by Overton, Max
"Why go there? Ah, yes, my sister always embraced the Khabiru. Perhaps she thought she might find a sympathetic ear among them."
"It appears she did, for she stayed there a few months."
"They will be punished for that."
"Yes my lord...but they are a close-mouthed lot. It will be hard to find the ones who sheltered her. You will either have to punish several thousand or..."
"Or what? Your eyes are gleaming, Nakhtmin. What scheme have you devised?"
Nakhtmin looked around at the courtiers who had followed them out of the temple, at the injured men, the physicians, and a handful of priests. "I will tell you later, my lord king, when I have had a chance to think on it some more."
Ay grunted in annoyance. "If you must. Continue with your tale then. Where did Scarab go next?"
"She went to see General Paramessu."
"Why?"
"I do not know. She entered the camp and was turned away but later she went to his tent and they spoke..." Nakhtmin grinned. "...or did other things for an hour."
Ay thought about this and frowned. "Must I suspect General Paramessu of disloyalty then?"
"I believe not. It is known that they had a dalliance seven or eight years ago and there is even a suspicion she had a child."
"Gods--that would be a disaster. Did she have one?"
"I can find no evidence of one. It is possible that she had a stillbirth but a month or so after the likely date she joined her brother Smenkhkare outside Waset and there was no trace of a child then. No mother would leave her new-born baby, so I can only think she lost it."
"Did not Paramessu marry some time ago?"
"His wife and son died a long time ago, but about eight years ago, not long after Scarab left him, he remarried. To a Lady Tia of the family of Amenakht. They have a son being raised in Judge Seti's house in Zarw."
"And why do you think Scarab went to Paramessu two years ago? What did she hope to gain?"
"She may have hoped that given their past connection, he would help her against you. If that was her hope, it was dashed. Paramessu has too much to lose and a bit of pink, no matter how sweet, would not be worth the risk. He rejected her and even, I'm told, threatened her life if she ever bothered him again."
"And where is she now?"
"That is harder to say. She spent some time at the temple of Auset in Iunu, apparently studying to become a priestess. She has been seen near there from time to time but mostly she wanders the desert, living with various tribes. They say she performs miracles."
"Your spy network cannot find her?"
Nakhtmin hesitated. "No, my lord," he said reluctantly. "She is like a desert whirlwind--obvious from a distance but when you get close your vision is obscured by flying sand and dust. The tribes respect her, almost worship her, but not as a member of the royal family. That aspect is virtually unknown. They are very tight-lipped with strangers."
"So you really know nothing about her? Just stories told by ignorant tribesmen?"
"Not entirely. That was the piece of news that came to me today. Until now, I knew of a damaged Scarab who survived the desert and saw Paramessu before going to Iunu, and of a mystic woman of the tribes, but was not able to connect them. Now I know they are the same."
"What was this news, this sudden revelation?"
Nakhtmin eyed the people close to them, noting that many were within earshot though they all pretended not to be. He applied a slight pressure to his father's arm, not enough that he might be seen to be forcing the king, but enough that Ay would be aware of the pressure. "If you will come with me, father, out of the earshot of possible spies," he said softly, "I will tell you everything."
Ay acquiesced, though he made it appear to observers that it was his initiative. "The sun is hot and I thirst," he said loudly. "Let us take some refreshment."
The senior priests of Heru led the king and his Tjaty into a private room in the High Priest's house where a colonnaded balcony overlooked the Great River. Servants brought them cooled citron drinks and choice meats and fruit. Ay waited until the servants had all withdrawn before asking Nakhtmin to continue.
"I have a man in my employ," Nakhtmin said. "A Shechite, a man of the desert from the Peninsula of Sin. Although he had left his tribe and lived in Kemet for much of his life, he remembered enough of his tribe's customs to rejoin it when he heard that this wild prophet was with the Shechites. He lived close to her and his report makes interesting reading. She is a red-headed woman with her right eye missing and she talks with a Waset accent."
