Usually, boats travelling south simply hoisted a sail and were carried along by the prevailing wind. At the time of the inundation, however, the flow of the river was strong and erratic as it surged towards the sea. Teams of rowers had to work hard to keep the boats from being carried by the side currents and running aground on the submerged fields.
Because of the inundation, there were no trade boats sailing south, but boats full of soldiers were making their way to Kush to quash the Kushite rebels. Ramose got permission to travel on one of these boats.
It was a sturdy craft made of cedar wood, carrying a company of soldiers to defend the fortress town of Sai. The boat was crowded with new recruits who looked like they had all been chosen for the enormous size of their muscled arms and legs.
Ramose was glad to be sailing away from the palace. The oarsmen grunted with the strain of their work, but the landscape only slipped by slowly. It was going to take weeks to get to Kush. He wondered where Karoya was now. He wished he hadn’t spoken so harshly to her the last time he had seen her.
When Ramose had made his previous journey to Kush, he’d had Karoya as company. She didn’t like being on the river and she had chattered constantly to keep her mind off the deep waters surrounding her, telling him about her country and her people. Ramose had taught her to read and write Egyptian. She was a clever girl, eager to learn and by the time they’d reached Kush, she had mastered the skills. This journey would be different. The soldiers didn’t even glance in his direction, let alone talk to him.
The boat slowed as the first shift of rowers stopped to rest and another crew took over. The weary rowers all filed to the stern where they were given bread, fruit and beer. One soldier seemed to be particularly hungry. He was piling up more bread and figs after the others had all returned to their benches. Sweat was still glistening on his huge arms and legs. Sensing that someone was watching him, the soldier looked up at Ramose who was wedged between sacks of grain at the back of the boat. The soldier suddenly dropped his food and launched himself at Ramose. Ramose flinched, thinking that the huge soldier was about to attack him. Instead he found himself being swallowed up in a crushing hug.
“Don’t you talk to your old friends now that everyone knows you’re a prince?” asked the young soldier in a deep voice.
Ramose pulled himself away and peered at the smiling, sweaty face. It would have been an attractive face if not for the nose, which was pushed to one side as if it had once been broken.
“Hapu?” Ramose said. “Is that you?” Ramose couldn’t believe that this bulky soldier was his old friend. “You must have grown nearly a cubit! I though you were working at the Great Place.”
Hapu sat down beside Ramose.
“I finished my apprenticeship, but I didn’t get on with the painters. They’d all heard that I was a friend of Prince Ramose. I didn’t act any different, I know I didn’t, but they decided I was stuck up. They said I was too big for my sandals. When one of the generals came to the Great Place to conscript boys into the army, they put my name down.” Hapu shrugged his broad shoulders. “I didn’t really mind. I wasn’t happy there.”
“You look so different,” said Ramose, peering at Hapu and trying to find his skinny little friend in the muscled soldier with the deep voice sitting next to him. “I didn’t even recognise you.”
“It’s me,” said Hapu as he took an enormous mouthful of bread and thumped Ramose on the back. “Where are you going? Down to the palace at Pathyris?”
“Further than that. I’m going to Kush, just like you.”
“That’s good. We’ll have plenty of time together. It’s two hours before my next shift at the oars. Tell me everything that you’ve been doing since I saw you last.”
Ramose didn’t know where to begin. There was so much to tell. He’d had two years of adventures in foreign lands. He’d have plenty of time to tell Hapu about that later. Instead he started at the end of his story.
“I’d been looking forward to returning to the palace so much,” he told Hapu. “I enjoyed travelling the world, and I’d had some wonderful adventures, but I was ready to go home. Nothing turned out the way I thought it would, though.”
Ramose told Hapu how he’d imagined he would become Pharaoh’s chief adviser when he got home. He knew Tuthmosis looked up to his big brother and thought he would do anything he suggested. Ramose hadn’t counted on the ministers and the servants who never left him alone for a minute.
