by Wilbur Smith
She reached into her sleeve. When she brought out her hand it was closed into a fist. She held it tantalizingly in front of my face.
‘I would trust you with anything else that I have, except this.’
She opened her hand and the famous diamond ring lay in her palm.
‘When I return it shall be on my finger, and I shall never remove it again. It will always be the symbol of my love for Zaras. Even if my duty forces me to relinquish him forever, this ring will remain with me to remind me of him.’
She and Zaras left within the hour. They pressed their mounts so urgently towards the south that their bodyguard had fallen back half a league behind them as they disappeared over a distant dune.
I felt only a little guilty at this flagrant dereliction of my duty. However, my guilt was overshadowed by my elation that I felt at having been able to grant this fleeting interlude of happiness to two young people so very dear to me.
I had not expected the two of them to hurry back from Miyah Keiv to rejoin the caravan. They did not disappoint me. We waited at Zaynab Oasis for almost a week before the two of them finally reappeared.
As they dismounted outside my command tent Tehuti whispered to Zaras, ‘Wait here. I must speak to him alone.’
They were in bright sunlight so they did not see me watching them from the shadows of the tent. I was able to read Tehuti’s lips without her being aware of it.
She ran to the opening of my tent. As I came to meet her, she let out a soft cry of joy and she rushed into my open arms. While we embraced I realized that in the short time since I had last seen her she had been transmuted miraculously from childhood to full womanhood; from dross to royal gold.
‘Did you find what you went to seek?’ I asked without releasing her.
‘Oh, yes I did.’ She held up her hand in front of me. The diamond sparkled at me, but not as brightly as her eyes. ‘I love this. But I love the other treasure that I found in the cavern much more dearly.’
‘I don’t think we should discuss that,’ I interrupted her hastily, and stepped back from her embrace. ‘I don’t want to hear about it.’
‘But I am going to tell you everything; every tiny detail; because it is the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me.’ She spoke with utter sincerity.
I looked out through the tent opening. Poor Zaras was still standing there with a hangdog aspect; very much like a small boy who had been caught in the orchard stealing apples and was expecting a beating for it. I let the subject pass without belabouring it further.
I was so close in spirit to Tehuti that a little of her ecstatic mood seemed to be transferred to me; and from me to all the others in the company.
The encampment became a happy place filled with smiles and laughter. However, I was pleasantly surprised with how discreet Tehuti and Zaras were in perpetuating their romance. I think that I was probably the only one who knew that it was happening. Even Bekatha, who lets very little pass her by, seemed to be unaware. I was content with and even proud of my decision to be the guardian of their love rather than the impediment to it. I was poignantly reminded how so long ago I had filled the same role for Tehuti’s father and mother.
Our stay at Zaynab Oasis was too short for all of us. We had to move on. Week after week we followed the tracks that Remrem and his party had left across the magnificent wilderness. Like no other place in the world the desert has a beauty and grandeur that calms the frantic heart and brings us closer to our gods. This was one of the most memorable and satisfying periods of my life.
But with each march northwards we drew closer to Lord Remrem and his column until finally we caught up with him and joined our forces with his. This was all part of my carefully laid plans, and the reunion took place when we were only forty leagues south of the Euphrates, although there was no indication that such a mighty river lay so close ahead of us. We were still surrounded by barren rock-strewn hills and dusty sun-scorched valleys.
Our one-eyed guide, Al Namjoo, had brought us to the final oasis before we reached the river. This was a place named Khrus. Here there was a cluster of some fifteen wells, all of them delivering good sweet water. This supply supported a populous village and an extensive plantation of date palms and other agriculture. There was sufficient water available to support even the large numbers of men and animals in our caravan for a short time.
No sooner had we encamped than Al Namjoo came to me with an even more lugubrious expression than the one that usually decorated his ugly visage.
