by Overton, Max
Neshi saluted. "We are yours to command, Tjaty Ay."
"Good man. Not a word to anyone though, not even your officers. There are spies everywhere and while I trust your officers, who can be sure of the servants?"
Ay left the North barracks with a smile on his face. The day was even hotter and dustier than before. He considered stopping in at the North Palace to talk to Nefertiti, but decided against it. The fewer people who know my plans, the better , he thought. If he had stopped, he might have seen a young girl in a servant's kilt hurrying out of the palace in the direction of the waterfront.
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Chapter Twenty-Nine
It wasn't too difficult to get the things I thought I would need for my journey to Waset. One of the advantages of living in the palace is that everyone knows their own place and their duties and assumes everyone else does too. As a princess I had the added advantage of having nobody question me. However, I knew that if I stepped outside the palace I would attract attention unless I could disguise myself in some way. A grown woman might have had some difficulty but a slip of a girl was beneath anyone's notice. Being new to Akhet-Aten and never having been in the North Palace before the previous night, the only way the majority of the servants could know my rank was to pay attention to my bearing and clothes. Change those and I would slip into anonymity.
Changing my bearing was not hard. I was reared as a little no-name non-entity in Waset and only had to shed the last few months as one of the garland of the king's princesses. Clothes were a little more difficult. My fine white linen dresses would give me away instantly, so I needed a servant's utilitarian short kilt. Most girls around the palace went bare-breasted and thought nothing of it, having been reared to that condition, I suppose. I was still very conscious of my newly swelling breasts and was thankful for the concealing dresses I could wear. However, if I was going to disguise myself as a servant girl I would quickly have to learn to ignore my chest. I would need a warm cloak to shield me against the cold desert nights, so I could use that for concealment sometimes.
I found it was not easy to get a servant's kilt. I wandered down to the servant's quarters but the closer I got, the more attention I received, and people started asking me how they could help me. I couldn't very well just say I wanted a servant's kilt--or rather, I could have got one for the asking but I couldn't risk word getting back to Nefertiti or Ay. In the end I watched as the laundry was carried down to the river in great woven-rush hampers for washing and returned to the grounds behind the palace to be spread out on the grass to dry in the sun. The clothes were unguarded as nobody would seriously want to steal a low quality kilt. I grabbed one and folded it quickly, slipping it under the half-open top of my gown before hurrying back to my room.
The cloak was easier. I complained of the cold at night when I was sitting up, to the controller of bedding and he found me a lovely dark blue wool cloak with tiny embroidered scarabs around the edge. I knew as soon as I saw it that Khepri was guiding me and that I would succeed.
My plans for my escape were vague as I had no real knowledge of what lay outside the city. I could see the river and the farmland on the far side from the palace windows but the docks were hidden from view. Boats plied the waters, small sailed craft beating up against the current, triangular sails taut; or smaller ones with people working oars. I would have to steal--well, borrow really--one of those to get across the river. I wondered whether I should see if I could find one before it got dark. I dithered for a while, in reality not wanting to change into my short kilt without my concealing top. In the end, I changed quickly, tossed my wig on the bed and slipped out of the window before I could stop to think about it. Anyone seeing me would hopefully take me for a servant in my plain kilt though I could not resist fastening the coarse linen weave with a copper pin that had a tiny lapis scarab beetle attached.
I ran across the road and just missed my uncle Ay. He was striding down the road from somewhere to the north and luckily had passed the palace when I darted out. I hurried into the cover of the streets leading down to the waterfront, trying to resist the temptation of folding my arms across my chest. Nobody else seemed concerned with their nudity or mine and I gradually relaxed.
The river's edge had once been vegetated, no doubt, lined with grass and rushes and in the slower parts of the current where back-eddies rippled the clear green water, water lilies had once flourished. No more. Industry had torn the vegetation and scored the mud which was now littered with the refuse of the city. The river flowed from south to north, past the thousands in Akhet-Aten, depositing things I did not want to think about at my feet. I looked up and down the river bank, idly watching the watermen at their work, noting the presence of upturned boats on the land and others floating, tied up to mooring posts sunk into the mud. Wharves extended out into the river and large boats were tied up to them, crowds of men, mostly naked, loading and unloading boxes and bales.
