that had helped the ancients to understand the movements of the sun, the moon and the stars. They had known that the so-called ‘fixed’ stars in fact moved, and that the centre around which they seemed to move also changed position because of the precession of the world’s axis.
Kamose was fascinated and could have listened enraptured for nights on end as the old man happily passed on his knowledge.
‘First thing tomorrow,’ promised the pharaoh, ‘you shall begin training your successors. Many priests, servants and craftsmen will be appointed so that this temple may regain its former activity and splendour.’
The priest smiled. Then my death will have to wait a little longer, Majesty.’
Ahhotep gazed out at the First Cataract, which marked the border with Nubia. She shared her son’s joy at the taking of Elephantine, but it was only a stage in the war and their victory, though dazzling, was very fragile. Beyond the barrier of rocks illuminated by the moon-good lay the enemy. An enemy quite capable of wiping out the army of liberation.
25
Queen Ahhotep and King Kamose spent a long time meditating on the isle of Biga where, according to tradition, both the body of Osiris and the sources of the Nile were located. The waters of the river divided as they sprang forth from a cavern, one branch flowing north while the other flowed south. The source of the spring lay so deep that no one had ever reached it.
There was absolute silence on the island. Even the birds forbore to sing there, so as not to disturb the rest of the reborn god whom Isis had snatched back from death. By and in Osiris the souls of the righteous were reborn, the beings of light among whom Pharaoh Seqen now dwelt.
Aboard the boat taking them back to Elephantine, the young king could not hide his profound emotion. ‘This town is the head of the country, the capital of the first province of Upper Egypt, and it safeguards the sacred origins of the Nile. By controlling it again, we make the river our invincible ally. Like Osiris, the land of the pharaohs is reborn. Shouldn’t we forget the Nubians and leave immediately for the North?’
Ahhotep shook her head. ‘No, because we must slacken the noose once and for all by making sure that King Nedjeh will never again wish to attack us. And there is only one way to do that: we must reconquer Buhen and so cordon off the whole of Nubia.’
Kamose unrolled a papyrus on which a simple map was drawn. ‘So we must sail almost as far as the Second Cataract. On such a long journey, isn’t there a risk that the Nubians will ambush us long before we reach Buhen?’
‘It is a possibility,’ agreed Ahhotep, ‘but I believe he has blind confidence in Buhen’s ability to repulse any attack. It is as powerful as Per-Hathor and Elephantine put together. If its Egyptian governor had not betrayed us to the Hyksos, the Nubians would certainly not have succeeded in taking it.’
‘Are you planning to use the trick with the jars again?’
‘I’m afraid that’s impossible.’
‘Then we must expect a long and painful siege, with an uncertain outcome. And during that time, there is a risk that the front at Qis will collapse.’
‘That is another possibility,’ admitted the queen. ‘If you think my plan is wrong, you are free to reject it.’
‘I’d never dare oppose you, Mother. You’re the liberator of Egypt.’
‘And you are Pharaoh. I shall always obey your orders.’ Kamose gazed out over the Nile. ‘By becoming the Wife of God, by giving all your love to this country, which you rightly revere, you are following an earthly path which was born in the heavens. I am only a young king and I do not yet have your clarity of thought and vision. Sometimes, I wonder if you are completely of this world or if part of you dwells beyond the visible, leading this army safely to its goal. I shall never give you an order, Mother, and I shall follow wherever you lead.’
The festival was over, the town silent, and the gazelles had returned to the desert. Although most of the soldiers had dreadful headaches, all those who were to leave for Nubia had gathered on the quayside. They envied their comrades who were to form the new garrison at Elephantine.
Neshi went up to the pharaon and bowed. ‘All is ready, Majesty. We have taken on large supplies of foodstuffs and weapons. I checked each consignment myself.’
‘You look worried.’
‘Our men are afraid, Majesty. The inhabitants of Elephantine have told them about the black warriors, who are as dangerous as wild beasts. Everyone knows that Nubia is full of evil spells which no one can eradicate. After all, the creator’s eye fled into those burning deserts, to destroy all forms of life. If you were to give up this expedition into the unknown, everyone would be relieved.’
‘Including you, Neshi?’
‘I would be disappointed and anxious. Disappointed by our leaders’ inconstancy, and anxious about the process of liberation.’
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‘That is not a very diplomatic thing to say.’
‘I am not a diplomat, Majesty. I am the Bearer of the Royal Seal, who ratifies and makes known Pharaoh’s decisions. If I find them bad, I must be honest. And if that honesty displeases you, dismiss me and replace me with someone more tractable.’
Kamose smiled. ‘Whatever else you do, Neshi, don’t change.’
‘Our troops’ fear is a setback, and I don’t know how to counter it.’
‘My mother has asked the craftsmen of Elephantine to make some unusual weapons which should reassure them.’
Dazzlingly beautiful in a long green gown and floral headdress, Queen Ahhotep went out into the square to address the army. She was followed by several craftsmen carrying heavy baskets.
‘We are about to face formidable enemies,’ she acknowledged. ‘Before we even reach Buhen, we shall have to defeat Nubian warriors who will fight ferociously. But there is a magical means of weakening them: using these objects covered with powerful symbols.’
She reached into one of the baskets and took out a curved throwing-stick engraved with an eye, a rearing cobra, a griffin and the head of a jackal.
‘The eye will enable us to see danger,’ she explained, ‘and the cobra to dispel it. The griffin and the jackal will ward off the destructive forces of the desert. Officers and their deputies will be equipped with these weapons in order to protect the men under their command. And one made of ivory, bearing the same signs, will ensure that our voyage is peaceful.’
The queen had never lied to them, so the men were persuaded that, once again, she would succeed in protecting them from evil. With enthusiasm, the sailors hoisted the sails and yards with the aid of halyards on which they heaved with all their strength. The manoeuvre was a difficult one, even for professionals. But nothing went wrong, and the sails fluttered free, watched attentively by the captains.
War of the Crowns Page 11