‘Revered Lord Taita!’ He bowed before me. I had learned that since the execution of his treacherous son such obsequious behaviour usually heralded an outrageous request or some particularly unpleasant and pessimistic announcement. ‘From here the caravan route to the town of Ur of the Chaldees on the Euphrates River is well travelled, and clearly marked. The river is close by. It would not be possible for you to go astray,’ he told me.
‘In that case you will have no difficulty in guiding us to Ur, in accordance with our agreement, will you, Al Namjoo?’
‘Mighty Lord Taita, I beg your understanding and compassion. I dare not enter the town of Ur. It would be more than my wretched life is worth. I have blood enemies there. These Akkadians are vindictive and dangerous people. I pray you to release me and let me return south to Zuba, there to mourn my eldest son.’ He squeezed a tear from his empty eye socket. It was not a pleasing sight to watch.
‘Of course you wish me to pay you the full amount for your hire that we agreed upon?’ I asked, and he dropped to his knees and plucked tufts of curling hair from his beard.
‘You are my father and my master. The choice is yours, but I am a poor man. I have to care for my son Haroun’s widow and all her offspring. The fates have been unkind to me.’
I listened to the catalogue of his woes while I considered his request. I could not disregard the fact that he was the father of a treacherous son, and that a son is cast in the same mould as his sire. On the other hand I had forced him to kill his own son. Did that not pay off the debt? I asked myself. Perhaps he had suffered enough?
I am a kind and generous man by nature, but perhaps this is more a fault than a virtue. I shrugged and told him, ‘You have done good work for me, Al Namjoo. You may go with my blessing.’ I opened my purse and took two silver mem coins from it. These I dropped into his cupped palms. Then I allowed him to kiss my feet and depart.
Four days later I stood on the low hills above Ur of the Chaldees and looked down on the town and on the green Euphrates River for the first time. I was chagrined to realize that the river was wider than our Mother Nile, which until that time I had never doubted was the greatest river in the world.
The Euphrates’ banks were heavily forested for as far as I was able to see in both directions. Large fields of agriculture had been hewn out of the forest. After the harsh desert landscape through which we had travelled for so long such an expanse of lush greenery was a delight to my eyes. On the river-bank below where I stood sprawled the city of Ur. At its centre was a large ziggurat, a temple dedicated to the goddess Ishtar, the principal deity of the Sumerian and Akkadian people. This one was a pyramid-shaped building with five terraces of receding size banked one on top of the other. Not only was it a temple, but it served as a refuge for the priests and priestesses when the river burst its banks and inundated the city and its surroundings.
We started down the road into the city. I rode at the head of our column with Lord Remrem and the princesses, and before we reached the foot of the hills a procession of priests and priestesses emerged from the main gate in the city wall of dried red mud-bricks, and came to meet us.
Although Babylon was still 120 leagues further upstream, I had not wanted to arrive in the capital city of King Nimrod immediately after completing the desert crossing. I wanted to impress the Sumerians with our wealth and pomp. In our present travel-worn condition we looked more like desert Bedouin than the representatives of one of the greatest and most prosperous nati
ons on earth.
As the procession approached I recognized Lord Phat Tur walking at the head of it between the high priest and priestess from the temple. Phat Tur was the Egyptian ambassador to Sumeria. He and I had known each other since long before he had left Thebes to take up his present post. He was a diligent and reliable official, so I was confident that the preparations for our arrival in Babylon had been well taken care of. I dismounted to greet him warmly and then as we walked together back to the city gates we chatted together as old friends.
‘As you requested, Taita, I have chartered ten large comfortable river barges to carry you, the princesses and the senior members of your delegation upstream to Babylon, as soon as you are ready to travel. Naturally I will accompany you. But in the meantime I respectfully suggest that the greater part of your caravan should travel ahead of you by road to Babylon, to await your arrival there.’
By the time we had settled into the accommodation that Phat Tur had arranged for us in the great ziggurat the sun was setting. I left the princesses and their women to unpack all the finery that they had brought with them from Thebes. At last they were able to begin the primping and preening in preparation for their arrival at the court of King Nimrod in Babylon.