“In the time that I was home,” Ramose explained, “I only managed to talk to my brother in private twice—and both times we had to sneak away like thieves.”
“How is Pharaoh, may he have long life, health and prosperity?”
“He’s well enough, I suppose, but he’s not happy. It’s a lonely life for a boy his age.”
“And your sister?” asked Hapu tentatively.
“I was hoping that we’d be able to settle our differences,” Ramose sighed. “Without you and Karoya to keep me company, I needed a friend. I’d thought that Hatshepsut and I could be friends again, like we used to be.”
Ramose went quiet. Hapu let his friend tell him in his own time.
“That wasn’t the way it turned out though. Hatshepsut is even more cold and distant.” Ramose glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “I haven’t mentioned this to anyone in the palace, Hapu, but I think she wants to take control of Egypt herself.”
“That’s not possible!” exclaimed Hapu, spitting out breadcrumbs. “In all the history of Egypt, going back hundreds and hundreds of years, there’s never been a woman ruling the two lands. Either you’re going crazy or she is!”
“You haven’t heard anything yet,” said Ramose, lowering his voice. “She has a plan to get rid of me.”
Hapu looked worried. “You don’t mean…”
“No, she’s not trying to kill me. This is worse. She wants to marry me to a Naharini princess.”
“Marriage? You?” said Hapu, laughing out loud.
Some of the soldiers turned round to see what was going on.
“That’s what I said,” replied Ramose quietly. “Except I didn’t find it funny. She’s serious. And Vizier Wersu agreed with her.”
“So that’s why you’re running away from the palace,” said Hapu. “You don’t want to marry a barbarian princess.”
“I don’t want to marry anybody,” replied Ramose, “but there’s something else I haven’t told you. Something more worrying than any of that. I’ve been chattering on for an hour, moaning about my problems and I haven’t even told you about Karoya.”
As the Nile made its way towards Thebes from its mysterious beginnings in some unknown place far to the south, its course was disturbed in six different places. At these six points, known as the cataracts, the smooth stream of the river was suddenly turned into a confused jumble as it cascaded over rocks. The boat reached the first cataract in ten days. With the river swollen by floodwaters, the rocks were below the surface but they still created rapids. Every soldier on board had to man the oars, two or three to each oar. Even Ramose had to lend a hand.
The commander, a man much smaller than his troop of soldiers, shouted orders until he was hoarse, guiding the rowers through the treacherous waters.
Several times the boat was caught in strong side currents that threatened to overturn it, but the soldiers managed to force it back to the central stream.
Whenever Hapu wasn’t rowing, doing exercises or learning military strategies, he came and sat with Ramose.
“Are you sure that Karoya was kidnapped by Kashta?” Hapu asked.
“Of course. What else could have happened?” replied Ramose, thinking of his last angry words to Karoya.
“I don’t know,” said Hapu. “She probably didn’t like the formality of life in the palace.”
Ramose didn’t say anything.
“Perhaps she just needed to get back to the desert,” continued Hapu. “It must have been hard with her people at war with Egypt. Whoever she si
ded with she would have felt like a traitor.”
Ramose remained silent.
“But, you’re right, she wouldn’t have gone off to become a desert nomad without a word to you, would she?”
Ramose finally spoke. “There’s one thing I haven’t told you.”
Hapu looked at his friend. “What?”
“The last time I saw Karoya, we had an argument. At least, I was arguing. I didn’t give her a chance to say much at all.”
Ramose remembered his harsh words. “I was furious because Hatshepsut had set me up. I accused Karoya of siding with Hatshepsut.”
“She’d never do that.”
“I know. I was angry. I just took it out on her. That was the last time I saw her.”
“So you think she may have been running away from you?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible. I have to find out, to make sure she’s not in any danger.”
Ramose looked out over the expanse of water surrounding them.
“How long does your commander think it will be before we arrive in Kush?” he asked.
“He doesn’t expect to reach Sai for another three weeks at least.”
