They entered the passageway. There was a movement at my side. I saw Anoukhet crouching like a leopard ready to leap—the dagger in her hand—waiting for the moment they would pass exactly below.
I tugged frantically at her arm. She shook me off. Suddenly, there was a blur of movement. I expected to see her flying through the air. But it was Tuthmosis who had flung himself at her. With a dull thud he wrestled her down to the ground, clamped a hand tightly across her mouth, and pinned her with the weight of his body. Then he tried to wrench the dagger from her. She thrashed and rolled and kicked and struggled beneath him.
They were still in the shadow but dangerously close to the edge. In panic I let go of Kyky and grabbed hold of Anoukhet’s boots, clinging to her legs.
Then I glanced down over the edge. The moment had passed. The men were through the passageway and galloping away from us. The noise of their camels had masked the sounds of our struggle. My heart seemed stuck somewhere. I could hardly draw breath.
“Vixen!” Tuthmosis let out a sharp curse as Anoukhet kicked violently and twisted out from under him. There was blood dripping from his hand.
She leaned up against a rock, panting and glaring back at us, her breath coming in gasps, her hair tangled and her eyes glinting dangerously, her teeth and mouth blood-smeared. More wild animal than girl.
“Cowards! All of you! It would’ve been better to die than to do nothing!” She spit into the sand. “Curse you, Tuthmosis! Why did you stop me? I’d have killed them all. Killed the first one I landed on. Then taken on the other four easily.”
“You could never take on four men. . . .” But I was silenced by her withering glance.
“You haven’t seen me! I’m deadly accurate with a throwing dagger. And my sword would have finished off the other three!”
I stared back at her. Yes. With her wild animal face, I could believe she’d have finished them all off!
“I had it planned,” she said between her bloodied teeth. “How dare you, Tuthmosis! How dare you stop me! You think because you’re the son of a king, you have to be obeyed. I’m not one of your slaves. I will not obey you! Don’t ever do that to me again!”
Tuthmosis stood glaring down at her. “Don’t ever bite me again!” was all he said.
I looked from one to the other as they stared at each other with blazing eyes, waiting to see who would turn away first. When neither did, I stepped between them and took Tuthmosis’s hand. “Let me rinse this and bind it for you, before you lose too much blood.”
The three of us were tied by bonds, but this was still going to be a difficult journey.
17
ABU ISLAND
When I had finished binding Tuthmosis’s hand with strips of torn linen, he nodded toward Anoukhet. “Her hair needs cutting. She has to look like a boy. Yours is short enough. But cut hers.”
“Don’t you dare!” she growled at me.
I eyed him. “Stop giving orders, Tuthmosis! There’s no moss to wet it with and make a lather. It can wait until we reach the river.”
“Do it now—without lather. Before we risk meeting anyone else.”
I drew my blade reluctantly from my belt.
Anoukhet jumped up. “I’ll do it myself!” She snatched up her dagger—the jeweled one that had cut to the heart of Naqada—grabbed a fistful of her hair, and hacked it with one quick movement. She flung the hair down and hacked again and again.
The long black tendrils fell against the sand in shapes as intricate and intertwined as strange hieroglyphs. They seemed to be telling their own secret story—something of who Anoukhet really was.
A new person stood before us, wild-eyed and shorn. I glanced at her face but she wouldn’t meet my eye. I gathered up the thick strands and shook them free of sand. How long had they taken to grow to such a length? I laid the strands in a roll of cloth, bound them up, and handed them to her.
She shrugged her shoulders and tossed the bundle into her saddlebag. I saw the glitter in her eyes. I knew they weren’t tears of regret, but tears of anger that she’d been forced to obey Tuthmosis. Yes, it would be a difficult journey.
Our camel was a bony and supercilious beast with bloodshot eyes. We knew the camel hated us from the moment we had first walked around it, wondering where and how to climb up. It had moaned and spit and snarled as we’d approached. The only way to mount the camel without help was to get on while it was kneeling down and then get it to rise.
