by Overton, Max
"It shall be done, Prince Nakhtmin. I will send word when all is ready and we can exchange your gold for the woman. I give you the man now as a token of good faith."
Nakhtmin nodded and got to his feet. He ignored Paramessu and gathered his followers, signalling them to bring Nebhotep.
The physician, bound and helpless, was supported by two guards and hustled along at the rear of the column. He saw Marak staring in horror and, as he passed, gabbled a few hurried words in the Shechite dialect, knowing none of the Kemetu would understand. "She says to free the lad." His words earned him a blow to the head from one of the guards, and he was hurried along, now dazed and in pain.
Nakhtmin had him brought, still bound, to his rooms in the western palace, while he sent the majority of his men down to the harbour to collect the heavy cedar chests of gold from the treasury. He poured himself a cup of wine and regarded Nebhotep avidly, in a good humour after the morning's success.
"Where have you been hiding, physician? The last I knew of you was in Waset some four years ago."
"Just plying my trade. A physician is always needed."
Nakhtmin's smile slipped. "You will address me as 'Lord Nakhtmin' or 'my lord'."
Nebhotep smiled gently. "You are the adopted son of a traitor who should have been retired or imprisoned years ago. If your actions were lordly I would have no difficulty showing you respect, but as it is..." He shrugged as much as his bonds allowed.
Nakhtmin snarled and stepped forward, striking Nebhotep with his fist. The physician reeled back, unable to regain his balance with his arms bound to his sides, and fell against the wall. He struggled upright and felt at his bleeding lip with his tongue.
"You will be civil," Nakhtmin said coldly, "Or I will bring in my men and have you tortured. You are under sentence of death already, but you may gain a little more life if you cooperate. If you are very forthcoming, I may even spare your life. Now, how did you know Lady Beketaten was in Gubla?"
Nebhotep spat some blood onto the floor. "I followed her from Taanach, and before that from the south, in Sinai."
"Alone?"
"It is never wise to travel these roads alone. I found men traveling in my direction."
"What was your purpose here today?"
"Just to talk to her, tell her I was here."
"What did you say? I have not heard that tongue before."
"Just that I was here. It is a Nubian dialect."
"Ah, yes. You were with the rebel army."
"I had the honour of serving the true king..." He broke off as another blow from the crown prince slammed him back against the wall. This time, he fell, landing awkwardly on his right side.
"I will not warn you again, physician." Nakhtmin bent over his prisoner and hauled him to his feet. "Were you planning to help her escape?"
"By myself? The best I could hope for was to follow and take my opportunity if it arose."
Nakhtmin laughed. "A faithful servant indeed. Well, I will not disappoint you. You will follow her into death when we reach Kemet. I had just meant to kill her as soon as I got my hands on her, but I think instead I will have you tried for treason and made an example of after Lady Beketaten is executed."
Nebhotep lifted an eyebrow in surprise. "You would dare?" His captor raised his fist again and he hurried on. "Scarab has been anointed."
"You still believe that fiction?"
"No fiction. I was there. I saw it."
"What you saw was a sham, a meaningless ceremony conducted by a priest whom the god Amun had forsaken. She is no more a king of Kemet than is my sandal."
"I do not believe you, for if she was truly forsaken by the gods they would not speak through her. I have seen her miracles."
"Ah, yes, we come to the gullibility of the Amorites. They tell stories of how if someone attacks her or tries to hit her, that man's actions are turned back upon him, often with fatal results. Have you heard those stories, physician?"
"I have seen them," Nebhotep said proudly. "You would do well to be very afraid."
"Why should I be afraid of her?"
"Because she has sworn to kill you and your father..." Nebhotep's gaze flicked to Nakhtmin's fist but the prince remained unmoving. "...You have no defence against her."