Just over a week later, they reached the fortress town of Buhen. They were now far from the safety of Thebes, deep within the newly conquered territories of Egypt. The occupants of Buhen lived in the shadow of a fort, built to protect the Egyptians who lived there and to remind anyone who thought about attacking the town of the strength of the conquerors. Instead of the usual simple wooden wharves where boats were tied up, there were large stone quays. The fort wasn’t only there to protect people. Buhen was also a storehouse where goods from Kush, collected as taxes, were stored ready to be sent north to Egypt. It also acted as a supply depot where food and equipment for Egyptian forts further up the Nile were stockpiled.
“I hope I have some time to look around after we’ve finished taking on supplies,” said Hapu excitedly. Although he had travelled more than the average Egyptian, this was the first large town that he had been to other than Thebes. Even though Buhen had been part of Egypt for a number of years, it still had the atmosphere of a foreign place.
Ramose was relieved to be off the boat. Glad to have a chance to stretch his legs. He was also keen to find out if anyone had seen Kashta and Karoya.
Beyond the quays was the fort. It was a massive building, as big as the palace in Thebes. The palace had been built to please the eye. Its walls were whitewashed, its shape elegant. The fort was made of plain unadorned mud bricks. Its huge walls formed a large, squat square and were punctured at regular intervals with rectangular holes, just large enough for a bowman to take aim through. The walls were topped with triangular-shaped battlements, which allowed lookouts and bowmen to look down over the surrounding country but still have some protection. They gave the fort a threatening look, as if it was topped by a row of sharp teeth.
“Look at the defences,” said Hapu, staring as they passed through a gateway in a high mound of rammed earth. They crossed a bridge over a trench twelve cubits deep and then stood in the shadow of a high mud brick wall. They passed through another gateway, but they still weren’t inside the fort.
“There’s another wall,” Hapu said, gaping at the massive inner wall. “It’s even higher. It must be twenty-five cubits high and ten cubits wide.”
Lookouts were walking around on top of the wall, armed with bows and spears. At each gate they were questioned by guards. Inside, there was a large area where the soldiers trained. Neat rows of low mud brick buildings were dwarfed by the towering walls. This was where the fort’s soldiers lived. There were also administrative buildings, storehouses, workshops and stables. The fort contained everything the garrison needed to survive if it was besieged. All the buildings were stark and plain. There were no carvings on the walls, no statues.
Hapu’s battalion had to collect supplies from the stores for their journey south.
“I’ll see you after we’ve finished,” Hapu said and ran off to join the other soldiers.
Ramose knew that Kashta would have passed through Buhen on his way to Kush. He hoped he might find out if Karoya had been with him.
The port administrator’s office was an unimposing building made of plain mud brick like everything else.
Inside a scribe was scribbling lists of goods arriving from the south.
“I’d like an audience with the administrator,” said Ramose.
“Have you been appointed a time to meet with him?” asked the scribe, without stopping writing.
“No. I’ve only just arrived from Thebes.”
“He will be able to see you in four days.”
“I won’t be here in four days,” said Ramose. “I’m here as Pharaoh’s representative,” Ramose held out his medallion, wishing he’d taken the time to get the missing jewels replaced and the inscription recarved.
“The administrator is not in Buhen. Even Pharaoh himself—may he have long life, health and prosperity—would not be able to get an audience with him.”
The scribe put down his pen with an impatient sigh. “Perhaps I can be of assistance.”
Ramose got the impression that the scribe wasn’t at all interested in assisting him.
“I’m looking for two people who passed through Buhen two weeks ago.”
“Hundreds of people pass through Buhen each week,” said the scribe irritably. “How can I be expected to remember two in particular?”
“These two are from Kush.”
“I certainly can’t be expected to remember two slaves.”
“They aren’t slaves. They would be travelling alone. One may have been travelling as Pharaoh’s Chief Envoy in Kush.”
“May have?” said the scribe suspiciously.
“She may not have shown her papers.”