We heaved ourselves on and sat astride, with Anoukhet up front. She prodded and urged the camel up. In the standing process, we were thrown backward and forward twice—each jolt more violent and unexpected than the one before. Once we were up, if we moved in the saddle, he snarled and tried to snap at us. And when Anoukhet tried to urge him in another direction, he turned to bite our feet.
She seemed not the least bit bothered as she forced it forward down the cliff path.
After a long, silent afternoon of never-ending sand dunes rippling toward the horizon, I sensed the camel’s sudden change of pace. Suddenly we came over a rise of amber sand and found ourselves looking down on a landscape of black boulders tumbled and glistening in the sun like polished jet.
The Great River lay before us—but different from any part of the river I’d seen so far. Instead of smooth-flowing water, the river was choppy and white-curdled as it rushed and tumbled over, around, and between huge, smooth black rocks.
Upstream was an island, so large it seemed almost like the opposite bank. It divided the river in two. The island was rugged and high to the south with stone walls of a temple and a coastline of creeks and small sandy beaches. Groves of palm and mimosa and castor-oil trees came down to the water’s edge on the side closest to us. In its heart were tilled patches of cotton plants, lentils, durra, and wildflowers.
The camel tender indicated with his chin. “Abu Island—Elephantine Island—named after the boulders, which look like the backs of elephants wallowing in the water.”
After the harshness of the desert, it was like a green jewel set in the river. I let out a sigh. “We’re safe at last!”
Tuthmosis shook his head. “Not yet! We aren’t beyond the control of Thebes. My father built that temple and a harbor for his army. There’ll be Egyptian soldiers here. We must travel farther south.”
My heart sank.
Anoukhet shook her head. “We can’t move on directly. We need to cross to Syene first.” She indicated the opposite bank of the river. There was a sprawl of mud-brick houses with dark-mouthed alleyways between them. “There’ll be food and a chance to rest.”
“There’ll be soldiers as well! It’s too dangerous. They’ll be on the lookout for us.”
Anoukhet laughed as she gave him a swift glance. “Not looking like that! You hardly look like a royal prince! Besides, there’s no settlement farther south of these cataracts for a long while. There’ll be no marketplace or chance of food farther on.”
We urged the camels onto a barge that took us to the other side. The bank was crowded with people, bales of goods, heaps of dates spilling out of woven baskets, and donkeys and camels both laden and unladen. Rotting, half-sunk boats lay poking out of the mud, and dried-out hulls lay among the reeds in the afternoon sunshine. The edge of the river itself was covered with boats moored so tightly together that they made a solid raft over which people crossed and recrossed as they loaded and unloaded goods. Men paddled from shore to shore in small reed boats, dragging fishing nets.
The noise of barking dogs, shrill voices, camels snorting and snarling, donkeys braying, dealers shouting, and children squealing and splashing mingled with the hissing and chatter of the cataracts.
Down narrow alleyways people held up goods at arm’s length, begging us to stop and look and buy. What was offered was new and strange compared to what I’d seen before. Ostrich eggs, tortoiseshell, porcupine quills, claws and teeth, spears, bows, arrows, ebony clubs, daggers, wrinkled animal skins, whips made of hippopotamus hide, ivory bracelets cut in solid
circles from elephant tusks, gold nose rings, leather girdles decorated with bright glass beads and cowrie shells, human skulls—or so they looked—and sloughed snakeskins.
Powerful and exciting aromas rose up from heaps of red, gold, and amber powders, curious-looking roots, shriveled pods, and strange bulbs, and young boys ran alongside us offering handfuls. Anoukhet leaned down from the camel, laughing and arguing, touching and feeling and smelling everything that was thrust toward us. When a boy handed her a flask of castor oil, she pulled out the stopper and began rubbing her arms with it. Then she laughed and handed him a strip of a goat’s-wool scarf in exchange.
“Stop that!” Tuthmosis hissed. “You’re behaving like a girl!”
She flashed a look at him. “You forget. I am a girl! This is my place! I know how to behave here! It’s you who is the stranger in Syene. You forget I’m Nubian. I’m named after the goddess of Nubia—Anoukhet—goddess of the hunt and goddess of the waters of the Great River! Syene is my home.”