"Red hair? Khabiru?"
"Yes, at least in part, and raised in Waset like the Lady Beketaten. Of greater interest is the missing right eye. You may recall that when Mentopher tortured her, he burst her right eye and almost killed her. Now I have no idea how she survived the desert with injuries like that, but the coincidence is interesting. The tribes liken this woman to Heru who fought with Set and lost his right eye."
"As if I care what savages think," Ay grumbled. "Nor do I care about how she survived, just that she did. Now we must try to kill her again."
"The loss of the right eye is significant," Nakhtmin went on. "In legend, Djehuti restored Heru's eye and here the likeness truly becomes remarkable. It is said that the god Geb restored Scarab's eye."
"Oh come now, you are not saying a burst eye has been cured...are you? No physician in Kemet could do that, and I have never heard of a god doing anything like that either, except in legend."
"Not cured, my lord, but replaced. My spy has seen it and it filled him with fear. He says it is a great stone eye and that it gleams golden and brown like that of a lion. What is more, the tribes claim the eye gives her powers, unnatural powers."
"Rank superstition."
"Perhaps, my lord, but my spy sounds almost convinced. He claims to have seen things that speak of the finger of the gods--things that could not occur naturally."
"You said he was a Shechite. No doubt, he is as ignorant as the rest of them, fooled by some slick mountebank with tricks any priest can perform. What did she do, throw down her staff and have it turn into a snake?"
Nakhtmin frowned. "I do not hire fools, my lord. This man has studied as a scribe. Moreover, it was nothing so simple. He says she can command the wind, having raised a storm to confuse marauding bandits. On another occasion, she brought water out from a rock when the tribe arrived at a dry well. The water was pure and cold and was sufficient to supply everyone."
"A storm blew up out of nowhere as storms sometimes do and she claimed it. A hidden spring known only to her." Ay laughed. "Believe me, Nakhtmin, if this woman is indeed Scarab, she has no magic powers, only guile and deceit. I remember her as a puling brat in the palace of Waset and a busybody on her brother's Council. She is no wonder worker."
"Perhaps you are right, father..."
"I am."
"...but the tribes believe she has power. I think she might be trying to raise an army against us."
"Of desert tribesmen? One of the northern legions could smash any uprising."
"Very likely, my lord, but I don't think we should let it come to that. I think we should hunt her down and kill her."
"I am still reluctant to order her death directly. She was anointed king by my traitor brother, even if falsely."
"Then order her capture. I will make sure my men understand what they must do, even if it is against the express orders of their king and their Tjaty."
Ay smiled and nodded. "Do so then."
* * * * *
Nebhotep looked at Khu as the king left with the priests. He raised a finger to his lips and bent over one of the injured men, checking on the placement of the poultice before binding the broken bone in the man's arm. Khu packed up the roll of instruments and ointments and stood, brushing down his kilt. He had difficulty remaining silent, but he knew from experience that the physician would not be hurried, no matter how exciting the news.
When he was certain the injured men were as comfortabl
e as he could make them, Nebhotep called over the priests of the temple and explained the course of treatment. He produced a list of ingredients and recipes for concocting the ointments necessary for the wounds to heal.
"What about prayers?" asked one of the priests, "The gods heal, not men."
Nebhotep sighed gently. "I am only a humble physician. You, as priests, will know more about that aspect of healing. Recite what prayers you will, but use my ointments at the same time."
"It will be done. It is in the hands of the gods now."
Nebhotep bowed and left the priests to their ministrations. He led Khu out of the temple precincts and down toward the river, signalling him to silence whenever he opened his mouth. At last, when they were quite alone, they sat on a grassy bank on the edge of a drainage ditch. "Now, lad, what did you want to say?"
"You heard him," Khu said excitedly. "She's alive. She has been seen. We have to go to her."
Nebhotep nodded. "Agreed, but where? She seems to be leading a life that avoids routine."