I had explained to the royal ladies just how important it was that they make a grand showing to impress His Majesty King Nimrod as well as the Cretan ambassador, who would report it all to his master, the Supreme Minos in Crete.
I dined that evening with Phat Tur and Remrem. We sat out on the wide terrace of the ziggurat under the panoply of stars, and indulged our appetites on huge golden river perch as long as my arm, which had been netted that morning in the Euphrates. We washed the luscious pink flesh down with several flagons of a pleasant red wine from the vineyards that grew along the river-bank.
Once we had eaten we were able to turn our full attention to my grand plan for prosecuting the war against the Hyksos to its ultimate conclusion.
‘As you well know, it is my intention to inveigle both King Nimrod and the Supreme Minos into a military coalition with our beloved Pharaoh. Once we have achieved that, then we will have King Gorrab laid out on the anvil with three great hammers pounding him into annihilation.’
‘As always your choice of words is captivating but not particularly edifying, my good Taita. I am not entirely clear as to who is the anvil and who are the hammers that you speak of so eloquently,’ Remrem demurred. I sighed inwardly. Sometimes conversation with Remrem is rather like taking a cripple up the mountain. He has to be helped every step of the way.
‘You must forgive me. I was using a metaphor. I should have made myself clearer. The Sahara is the anvil, and the armies of Crete, Sumeria and our Egypt are the hammers.’
‘Then what you might have said was that we would have Gorrab surrounded,’ Remrem lectured me pedantically. ‘Your reference to hammers and anvils was somewhat confusing. Plain speech is always preferable, don’t you think?’
‘Indubitably; and I am grateful to you, my lord, for your scholarly advice,’ I replied with such restraint that I surprised even myself. ‘However, the point that I was trying to make was that neither Crete nor Sumeria are as committed to the struggle against the Hyksos as we are.’ With relief I switched my attention from Remrem to Phat Tur. ‘I would very much like to hear your views on King Nimrod’s position. Perhaps you might be able to enlighten us further.’
Phat Tur inclined his head in acquiescence. ‘I was eagerly waiting for this opportunity to meet you face to face, and to explain matters to you more fully than was ever possible by messages carried on the leg of a pigeon. Of course you know that Nimrod inherited the crown from his father King Marduk who died fourteen years ago.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘I know all that.’
‘The last thirty years of Marduk’s reign were spent in rebuilding Babylon, and transforming it into the most beautiful and splendid city in creation.’
‘I had indeed heard that Marduk had undertaken some extensive works. However, I doubt that Babylon can ever match the splendour of Thebes.’
‘Then I think you have a surprise in store for you.’ Phat Tur smiled. ‘It is generally believed that King Marduk spent over six hundred lakhs of silver on the project. What is certain is that he stripped the treasury bare in the process of carrying through this obsession of his.’
I stared at him in amazement. It took me some little time before I could frame my reply. ‘I was led to believe that Sumeria was as rich, if not richer than Crete?’ I shook my head doubtfully.
‘Yes. That is what most people think. I have been living in Babylon for the last five years and at first I also believed the myth of the great wealth of Sumeria. It is only very recently that I learned the truth. King Nimrod does not have sufficient funds to pay his own ministers. His civil service is in tatters. His army is crippled by lack of weapons and equipment. His troops are deserting in droves because he cannot pay them. He could not possibly mount an offensive against the Hyksos, even though he is fully aware that by not doing so he places his country in deadly jeopardy.’
Both Remrem and I stared at him speechlessly.
Remrem’s expression was stricken. I knew that he was seeing our entire project crumbling to dust. He had been certain that Nimrod of Sumeria would make us a powerful ally. Phat Tur was busily destroying that hope.
On the other hand I was elated. For me the way forward was now clear. Nimrod was insolvent. He was losing his army and his country. He must be desperate. I had almost ten lakhs of silver hidden under the false floorboards of my wagons and in the saddlebags of my camels, and hundreds of lakhs more piled up in Pharaoh’s treasury in the Valley of the Kings. King Nimrod and Sumeria belonged to us. I would be able to dictate our own price. Nimrod dared not refuse me.
