Desert God

by Wilbur Smith

  A long column of trotting infantry burst out of the mouth of the passageway that led from the palisade wall of the camp to the head of the pontoon bridge. Four abreast the Cretans charged out on to the narrow bridge, and it heaved and rocked under the stamping of their metal-studded sandals.

  Swiftly the enemy front rank bore down upon our wrecking team, which was revealed by the glare of the torches. Still the mooring ropes between the pontoons resisted the axe-blows of my men. When only fifty paces separated them I heard one of the officers who led the charge shout an order. I did not understand the language, but the meaning was immediately clear.

  Without checking their rush along the causeway the leading Cretan infantrymen heaved back and then hurled a volley of spears. The heavy missiles fell amongst the team of my men who were still hacking at the bindings that held together the line of longboats. I saw a javelin strike one of my fellows in the back and transfix him so that the point emerged a good yard from his chest. He toppled over the side of the longboat on which he was balancing and was sucked down into the black waters. None of his comrades even glanced up from their task. Grimly they continued swinging their axes at the hempen ropes that bound the pontoons together.

  I heard a sharp report as a rope parted, and then the grinding and crackling of timbers of the hulls bearing against each other as more of the lines holding the longboats together gave way.

  Then at last the bridge was cleaved asunder. But the two disjointed halves were still held together by our own ship which was strung between them. I found myself screaming wildly at my axe-men to come back on board. Of course I was not troubled for my own safety. My only concern was for the safety of my brave lads.

  The torrent of armoured Cretans came on unchecked over the pontoons. They rushed at us in a solid phalanx, bellowing their challenges and hurling their javelins. My own men were scrambling back into our little boat and cowering down as the missiles slammed into the timbers of our hull.

  Now I was shouting for someone to sever the ropes that still locked our vessel into the centre of the bridge. In the uproar my orders were drowned out. I could not make myself heard. I grabbed an axe from one of my men who was crouching in the bilges and ran to the bows.

  A Cretan came at me down the causeway. Both of us reached the bows at the same time. He had thrown his javelin and was struggling to unsheathe his sword which seemed to be jammed in its scabbard. It came free as we met each other.

  I could see that he was grinning under his helmet. He thought that he had me at his mercy and that he was about to kill me. He drew back his sword and aimed a thrust at my chest, but I had seen his eyes move, signalling his intention, so I was able to anticipate the blow. I twisted my body and the point of his sword flew under my armpit. I locked my arm over his elbow.

  Now I had him fully extended. He tried to pull free, but the causeway heaved under him, throwing him off balance. At that critical moment I released the lock I had on his sword-arm. He was unprepared for that, and he tottered backwards, extending both arms towards me as he tried to regain his balance.

  I swung my axe, aiming at the only part of his body that was not covered with metal: the wrist of his sword-hand. I was also unbalanced in the rocking and heaving boat, so it was not a perfect stroke. It did not sever his sword-hand cleanly, as I intended. But it slashed down to the bone on the inside of his wrist. I heard the tendons pop as they parted. His fingers opened involuntarily and the sword fell from them and rattled on the planks of the bridge. He reeled backwards into one of his companions who was crowding up behind him. Clinging to each other the two of them went over the side of the bridge and hit the surface of the water with a tall splash. The weight of their armour dragged them under immediately.

  The axe was still in my hands and the two mooring lines that secured the bows of our ship to the pontoon bridge were stretched in front of me so tightly that the water was spurting out of the twists of the rope. I lifted the axe above my head and then swung down, aiming it at the thicker of the two ropes, putting all my weight and power into this stroke. The rope parted with a snap like a bowstring. Our boat canted over sharply as the full weight was thrown on to the single, thinner rope. I swung again and that rope jumped apart, twisting and unravelling in mid-air. The bows of our boat bobbed up as the weight and drag were taken off them, and we swung free across the current.

  The effect on the bridge was far more dramatic. Each of the segments of the bridge was still firmly attached to their moorings on the river-banks. However, in the middle of the channel they were no longer bound together and the current snatched them apart swiftly. I watched as the dense pack of Cretans was thrown about by the causeway bobbing and lunging wildly under their feet.

