The Quest (Novels of Ancient Egypt)

by Wilbur Smith

  Taita reached down and placed his hand on the child’s bald head. There was a sizzling sound and the sharp reek of scorched flesh. The brat screamed and twisted away from Taita’s touch. Imprinted on his pate was a raw red brand, not the outline of Taita’s hand but the cat’s paw of Eos.

  ‘You have wounded the little fellow,’ blurted Meren, his voice softening with pity.

  ‘It is no infant,’ Taita answered. ‘It is the last evil branch and twig of the sorceress. This is her spirit sign emblazoned on its head.’ He reached out to touch the creature again, but it shrieked and cowered away from hm. He seized it by the ankles and held it upside down, struggling and twisting in his grip. ‘Unmask yourself, Soe. The witch, your mistress, has been consumed in the subterranean flames of the earth. None of her powers will avail you any longer.’ He hurled the child on to the sleeping mat, where it lay whimpering.

  Taita made a pass over it with his right hand, stripping away Soe’s deception. The infant changed size and shape slowly until it was revealed as the witch’s emissary, Soe, his eyes blazing and features contorted with malevolence and hatred.

  ‘Do you recognize him now?’ Taita asked Meren.

  ‘By Seth’s foul breath, it is Soe who set the toads upon Demeter. I last saw this devil’s spawn riding off into the night on the back of the hyena, his familiar.’

  ‘Bind him!’ Taita ordered. ‘He goes to Karnak to face the justice of Pharaoh.’

  The morning after the royal return to Karnak from Assuit, Queen Mintaka sat beside Pharaoh in the private audience chamber of the palace. The bright sun was streaming in through the high windows. It was not flattering to her: she looked drawn and exhausted. It seemed to Meren that she had aged many years since he had last seen her only a few days before.

  Pharaoh sat on a higher throne than his queen. Crossed over his chest he held the golden flails, the symbols of justice and punishment. On his head was the tall red and white crown of the Two Kingdoms, known as the Mighty One, Pschent. A pair of scribes sat at either side of the throne to record his deliberations.

  Pharaoh Nefer Seti acknowledged Meren. ‘Have you succeeded in the task I set you, Lord Marshal?’

  ‘I have, mighty Pharaoh. Your enemy is in my custody.’

  ‘I expected no less of you. Nevertheless, I am well pleased. You may bring him before me to answer my questions.’

  Meren banged the butt of his spear three times on the floor. Immediately there was the tramp of nailed sandals and an escort of ten guardsmen filed into the room. Queen Mintaka regarded them with lacklustre gaze until she recognized the prisoner in their midst.

  Soe was barefooted and naked, except for a white linen breech clout. Heavy bronze chains shackled his wrists and ankles. His face was haggard, but his chin was lifted high in defiance. Mintaka gasped and sprang to her feet, staring at him in consternation and dismay. ‘Pharaoh, this is a mighty and powerful prophet, a servant of the nameless goddess. He is no enemy! We cannot treat him thus.’

  Pharaoh turned his head slowly and stared at her. ‘If he is not my enemy, why did you wish to hide him from me?’ he asked.

  Mintaka faltered and covered her mouth with a hand. She sank down upon her throne, her face ashen and her eyes stricken.

  Pharaoh turned back to Soe. ‘State your name!’ he ordered the captive.

  Soe glared at him. ‘I acknowledge no authority above that of the nameless goddess,’ he declared.

  ‘The one you speak of is no longer nameless. Her name was Eos, and she was never a goddess.’

  ‘Beware!’ Soe shouted. ‘You blaspheme! The wrath of the goddess is swift and certain.’

  Pharaoh ignored this outburst. ‘Did you conspire with this sorceress to dam the Mother Nile?’

  ‘I answer only to the goddess,’ Soe snarled.

  ‘Did you, in concert with this sorceress, use supernatural powers to inflict the plagues upon this very Egypt? Was your purpose to topple me from the throne?’

  ‘You are no true king!’ Soe shouted. ‘You are a usurper and an apostate! Eos is the ruler of the earth and of all its nations!’

  ‘Did you strike down my children, prince and princess of the blood royal?’

  ‘They were not of the royal blood,’ Soe asserted. ‘They were commoners. The goddess alone is of royal blood.’

  ‘Did you use your evil influence to turn my queen aside from the path of honour? Did you convince her that she should help you to place the sorceress on my throne?’

  ‘It is not your throne. It is the rightful throne of Eos.’

  ‘Did you promise my queen to restore our children to life?’ Pharaoh demanded, in a voice as cold and sharp as a sword blade.

  ‘The tomb never yields up its fruit,’ Soe replied.

  ‘So you lied. Ten thousand lies! You lied and you murdered and you spread sedition and despair throughout my empire.’

  ‘In the service of Eos, lies are things of beauty, murder is a noble act. I spread no sedition. I spread the truth.’

  ‘Soe, you are condemned from your own mouth.’

  ‘You cannot harm me. I am protected by my goddess.’

  ‘Eos is destroyed. Your goddess is no more,’ Pharaoh intoned gravely. He turned back to Mintaka. ‘My queen, have you heard enough?’

