Pharaoh

by Wilbur Smith

  They had managed to sustain their strength and energies only by resorting to the copious clay amphorae of red wine that were littered through the camp. The women had torn their clothing and scratched their faces until they bled. The men stamped the ground and beat their bare chests, vowing revenge and a hundred lives for every one of ours wiped out by the foe.

  Precisely on the Hour of the Wolf when the three stars of Inana reached their zenith in the sky above us I staggered out of the darkness into the bright light of the funeral fires, bearing in my arms what was patently the corpse of King Hurotas. Our clothing was tattered and caked with river mud that resembled exactly exhumed grave dirt. Only our faces were deathly white and our eyes were wide and staring as those of corpses who had passed through the gates of Hades.

  A sudden aching silence fell upon the multitudes who gazed upon us. They shrank away from us in horror, certain that we had returned from the infernal world. Desperately I sought out Tehuti and Serrena to reassure them and found them not far away clinging to each other between two of the funeral fires. They were both staring at us in awe. I opened my mouth to give them reassurance but I was by that time so far gone that the only sound I emitted was a dreadful graveyard groan. Then I collapsed to the ground with Hurotas on top of me. The next thing I was aware of was being clasped in the embrace of the two most beautiful women in existence, and smothered in their kisses and endearments.

  I had the vivid but fleeting notion that I had died and been admitted into Paradise.

  It took Hurotas only a few days to recover his wits. I still have a sovereign cure for head injuries that had been given to me by a black witch doctor beyond the great falls of the Nile when we had journeyed there with Queen Lostris all those many years ago when we were fleeing from the Hyksos.

  However, our campaign against Utteric had been thrown into confusion by the arrival of the mysterious scar-faced archer and his unicorns. We had no idea who he was and where Utteric had found him, but he dominated the western bank of the river. He effectively denied our troops access to it. No matter when or where we made our attempts to cross over and lay siege to Utteric’s fortress of Abu Naskos the archer and his unicorns confronted us. We were utterly overwhelmed by the arrows he showered upon us with such extraordinary accuracy. I managed to collect several of these projectiles that had struck our chariots and even some that had killed our men at long range. They were not much different in design or manufacture from those made by our own armourers. However, when shot from his bow they ranged almost twice the distance that ours did. I watched him shoot on a number of occasions and counted that he was able to get four or five arrows airborne at the same time. Very few of these missed their mark.

  Our men, even the bravest and the best of them, were becoming despondent. Some of the petty kings were muttering about abandoning the campaign and sailing back northward to their sordid little islands and their fat and ugly wives.

  Even I, the eternal optimist, was becoming desperate. I was experiencing unpleasant dreams in which Inana, my particular favourite goddess, had taken to mocking me. On the other hand she was definitely ignoring my prayers and supplications. The scar-faced adversary was clearly from another time and place and I desperately needed help and guidance from her. It seemed that she had taken up temporary residence on the four man-made islands in the Nile River before Abu Naskos, so I had to seek her there.

  Three nights later, after I had fully recovered from my latest ordeal, I waited for the rise of the moon before I went down through the sleeping camp, whispered to the sentries who were accustomed to my midnight perambulations, then slipped into the dark Nile waters and began to swim. I passed the black silhouettes of both Bird and Fish Islands without stopping and then the third island in the chain materialized out of the night. It was backlit by the panoply of the stars. This was unfamiliar territory for me. Although it looked identical to the first two islands from afar, I was not sure what to expect.

  When I swam close enough to touch the stone walls I found that they were indeed similar to the other two: sheer and high, extremely difficult to scale except by a skilled and intrepid rock climber. However, they gave me little pause and as I climbed I noticed that the erosion of time and the elements was not nearly as severe as on the other two islands. I was even able to discern the chisel marks of the ancient builders on some of the stone blocks. When I reached the top I found that it was paved with the same slabs. Of course these had been cracked and tumbled by the roots of the plants forcing their way through them. Similar to the first two, the top of the island was thickly covered by this dense vegetation.