Nakhtmin smiled. "Would it then surprise you to know that last night I struck her and knocked her to the floor? No bolt of lightning blazed from the heavens in righteous indignation, nor did she defend herself in any way. This so-called gift of the gods is nothing but a myth." When Nebhotep kept silent, the prince continued. "Lady Beketaten will be executed in Kemet in front of the assembled nobles as an object lesson, but before then I shall enjoy myself immensely at her expense. I shall enjoy devising ways to bring pain and utter humiliation on the bitch."
* * * * *
"You are sure that is what he said?"
"Of course," Marak said again. "He said it in Shechite no further than I am from you now. 'She says to free the lad.' Just that."
Jesua bit his lip. "Nothing about her? Or even his own rescue?"
"No."
"It doesn't make sense. She is far more important than any one of us. How is she going to get free if we don't do it?"
"Perhaps she has confidence in her own abilities," Terrik interjected. "Perhaps we should too. Does any man doubt the power of the gods is with her?"
Men shook their heads or muttered negatively.
"Well then," Terrik went on. "We put our trust in the 'Eye of Geb' and carry out her command to us. We rescue Khu from his Amorite captors."
Return to Contents
* * *
Chapter Thirty-Six
Horemheb's headquarters in the fort of Khonsu, half a day's march north and east of Zarw, was in an uproar. His aide, General Paramessu, had arrived from the city only minutes before, having disembarked from the Sea People's vessel earlier the previous day and riding through the night with a coterie of trusted officers. They disturbed Lord Horemheb as he conducted the dawn offering to Re and his titular deity Heru. He took one look at their faces and hurriedly turned over the service to one of the legion commanders and took Paramessu into his quarters. Moments later, his bellow of rage drowned out the hymn of greeting.
"By all the gods, Paramessu, you realise what this means? Even now, Nakhtmin is close to reporting back to Ay. Scarab is dead and Ay will order my execution for treason - yours too, so don't look smug. You landed us right in the dog shit by promising things only a king can give. I now have to make the decision that could rip Kemet apart. Civil war, Paramessu, civil war! To think I prosecuted Ay seventeen years ago for daring to rebel against the lawful king, and now here am I contemplating the same thing."
Paramessu let his commander rant, knowing that the idea of rebellion had never been far from his mind since the day Ay had snatched the throne from under his nose. In a few minutes, he would calm down and they could start planning. Horemheb paused to draw breath and Paramessu leapt into the gap.
"My lord, you overstate the case."
"I suppose I must now...what?" Horemheb stared at his aide and took a few deep breaths. "Go on."
"We are not yet on the brink of war, my lord. I used some of the gold I had to pay the crew for a fast passage home. We passed Nakhtmin's naval vessel a day out of Gubla and she was out of sight behind us by sunset. I estimate they are at least three days behind us, more by the time he gets to Waset." Paramessu slowed his speech now that he had Horemheb's attention. "Also, Scarab may not be dead. You remember the physician Nebhotep? The one who was a Councillor of Smenkhkare? He turned up at the auction and was recognised. Nakhtmin has him and I heard it is his intention to execute both of them on Kemetu soil, in front of his father. That gives us ten to fifteen days by the time they get upriver even with a favourable wind..."
"Except Ay is coming to meet him. He will be in Men-nefer within days."
Paramessu frowned. "That tightens things somewhat. All right, never mind, we can still do this, my lord. Mobilise the legions. Y
ou have four decent front-line ones up here and three others that can be used for support. Ay has the Amun legion and maybe four others that have never seen real action..."
"I can't strip the northern army and leave Kemet defenceless."
"Why not? Amurru believes there is a non-hostility treaty in place. They won't...well, shouldn't...attack."
Horemheb grunted. "And how many men will remain loyal when they hear we face the king?"
"The commanders will, sir. They are totally loyal to you."
"Perhaps, but we need the men as well. You think Scarab still lives?"
"I am not certain, but I think it likely. For another five days, at least."
"She is more important than ever. My marriage to the family of Nebmaetre would satisfy any man who doubted my claim to the throne."
"Then I must try again."
"Yes. And Nakhtmin must also be removed."
"He'll fall with his father when we move against them."
