Warlock: A Novel of Ancient Egypt (Novels of Ancient Egypt)

by Wilbur Smith

  “And so have you.” Taita nodded. “We both know who she must be.”

  Their eyes went back to the filly grazing placidly beside the main irrigation channel, a little separated from Krus and the rest of the herd. Almost as though she knew they were speaking about her, she raised her head and stared back at them, with large shining eyes behind thick lashes.

  “She is beautiful,” Nefer murmured. “I would love to take her without having to put a rope on her.” Taita was silent, and after another minute Nefer said impulsively, “I am going to try.” He stood up and called to Meren. “Take the others out of the field. Leave only the bay filly.”

  When Nefer and the filly had the field to themselves, he left the fence, and moved casually in her direction, not going straight at her but strolling obliquely across her front. As soon as she showed the first sign of agitation he squatted down in the green grass and waited. She began feeding again, but all the while she was watching him from the corner of her eye. Nefer began to sing the monkey song softly, and she raised her head and looked at him again. He took out a dhurra cake from the pouch on his belt, and without standing up offered it to her. She flared her nostrils and snuffled loudly.

  “Come, my darling.”

  She took an uncertain step toward him, then stopped and threw up her head.

  “Sweetheart,” he crooned, “my lovely darling.”

  A step at a time she came in, then extended her neck to full stretch and sniffed noisily at the cake. Terrified by her own audacity she jerked back and galloped away, making a wide circuit of the field.

  “She moves like the wind,” Meren called.

  “Dov.” Nefer used the Bedouin word for the north wind, the soft cool wind of the winter season. “Dov, that is her name.”

  Having shown him her feminine capriciousness, Dov circled back flirtatiously and came to him from the other side. This time she accepted his offering readily and drooled saliva as she crunched it up. She ran her velvet muzzle over his open palm searching for crumbs, and when she found none she reached for his pouch and bumped it so demandingly that she knocked Nefer over backward. He scrambled up and fished out another cake.

  While she ate it he touched her neck with the other hand. As though flies were crawling over her, she made her dark mahogany-colored hide dance, but did not pull away. There was a tick in her ear-hole, and Nefer plucked it off, then crushed it between his fingernails and offered the bloody fragment for her to smell. She shuddered with disgust and rolled her eyes at the offensive odor, but allowed him to examine and fondle the other ear. When he left the field she followed him like a dog to the fence. Then she hung her head over the rail, and whickered after him.

  “I am consumed with jealousy.” Mintaka had watched the encounter from the temple roof. “Already she loves you almost as much as I do.”

  The next morning Nefer came down to the field alone. Taita and Meren were watching from the roof of the temple. This was something between Nefer and Dov. No others should interfere.

  Nefer whistled as he came down to the fence and Dov threw up her head and galloped across the field to meet him. As soon as she reached him she pushed her muzzle into his pouch.

  “You are a typical woman,” Nefer scolded her. “You are interested only in the gifts I bring you.”

  While she ate the cake he fondled and caressed her, until he could slip one arm around her neck. Then he walked her along the fence and back again, and she leaned her shoulder against him. He fed her one more cake and as she savored it he moved back along her left flank, stroking her and telling her how beautiful she was. Then in one smooth movement he swung up and straddled her back. She started under him and he braced himself for her first wild plunge, but she stood trembling with her legs slightly splayed. Then she turned her head and stared at him in such comical astonishment that he could not help laughing. “It’s all right, my sweetling. This is what you were born to.”

  She stamped her forefoot and snorted.

  “Come now,” he said. “Are you not going to try to throw me off? Let us get this question settled at once.” She reached back and sniffed his toe, as if she could not bring herself to believe the extraordinary solecism he had committed against her dignity. She shuddered and stamped her hoof again, but she stood firm.

  “Come then!” he said. “Let’s try a canter.” He touched her flanks with his heels and she jumped with surprise, then walked forward. They went down the fence sedately, and he touched her again. She broke into a trot, then a gentle canter. Meren was whooping and shouting from the temple roof, and the men and women working in the fields straightened up and watched with interest.