"I suppose we could search out the Shechites. Do you believe those things he was saying? About her having powers? Fancy being able to raise a storm and find water and...and who knows what else."
"Calm down lad. You have known Scarab since she was a girl. She is the same person inside despite being an anointed king. Maybe the hands of the gods lie heavy on her and act through her to produce wonders, or maybe there is a simpler explanation. We will know more when we find her...if we find her."
"What do you mean--if? We're going to look, aren't we?"
"Of course, but what I meant was, will we be able to find her?"
Khu frowned. "She's with the Shechites."
"And where are they?"
"Nakhtmin said in the desert of Sin. How many tribes can there be? All we have to do is go there and ask people."
"That's a good way of getting your throat slit. Besides, do you know how large this Sin is?" Khu shook his head so Nebhotep kneeled and sketched out some strange shapes in the earth of the ditch with his forefinger. "This is the Great Sea, and here is the Long Sea that looks red sometimes. This squiggle is the Great River..." He stabbed his finger down twice. "...here is Waset, and here Men-nefer. This area here is the land of Sin. It has mountains to the south and deserts to the north. It is at least this long..." Nebhotep drew in a triangle almost as far down as Waset. "...and about as wide. That is a huge area, lad. You could walk for years and not find her."
"So we are just going to give up?"
"Did I say that? There is another way. Nakhtmin also said that Scarab trained as a priestess of Auset at Iunu and returned there sometimes. I think if we waited long enough, she would come to us."
"Then what are we waiting for?"
Nebhotep smiled. "I don't know about you, but I'd like to be paid first for our work here. We have to restock our supplies if we are to ply our trade in Iunu."
"But we could miss her. Let us forget about our wages, they will be small enough in any case. We've got a bit saved; we can just wait in Iunu without having to work."
"I think we would attract notice. Don't forget that if Nakhtmin's spies found Scarab at Iunu, they could easily find two men who were obviously waiting for someone. No, we go as physicians and we doctor the good people of Iunu while we wait."
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Chapter Nineteen
King Aziru had kept his word to Jebu, which was unusual in a king, and more so because the promise had been made in private. Another man would have repudiated the promises, particularly when they started to cost his treasury real gold. However, Aziru had been persuaded to regard the long term rewards of this new policy and confidently expected to plunder the Kemetu treasury within the foreseeable future.
The Amorite army had been turned over to one-handed general Jebu and although he was followed everywhere by Aziru's nephew, Bilzir-Hadad, he had immediately set about reforming the troops. That had been two years ago, two years in which he had daily expected the king to shut his operation down, to lose patience with the slow modification of the army. Jebu's erstwhile lieutenant, Ephras, had inherited overall command when Jebu went missing after the battle with the Kemetu and lost his right hand. Despite being close to Jebu, Ephras lacked the imagination to be a good commander and in a year, had suffered repeated small losses in battle and thoroughly destroyed the morale of his own troops. By the time Jebu arrived back, with Aziru's gold and Aziru's nephew, the losses in battle had ceased for the sole reason that he no longer had the strength to engage the enemy. Losses by desertion were far greater than previous losses by enemy action.
Jebu took command of the army and cleaned house immediately. Ephras he put to death. The man had been a common brigand like Jebu and a friend, but had no family who might seek revenge for his death. Jebu was tempted to spare him for old times' sake, but thought that if he did it might look as if he condoned incompetence. However, he did the gentlemanly thing and refrained from executing him like a common criminal, contenting himself with having him run through with a sword in his own tent. Jebu gave out that Ephras had killed himself from shame at his failure, and honoured his memory with a lavish funeral.
The senior officers also died, though their shame was more public. Jebu would have no one close to him who knew of his previous status and how he had fallen. He spoke to the assembled troops and had them select replacement officers from among their own ranks. This worked well, on the whole, as the men were reluctant to vote bullies or incompetents into positions of power over them. So men who had earned the respect of others became the new officers.
