The Oasis

by Pauline Gedge

  All at once the world came back. The birds began to pipe again. The trees dipped and quivered in the morning breeze. Sunlight poured onto the path. And Aahotep, crouching dazed between her sons, heard a confusion of noise coming closer from the direction of the watersteps. They will certainly kill me now, she thought dully. The knife. I must get the knife. I must try to defend myself somehow. But she continued to stare in the direction of Meketra’s body in a kind of stupor, unable to move.

  Orders were called. Heavy feet came pounding up from behind. She hunched her shoulders against the blow she knew must fall but instead she heard Ramose’s voice say, “Oh gods, oh gods. Kamose!” and turned her head to see him fall to his knees beside her.

  “Majesty?” someone else said. “May I help you? Are you hurt?” Slowly she looked up to see Ankhmahor limned against the brightness of the sky. She nodded wearily, feeling his arms go around her and lift her to her feet.

  “Aahmes-nefertari,” she managed. “Leave me, Ankhmahor. I do not need you but she does. She has gone to the parade ground to try and bring our troops to heel. The Princes …” She could not finish. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hor-Aha running, his black face a mask of fury. When his glance fell on Kamose he stopped, stunned. Then he let out a sound, half animal howl, half shriek, that pierced Aahotep’s strange lethargy. “How many Medjay have you brought with you, General?” she demanded. He stared at her wildly for a moment, trembling like an agitated horse.

  “I swore to my master that I would protect my lord,” he blurted. “I have failed in my duty.” Aahotep realized with a shock that he was referring to Seqenenra.

  “This is not the time, Hor-Aha,” she said sharply. “How many?” He came to himself at her tone.

  “Five hundred, Majesty,” he answered. “They are disembarking now.”

  “Then get them to the barracks at once,” she commanded. “Aahmes-nefertari is trying to stop an insurrection. Put yourself under her. Now, General! And you also, Ankhmahor!” She swung to Ramose who had risen but was staring down at Kamose’s corpse, himself pale to the lips. “Ramose, your mother is under arrest,” she said in a low voice. “Some of this is her doing. If you find her, do not let her speak to you, I beg. I do not want you responsible for putting her in the prison. Do you understand?” Tears were running down his cheeks but he seemed to be unaware of them. He nodded expressionlessly. “Good,” Aahotep went on. “Cull twenty men from the Medjay. I want Kamose carried into the reception hall, but Ahmose must be placed on his own couch. He is still alive. The house is full of …” She faltered and swallowed. “It is full of corpses, Ramose. Have them removed to the House of the Dead.”

  Suddenly she wanted to fall into this young man’s arms, to be held and stroked, to sob out the agony that had only just begun, but she knew she could not. Kares was hurrying towards her from the rear of the house with Uni and a dozen servants in an anxious gaggle behind. I cannot collapse, she thought as she turned to deal with them. The physician must be summoned for Ahmose. Kamose must be washed and the sem priests sent for. Kares must have the corridors cleansed. Food must be prepared for Tetisheri. Someone must go and make sure that Ahmose-onkh and the baby arrived safely at the temple. I cannot give way. Not until the Princes are in prison and the army secure. But what if the Princes triumph? Oh, my sons. My beautiful sons. How am I to tell Tetisheri that the light of her life is dead? Stepping over Meketra’s prone form with a shudder, she composed herself for her steward.

  “Majesty!” he exclaimed as he came up to her. “You have blood all over your hands!”

  “That is not blood, Kares,” she replied wearily. “It is poison. Give me your arm. I feel very tired and there is much to do this morning.”

  Aahmes-nefertari’s route to the wide parade ground and the barracks that lined it lay past the servants’ quarters. She had paused in the house only long enough to relieve a dead Follower of a knife and a small axe, objects that felt entirely foreign to her terrified grasp. As she ran out of the gloom of the house and into a burst of blinding morning light, she bitterly regretted the day when she had wandered beyond the perimeter wall of the estate with an excited Ahmoseonkh by the hand. If I had stayed within the boundaries prescribed for a wife and mother I would not be in this mess, she berated herself. Someone else would be clutching these weapons with a great deal more skill than I, some man with authority and a voice that can shout down any opposition. But who? her thoughts flowed on, even as she swerved towards the larger cells the stewards occupied. I am all that is left. “Uni!” she called as she thrust open his door with the hilt of the axe. “You and Kares are needed in the house at once!” He had already left his couch and was standing naked beside a bowl of water from which steam was rising. His expression of surprise did not last long and she did not wait to see him reach for a gown. She knew that like all good stewards he would respond immediately and with smooth efficiency.