  “Now let’s see you really move.” Nefer slapped her lightly on the neck and urged her forward with a thrust of his hips. She stretched out and floated away, her dainty hoofs seeming barely to touch the earth, like the gentle wind for which she had been named. She ran so that the wind stung his eyes and the tears streamed over his temples and wet the dense tresses of his hair.

  Round and round the paddock they sped, while on the roof of the temple Mintaka clapped her hands and cried out with amazement.

  Beside her, Taita smiled distantly. “A royal pair,” he said. “They will be hard to catch on the Red Road.”

  The entire city had heard of the instant love affair between Pharaoh and his filly. Now the word spread rapidly through Gallala that Nefer was going to put the rope on Krus. Horsemen all, they knew that the colt would be a different proposition from the filly. They were in a ferment of excitement at the prospect of Nefer’s first attempt to break him in. Nobody went out into the fields that morning and all work in the vehicle shops and on the buildings was suspended. Even the training regiments were given a day’s holiday to watch the attempt. Thus, there was fierce competition for the best positions on the city walls and rooftops that overlooked the field below the fountain of Horus.

  Nefer and Meren went out through the gates to ironical cheers and ribald advice shouted down from the walls by the wags among the crowd. Krus was in the center of the herd. He stood out among the other animals, taller by a hand, and his head was distinguished. All the horses had sensed the mood of the watchers, and were skittish and nervous as the two men paused at the gate and hung the coils of flax ropes over the fence.

  “I will try him first with a cake,” Nefer said, and Meren laughed.

  “Look in his eye. I think he would eat you before the cake.”

  “Nevertheless, I will try. Wait here.”

  Nefer went through the gate, and moved in slowly as he had with Dov. Krus disliked this attention. He arched that long neck and rolled his eyes. Nefer stopped and let him settle down to graze again. He took a dhurra cake from his pouch and held it out, but when he moved forward Krus tossed his head, kicked his heels to the sky and galloped furiously away down the fence line. Nefer chuckled ruefully. “So much for my gifts. He will not make it easy.”

  “Look at him run,” Meren called. “Sweet Horus, if Dov is the north wind then this one is the khamsin.”

  Krus was running with the other horses now, leading them. Nefer and Meren went into the field together and between them worked the herd gently down to the corner of the fence of heavy poles. There they milled around nervously in the dust as the men came up. Then they broke the wrong way, galloping back to the top end of the field before Nefer could cut them off. Twice more Krus led them out of the trap, but then Nefer sent Meren to cut him off on the far side of the field and Krus made his first mistake. He came thundering back toward Nefer.

  Nefer shook out the loop on the end of the long flax rope he carried coiled over his shoulder, and waited for the colt to come through the narrow gap between him and the wooden slats of the fence. Nefer judged his moment and put the loop into flight, a spinning circle over his head, then as Krus galloped through with his neck stretched out, Nefer shot out the loop, which dropped neatly over his head and slipped back to the front of his shoulder. The coils of rope were whipped off Nefer’s shoulder, o
ne after the other, as Krus bore away. Nefer braced himself with legs spread wide, leaning back with the end of the rope wrapped half a dozen times around his wrist.

  The rope came up hard with the running colt at the other end, and Nefer was yanked off his feet, and hauled face down onto his belly. The colt felt the grab of the rope and the weight, panicked and bolted. Nefer was dragged after him like a sledge, bouncing and rolling at the rope’s end.

  The crowds on the rooftops and the walls exploded into hysterical mirth and cheers. Mintaka stuffed her fingers into her mouth to stop herself from screaming and Merykara covered her eyes and turned away. “I cannot watch!” she cried.

  The colt reached the fence at the end of the field and swung parallel to it. For a moment there was slack in the rope and Nefer used it to roll onto his feet. His belly and legs were grazed and covered with green grass stains, but the rope was tight around his wrist. It came up hard again and he was jerked forward brutally, but he kept on his feet. Using the impetus he went after Krus with long strides, dragged along on the rope’s end.