I wandered up and down the bank, trying to look as if I belonged there, very conscious that a household servant had no business being idle on the riverbank. I found a small upturned boat at the southern end of the waterfront area and pushed against it, testing its weight. It moved easily, rocking, and I felt encouraged. Perhaps it wouldn't be too hard to push it into the water.
"And what would you be after, little miss?"
I jumped and spun round. A naked man, one of the laborers unloading the freight by the look of him, stood a dozen paces from me, his bale on the ground beside him, a look of curiosity on his face.
"Nothing," I said.
"Ain't nuthin' for yer round 'ere." He looked me up and down slowly, a smile appearing that turned into a grin, then a leer. "Unless yer lookin' ter makes a copper or two."
I had run naked most of my life though not since I started to become a woman, and I have seen plenty of naked men before, though not quite like this. I have been looked at too but his look made me feel naked in a way that I didn't like. His member, hanging flaccid as these things normally do, twitched, catching my attention. As if it felt my eyes on it, it grew and started to stand out. I watched, horrified, wondering what was going to happen.
"So yer likes it, little miss?" He glanced around, judging the distance to his fellow workers. "Lie dahn with me be'ind the boat, little miss, an' yer can earn a copper." He moved toward me.
I backed away, dodged around the boat, then as he came after me, laughing, ran for the shelter of the buildings. I glanced back as I entered the first street. He had not followed but was shouldering his bale and starting back toward the boats. I hurried back to the palace and made it back to my room without being accosted again.
Night made the river front an alien place. I stood on the mud with a star-emblazoned night above me, the sounds and smells of frying fish drifting from the city behind me and the heavy, oily lap of the river in front of me. As I stood there trying to pluck up the courage to move, the moon rose over the desert cliffs behind, casting a pearly glow over the river and the upturned hummocks of the boats. A rope creaked somewhere on the wharf and I heard a muffled laugh and voices. Time to go . I worked my way along the bank to the south, hoping to find the small boat I had seen earlier but things looked unfamiliar and I couldn't find it. I reached the end of the mudflat that delimited the waterfront area and was about to turn back, wondering if I should leave it another day and do some more scouting first, when I saw a small, almost circular boat attached to a mooring post about ten paces from the shore. I could even make out what I thought was an oar, poking over the side.
I lifted my small bundle of possessions--cloak, sandals, headscarf, bread, empty stoppered jug, jewelry--onto my head and stepped out into the cold water. The slimy mud between my toes made me think of eels and I prayed to Hapi not to send any my way. The river bottom fell away rapidly and by the time I was halfway to the boat, the water was wetting the hem of my kilt. I balanced my bundle with one hand and fumbled my skirt off with the other. Water swirled ove
r my waist and almost to my chest by the time I heaved my belongings into the bobbing boat. I then tried to pull myself in and met a problem. I could heave myself out of the water and half into the boat but the sides dipped alarmingly and water slopped over the edges.
Standing quietly in the water again with my hands gripping the edges of the boat, I thought about my situation. I worked my way upriver, hand over hand along the side until I was at the point where the rope attached the boat to its mooring post. Gripping the slippery wood, I clambered awkwardly upward until I was grasping the post, my hands and legs wrapped around it, my bottom just touching the water. I reached out gingerly and pulled on the rope, tugging the little craft closer. When I judged it close enough I hesitated, then pushed backward from the post, grabbing for the boat with both hands.
I fell into the boat, sending a cascade of water in over one edge. I scrambled in and lay on top of my bundle, breathing hard as the boat rocked violently, sending the stars above swaying back and forth. When the motion damped down I sat up and looked around, sure that somebody must have heard or seen me. Nothing stirred on the river bank and after a few anxious moments I rescued my bundle from the water in the bottom of the boat, propping it up out of the way. With luck, the wool would not have let too much through. My kilt was soaked though. I might just as well have kept it on.
