The Amarnan Kings, Book 4: Scarab - Ay

by Overton, Max

  "So where do you think she is now, sir?"

  Horemheb squatted and started tracing lines in the dirt. "Here's Sinai...the sand desert...Nakhtmin's forces here...and here. She was seen leaving the Shechite camp about here...she was seen twice...here and here. This is her last known position. See how she moves? First east of north, then north."

  Paramessu studied the roughly drawn map, gauging distances and angles. "You are certain of these sightings?"

  "One of them definitely...this one. A troop of Shu ran into her band and were slaughtered."

  "A whole troop? How many men has she got?"

  "About thirty, it seems."

  "And they beat a troop of regular soldiers? I know the Shu's aren't the best--any one of my legions could run circles round them, but...did she surprise them in the night or something?"

  "Details are sketchy," Horemheb replied, "But I gather it was in the daytime."

  Paramessu whistled appreciatively.

  "Don't sound too happy. Your job is to capture her alive before Nakhtmin can get to her."

  "What about her companions?"

  "I only want her."

  Paramessu left the village and rode his horse back toward his army as fast as he could, thinking hard the whole way. He turned over the problems involved, moving men around like pebbles in the dirt map in his mind, but could not devise a foolproof plan. I can do it, and my men are up to the task...but what if Nakhtmin catches us at it ? He shook his head. Civil war could lie down that path. Ay will demand we hand her over, but to do so would be the end of Horemheb's ambitions. Unless I kill Nakhtmin too ..."Then we have civil war for certain," he muttered.

  Paramessu arrived back at his camp and rode straight through to his command tent, yelling for his commanders to attend to him at once. He drained a cup of wine and dashed water over his head and torso, and was drying himself when Djedhor arrived, the others moments behind him.

  "What news, sir? Are the Amorites attacking?"

  "Djeserkare, have you sent those men out to stir up General Jebu yet?"

  "No sir, sorry sir. I was just about to organise that."

  "Good. Do not. How about your orders, Hednakht? Started on them yet?"

  Commander Hednakht nodded. "The first patrol left just before you arrived back. The others can be ready within the hour. I just need to tell them where to go."

  "Call them back--no...ignore that. Send them out as usual, but they are not to probe closely. Just keep an eye on them."

  "May I ask why, sir? What did Lord Horemheb say?"

  "He has a task for me and one legion. While I am gone, there is to be no trouble. Hednakht, I am leaving you in overall command this time. You are to contain the Amorites, but you are not to bring them to battle."

  Hednakht saluted but found it hard to contain his elation.

  Djedhor looked at his fellow commanders and frowned. "Even if he comes out of the mountains, sir? A legion leaving may be just the incentive he needs."

  "That is why I am taking the men but not the standards. Djedhor, I am taking the Heru legion but you will remain behind. I want you three to keep meeting on the knoll, send out the usual patrols and generally sit around as we have been doing these last few months. I don't want Jebu to know the odds have shortened for him."

  "How long will you be gone, sir?" Djeserkare asked.

  "And where? What if we have to contact you?" Hednakht added.

  "Not long." Paramessu smiled grimly. "And just make sure you don't need me."

  Paramessu took the Heru legion with him just on dusk. The men left their tents in place, their campfires burning, and their military kilts with the tiny embroidered falcon behind, wearing old clothes and as many water bottles as they could carry. The only thing they were allowed to bring from their tents was their weapons, but even here; the bright bronze blades were grimed and stained with wood ash and dirt.

  "You are bandits from now on," Paramessu explained. "Shortly, you will be splitting into groups, so your numbers will not look suspicious. I will explain what your duties are exactly when we get closer, but for now, know only that we pursue the one known as Scarab. And now--we run. Our destination is seven days march away and I mean to be there in three." He turned and sprang forward, the troop commanders and Leaders of Hundreds, Fifties, Tens and Fives urging their men into motion. Swiftly the night swallowed them but for a short time, the other legions could hear the sound of their passage as they sped east of south toward the sand desert.

  * * * * * * *

  "They're what? Are you certain?"