"He needs to die before. Think, Paramessu. Ay may only have a handful of legions but if our men are facing an excellent commander they will be reluctant to fight. If Nakhtmin is dead, Ay either has to take the field himself or put some incompetent like Psenamy in charge. Ay is ill - or worse. There are even reports that his mind is addled. He will not be able to lead his legions. His son is essential to the defence of his kingship, so we must eliminate him at the start. The only thing left to ask is - can you do it?"
"I can move openly against him?"
"Yes, but only with men you trust totally. You cannot risk mutiny in your own ranks."
"Then I will have to take fewer men and leave immediately if I am to intercept Nakhtmin and Scarab before they reach Men-nefer."
Paramessu picked twenty men from the garrison of the Khonsu fort - men who had served with him or who were known for their antipathy toward the House of Ay. Another essential requirement was the ability to ride a horse well and this resulted in half a dozen of the twenty staying behind. An hour after he arrived, Paramessu rode out, heading for Zarw and the flat delta lands of Ta Mehu. There, he used documents provided by Horemheb to enlist more men for his venture and commandeer a small fleet of boats.
* * * * *
Nakhtmin's naval vessel entered the third branch of Iteru, moving laboriously through the flat green lands where the water moved slowly between spreading reed beds and past lowing herds of cattle grazing on lush pastures. A pilot boat had met them off the easternmost branch and the pilot conversed with the naval commander and Nakhtmin. The prince wanted to avoid the eastern branch as it wound its way inland close to Zarw and Horemheb's men. The pilot warned against the second branch as it was silting up in the upper reaches and already the flow was low. The naval commander opted for the third branch and after the pilot disembarked, took his ship across the silty water at the mouths of the river, and nosed his vessel into the proper channel. The oars came out then and the sailors strained, propelling the ship slowly against the current.
Nakhtmin's progress had been slow on the return from Gubla but he had not remained idle. A smaller vessel had met them two days out and carried dispatches south to the king. News of the king's progress down river had reached them the day before and the prince started planning his triumphant entry into Men-nefer and the court of his father. The other thing that had occupied Nakhtmin as the naval vessel moved slowly down the coast was the interrogation of his prisoners. The heir to the throne did not need any information from either one, but he readily admitted putting the question was an end in itself. Now they were deep into Ta Mehu, forging slowly upriver toward Men-nefer. They would be there in a day or two and the opportunities for torturing his victims were slipping away.
"Come Scarab," Nakhtmin said pleasantly. "Tell me more about this stone eye of yours." He lounged in the captain's cabin at the rear of the ship and contemplated the half-naked woman bound by ropes to a large bronze ring set in a ceiling beam. Her dress hung off her hips, her full breasts spotted and streaked with sweat and blood. Nakhtmin sipped on wine cooled by trailing the jar on a rope behind the ship and picked desultorily at the crust of a barley loaf sitting on a table beside him. "Admit you just saw a pretty stone and picked it up. There was no god involved."
"Believe that if you like but I have told you what happened." Scarab's words slurred as she spoke and she would have fallen if the ropes had not held her upright. Her face was cut and bruised from days of beatings and she breathed through swollen lips, as her nose was broken and bleeding.
Nakhtmin looked over at the corner where Nebhotep lay trussed and immobile. "What say you, physician? You are a man of learning and reason. There are no gods, are there? She picked up the stone herself. The rest is just playing on the superstitions of the peasantry."
"I wasn't there," Nebhotep said tiredly. He too had been beaten and he knew that at least one rib lay broken within him. He thrust away the pain, determined to stay awake and alert. Scarab has suffered more than I , he thought. If she can stand it, so can I . "However, I have seen her do things that no man or woman can do--only a god. To me that means a god works through her..." He coughed, almost crying out with the pain as the broken bones moved within him. "If she...says a god gave...gave her the stone...I believe her."
"Ah, yes, we keep coming back to these gifts, these so-called miracles. Water from rocks, finding your way in the dark, raising men from the dead, turning back evil. All I ask is that you perform one miracle for me and I'll believe."