  Mintaka was sobbing quietly. She was so overcome that she was unable to speak, but she nodded, then covered her face in shame.

  At last Pharaoh looked directly at two figures who were standing quietly at the back of the hall. The visor of Taita’s helmet was closed and Fenn’s face was covered with a veil. Only her green eyes showed.

  ‘Tell us how Eos was destroyed,’ Pharaoh ordered.

  ‘Mighty one, she was consumed by fire,’ said Taita.

  ‘So it is fitting that her creature should share her fate.’

  ‘It would be a merciful death, better than he deserves, better than the death he dealt out to the innocent.’

  Pharaoh nodded thoughtfully, then turned back to Mintaka. ‘I am minded to give you an opportunity to redeem yourself in my sight, and in the sight of the gods of Egypt.’

  Mintaka threw herself at his feet. ‘I did not understand what I was doing. He promised that the Nile would flow again and our children would be restored to us, if only you would acknowledge the goddess. I believed him.’

  ‘All this I understand.’ Pharaoh raised Mintaka to her feet. ‘The penance I impose upon you is that your own royal hand will set the torch to the execution fire in which Soe and the last trace of the sorceress will be expunged from my domains.’

  Mintaka swayed on her feet and her expression was one of utter despair. Then she seemed to rally herself. ‘I am Pharaoh’s loyal wife and subject. To obey his command is my duty. I shall set the fire under Soe, in whom once I believed.’

  ‘Lord Meren, take this miserable creature down into the courtyard where the stake awaits him. Queen Mintaka will go with you.’

  The escort marched Soe down the marble staircase and into the courtyard. Meren followed them down, with Mintaka leaning heavily on his arm.

  ‘Stand by me, Magus,’ Pharaoh commanded Taita. ‘You will bear witness to the fate of our enemy.’ Together they went to the balcony that overlooked the courtyard.

  A tall pile, built of logs and bundles of dried papyrus, stood at the centre of the courtyard below them. It had been soaked with lamp oil. A wooden ladder reached up to the scaffold that surmounted the pyre. Two brawny executioners were waiting at the foot. They took Soe from his guards and dragged him up, for his legs could barely support him, then roped him to the stake. They descended the ladder, leaving him alone on the summit. Meren went to the burning brazier beside the doorway into the courtyard. He dipped a tar-soaked torch into the flames, carried it to Mintaka and placed it in her hand. He left her at the foot of the execution pyre.

  Mintaka looked up at Pharaoh on the balcony above her. Her expression was pitiful. He nodded to her. She hesitated a moment longer, then hurled the burning torch on to the bundl
es of oil-soaked papyrus. She staggered back as a sheet of fire shot up the side of the pyre. The flames and black smoke boiled up higher than the roof of the palace. In the heart of the flames, Soe shouted to the cloudless sky, ‘Hear me, Eos, the only true goddess! Your faithful servant calls to you. Lift me out of the fire. Show your power and holy might to this petty pharaoh and all the world!’ Then his voice was drowned by the crackling of the conflagration. Soe sagged forward on his bonds as the smoke and heat enveloped him, and the leaping flames screened him. For an instant they parted to reveal his form, blackened and twisted, no longer human, still hanging from the stake. Then the pyre collapsed in upon itself and he was consumed in the centre of the fire.

  Meren drew Mintaka back to the safety of the stairway and led her up to the royal audience hall. She had become a frail old woman, stripped of her dignity and beauty. She went to Pharaoh and knelt before him. ‘My lord husband, I beg your forgiveness,’ she whispered. ‘I was a stupid woman, and there is no excuse for what I did.’

  ‘You are forgiven,’ said Nefer Seti, then he seemed at a loss as to what he should do next. He made as if to lift her to her feet, but then stepped back. He knew that such condescension ill-befitted a divine pharaoh and glanced across at Taita, seeking his guidance. Taita touched Fenn’s arm. She nodded and lifted her veil, revealing her golden beauty, then crossed the floor and stooped over Mintaka. ‘Come, my queen,’ she said, and took Mintaka’s arm.

  The queen looked up at her. ‘Who are you?’ she quavered.

  ‘I am one who cares for you deeply,’ Fenn replied, and lifted her up.

  Mintaka stared into her green eyes, then suddenly she sobbed, ‘I sense that you are good and wise beyond your years,’ and went into Fenn’s embrace. Holding her close, Fenn led her from the chamber.

  ‘Who is that young woman?’ Nefer Seti asked Taita. ‘I can wait no longer to know. Tell me at once, Magus. That is my royal command.’

  ‘Pharaoh, she is the reincarnation of your grandmother, Queen Lostris,’ Taita replied, ‘the woman I once loved and now love again.’

  Meren’s new estates extended for thirty leagues along the bank of Mother Nile. At the centre stood one of the royal palaces and a magnificent temple dedicated to the falcon god Horus. Both buildings formed part of the royal gift. Three hundred tenant farmers tilled the fertile fields, which were irrigated from the river. They tithed a fifth part of their crops to their new landlord, Lord Marshal Meren Cambyses. A hundred and fifty serfs and two hundred slaves, captives of Pharaoh’s wars, worked in the palace or on the private part of the estate.