  Their shifting weight intensified the instability of the floating pontoons. Men in heavy armour lost their balance and staggered about drunkenly, barging into each other, throwing each other overboard.

  I watched in horror as one of the pontoons capsized and a score of men were hurled over the side. Within minutes the greater part of the Cretan horde was struggling in the dark waters and drowning like rats in the bottom of a well.

  What made it more tragic for me was that these were not even our enemies; all this destruction I had deliberately engineered to trick them into becoming our allies. It gave me very little consolation to know that I had done this for my very Egypt and for my Pharaoh. I was appalled by the consequences of my actions.

  Then, with an enormous effort of will, I thrust aside my guilt and remorse. I knew what had been done could not be undone. I tried to put the drowned men out of my mind and thought instead about my own people and the losses that we had suffered. I forced myself to turn away, and pushed my way back to where I cut the line that held us attached. I was shouting at my crew, taking out my anger on them. Roaring at them to take up their oars again, shoving them back to the rowing benches, kicking and slapping those who hesitated in bewilderment.

  At last I had the steering-oar in my hands again and the men were beginning to pull in unison. I put the helm over and steered us back towards the stone wharf under the main gate of the fort where the treasure ships were moored.

  I jumped from our little boat as soon as the bows touched the stone steps of the wharf, and Zaras was there to meet me, sword in hand and panting with exertion but grinning like an idiot.

  ‘We have captured all three of the treasure ships, and even the fort is ours!’ he told me as he pointed with his bloodstained blade at the gates of the fort, which stood wide open. ‘The uproar you created at the pontoon bridge was a fine distraction. We cut down the guards at the fort while they were still watching your performance, and totally unaware of our existence. I don’t think that any of them escaped, but even if they have they won’t get very far.’ He paused to catch his breath and then demanded, ‘How did it go with you at the bridge, Taita?’ I was pleased to hear that even in the heat of battle and victory he was remembering to speak Hyksosian.

  ‘The bridge is down and half the enemy were thrown into the river and drowned,’ I told him curtly, and then I turned to Akemi, who had run up when he saw me come ashore. ‘Take command of this boat and keep a dozen men with you to row.’ I pointed to the cluster of small unmanned craft anchored in the basin formed by the sweep of the river. ‘Take with you torches and fire-pots and burn those boats, before the Cretans can get their hands on them and use them to ferry their men across to attack us again tonight.’

  ‘At once, my lord,’ Akemi replied.

  ‘Keep only the largest of them,’ I went on. ‘That big lugger at the end of the line. Don’t burn that one. Bring it back here and we will leave it tied up at the wharf when we depart.’

  Both Akemi and Zaras looked at me askance; however, it was Zaras who dared to question my orders. ‘Leave it for the Cretans? Why would we want to do that?’

  ‘We want to do that so the senior Cretan officers are able to sail back to Crete with all despatch and warn their king of the treachery of his Hykso
s allies. Even the mighty Minos of Crete will be sorely hurt by the loss of five hundred lakhs of his silver. When he receives the news, he will thirst for King Beon’s blood.’

  I waited on the wharf and watched Akemi and his crew pull away from the wharf, heading back into the basin of the river. I saw him transfer four of his men into the big lugger. They set a jib sail and brought her back to the wharf below where I stood.

  Out in the basin Akemi stood in the bows of our little boat. His men rowed him along the line of anchored boats and Akemi hurled a flaming torch into each of them as he passed. Only when all of them were burning fiercely was I satisfied. I went back to find Zaras in the confusion.

  ‘Bring these men with you, and come with me,’ I told him, and I ran down the stone wharf to where the nearest Cretan trireme was moored. ‘I want you to take command of this ship, Zaras. But I will sail with you.’

  ‘Of course, master,’ he answered. ‘Some of my men are already aboard her.’

  ‘Dilbar will captain that one.’ I pointed at the second trireme. ‘And Akemi will take the third Minoan treasure ship.’