  A row of straggling trees grew between the rear of the servants’ rooms and the protecting wall of the estate. The gate leading out to a path that ran straight through fields to the desert beyond was usually well guarded, indeed she had hoped to find two strong sword-arms here to accompany her, but today no one challenged her and she pushed through it and turned right, onto the track that would take her to her destination.

  Already she could hear the uproar. Men were shouting and a cloud of dust hung over the area. I should have donned a helmet from one of the dead Followers, taken an armband, anything to give an impression of control, she told herself tersely. I feel clumsy and stupid unpainted, my hair undressed, my wrist already aching from the weight of the axe while I try to keep the knife from becoming entangled in my sheath. I am not even wearing a protective amulet. If I die today, will it be as a royal woman with courage or a figure of ludicrous absurdity? She wanted to cry, to sink to the ground and put her head on her knees. She wanted Ahmose to magically appear, take the weapons from her in the gentle way he had, and send her back to her rooms with words of praise for her attempt. The image of her husband’s face deepened her despair but it also stiffened her resolve. If I am to die so be it, she told herself firmly. I must not dishonour my heritage. I must not lie down in the mud with Tani.

  The parade ground was in sight now, and the back of the dais from which the troops might be reviewed. Perhaps a dozen men were gathered on it, and with a jolt of pure dread Aahmes-nefertari recognized Intef and Iasen among them. The vast arena itself was full of a confusion of jostling soldiers. More were streaming from the barracks themselves. Aahmes-nefertari, slowing to a brisk walk, noted grimly that although many of them were kilted in the white and blue-edged linen of royal possession there were just as many in the various liveries of the Princes. All of them were armed.

  Squaring her shoulders and tightening her grip on the knife and the axe, she rounded the corner of the dais, mounted the steps, and with a swift inward prayer to the gods, thrust herself among the small crowd. “Move aside all of you,” she said crisply. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Commander of the Barracks with his hands on his hips, frowning out at the undisciplined mob below. Knowing instinctively that she must keep talking, keep her tone commanding and cold, she gestured to him sharply with the knife. “Amun-nakht, call up a bodyguard for me at once and use that horn hanging at your waist. Look at this rabble! Blow until they stop yelling.” Amun-nakht’s eyes slid uncertainly in the direction of the two Princes, and with her heart in her mouth Aahmes-nefertari took one quick step towards him. “At once, Commander!” she snapped. “You and no one else are responsible to His Majesty for the order and discipline of the troops quartered here. Must I remind you of your duty? How could you allow this mayhem? Have you no pride?”

  After a second’s hesitation Amun-nakht walked reluctantly to the edge of the dais, beckoning to two Weset soldiers and unhooking the trumpet from his belt. Intef gave a strangled exclamation and began to speak, but Aahmes-nefertari rounded on him. “Neither you nor your troops have any business he
re, Intef,” she said loudly. “Whatever purpose you had in mingling them with my men, you had better separate them before there is bloodshed.” The two soldiers Amun-nakht had summoned had climbed onto the dais and were now flanking her, but she sensed their confusion. Amun-nakht had not blown the horn. He was standing with it held loosely in one fist, his whole stance betraying his indecision. I cannot order them to protect me, Aahmes-nefertari thought. I cannot even suggest a weakness or the men here will be on me like a pack of lions.

  It was Iasen, not Intef, who challenged her. He had been conferring with a group of officers of mixed allegiance, and when Aahmes-nefertari strode onto the wooden platform, he broke off his conversation but made no other move. He had watched her avidly, eyes narrowed. Now he pushed himself impudently close to her. “I think it is you who have no business here, Highness,” he said rudely. “This is a matter for men. Go back to the house. Intef and I are assuming command of the Weset army. Your brothers are no longer considered lords in Egypt. They have forfeited that right by their arrogance and the ruin that has followed their progress during the last two years. If you wish to remain unmolested, go home.” It was an outright threat. Aahmes-nefertari felt her temper rise and with the anger her fear evaporated. Thrusting her face into his, she prodded him with the dagger.