“I’m sure I would have remembered two people from Kush travelling alone.”
Ramose made similar inquiries at the offices of the battalion commander and the storekeeper. The response was the same. When Ramose had asked everyone he could think of, he sat down in the shade of the huge walls.
“There you are,” said Hapu. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Did you have any luck?”
“No,” replied Ramose. “No one has seen them. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Well, there’s nothing more you can do. I’ve finished my duties. We have an hour before we have to report back to the boat. Let’s look around.”
“I’ve looked around already.”
“Do you think you could get us into the storehouse?”
“Haven’t you just been in the storehouses collecting supplies?”
“I don’t mean those storehouses. I mean the one full of foreign treasure and strange creatures,” said Hapu excitedly.
Ramose had other things on his mind, but he remembered his own excitement the first time he had been to Buhen. “My authority doesn’t seem to have impressed anyone so far, but I’ll see what I can do.”
Ramose showed the guards the papyrus which proclaimed that he was Superintendent of Foreign Lands and they were allowed to go into the storehouse. It was full of chests of gold rings, stacks of ebony and cedar, piles of elephant tusks. There were ostrich feathers and leopard skins all ready to be shipped to Thebes.
“These are the taxes that the people of Kush have to pay for the privilege of being defeated by Egypt,” said Ramose.
Behind the storehouses, there was an enclosure where live animals were kept: the baboons and leopards that Egyptians were so fond of.
Hapu stopped dead in his tracks.
“What’s that creature?” he said, staring up at a bizarre animal. “It’s as tall as an obelisk.”
He stared at the animal’s long neck, its spindly legs and its strange skin: yellow with irregular brown patches.
“It’s a giraffe,” said Ramose.
“What is it used for?” asked Hapu. “Is it good to eat?”
“It has no special use that I know of. The local people use th
e skin for making clothing.”
“So why is it being sent to Egypt?”
“Just as a curiosity,” replied Ramose. “Something to amuse the children of palace officials.”
Outside the storehouse an enterprising young man had set up a stall. He was selling trinkets from foreign lands: jewellery made of shells and animals’ teeth, little pouches made of animal skin. Ramose wouldn’t have even noticed the stall, but it was meant to attract people like Hapu who were travelling outside of Egypt for the first time.
“Look, Ramose,” he said. “There’s a pouch made of giraffe skin. I could keep my gold ring and copper in it.”
“You won’t have any gold or copper left if you waste it on trifles everywhere you go.”
Hapu wouldn’t be dissuaded though. He was like an excited child. He bought his giraffe skin pouch and the seller was trying hard to make him buy a necklace as well. Something on the stall suddenly caught Ramose’s eye. It was a bracelet. It didn’t come from the lands south of Egypt though. It came from Kadesh to Egypt’s north.
“Hapu,” he said, grabbing his friend’s arm. “Look at this bracelet.”
“It’s very pretty,” said Hapu, “but I don’t want a bracelet.”
“It’s Karoya’s,” said Ramose. “It was a present I bought for her.”
Ramose turned to the trinket seller.
“Where did you get this bracelet? Who sold it to you?”
The stallholder wouldn’t say anything until Ramose bought the bracelet. He paid a lot more than it was worth, which loosened the boy’s tongue. He remembered the girl who sold it. She was from Kush but well-dressed like an Egyptian.
Ramose hurried back to the boat eager to get on with the voyage.
“We still don’t know where she is,” said Hapu.
“No, but we know that she came this way.”
5
IN THE HANDS OF RA
Three days later, they reached the second cataract. The rapids there were even more treacherous than they had been at the first cataract. The waters of the inundation were so strong that year that huge boulders had been forced from their beds and washed downstream. The swollen river cascaded over the newly arranged rocks in an angry turmoil. There was nowhere for a boat to pass safely. The commander ordered the soldiers to row to the shore. They had no choice but to drag the big boat onto the muddy bank and then pull it on a sled over land until they were past the treacherous cataract.
Wrath of Ra Page 4