  By this time the moon had risen above the horizon. It was a waxing half-moon with no cloud cover to obscure its light. I pushed my way through the dense undergrowth and when I reached the centre of the tower I was amazed to find that there were the remnants of an ancient staircase descending into the opening of a vertical shaft. It was in defiance of all logic that the ancients had built a shaft to reach the bottom of the river. Then I realized that there was probably not just one shaft but four of them, one in each island. I scrambled down the tumbled steps, risking breaking my neck if I lost my footing, but very soon I found my way blocked by the rubble and detritus that had accumulated over the ages.

  I searched for a continuation of the shaft but all I found was another line of ceramic tiles built into the wall. These depicted creatures which surely must have been intended to be otters. Fish, bird and otter tunnels, but none of them leading anywhere.

  I swore a bitter protest to the goddess Inana for treating me so shabbily and I kicked at the compacted rubbish that denied me access to the depths of the shaft. This was a foolhardy gesture. I thought I had broken my toe. I sat down hurriedly and nursed my injured foot in my lap. Fortunately, further examination proved my toe to be intact. I hauled myself to my feet and limped back up to the surface.

  ‘Did I hear somebody call my name?’

  I started guiltily as a familiar voice spoke close behind me. I turned to find the goddess perched on the lip of the shaft. She was as ever impossibly beautiful. Her features glowed in the moonlight with an interior radiance that exceeded that of the heavenly body in the sky above us. Her smile was more enchanting than it had ever been.

  ‘Forgive my impudence, Exalted One. I was remonstrating with myself, not with you.’ I would have made obeisance but my foot still throbbed painfully.

  ‘So have you changed your name to the same as mine, dearest Taita? I am flattered but not entirely convinced.’

  Her point was well taken, so I let it pass and changed the topic of our conversation. ‘Where does this tunnel lead to, Beloved of Zeus?’

  ‘To wherever your heart desires and deserves.’ She was still punishing me and I accepted it as justified. She changed the subject without pause: ‘But that seems to be the least of your present troubles, am I correct?’

  ‘To whom or what are you referring?’ I asked cautiously.

  ‘You do not even know his name,’ she mocked me sweetly. ‘How can you hope to prevail against him without even knowing who he is?’

  ‘I presume we are discussing Scar-face?’ I asked.

  ‘I know nobody by that name; neither good nor evil.’ She was being pedantic again.

  ‘But you do know a person with that particular affliction or distinguishing mark to his face, do you not?’

  ‘His name is Terramesh,’ she agreed. ‘He is the son of Hecate and Phontus.’

  ‘Everybody knows Hecate is the goddess of magic, ghosts and necromancy,’ I conceded. ‘But I do not know of anyone by the name of Phontus.’

  ‘Very few have heard of him, Taita,’ Inana explained to me. ‘He was a mortal who was amongst the first men on earth. He abducted Hecate and raped her. From the union she gave birth to Terramesh. Thus her son is a half-god and half-human. He is a divine but not a god. When he reached maturity Terramesh fought a duel with his father Phontus to punish him for how he treated his mother. They fought for a day and a
night, but eventually Terramesh slew his father. However, in return he received from Phontus what appeared to be a mortal injury to the left side of his head and face.’

  ‘If he received such an injury from his own father how then is he still here to bring me grief and hardship?’

  Inana inclined her head to acknowledge the legitimacy of my protest. ‘As Terramesh lay dying his mother Hecate came to him. She worked a spell on her son which drew him back from the threshold of death. Then Hecate decreed that her son Terramesh cannot die except by an identical wound to the right side of his face. Only the weapon that inflicted the original wound to the left side can be used to deliver this fatal blow.’

  ‘Where is that weapon?’ I asked eagerly. ‘Where can I find it?’