Taking the oar in my hands, I put the blade in the water at the rear of the boat and waggled it back and forth experimentally, much as I had seen fishermen on the river do. It didn't seem too hard. Untying the rope, I pushed off from the post and the current tugged at my little craft, pulling it down toward the wharves. The oar seemed to have less effect now that the boat was free to move in the water but with a lot of splashing and sweat, I managed to ease past the wharves and the tied-up boats and out into the river.
The lights of the city fell behind me, the river front area moving steadily past as the current swept me out. I was alone on a vast expanse of still water, the lap and gurgle of the river the only sound. The glow of the rising moon washed out the stars and cast a path of gold on the water leading back to the darkened palace. I almost decided to go back but the current caught me and carried me past the cliffs and out of sight of the city. I waggled my oar, sculling it back and forth as I had seen the river men do, but I must have been doing something wrong as it seemed to have no effect. I was stuck, adrift on an endless expanse of river with no way to reach the other side. I pulled the oar back in and put my head in my hands, feeling very sorry for myself.
It seemed like hours later but it cannot have been because the moon had scarcely moved, when my little boat rocked violently. My first thought was of a crocodile, and I screamed. The rocking motion was repeated, and again, but I saw no wicked jaws, no eyes lit up like lamps or thrashing tail. Instead the surface of the water rippled over a wide area, moving faster and whispering. The boat bumped and tipped, slewing round and I gripped the sides in a panic. After a few minutes I could see the boat did not appear to be moving, though the water flowed by faster than ever. I eased my cramped fingers off the sides and picked up the oar, lowering it over the side. It touched bottom almost immediately and I knew I had grounded on a sand bank. Now, in the moonlight I could make out the dark humps of vegetation along the shore, very close. I decided to risk wading ashore, so I fastened my sodden kilt about my waist and stepped over the side. The boat, relieved of my weight, bobbed up and started to float away. I made a despairing grab for my bundle and just hooked my fingers in the cloak, yanking it overboard. I fell headlong as the boat swept away.
Spluttering and gagging I made it to the riverbank with my bedraggled bundle of possessions and collapsed on the mud, panting. A splash upriver made me think of crocodiles again so I picked up my bundle and made my way inland. I was cold, despite the warmth that came from the proximity of the river. I thought about putting my cloak on but I realized I would then be left with a number of objects to carry instead of one bundle. I hadn't planned this well.
The moon was nearly overhead now but I gauged my position by the river and headed south, hoping to see the lights of the city before too long. The going was hard, there being no tracks or paths to follow, just hillocks and hummocks of grass and a few trees. Abruptly my feet slipped from under me and I fell with a splash into shallow water. Sure I had not approached the river unknowingly; I sat up in surprise and looked around. A narrow strip of silvery water, straight-sided, led away on either side. I stared at it uncomprehendingly for several minutes until I realized it was man-made. I was sitting in an irrigation ditch.
An irrigation ditch meant farmers and farmers lived in a village. I was nearing my first destination and suddenly I was less sure of myself. Back in the palace when I came up with the plan, I imagined myself as a self-assured young princess imperiously demanding to be shown the way to Waset, then graciously handing out jewelry to grateful farmers on completion of their duty. Now that I was here I thought of how I must look--a wet, bedraggled, muddy servant girl clutching a bundle of obviously stolen goods, attempting to flee her master's service. I nearly cried again, until I thought of the plot against Akhenaten and how I must carry word of it to Smenkhkare in Waset. Steeling myself, I scrambled up the banks of the ditch and looked to the south. Faintly, I heard the sound of a dog barking, and I knew the village was near. I shouldered my bundle and set off.