  “The right to rule Egypt is a matter of blood and precedence,” she hissed. “It has nothing to do with the perceptions of traitorous worms like you, Iasen.” She pointed the axe rigidly at the furore on the training ground. “Those men belong to Kamose, Ahmose and to me! They are the property of the Taos. Do you hear that, you cowards?”

  Turning abruptly from Iasen, painfully aware that she was exposing her back, she stalked to Amun-nakht. “Blow the damn horn,” she ordered. “Blow it or I will have you shot for treason instead of just removing your nose for insubordination.” Pushing past both Intef and Iasen with as much contempt as she could muster, she confronted the Weset officers and played her greatest bluff. “His Majesty and His Highness are even now putting down the insurrection these Princes have instigated,” she told them. “The Medjay are swarming over the estate. If you obey me now, I will do my best to see that your moment of disloyalty is not punished.”

  “But that is not possible!” Intef burst out. “Meketra assured me …”

  “Of what?” she asked scornfully without bothering to turn her head. “Of the ease with which he could murder the King? It is not so easy to kill a divinity, Intef.” Now she did indeed walk up to both the Princes. “Well?” she went on. “Will you surrender or flee? Make up your minds quickly. The King and my husband will have dealt with your vermin by now and Hor-Aha will be coming to take vengeance upon you.”

  For what seemed an eternity they met her gaze. Unflinchingly she dared them to call her a liar, to demand why she, a woman, had been sent to restore order among soldiers who would be far more likely to listen to one of their own kind, why Kamose would expose his own sister to extreme danger instead of a group of fully armed Medjay. I hope they see my presence as a crafty ploy on Kamose’s part, she thought as she held their scrutiny. They already see him as cruel and ruthless. Any man would pause before running a woman through, particularly a royal one. How long can I afford to let their minds race over every doubt? How stupid are they?

  “Arrest them both!” she called harshly to the silently observing officers. “Take them to the prison. Allow no interference!” At that moment the horn blared out, strident and startling. Four times Amun-nakht blew, until the cacophony on the parade ground had died to a discontented mutter and one by one the faces were turned to the dais. Intef and Iasen began to bluster indignantly as they were surrounded but the officers’ features were now cleared of any reservation and the Princes were hustled away.

  Aahmes-nefertari knew that the battle was not wholly won. The soldiers from the other nomes, seeing their nobles overcome, began to call out in protest, and many of their officers were still on the dais. Aahmes-nefertari hurried to Amun-nakht. “Do the job for which you were trained,” she said. “Order them into ranks with our troops at the rear. Weapons on the ground in front of them.” Tensely she waited while Amun-nakht bellowed and the men sullenly obeyed. There were still officers belonging to Intef and Iasen on the dais behind her. Aahmes-nefertari was aware that one word from any of them, one shouted order countermanding her own, would result in a riot, but they remained silent.

  At last the thousands of soldiers were resolved into formation, their swords and axes lying jumbled at their dusty feet. Aahmes-nefertari, scanning them carefully through the haze, found that she was facing them with her own knife and axe crossed upon her breast like royal regalia. She did not alter her stance. “Now tell them this,” she said in answer to the commander’s enquiring glance. “They are all to return to their cells together with their officers. The troops belonging to other nomes must remain in the barracks His Majesty assigned to them. There is to be no more mingling with the soldiers of Weset. Any man stepping outside his door will be shot immediately. The weapons will stay where they are.” Amun-nakht nodded. While he called out her instructions, she turned to the officers who were watching her warily. “Those of you who owed fealty to His Majesty by way of the Princes are guilty of treason and have earned execution,” she said. “However, until I learn His Majesty’s pleasure, you will shut yourselves up with your men and perhaps in helping to avert a disaster you will have earned a pardon. As for you officers of Weset …” She paused, forcing each one of them to meet her gaze. “I know each one of you. Have I not spent hours here in your company? Have I not concerned myself with the welfare of the troops? I am ashamed of you.” One of them put out a hand.