  ‘Hecate has protected her son extremely carefully. The weapon is hidden in a cave in the Amaroda Desert to the north of the River Tantica.’

  ‘I know that river. It is a tributary of Mother Nile. It is only three or four days’ travel from here,’ I exclaimed.

  ‘Ah! But the cave is concealed by a spell which Hecate herself placed upon it.’

  ‘Do you know how to break the spell?’

  ‘I know everything,’ she said solemnly. I blinked. Even I would hesitate to make such a sweeping statement; however, her credentials are at the very least equal to mine.

  ‘Perhaps you should tell me,’ I suggested.

  ‘Perhaps you should first assemble your helpers.’

  ‘Why do I need helpers?’ I protested.

  ‘Because Hecate stipulated that at least two divines must recite the spell in unison at the entrance to her cavern for it to open, and then they must identify the fatal weapon from amongst several hundred others that she buried in the same spot to further confuse the issue.’

  ‘Is that all?’ I heard the bitter irony in my own tone.

  ‘Not entirely. Only a king may wield the weapon against her son, Terramesh. He does not have to be a divine but he must utter a specific war cry as he strikes, otherwise the blow will be turned aside.’

  ‘I believe that I can find comrades of mine who meet all those criteria.’

  She nodded. ‘I have waited down the centuries for such a one as you. The number of innocents that Terramesh has slaughtered is legend. But now his time has come to die.’

  ‘I agree with you wholeheartedly. But before we part again I would like to discuss these islands in the river with you.’ I patted the tiles on which Inana was sitting. ‘Where do they lead to?’

  ‘Surely over the centuries since your birth you have learned a little patience?’ she chided me.

  ‘Not really,’ I replied but she had faded away, once again.

  It was a long swim back to the eastern bank of the Nile, but the time passed swiftly, for Inana had given me much to think about. When I reached the shore it was still dark. I did not even waste time drying myself, but ran directly to Rameses’ camp. The guards at the gates tried to restrain me from disturbing the royal slumbers, but I raised my hand to silence them.

  ‘Listen, you halfwits!’ They fell silent and we were able to hear the muted but ecstatic little cries issuing from the royal tent. ‘Now if that’s slumbering I wish somebody would teach me the art of it.’ Then I raised my voice: ‘Mighty Pharaoh, are you awake?’

  I was answered immediately by a feminine squeal: ‘Tata! Is that you? Rameses and I have just this moment finished. Where have you been? We missed you at the feast last night. Come in! Come in! I want to show you what Rameses has bought for me.’

  When I entered the royal bed tent they made room for me on the mattress. Serrena scolded me, ‘You are as cold as if you have been sleeping on the top of the Taygetus Mountains in the middle of winter.’ I was shivering from my swim and grateful for the camel-skin blankets the two of them piled on top of me.

  We chatted away happily for a while, and then I set about the delicate task of explaining to them how we were going to triumph over the scar-faced monster. I could not tell them, or anyone else for that matter, about my special relationship with the goddess Inana.

  In the tale I had prepared for them, Inana was a wise old woman who visited me from time to time. They listened avidly to my version of the story of Terramesh and how he could be defeated. I excluded only any reference to the divinity of Serrena herself, a fact of which she was still blissfully ignorant. By the time I had finished they were as eager as I was to set off to find the cave in the Amaroda Desert and to retrieve the fatal weapon that could slay Terramesh. It took the remainder of that day for us to make our arrangements for the journey.

  Fortunately the Amaroda Desert is situated on the eastern bank of the Nile so it was not necessary to cross the river again and run the risk of encountering Terramesh before we had made adequate preparations to deal with him. The three of us were all the force that was needed, with supplies for no more than ten days. Water would present no problem for us and our horses. We would be following firstly the Nile and then the Tantica River as far as the cavern. Of course I had to inform Hurotas and Hui of our expedition and of course they wanted to join us. However, I used all my powers of persuasion and pointed out that they would be performing essential duties by remaining with the main army; not least of all they would be maintaining order amongst the sixteen allied kings, who managed to be difficult even when they considered that they were being at their most cooperative. Some of them were already mumbling about abandoning our venture in the face of Terramesh’s arrows.