“I’ll be off, then,” the old camel tender announced, looking between the two of them. “You’ve no more need of me. I brought you safely through the desert; now I must leave you.” He nodded toward Anoukhet. “Keep your camel. I’ll take this one in payment.”
We bade him farewell and Tuthmosis slid down and untied his saddlebag. It seemed to amuse Anoukhet that we rode on the camel while he walked alongside us.
He caught her look. “We’ll be selling your camel soon. We need to buy a boat to go farther downstream.”
Anoukhet shook her head. “Have you seen the cataracts? Boats aren’t used on this part of the river. Camels and donkeys transport everything around the cataracts.” She nodded her head toward one of the shadowy, dark alleyways. “There’s a place down there to get food and drink.”
Tuthmosis shook his head. “It looks rough. There might be soldiers from the garrison.”
Anoukhet flashed a look at us and laughed as she made the camel kneel and tied it to a post. “So? We’re not girls, remember! I’m thirsty and hungry. Come on,” she urged. “Let’s not argue about this.”
“Aren’t you going to search for your family?”
“They’re dead, for all I know. They were all taken into slavery. Sold or made to work in the quarries cutting stone for obelisks and statues for the likes of the wealthy pharaohs in Thebes.”
She didn’t glance at Tuthmosis, but I knew the barb was meant for him. She took Kyky out from under her wrap and placed her on her shoulder.
Tuthmosis glared after her as she marched down the alleyway. “You’ll only bring attention to us with that animal.”
“There’ll be more than monkeys in here to attract attention,” she said as she ducked through the doorway.
18
ENCOUNTERS
The rowdiness and noise of the room hit me as we entered. When my eyes got used to the gloom, I saw the area was full of soldiers. They were a rough-looking bunch, disheveled and unshaved. Serving girls moved swiftly among them carrying trays of sweetmeats and palm wine. They were dressed flamboyantly in bright wraps with swathes of beads around their necks and gold trinkets swinging from their ears, laughing and shouting and flirting as they moved about.
Tuthmosis pulled me back. “It’s too risky.”
Anoukhet laughed. “What? Are you scared?”
“I’m not scared. But the soldiers make it risky,” Tuthmosis snapped as he turned to go.
I touched his arm. “We can’t split up now. We’ve traveled so far together. We won’t stay long. We’ll have something to eat and drink and be off.” I glanced at Anoukhet. She was talking to a girl who was stroking the monkey and tickling her neck.
“What’s its name?”
“Kyky,” Anoukhet replied.
Tuthmosis tugged at my arm. “Come! We’re leaving!”
But at that moment two more girls sidled up on either side of us, obviously thinking of the money we might have to spend.
“I’m . . .” I couldn’t think what to say. “We’re hungry and thirsty! We’ve ridden through the desert.”
“Straight from the desert! But you’re not Medjay! Not with your foreign accents and fine manners,” one of the girls said.
She clicked her fingers at a girl passing by. “Bring some food and drink for these poor boys before they faint.”
I smiled and nodded. The palm wine ran down my throat like fire. I choked and spluttered. “I need water.”
“Poor baby! Too young for palm wine.” She tousled my head and laughed.
“Leave the boy alone!” Tuthmosis snapped.
She looked at him with flashing eyes. “Don’t come in here and order me about.”
Tuthmosis pulled her roughly aside. “I said, leave him be!”
“What’s it to you?” she demanded.
“He’s my younger brother!”
“Don’t think you can come in here in your smelly, filthy clothes and put on airs and graces far above yourself and then hand out orders as if you’re royalty.” And with her free arm, she swung back and punched him hard in the stomach. It was so unexpected that Tuthmosis crumpled forward.
A group of soldiers gathered about us—sunburned men with bloodshot eyes. But they were well muscled and despite the rough wraps wore sickle swords in their belts. I could see they were foot soldiers of the Egyptian army. They looked hardy and used to sleeping out in the open on rough terrain. Used to protecting themselves in all situations. Not men to be trifled with.