  Meren named the estate Karim Ek-Horus, the Vineyards of Horus. In the spring of that year when the crops were planted, and the earth was bountiful, Pharaoh came downriver from Karnak with all his royal suite to attend the nuptials of Lord Meren and his bride.

  Meren and Sidudu came together on the riverbank. Meren was dressed in all the regalia of a marshal of the army, with ostrich plumes in his helmet, the gold chains of Valour and Praise on his bare chest. Sidudu had jasmine blossoms in her hair, and her dress was a cloud of white silk from far Cathay. They broke the jars of Nile water and kissed while all the people shouted with joy and besought the gods’ blessing.

  The festivities lasted ten days and nights. Meren wanted to fill the palace fountains with wine, but from the moment she became his wife Sidudu forbade such extravagance. Meren was startled by how readily she had assumed the mantle of control over his household, but Taita comforted him: ‘She will make you the best possible wife. Her frugality is proof of that. An extravagant wife is a scorpion in her husband’s bed.’

  Each day Nefer Seti sat with Taita and Meren for hours, listening avidly to the saga of their journey to the Mountains of the Moon. When the tale was told in all its detail, he commanded them to repeat it. Sidudu, Fenn and Mintaka sat with them. Under Fenn’s influence the queen’s nature had changed. She had shed the weight of her sorrow and guilt and was once again serene and aglow with happiness. It was clear to all that she had been fully reinstated in her husband’s favour.

  One part of the story fascinated them, particularly Nefer Seti. He returned to it again and again. ‘Tell me once more about the Font,’ he demanded of Taita. ‘Make certain you leave out no single detail. Begin with the account of how you crossed the bridge of stone over the burning lava lake.’

  When Taita reached the end of the tale, he was still not satisfied: ‘Describe the taste of the Blueness as you drew it into your mouth’ ‘Why did it not suffocate you like water in your lungs when you breathed it?’ ‘Was it cold or hot?’ ‘How long after you emerged from the Font did you become aware of its marvellous effects?’ ‘You say the lava burns upon your legs were healed at once, and your strength returned to all your limbs. Is that truly so?’ ‘Now the Font has been destroyed by the eruptions of the volcano, has it been drowned in the burning lava? What a terrible loss that would be. Has it been placed for ever beyond our grasp?’

  ‘The Font, like the life-giving force it bestows, is eternal. As long as life on this earth exists, so also must the Font,’ Taita replied.

  ‘Down the years the philosophers, have dreamed of this magical Font, and all my ancestors sought it. Eternal life and eternal youth, what matchless treasures are these?’ Pharaoh’s eyes were bright with an almost religious fervour. Suddenly he exclaimed, ‘Find it for me, Taita. I do not command it but I implore you. I have only twenty or thirty years of my allotted time remaining to me. Go forth, Taita, and find the Font again.’

  Taita did not have to look at Fenn. Her voice rang clearly in his head: ‘My darling Taita, I add my supplications to those of your king. Take me with you. Let us go out into all the earth until we come to the place where the Font is hidden. Let me bathe in the Blue so that I may stand beside you, in love with you through all eternity.’

  ‘Pharaoh.’ Taita looked into his eager eyes. ‘As you command, so must I obey.’

  ‘If you succeed, your rewards will be without limit. I will heap upon you all the treasures and honours this world contains.’

  ‘What I have now is sufficient. I have youth and the wisdom of the ages. I have the love of my king and my woman. I do this out of love for you both.’

  Taita rode Windsmoke and Fenn was on Whirlwind. Each led a fully laden packhorse. They wore Bedouin garb and carried bow and sword. Meren and Sidudu rode with them as far as the crest of the eastern hills above the estate of Karim Ek-Horus. Here they parted. Sidudu and Fenn shared a sisterly tear, while Meren embraced Taita and kissed his cheek.

  ‘Poor Magus! What will you do without me to care for you?’ His voice was rough. ‘I warrant you will not be a day out of my sight before you are in some pretty piece of trouble.’ Then he turned to Fenn. ‘Take care of him and bring him back to us one day.’

  Taita and Fenn mounted and rode down the backslope of the hills. They halted half-way and looked back at the two small figures on the heights above them. Meren and Sidudu waved one last time, then turned their horses and vanished over the skyline.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Fenn asked.

  ‘First we must cross a sea, great plains and then a high mountain range.’

  ‘After that, whither?’

  ‘Into a deep jungle to the temple of Saraswati, the goddess of wisdom and regeneration.’

  ‘What will we find there?’

  ‘A wise woman who will open your Inner Eye so that you will be able to help me discern the path to the sacred Font more clearly.’

  ‘How long will our journey be?’

  ‘Our journey will be without end, together through all time,’ Taita told her.

  Fenn laughed with joy. ‘Then, my lord, we must begin at once.’

  Side by side they spurred the horses and rode out into the unknown.

  First published 2007 by Macmillan

  an imprint of Pan Macmillan Ltd

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  ISBN: 978-1-4050-0580-7

  Copyright © Wilbur Smith 2007

  The right of Wilbur Smith to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

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