The Amorite army was like many other armies of the smaller nations. They were poorly equipped, poorly paid and poorly trained. Jebu set about correcting this. He had commanded a large army in the old days, but it had proved no match for the armies of Kemetu. Those southern soldiers were equipped out of the state coffers, were paid on time and relatively well, and were for the most part, trained in weapons handling and drilled to move as a cohesive unit. These tactics did not always work, of course, as soldiers were only human, but Jebu thought he could see possibilities in the method.
Aziru's gold was limited, so he could not afford a large army anyway. Jebu calculated that a smaller force who knew what they were doing and could handle themselves well, could overcome a much larger body of men. He drew up plans and had special equipment made, enough for twenty men. When all was ready he detailed forty men and had them issued with staves. Half wore red armbands and half wore white. Jebu marched them into the desert away from the sight of his army and had the senior officers accompany him. A cloth-covered wagon drawn by mules accompanied them. When they reached their destination, he separated out the red and white arm-banded men and led the officers aside.
"Imagine those two groups of men to be the Amorite and Kemetu armies. Red for Amorite, white for Kemetu. Traditionally, when we have fought, our armies have about the same strength and have similar armaments. Yes, Bordalas?"
The officer who had raised his hand looked puzzled. "Neither we nor the Kemetu fight with staves."
"That is true, but I do not want to risk men killing each other today. Now, I have told these men in our two armies to fight well, with the promise of extra wine for the best of them. First, we will have them fight as our armies normally fight. Assurpal, I asked you to bring a trumpet. Signal 'Engage the Enemy'."
The trumpet notes rang out and immediately the two groups of men let out a cheer and rushed toward each other, staves at the ready. Weapons rose and fell and the clack of wood and cries of the men as staff met flesh carried plainly to the watching officers. Jebu let them fight, counting out a measure of time. "Sound 'Disengagement'," he said. The notes rang out but this time they were noticeably slower to respond and Assurpal had to blow the signal again before they parted.
"Good, they are displaying enthusiasm. Now we shall try something different." Jebu signaled and the 'Amorite' group ran across to the covered wagon and started
hauling things off it. The officers stared and a few of them uttered disbelieving comments.
"Shields?" Bordalas asked, disdain in his voice. "And look at the size of them. Nobody could carry those into battle, not if you expected them to fight too."
"Well, we shall see. I have explained tactics to the Amorite group already. Let us see how they do. Assurpal, your trumpet again please."
This time, as the signal sounded, the red-banded men swiftly formed up into ranks five across and four deep. The front rank held their large shields to the fore, rim almost touching rim. The three middle men in the second rank held their shields above their heads but sideways to cover the whole of the front rank while the outer men held their shields to the side covering the flanks of the formation. The staves of the front two ranks poked out between the shields toward the white-banded 'Kemetu' enemy.
The opposition had stood uncertainly, watching the shielded men form into ranks, but now they uttered their war cries and hurled themselves forward in their usual loose formation. Their staves crashed down on leather-clad shields without effect or slammed impotently against the front rank, while the staves of the defenders probed and jabbed, causing injuries. After a few moments, the formation started forward, driving the attackers back. Their movements were not completely coordinated, leaving gaps between the shields that some of the quicker-witted 'Kemetu' attacked, but overall, the formation beat back the attack and followed, leaving many injuries in its wake. The 'Disengagement' sounded and the red-banded 'Amorites' threw down their leather shields and raised a great shout of victory.
Jebu turned to his officers. "Comments?" he asked.
"It'll never work," Bordalas said.
"You've just seen it work," Jebu pointed out.
"With a tiny group armed with sticks. In a proper battlefield situation it would be too cumbersome." Two or three of the other officers nodded their agreement.
"Anyone else?" Jebu looked around at carefully blank faces. "I want advice," he said softly. "There is no penalty here for honest dissension. If you see a flaw, tell me. If you see a way it can be improved, let me know."