  ‘As you command, master.’ It seemed that Zaras had promoted me from plain Taita to master. However, he was still sufficiently familiar with me to ask impudent questions. This he did immediately.

  ‘Once we are out in the open sea, in which direction will we sail? Will we head east for Sumeria or west for the Mauretanian coast?’ Then he even condescended to offer me a little fatherly advice. ‘We have allies in both those countries. In the east there is King Nimrod, the ruler of the Land of the Two Rivers. In the west we have a treaty with King Shan Daki of Anfa in Mauretania. Which of them will it be, Taita?’

  I did not reply to him immediately. Instead I asked my own question. ‘Tell me, Zaras, which king or ruler in the entire world would you trust with a treasure of five hundred lakhs of silver?’

  Zaras looked bemused. He had not thought about that. ‘Perhaps … well, certainly not Shan Daki. His people are corsairs, and he is the King of Thieves.’

  ‘What about Nimrod?’ I suggested. ‘I am not certain I would trust him with a piece of silver larger than my thumb.’

  ‘We have to trust somebody,’ he protested, ‘unless we find a deserted beach and bury the silver on it, until we can return to reclaim it?’

  ‘Five hundred lakhs!’ I reminded him. ‘It would take a year to dig a pit deep enough, and a mountain of sand to cover it.’ I was enjoying his confusion. ‘The wind favours us!’ I looked up at the Minoan ensign, the golden bull of Crete, which still flew at the masthead of the trireme I had allotted to him. ‘And the gods always favour the bold and the brave.’

  ‘No, Taita,’ he contradicted me. ‘The wind does not favour us. It is blowing in from the sea, directly up the channel. It is pinning us against the land. It will take all our oars to get us out into the open waters of the Middle Sea. If you trust neither Shan Daki nor Nimrod whom then do you trust? To whom should we turn?’

  ‘I trust only Pharaoh Tamose,’ I told him, and he let his frustration with me show for the first time.

  ‘So is your plan to return to Pharaoh by the same route we followed here? Shall we carry the treasure on our heads from Ushu through the Sinai Desert, and swim with it across the Red Sea? From there it will only be a short walk to reach Thebes. Pharaoh will be surprised to see you; of that you can be sure,’ he scoffed at me.

  ‘No, Zaras.’ I smiled back at him indulgently. ‘From here we are going to sail south down the Nile. We are going to sail all three of these Cretan monsters and the silver in their holds directly back to Thebes.’

  ‘Have you gone mad, Taita?’ He stopped laughing. ‘Beon commands every yard of the Nile from here as far as Asyut. We can’t sail three hundred leagues through the Hyksos hordes. That really is madness.’ In his agitation he had switched back from Hyksosian into Egyptian.

  ‘If you speak Hyksosian anything and everything is possible!’ I contradicted and rebuked him. ‘Anyway, we have already scuttled two of our boats and I am going to burn the third before we leave Tamiat, just to make certain that we leave no traces of our true identity behind us.’

  ‘In the name of the great mother Osiris and her beloved son Horus, I think that you really believe what you are saying, Taita.’ He started to grin again. ‘And your plan is to drive me as frothing-at-the-mouth mad as you already are, so that in my madness I will agree with you. Is that it?’

  ‘In battle, madness becomes sanity. It is the only way to survive. Follow me, Zaras. I am taking you home.’ I started up the gangplank to the deck of the trireme. There were twenty of Zaras’ men there before me. I saw that they already had control of the ship and every man aboard her. On the deck the Cretan crew were kneeling in a row with their heads bowed and their arms pinioned behind their backs; most of them were bleeding from fresh wounds. There were only six of them. Zaras’ men stood over them with drawn swords.

  ‘Good work, lads.’ I gave them encouragement. Then I turned back to Zaras. ‘Now, have your men strip the uniforms and armour from the prisoners, and send them ashore under guard.’ While he gave the orders, I ran down the companion ladder to the upper rowing deck. The benches were unmanned and the long oars were shipped. But I had fifty of my own men to fill them again. With barely a pause I dived down the next companionway that led to the lower slave deck. The reek came up to meet me. It was so powerful that I gasped, but I kept on down.