  "Yes sir." Amblax saluted again, unsure as to whether his commander's expostulation was anger or amazement. "I...I heard it from a Kemetu soldier who was there."

  Jebu stared hard at the man, recognising him as one of the men whose lives he had spared after the trials with the Tortoise and Prickle-pig. "Let me be certain I understand you. You say that despite the evidence of our eyes, the Heru legion has deserted its position in the ranks and run off into the wilderness?"

  "Yes sir...and no." Amblax swallowed and looked to his immediate superior, Murtu, for support. Murtu looked at him as a man might look at the muck between his toes after walking through the stables.

  "No? Explain yourself."

  "Yes sir. The Heru legion has left its place in the camp and gone to the south but they have not deserted. The...the general accompanies them."

  "Paramessu, you mean?" Amblax nodded. "How do you know all this? If you are making it up to impress me..."

  "Oh, no sir," Amblax cut in. "I have been down to the Kemetu camp. A soldier in the Re legion told me."

  Jebu glanced at Murtu, who raised an eyebrow and positioned himself behind Amblax, putting his hand to his dagger.

  "You leave our camp and go to the Kemetu positions where you talk to their soldiers. Did you have the permission of your commander? Were you there as an official scout? Are you one of our spies...or one of theirs? Speak swiftly for the thread of your life unravels."

  Amblax glanced round the hostile faces of the commanders and licked his lips, his face pale but determined. "I did not have permission, sir, but I can speak Kemetu well. My mother is from Gizer and I was raised near the garrison there. I...I thought I might hear something of interest if I went down there at the mealtime. I am not a spy, sir, for anybody. Just a loyal Amorite trying to live up to the chance you gave me, sir."

  "So you talked to a legionary? Who did he think you were? You do not look like a Kemetu."

  "He's lying, sir," Murtu said. "With a face like his, they'd cut his throat before he could explain himself."

  "I'm sorry, sir, but you are wrong," Amblax muttered. "There are many Kenaanites in the Kemetu legions. Mostly scouts but they are trusted. I gave out I was one of them."

  Jebu raised his hand to stop Murtu's anger spilling over. "You talked to a legionary. What did he say? Exactly."

  "He said General Paramessu had taken the Heru legion south. They travel light and fast and have left their commander and their standards behind. That is why their position in the line looks normal."

  "And did this legionary say why Paramessu had taken a legion south?"

  Amblax hesitated. "He said they sought a scarab, sir."

  "Scarab? What is a scarab?"

  "One of their gods," Assurpal said.

  "A scarab is a dung beetle," Bordalas said with a laugh. "Why would they go looking for a dung beetle? The soldier was joking. You cannot trust anything this man says."

  "He did say a scarab, sir...or possibly Scarab," Amblax said quickly. "It could be a person called Scarab."

  "The god?"

  "I don't think so, sir. There...there was talk of capturing him. You don't capture a...a god...sir."

  Jebu turned away and considered what Amblax had said. Do I believe him? It is an unlikely story, except...it explains that other report of a dust cloud at dusk, to the south. Why? Why would an experienced general split his army, giving away his advantage, and disappear into the desert? Who is th
is scarab? This Scarab? He must be important if he takes a whole legion with him, but why ? His lips moved as he thought, and now he shrugged for the audience that was his mind. Is it important to me? Should I take this opportunity to attack? I may never have a chance like this again. Or is it a ruse? Does Paramessu hope to lure me out and crush me when he returns with his legion at dawn ? Jebu turned back to his commanders and Amblax.

  "You have done well, and will be rewarded, soldier. You are dismissed."

  Amblax saluted and hurried away. Jebu watched him go. If it is not a ruse and I do not attack, I will have missed an excellent opportunity. King Aziru will have my balls. However, who is this Scarab and why is he so important ?

  "You are my commanders. What are your thoughts?"

  Murtu farted loudly. "That is what I think of him."

  Assurpal and Sihon laughed and moved aside, but Bordalas ignored them. "Assume he is right, General. You have a rare opportunity handed to you by the gods."

  "And if he is wrong?" Murtu broke in. "What then? You look a fool."

  "Assurpal?"

  "I don't know, General. He strikes me as an honest man but he could still be mistaken."