  “Highness, may I speak?” he begged. Aahmes-nefertari nodded brusquely.

  “The Princes commanded us to gather here,” he explained. “They told us that His Majesty and His Highness were dead and they had assumed control of all Egyptian soldiers. They threatened us with punishment if we refused to oversee the men under us according to their wishes. What could we do?”

  “You could have asked to see the bodies,” she retorted. “You could have requested verification from General Hor-Aha. You have behaved like witless peasants and are no longer to be trusted. But I will give you a chance to redeem yourselves.” Actually I have little choice, she thought to herself. There is no one left to keep order here until the Medjay come. If they come. If this revolt has not extended to them or worse, engulfed them in their sleep. I stand on a knife-edge and I am invisibly bleeding. “I am putting you in charge of enforcing my demands,” she went on. “Do not delegate this responsibility to your seconds. You yourselves must set up watches to guard the weapons, arrange for food and drink to be delivered to the soldiers in the cells, and see that no one leaves the barracks until General Hor-Aha himself or a member of the royal family makes new rules. His Majesty appointed you officers. Can you perform these small duties?” Her tone was derisive and the faces staring back at her became grim. “Leave the dais,” she concluded. “The men are filing to their cells. See that they go where they should.” They saluted her and descended the steps, going among the crowd at once, but she did not feel encouraged. I have no means of enforcing my brave words, she told herself gloomily. Anything could still happen.

  She rejoined Amun-nakht and for a while they watched the dispersal of the troops in an awkward silence. Then Aahmes-nefertari turned to him squarely. “Unless you can be trusted, my orders to the officers were in vain,” she said. “You are Commander of the Barracks. If there is sedition in your heart, I cannot leave this dais. I must bring my couch and camp here.” He glanced at her with swift acumen.

  “But surely His Majesty will send a higher grade of officer than me to take charge,” he objected politely. “I am suspect, Highness. I faltered in my duty. I was swayed by a higher authority. I am sorry.”

  “Sorry?” she blurted. “My family was almost murdered, our estates stolen, His Majesty’s war against Apepa brought to nothing, all those deat
hs for nothing, and you are sorry? Gods, Amun-nakht, you and I have taken such pride in these men, such care of them, and yet when I gave you my first order today you hesitated to obey!”

  “I am thinking that His Majesty would not send his sister to avert an insurrection if he could come himself,” he answered. “I am thinking that if Your Highness is reduced to camping here on the dais it is because there is no one else to maintain control of a very dangerous situation.” His gaze returned to her, speculative and yet full of esteem. “I am thinking that the Princes are stupid not to have arrived at the same conclusions and I am indeed sorry that I underestimated the power and determination of the House of Tao.”

  “That does not absolve you.”

  “Of course not. Tell me if you will, Highness, is His Majesty still alive?” Aahmes-nefertari drew a deep breath.

  “Kamose had a talent for promoting men of intelligence and insight,” she sighed, and made a quick decision to tell Amun-nakht everything. “I do not know how things stand in the house. The Followers are almost all dead. Kamose had gone to the watersteps to warn Ahmose just before I came here. As for the Medjay …” she shrugged fatalistically. “I can only hope that Ramose or Ankhmahor crossed the river. I pray that my brothers have already regained mastery over the house but … I know nothing more than I have told you.” In a gesture both impulsive and decisive she handed him the axe. “I could not allow the army to mutiny,” she said simply. “Will you take my place here, Amun-nakht, or will you arrest me and have my men free the Princes?” He took the weapon, hefting it easily.

  “I was not with His Majesty on any of his campaigns,” he replied frankly. “When the Weset division was quartered here, I was responsible for keeping order in the barracks. When I was left with only the household troops, I provided guards for the house and estate and maintained peace throughout the nome. I am Weset born and bred. I love my home and the lords who have done their best to make it safe. I remember when Apepa came, how humiliating it was for our soldiers to defer to Setiu officers.” He grimaced. “Highness, I did not want to see Weset come under the yoke of any Prince other than a Tao, but we were told that the deed was done and what could we say? We are only soldiers. We have little of our own. We serve whoever sits at the pinnacle of supremacy.”