  There were smoky oil lamps burning in the brackets set in the low roof which gave just enough light for me to make out the ranks of almost naked bodies crouching on the rowing benches or resting their heads on the long oars in front of them as they slept. Those of them who were awake looked up at me with blank and incurious eyes. As they moved the chains on their ankles clanked.

  I had thought to make a little speech to them, perhaps offering them their freedom once we reached Thebes if they would row strong and long. But I abandoned this idea as I realized that they were only partly human. They had been reduced to the level of the beasts by their vile durance and cruel treatment. My kindly words would mean nothing to them. The only thing they still understood was the lash.

  Almost doubled over to save my head from striking the low upper deck I ran aft down the walkway between the slave benches until I reached the door that I was certain would lead into the cargo hold. There was a heavy brass lock on the door. Zaras followed me closely. I stood aside and let him prise the lock loose with his sword and kick the door open.

  Then I lifted one of the oil lamps from its bracket and held it high as I entered the commodious cargo hold. The chests of silver bullion were stacked from deck to deck. However, there was a large and gaping hole in the centre of the pile. I made a quick estimate of the number of the precious chests that had already been taken ashore by the Cretans. I reckoned it to be a hundred at the very least.

  For a craven moment I considered abandoning that small part of the treasure and sailing away with what we had on board, but then I thrust the thought aside.

  While the gods are smiling, Taita, take full advantage before they frown again, I told myself, and I turned back to Zaras. ‘Come with me. Bring as many men as you can spare.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  I pointed to the empty space in the stack of chests. ‘We are going to the fort to find where the Cretans have stored those missing chests. There is enough silver in those alone to equip an entire army and to place them in the battlefield. We must prevent any part of it falling into Beon’s hands.’

  We hurried back to the deck, and then Zaras followed me down the gangplank to the wharf. Ten of his men came behind us, bringing the captured Cretan sailors with them. They had stripped them naked. Inside the gates of the fort we found Dilbar and thirty of his men guarding the men and slaves that they had captured ashore.

  I ordered Dilbar to strip these captives also. I needed as many of the Cretan uniforms and as much of their armour as we could find. The Minoan officers all wore neckla
ces, rings, armlets and wristlets of silver and gold and precious stones.

  ‘Take those from the prisoners also,’ I instructed Dilbar. I picked out two of the more exceptional pieces of jewellery from the pile and slipped them into my leather pouch. Like most women my two princesses do so love pretty and shiny trinkets.

  I turned my attention to the captured slaves, who stood stolidly in their chains. I saw at once that although they were a mixed bag, which included Libyans, Hurrians and Sumerians, the majority were Egyptians. In all probability they had been captured by the Hyksos and handed over to the Cretans to help them build the fort. I picked out one of them, who had an intelligent face and who seemed not yet to have succumbed to despair.

  ‘Take that one into the next chamber,’ I ordered Dilbar, and he grabbed the Egyptian and dragged him into the antechamber of the fort. There I told him to leave us. When he had gone, I stared at the slave in silence for a while. His attitude was one of resignation but I saw the defiance in his eyes that he was trying to conceal.

  Good! I thought. He is still a man.

  At last I spoke to him softly in our own sweet language. ‘You are an Egyptian.’ He started and I saw he had understood me. ‘What regiment?’ I asked him but he shrugged, feigning incomprehension. He looked down at his own feet.

  ‘Look at me!’ I ordered him and I removed my bronze helmet and unwound the silken cloth that covered the lower half of my face. ‘Look at me!’ I repeated.

  He lifted his head and started with surprise.

  ‘Who am I?’ I asked.

  ‘You are Taita. I saw you at Luxor in the Temple of Hathor when I was a child. My father told me you were one of the greatest living Egyptians,’ he whispered in awe, and then he threw himself at my feet. I was moved by this show of veneration, but I kept my voice stern.

  ‘Yes, soldier. I am Taita. Who are you?’

  ‘I am Rohim of the Twenty-sixth Charioteers. I was captured by the Hyksos swine five years ago.’