Scarab said nothing.
Nakhtmin laughed. "Oh, that's right; you conveniently lost your powers, didn't you? So you can't defend yourself, or raise your physician friend here from the dead after I have him killed in Men-nefer."
"That is where you are taking us?"
"Yes. My father the king will have arrived there by now. I will show you to the court and then have you killed." Nakhtmin grinned. "I may even do it myself. Do you have any preferences for the way you'd like to die?"
"Perhaps with my own blade in your heart."
"By the gods, you still have spirit, woman. Well, I have another day or so yet to see if I can break you." Nakhtmin stretched and yawned and then rose to his feet, swaying as the ship heeled over slightly in a gust of wind. "I am going for a walk around the deck and a light meal. When I return I will humiliate you some more." He hitched at his kilt suggestively, and left the cabin laughing.
Scarab eased her position, forcing herself to stand upright on bruised and aching legs. Her arms remained tied above her head but she could relieve some of the pressure on them. Involuntarily, she groaned and Nebhotep edged his way round on the floor to face her.
"Are you alright?" he asked, worry naked in his voice.
"My arms are cramping," Scarab muttered. "Just a moment...aah."
Nebhotep waited a few minutes for Scarab to get hold of herself again. He tested his bonds again while he waited but there was little give in the reed ropes, and the knots had been expertly tied by the sailors. "What are we going to do?" he asked as calmly as possible.
Scarab smiled faintly. "When he comes back in, we'll overpower him, then take over the ship and sail back to Kenaan."
Nebhotep tried to smile but found he could not. "No, really."
"I don't know. If my powers were back..."
"How did you lose them in the first place? I thought the gods were at your command."
"I've been thinking about that," Scarab replied. "Initially I though maybe I had used the gifts too much and they ran out, but Auset promised me she would multiply the gifts. She did not put a limit on them. Then I wondered whether I had recognised the gods sufficiently, offered up praises and thanks for their gifts. I know I did so, but was it enough?"
"I heard you many times," Nebhotep murmured. "I cannot see how it would not be enough."
"Did I always give the credit to the god?"
Nebhotep thought about this for a few moments and decided he owed Scarab complete honesty. "Not always. I remember once when you produced water from
a rock, others praised you, not the god, and you said nothing."
"It was worse in the Amorite camp and in Taanach," Scarab said quietly. "I used the Eye of Geb to turn back evil so many times I came to accept this as my power, not that of Set." She was silent for several minutes, then, "I lost the golden scarab of Atum."
"What? Where?"
"I had it in Taanach, I did not in Gubla. I can only think that I dropped it somewhere between."
"Is it...I know it was a gift from Atum but...is it important? It never did anything, did it?"
"Nothing else worked without it. All the other gifts only worked if I was holding it, touching it or even just feeling its weight in my robe." Scarab sighed and let her arms take her weight again, flexing her legs one at a time. "I knew it was missing as soon as I got to Gubla, but I acted as if my powers were still with me. I was afraid to put them to the test until Nakhtmin hit me. Then I knew they were gone."
"They'll come back, won't they?" Nebhotep asked. "The gods of Iunu loved you before you ever got the golden scarab. They won't forsake you."
"I don't know. I have prayed and acknowledged my sin of pride, begged for forgiveness. All I can do now is wait."
"We only have a day until we reach Men-nefer," Nebhotep pointed out. "After that..."
Scarab stood upright again, feeling the bones of her shoulders click and rub painfully. "I'm thirty years old, my friend. I lived for twenty-six of those without the gifts of the gods, so I will just have to learn to live without them again. If we are going to escape, it'll have to be done by our own efforts."
"Hmm, well alright," Nebhotep said with a wry smile, "But you do I realise I'm tied hand and foot? I suppose if you can get him near to me, I can bite his ankle."
Despite their prospects, Scarab smiled. "I know, and I also know that when Nakhtmin returns he will release me. He cannot force himself on me without untying me."
Nebhotep looked away. "He will answer to the gods for shaming you like that," he said thickly.