  "Sihon?"

  "Why don't we test it? Say we ran a strong patrol down to the Kemetu lines where the Heru legion is supposed to be. If they are still there, we'll be repulsed strongly by them; if not, we'll draw attention from the Re legion camped next to them."

  Jebu nodded. "Do it."

  An hour later, Sihon was back, sweaty but grinning. "We were attacked by Re soldiers, General. I'd say the Herus really have gone."

  "But will they return soon?" Assurpal asked.

  "If we move smartly, it won't matter if they do," Murtu said.

  "Do we attack?" Bordalas asked.

  "Amblax has been shown to be correct about the Heru legion leaving," Jebu said quietly. "What if he is also correct about this Scarab person? I'd like to know who he is, and why he is so important."

  "Does it really matter?" Murtu asked. "What is important to a Kemetu is not necessarily important to us. We should not lose sight of the fact that we have been handed a victory by Paramessu himself."

  Jebu smiled to himself and pushed a little harder. "A victory is by no means certain. With the Heru legion gone our numbers are about equal and, I'm sorry to say, the Kemetu soldiers are better trained than ours."

  "We have the element of surprise. For months we have been avoiding trouble so they will not expect our attack."

  "Except now they are under-strength."

  "But they cannot suspect we know," Murtu said triumphantly. "This is our chance to deal them a heavy blow, if not destroy them utterly."

  Jebu nodded silently, as if thinking, but delighted at his commander's reasoning. "How would you attack?"

  Murtu raised his eyebrows, surprised to be asked something so important. "Drive straight in at dawn, General. Hit them hard with everything we have."

  "Chariots?"

  "Not on that ground. If we can push them back onto the plains they might be of some use."

  Jebu looked at his other commanders. "What about the rest of you? Any ideas?"

  "Dawn is when we always attack," Bordalas said. "Let's be different, attack while it's still dark. Moonset is about three hours before dawn now. It'll be really dark then and the sentries will be tired."

  "Firepots," Sihon added. "Set fire to the tents and supplies. Create confusion."

  "Push through the empty ground where the Heru legion camped," Assurpal said. "Then swing round and take them at the rear."

  "Use archers," Arnu said.

  "That's no use," Murtu replied. "You won't be able to see your targets."

  "It doesn't matter; we know where they are camped. They can't shoot back because they won't know exactly where we are."

  Jebu nodded. "Good. I like all those ideas. Murtu and Bordalas, you will draw up a battle plan and submit it to me by midnight. We will go in at moonset tonight. All of you see to your units. Make sure the men are fed and rested and their equipment is in good order. Sihon, stay behind. I want to talk to you."

  Jebu waited until the others had left before talking to Sihon. "You will take a dozen light chariots--drivers and one archer apiece--and head south. Your orders are to catch up with and shadow the Heru legion. I want to know who this Scarab person is."

  "It won't be easy to watch them and stay out of sight, general. There's not much cover out there."

  "I don't care if they see you. That is why I am sending you with chariots--you can stay out of their way. Just make sure you see who this Scarab is and if possible, find out why he's so important."

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  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Djedhor strode through the darkened camp, between the empty tents, and past the small campfires already burning to embers because there was nobody to feed their hunger. He glowered at the emptiness to the south, imagining the men of the Heru legion--my legion --as they ran on into the night carrying out a mission so important the general himself was leading it. I should be with my men. Paramessu had no right to exclude me .

  Earlier that night he had supped with the other commanders, Hednakht and Djeserkare, but he had excused himself after a short time. The others felt his shame and though they said nothing, what they did not say preyed on his mind. He took himself to the empty lines at the far left of the Kemetu lines, where his legion had been given the important task of guarding the flank. Not that there is ever much to guard against. To attack this position, the Amorites would have to expose their whole flank to the other legions . Djedhore grimaced, knowing that Paramessu had made the right decision tactically, but hating it nonetheless. The Khent-abt is not experienced enough, and the Re holds the centre...but Set take the man, could he not have taken me with him instead of leaving me here to wonder how I have displeased him ?