  After one circuit of the field Krus slowed to the heavy drag, and Nefer consolidated his gain by digging in the heels of his bronze-cleated sandals. Then as they slowed he swung himself out on the rope’s end, catching the colt by surprise. The animal stumbled at the changed direction of the pull, and as soon as he steadied Nefer swung himself the other way. Twice more Nefer was pulled down, but each time he fought his way to his feet again and put pressure on the colt.

  In the meantime Meren had opened the gate and driven the rest of the herd into the adjacent field, then he closed it so that man and horse had the empty field in which to fight it out.

  Nefer dug in for a foothold and swung the colt’s head toward the fence, forcing him to back up on the rope or crash into the heavy poles. He gathered up the slack in the rope, then raced forward. Before Krus could recover he had taken three turns of rope around the heavy corner post of the fence and pinned him. Krus reared and plunged, shaking his head and rolling his eyes until the whites showed.

  “I have you now,” Nefer gasped, and worked himself hand over hand down the rope toward him. Krus rose on his hind legs and struck out at the rope, whinnying shrilly. “Gently, gently. Will you kill us both?”

  Krus reared again and lifted Nefer off his feet. He came down foursquare and they confronted each other, the colt trembling wildly and sweating down his back and shoulders. Nefer was in no better case, the front of his body covered with scratches and grass burns, from which blood and pale lymph oozed. He, too, was running with sweat, and his face was contorted with the effort of holding down the colt.

  They both rested for a space, then Nefer started creeping hand over hand down the rope toward Krus again. He reached the horse’s head and flung one arm around his neck. Krus reared again and lifted Nefer high, but he kept his grip. Again and again Krus tried to break away, but Nefer hung on.

  At last the colt stood trembling, and before he could recover Nefer had thrown a loop of the rope around his back leg and pulled it tight. When Krus tried to bolt again his nose was almost touching his right flank and he could only turn in a tight circle. Nefer secured the knots in the rope, so that they would not slip and strangle Krus, then staggered back.

  He was so exhausted that he could barely keep his feet. Krus tried to run, but managed only to follow his nose in another tight circle. Round and round he went in a right-hand turn, slower and slower, until at last he stood confused and helpless, nose pointing at his rump.

  Nefer left him and dragged his battered body to the gate.

  The next morning the rooftops and walls were crowded once more with men and women, as Nefer made his way out of the gates and down to the field. He was trying not to limp. Despite the salves and unguents that Taita had mixed and that Mintaka had applied, his injuries had stiffened overnight. Krus was still standing in the same attitude in which Nefer had left him the previous evening, nose to tail.

  Nefer began to sing softly as he came through the gate into the field. Krus did not move but laid his ears flat on his neck and bared his teeth in a vicious grin.

  Nefer moved around him slowly, singing and whispering to him, and Krus fidgeted and tried to move away, but he was locked in that monotonous circle. Nefer seized the head rope and gently adjusted his knots so that they could be released and dropped with a single movement.

  Then he moved quietly down Krus’ left flank where he was hidden from the colt. He stroked his back and kept talking as he gathered himself. Then, in one easy movement, he swung up and straddled Krus’ back. The colt’s entire body convulsed, then froze with terror and outrage. He tried to run, but his head was held down. He made another uneasy circle. He tried to buck, but the rope jerked up hard around his neck. He stood again, but with his ears laid back.

  Nefer jerked the tag end of the slip-knot, first the one that secured his back leg and then the loop around his neck. The rope dropped away, and Krus lifted his head and arched his neck. For another moment nothing happened. Then he realized that he was free. Like a gull launching into flight, Krus seemed to rise straight up into the air on four stiff legs with his nose touching his front hoofs. He came down and jumped again spinning on his tail, switching from side to side. Nefer stuck to his back like a growth. Krus started to buck, kicking viciously at the sky with both back legs together. In a series of these wild running lunges he crossed from one side of the field to the other.

  Then he rose high on his back legs and flung himself over, crashing down on his own spine with a thud that carried clearly to the watchers on the walls, attempting to crush his rider between himself and the earth.