I shrank back but there was nowhere to go.
They formed a circle and eyed us. The room fell silent.
One, who stood a head taller than Tuthmosis, narrowed his eyes and turned to the serving girl. “Is he giving you trouble, Maya?” And without an answer he took a swipe at Tuthmosis’s head with his fist and felled him. There was a bloody gash on the prince’s temple, and as Tuthmosis staggered to get up, the soldier swung back his boot and kicked him hard in the stomach.
“Stop!” But before I could do anything, Anoukhet was at my side.
“Let’s go!” she hissed.
Between us, we dragged Tuthmosis upright and shouldered him toward the entrance, with Kyky jumping up and down and shrieking and the sneers and curses of the women as well as the soldiers at our backs.
We crept into a secluded side alley next to the marketplace. I held Tuthmosis’s head in my lap while Anoukhet went to fetch water from the river. He lay without moving like when we’d first met in the labyrinth. Except now it was entirely my fault. He’d been protecting me.
Anoukhet returned and wrung out a cloth in the water she’d carried in her goatskin. She laid it across his forehead while I bathed the blood from the wound. “They’ll come after us, won’t they?”
“I doubt it.”
“Why not?”
“I settled it. I gave the girl I was talking to a gift. She’ll protect us and see we’re not followed. She promised to distract them.”
“What did you give?”
“My hair.”
I squinted back at her. “Your hair? Why?”
“She’d guessed I was a girl. When I saw there was going to be trouble with the soldiers, I made her promise not to tell we were girls. In exchange I gave her my hair to sell for a wig. They won’t come after us.”
“She took more than your hair.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your silver bracelet with the animal charms is gone.”
For a moment Anoukhet looked startled as she glanced down at her empty wrist. Then she shrugged. “No matter! If I’m to be a boy, it’s better I don’t wear trinkets. But as soon as Tuthmosis recovers, we must move on.”
“Do you think his wounds are serious?”
“There’s more blood than true damage. The cut’s not deep but he’ll have a couple black eyes. The soldiers will recognize us.”
“It’s all my fault. He was protecting me.”
19
SERPENT OF THE DESERT
We slept in a doorwa
y that night huddled together among the debris of broken pieces of pottery, mud bricks, and chicken bones. But it was a restless night with soldiers brawling, Tuthmosis groaning, and Kyky screeching every time a dog came sniffling or a rat ran by.
The noise of Syene woke me long before dawn. Tuthmosis stirred and moaned and complained of a terrible headache. I went down to the river to fetch water to bathe his wounds.
The market was already busy even though it was hardly light. Girls still slow with sleep were setting out cucumbers and pomegranates and newly baked cakes on mats on the ground. Between them were jars of goats’ milk covered by pieces of goatskin still shaggy with hair. A sleepy-eyed child was sprinkling water to settle the dust.
But it was the presence of the army that caused most of the hubbub. Under awnings strung with lanterns, skin merchants were scraping fresh hides, cutting them, and stretching them over frames to make into shields. Ironmongers, already black and sweaty, were casting molten liquids into molds around their fires. An array of spearheads and arrowheads lay in the sand and the air was filled with the hollow chime of anvils tapping off rough iron edges.
Some soldiers were encamped at the water’s edge. In the pearly light, I scrutinized their faces to see if I recognized any of them. It was hard to tell. Going about their ordinary tasks, they seemed different from the brutes of the night before. Some were having their heads shaved. Others were sharpening swords. The smell of bread baking and the aroma of sizzling meat made me hungry. But I knew it was unsafe to linger, so I pulled my cloak about me, scooped water, and left as soon as I could.
“The camel’s gone,” Anoukhet announced as soon as I reached the doorway.
“Gone?”
“Stolen. One of us should’ve stayed awake to keep watch.” She took the water skin and began swabbing Tuthmosis’s face.
“You hated that miserable camel anyhow!” Tuthmosis squinted up at me through swollen eyes. He attempted to smile but ended up grimacing with pain.
With his hand still bandaged from Anoukhet’s bite and his face bruised and battered, he looked quite a sight.
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