  The waxing moon dipped toward the west, slipping behind a low cloudbank, the darkness of the night becoming more oppressive after the glow of light from the sky. Djedhor muttered a prayer to Khonsu of the moon as he picked his way through the deserted camp with care, the burnt down fires now only intermittent smudges of faint red against the black ground. He reached the far end of the camp, where the land heaved itself into a chaos of impenetrable ravines and gorges. No enemy could turn this flank as long as resolute men guarded the approaches to it.

  A faint whisper of thunder fluttered around him and Djedhor looked up into the starry body of the goddess Nut, searching for the flicker of light that heralded an approaching storm. The sky remained starlit yet the thunder came again, low and long, less like the great cry of Set than like the on-rush of rain. There are no clouds so where is the rain coming from ? He faced the mountains and heard the concussion of falling water draw closer...like the flurry of wings as a flock of ducks beat their way skyward when the hunter looses his arrow...like the stampede of the herd when a lion bursts through the stockade, like...like running feet. ..

  Djedhor opened his mouth to yell the alarm, but his cry died soundless in his throat as a dark wave of men burst out of the night, rushing past him on both sides. He dropped and rolled without thinking, seeking cover behind a flimsy tent, then behind a small rock when the tent collapsed as a man stumbled into it, cursing. The commander strained his eyes, watching aghast as the Amorite army ran past him, pouring through the Kemetu lines abandoned by his Heru legion. They know! The Amorites would not attempt this if they thought my men in position .

  Reasoning that the darkness hid him as well as it hid the enemy, Djedhor rose to his feet, knowing he must sound the alarm. The Amorite army was breaking out, escaping the trap set by Paramessu's legions. He collided with a running man and grunted as if apologising.

  "Get into position, you dolt," hissed the man before disappearing into the night.

  Djedhor's mind struggled with the unfamiliar language but he had heard enough to grasp the gist. Get into position? They are not breaking out, they mean to attack
us . He broke into a stumbling run, cutting across the now lessening flow of Amorites. Nobody tried to stop him but several snarled low curses or pushed him in the direction they thought he should follow. He ignored them and ran on, jinking and dodging in case anyone recognised him.

  "Amorites!" Djedhor screamed. "Awake, Khent-abt! Awake, men of Re! The enemy is upon us." Guttural shouts sounded in the night behind him, but no missiles followed and Djedhor found he was running between tents disgorging sleepy men and guards shouting and stoking the fires.

  A hand grabbed him and swung him round. Hednakht stared at his fellow commander in amazement. "Djedhor, what in fornication is going on? Why have you aroused the camp?"

  The Heru commander threw Hednakht's hand off and pointed back the way he had come. "Amorites. Hundreds of them. They are piercing our lines."

  Hednakht hesitated a moment, searching his companion's face in the flickering light from a camp fire, and then turned away to the soldiers starting to gather. "Arm yourselves, soldiers of Re. The enemy is here. Feed the fires, light torches. Stand to your units."

  The dazed men started forming up in their squads, their fifties, and Djedhor yelled in horror. "No, the other way. The Amorites are behind us now." Some of the men turned, but others remained facing the hills, throwing the slowly forming ranks into chaos. Light flared up as torches blazed. The officers screamed their orders and order began to be restored, though the men still faced in different directions.

  Over the shouts and the clash of bronze swords on leather shields came a high, thin, whipping sound as if reeds were being thrashed to and fro in the chill air. Men looked up, startled, and died as arrows plunged out of the darkness, invisible until they pierced flesh. Screaming started, with the despairing cries of the survivors. The living huddled together, facing an unseen enemy, crying for their officers to save them. No arrow could miss the crowded men and more fell, yelling and plucking at bloody wounds or lying silently, their spirits beckoned toward the underworld.

  "Douse the torches and fires," Djedhor yelled. "They can see us."

  Immediately, men rushed to stamp out the flames, throwing water and dirt over burning brands and a fitful darkness descended. Still the arrows fell with devastating effect as the Amorite archers no longer needed to see their targets--they had the range and exploited it. From the far end of the camp, where the Khent-abt legion was forming up, came different sounds--the thunder of running feet and the sudden roar as a wave of men struck stationary defenders.