  Mintaka screamed, expecting to hear the crackle of breaking bone, but Nefer had jumped clear, landing like a cat, and crouched beside the colt as Krus lay on his back and thrashed his legs in the air.

  “Only a clever and warlike horse will try like that to kill a man,” Taita remarked, without emotion.

  Frustrated, Krus raised himself on his front legs, but before he could scramble back onto all four feet Nefer had vaulted firmly onto his back. The colt stood under him, trembling and shaking his head, then burst into a furious gallop. He tore across the field stretched in full stride, and aimed straight at the fence. Nefer lay stretched out on his neck and shouted at him, “Yes! As fast as you like!”

  Krus went at the high fence without a check, and Nefer shifted his weight to help him over. They rose together on a great wave of power, and sailed clear over the top bar, landing cleanly in balance.

  Nefer laughed with exhilaration, and urged him forward with a thrust of his hips. “Come on! Let’s see your best speed.”

  Krus went up the lower slopes of the bleak bare hills like a wild oryx, and disappeared over the skyline, headed out into the desert. The cheering and hubbub on the city walls died away, and a profound silence fell.

  “We must send someone after them,” Mintaka cried in the silence. “Nefer may be thrown. He could be lying out there in the wilderness with his back broken.”

  Taita shook his head. “It is between the two of them now. Nobody should intervene.”

  They waited on the walls and rooftops while the sun made its noon, then began to sink toward the horizon, but nobody left their position—they would not chance missing the climax of this trial of strength and nerve between man and beast.

  “They have killed each other,” Mintaka fretted. “That horse is a monster. If it has hurt Nefer I will have it destroyed,” she vowed furiously.

  Another hour passed, slowly as dripping honey, and then a stir ran along the top of the wall. Men jumped to their feet and stared up at the crest of the hills, and a murmur rose slowly to an excited chorus of shouts and laughter.

  On the skyline appeared a sorry pair. The colt’s head was hanging, and his coat was dark with sweat, limed with the salt that had dried upon him. His utter exhaustion was evident in every halting pace he took. On his back Nefer drooped wearily, and as Krus picked his way down the
slope they could see how Pharaoh’s body had been bruised and battered.

  Krus reached the foot of the hills. He was too far gone to jump the fence again, but he came submissively down the dusty road toward the city gates.

  Mintaka shouted, “Bak-her! Well done, Your Majesty!” and immediately the cry was taken up and flung from man to man until it echoed from the hills above the fountain of Osiris.

  “Bak-her! Bak-her!”

  Nefer straightened on the colt’s back and raised one fist high in a triumphant salute. The cheering redoubled.

  Below the walls he showed his mastery by putting Krus through a series of turns, first one way, then the other. Then he stopped him with a hand on his withers and made him back up. His commands were almost imperceptible, light pressure of his knees or a toe pressed behind Krus’ elbow, or subtle shifts of his weight, but the horse responded submissively.

  “I feared he had broken the colt’s spirit,” Taita told Mintaka, “but Krus is one of those rare creatures who needs firm treatment rather than kindness. Nefer had to establish his mastery and, Horus is my witness, I have never seen it done so swiftly and completely.”

  Nefer rode in through the city gates and waved up at Mintaka, then went down the long avenue to the cavalry lines. He tethered Krus and held the leather bucket for him to drink. Once the colt had slaked his thirst he washed off the dust and dried sweat with hot water, then took him out of the stable to roll in the sand lot. He filled his nosebag with crushed dhurra sweetened with honey, and while Krus ate greedily, Nefer rubbed him down, telling him how brave he was, how they would run the Red Road together, and Krus switched his ears back and forth as he listened to him.

  As the sun went down, Nefer spread the straw bedding thickly on the stable floor. Krus sniffed at it, nibbled a mouthful, then lowered himself wearily and stretched out upon his side. Nefer lay down in the straw beside him and pillowed his head on Krus’ neck. They fell asleep together, and Mintaka lay alone that night.