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Chapter Thirty
Two thousand men of the Re and Heru Legions crouched in a shallow gully in the pre-dawn coolness of the north Sin plains looking toward the foothills where a sprinkling of camp fires betrayed the presence of the Amorites. Paatenemheb's army, though small, was seasoned and mobile. The cuts forced on him by a slashed army budget and Akhenaten's short-sighted policies had been offset to some extent by judicious pruning of the less efficient parts of the army. Although at less than half strength, the two legions comprised battle-hardened soldiers led by officers dedicated to preserving Kemet's borders. Djedhor, senior commander of the Red company of the Re Legion, had been promoted to Commander of the whole Heru Legion, while Paramessu had risen to command the Re Legion. Although he now had four companies under him--Blue, Red, Black and Green--he still wore the woven blue scarab of the Blue company on his military kilt, though his garment was now of fine white linen rather than military brown, as befitted his rank.
Amorites had been raiding the northern borders of Kemet for years but in the last six months the depredations had become extreme. Skilled in hit and run tactics the northern soldiers would roam in small mobile groups, killing and burning, then disappear into the back trails and mountain passes at the first hint of the Kemetu forces. Paatenemheb had marshaled his Legions at Avaris in the Delta before marching out to bring the Amorite army to battle. He was confident his disciplined forces could cut to pieces the Amorite rabble. With luck, Aziru son of Abdiashirta would be leading his forces and he could rid Kemet of one of its worst enemies. He longed for the day he would have Aziru's bloody head on a spear.
The gray clouds in the east turned to pink and the sky lightened, washing out the last of the stars and rendering the campfires inconspicuous, though thin smoke trails flew from some of them. Paramessu stood with Djedhor on a low knoll to the right of the ranks of soldiers, staring out over the plain.
"Nice and simple," Djedhor growled. "Forget these fancy tactics. Just give me a good straightforward set piece and I'll wipe them from the face of the earth."
"You'll have your chance," Paramessu observed. "Minmose and the General will be in those hills ready to sweep down on them. With luck they'll panic them right out onto the flat where we can get at them."
"I don't know why we couldn't just challenge them to a battle in a civilized fashion," Djedhor grumbled. "Instead of chasing them all over Sin and Syria, herding them like so many cattle."
"We had to get them together," Paramessu explained, though he was sure Djedhor already knew the answer. "Otherwise it's just like trying to catch du
cks with hand nets. A lot of work for very little result. This way we have herded them together and we can crush them like an egg between the General's hammer and our anvil."
The sun rose, pushing its way up through a low bank of clouds. As colour returned to the land, the breeze turned, shifting from the north to the north-east, bringing with it the faint sounds of battle, metal on metal and men's cries.
"General Paatenemheb has engaged the enemy," Paramessu said softly.
"And there they come." Djedhor pointed, a wolfish grin splitting his otherwise dour features. A dark stain spread down from the foothills and onto the level ground, resolving itself into streams of fleeing men as it came closer. "Why don't they turn and fight?" he said. "Are they all cowards?"
"They will fight," Paramessu predicted. "They flee the enemy behind but when they become aware of our presence they will stand."
"It will be a slaughter," Djedhor grinned. "Re and Heru lie in front of them and Ptah harries from behind. Not only are they outnumbered but they are caught between the very jaws of Set."
"Hardly seems fair, does it? There's only a thousand of them and nearly three thousand of us."
"Who wants fair?" Djedhor snarled. "Give me the opportunity to kill Kemet's enemies."
Paramessu judged the distance to the front ranks of the Amorites, mentally pacing off the distance to the Kemetu soldiers crouched unseen in the gully that lay across the enemy's line of retreat. "I think it is time to join our men." Together they descended from the knoll and bending double to stay out of sight, ran to their places at the forefront of their troops.
"Get ready, Re Legion." Paramessu counted off the seconds, estimating the proximity of the approaching Amorites. "Steady, men, steady." He glanced toward Djedhor and nodded. Djedhor, as senior officer, had the honour and right to call the attack, but being a sensible if somewhat violent man, he allowed his fellow legion commander to exercise his own tactical talents.