I had my first hammer in my hand, despite Remrem’s quibbling and nitpicking at my choice of words. My other hammer was waiting for me on the island of Crete. The price for it in silver was minimal, but the price in misery and heartbreak might prove extortionate.
The following morning I woke in elated spirits when my head slave, Rustie, brought my breakfast and with it a silver tumbler of my favourite wine. I diluted the wine with rose-water and sipped it as I paced the terrace looking down on the mighty river which has been a focus of history since the beginning of time.
Despite my recently acquired intelligence as to King Nimrod’s impecunious state, the magnificent vista of river and distant snow-capped mountains laid out before me and the exquisite wine in my cup, I felt my mood evaporating. I knew that there was something important that I was overlooking, but like a mosquito buzzing around my head it was eluding me and though I tried I could not swat it down.
I took another turn around the terrace and then I stopped in mid-stride with my right foot in the air. Rustie was staring at me in alarm. ‘Is there aught amiss, master?’ he demanded.
I lowered my foot to the paving. ‘Nothing that cannot be dealt with,’ I assured him. I went to my writing table and dashed off a few words on a scrap of papyrus. I folded and sealed it and handed it to Rustie. ‘Please take this to Her Royal Highness Princess Tehuti at once; and make sure you deliver it into her hand. Then go to the head groom and tell him I want two of his best horses saddled and waiting in the yard. I will be there immediately, if not sooner. I do not want to be kept waiting.’ Rustie fled to do my bidding.
What I needed to do could not be done within the ziggurat. I had no doubt that there were hidden rooms built into the stone walls, and secret windows and listening posts manned by minions of King Nimrod or at the very least those of the high priest. I could well imagine with what glee they would report to their masters the fact that I was purveying over-ripe fruit.
I drained the rest of the wine in my cup with much less ceremony than it deserved and hurried to my room to don my riding cloak. Then I went down to the stables in the rear of the ziggurat. Tehuti kept me waiting less than half an hour, but when she came she was gay and laughing. Her lovely
face was aglow with happiness and high spirits, and a new and delicate beauty which had never been there before. She ran to embrace me and stood on tiptoe to whisper in my ear.
‘Rustie says you have a surprise for me. That’s why I was not to tell the other girls that I was going to meet you.’ She laughed in my face. ‘Tell me! Tell me! You know that I cannot abide secrets, my darling Tata …’
‘Let us go where we can be alone.’ Despite her insistence that she would curl up and die with the suspense, I boosted her into the saddle, and then galloped ahead of her down to the bank of the River Euphrates. When I rode on to the towpath I slowed my mount to a walk and let Tehuti come up alongside me.
‘How can you be so cruel? I know you have a gift for me. I swear by my love for Osiris that I cannot bear your torture another moment.’
‘This time I have no present for you. All I have is a simple little question. How long is it since you and Zaras returned from the pool of Miyah Keiv?’
‘Oh, that is an easy one. It is forty-three days and …’ She glanced up at the sun to gauge its height. ‘… and about seven hours.’
I nodded without smiling. ‘And since then have you missed anything?’
‘Oh, no! See! I still have my magical ring.’ She held out her hand towards me, and the diamond on her finger sparkled almost as brightly as her eyes.
I did not return her smile but looked into those lovely eyes expressionlessly. After a short period of my silence the joy that suffused her features faded, and was replaced by an expression of confusion, until suddenly she realized exactly where my questions were leading her. She dropped her eyes from mine.
‘You forgot to tell me, didn’t you, Tehuti?’ My tone was remorseless, unforgiving. ‘You have missed your red moon by almost a month; and you tried to hide that fact from me; even though you had given me your word.’
‘I did not seek to deceive you,’ she whispered. ‘I just wanted to keep my baby alive inside me for a very little longer. I would have told you, Tata, truly I would have.’