  So lightly burdened the three of us were able to move extremely swiftly. On the fourth afternoon after leaving the camp opposite the fortress of Abu Naskos we reached the headwaters of the Tantica River, which was the rendezvous that I had agreed with Inana. I left my two companions to set up camp and to feed and water the horses from the river while I wandered away downstream in search of Inana in whatever fanciful guise she had chosen for the occasion.

  I had not had an opportunity to bathe since leaving Abu Naskos so I did so now. I was sitting on a rock beside a pool in the river drying myself in the warm breeze waiting for Inana to put in an appearance. I had already accosted a large green frog, a small brown serpent and sundry other insects and wildlife without marked success. I was beginning to succumb to the desert stillness and to the fact that I had slept little since leaving the camp on the Nile.

  ‘We were discussing patience at our last meeting, or rather lack of it,’ she said suddenly and unexpectedly. ‘I am pleased to see you are making progress.’

  I started fully awake and looked about me. There was a small turtle floating in the pool close at hand. ‘I expected something less cold-blooded and scaly,’ I chided it in return.

  ‘And no doubt you expected me to have pretty feathers?’ she spoke again, but this time from behind me. I looked around quickly and there was a lovely little desert warbler sitting on the rock close to me. Her breast was creamy and sleek and her wings were a lovely auburn shade. She spread one of them and began to groom it with her beak.

  ‘That colour suits you splendidly, my dear,’ I told her.

  ‘I am so glad you like it,’ she trilled and I could not prevent myself from laughing.

  ‘You are beautiful, as always.’ I chuckled. ‘But if we are to be serious I prefer you in human guise.’

  ‘Then avert your eyes for a moment,’ she said and I obeyed by looking back at the turtle in the pool. ‘Now you may look again.’

  I turned towards her once more and she was the Inana I knew so well in all her splendour. She pirouetted once with her tresses and her skirts billowing out around her. Then she sank down beside me and hugged her knees to her chest.

  ‘Ask me a question,’ she invited me. ‘I know that’s what you are dying to do.’

  ‘Am I so obvious?’

  ‘I am very much afraid you are, poor Taita.’

  ‘Where is Hecate’s cavern from here?’

  ‘Look to the horizon straight ahead of you. What do you see?’

  ‘I see three conica
l hills on the skyline.’

  ‘At the foot of the middle one is the entrance to the cavern you seek.’

  ‘What is the password that will open the way?’

  ‘“Open mighty Janus of two faces!” repeated three times.’

  ‘That is logical and easy to remember.’ I nodded. ‘Janus is the god of doorways and gates.’

  ‘When will you leave?’

  ‘The horses are played out and so are we. My plan is to rest here tonight and leave early tomorrow morning, at first light,’ I replied.

  ‘I will wait for you at your destination,’ she promised and faded away like a lovely mirage.

  We left the Tantica River before sunrise the next morning and set off across the plain. At first we rode in company with many thousands of migrating gazelle. These graceful little animals danced across the desert with horns shaped like a lyre and facial patterns outlined in delicate brown scrolls. Serrena composed a song to their beauty. When she sang it to them they listened with ears pricked and big luminous dark eyes staring in astonishment. They must have been aware of her divinity for they allowed her to approach them so closely that she might almost have leaned from the saddle and touched one of them. They moved on en masse, and disappeared over the horizon as swiftly and as silently as the wispy puffs of dust raised by their elegant little hooves.

  As is so often the case with desert landscapes the three conical hills were much further off than they appeared to be. It was almost midday when we reined in the horses under the slope of the central hill and looked up at the peak. It was also higher than I had anticipated.