Desert God

by Wilbur Smith

  Notwithstanding its large size the aurochs was essentially a cow, and cows are placid animals. I was about to take Waaga sharply to task when suddenly he screamed. Coming from his mangled throat and mouth the sound was so unexpected that I was startled and distracted.

  His horse shied into mine so violently that if my reaction had not been instantaneous I would have been thrown from the saddle. I recovered my seat and snarled at him. But he was gibbering with terror and pointing into the undergrowth above the path that we were following.

  ‘Calm yourself, idiot!’ I yelled at him and then I broke off as I picked out the massive dark shape looming in the thicket above us. At first glance I had thought it was part of the rock formation of the mountain itself. But then it moved and the image jumped into sharp focus.

  This was veritably a living animal.

  My horse stood sixteen hands tall at the withers, but I found myself forced to lean back in the saddle and look up into the eyes of this creature. Those eyes were enormous. They fixed upon mine in a dark and infernal stare. The creature’s huge bell-shaped ears were pricked forward, harkening to Waaga’s cries. Its back was humped like that of a camel. Its horns were spread wide as the span of both my outstretched arms. They were thick and sharp-pointed as the tusks of an elephant that I had seen in Pharaoh’s palace in Thebes.

  This was no placid cud-chewing cow. I registered my amazement with a shout that matched Waaga’s for volume.

  The creature lowered its head, presenting us with those murderously pointed horns, and at the same time it pawed the ground with its front hooves, throwing clods of soft forest loam over its back. Then it launched itself down the slope like an avalanche, crashing through the undergrowth, its eyes still fixed on me.

  I was trapped on the narrow pathway, with no escape route and no space in which to turn or manoeuvre. Nor did I have time to draw my sword or string my bow.

  Waaga’s steed panicked and tried to bolt for safety, and it carried its rider full into the path of the aurochs’ charge. But even in face of looming death the little man managed an incredible act of courage. His woollen chlamys was rolled into a ball and strapped to the pommel of his saddle. He ripped it free and with a snap of his wrist spread it like a banner. Then he whipped it over the head of the bull. I will never know if it had been his intention, but the cloak hooked in the lowered horns and wrapped around the bull’s head, blindfolding the beast completely.

  Even having lost sight of the horse and rider, the bull hooked instinctively at them with its massive rack of horn. I saw the point of one horn enter Waaga’s chest below his right armpit, and transfix him completely. It emerged from the opposite side of his body, bursting out through his rib cage.

  The bull tossed its head and Waaga’s body was hurled high in the air. Still blinded, the bull hooked again and this time he struck the horse, knocking it to its knees.

  By now the bull was completely disorientated. It blundered around in the shrubbery, crashing into the tree trunks, trying to rid itself of the cloak which was still wrapped around its head and horns.

  Waaga had won me a precious moment of respite in which to kick my feet out of the carved wooden stirrups and drop from the saddle to the ground. My bow was already in my hand and I restrung it in a single movement.

  The quiver was still tied to my saddle but I always carried two loose arrows tucked into my belt for just such a situation as this. I nocked one of these and drew, holding for moment against the immense strain of the recurved ash stock.

  The bull must have heard or scented me. It switched its great body around, facing towards me. It was still swinging its head from side to side, trying either to place me or throw off the chlamys that was still tangled around its horns. I waited until this movement opened his right shoulder and exposed the front of his chest. Then I released. It was such short range that the arrow generated immense speed and penetration. It disappeared completely into the bull’s chest cavity, leaving only a small external wound from which a spurt of bright heart blood pumped.

  My second arrow struck a finger higher but on the same line. The bull staggered back on to its hindquarters before wheeling away and crashing blindly into the undergrowth. I listened to it tearing down the steep slope of the mountain. Moments later it went down. I heard its carcass strike the ground with a weighty thump. Then I heard it thrashing about in the bushes, its back legs kicking out spasmodically. At the end it let out a mournful death bellow that echoed off the cliffs.

  It took me only a moment to gather my wits and still my shaking hands. Then I went first to where Waaga was lying. At a glance I saw that he had been gutted like a fresh-caught tuna. Blood spurted from the gaping wound, but even as I knelt beside him the flow shrivelled away. His eyes were fixed wide open but the pupils had turned up into his skull, and his mouth had fallen open. He was beyond any help that I could afford him.

  His horse was down beside him. The poor beast had been gored in the throat. Through the pierced windpipe the air bubbled from its lungs. In addition I could see that its right foreleg was broken; jagged shards of the cannon bone protruded through the skin. I stood over it and drew my sword. I chopped down between its ears into the brain, killing it instantly.

  The string of remounts was still anchored to the saddle of Waaga’s dead horse. I led them to the nearest tree and hitched them to it. Then I went to find my own mount and string. They had not gone far and I found them grazing in the nearest clearing in the forest. I led them back to where I had left the others and hitched them to the same tree.

  When all was secured, I slipped and slithered down the slope to where the aurochs lay. I circled the mighty carcass, marvelling once more at its size. Now I understood the terror that had overwhelmed Waaga. This was one of the most ferocious animals I had ever imagined. It had attacked us without the slightest provocation.

  I could also fully understand why King Nimrod boasted of one hundred kills of this beast, and why the Minoans had chosen it as the heraldic symbol of their nation.

  I knelt deferentially beside the carcass, respectful of such a formidable opponent and aware of how near to death it had taken me. I unwrapped Waaga’s blood-stained chlamys from the horns, folded it and tucked it under my arm. Then I stood back and saluted the dead bull with a clenched fist before I turned away. It had been an adversary worthy of my arrows.

  I climbed back to where the corpse of brave Waaga lay and I wiped the blood from his face and rolled him in his own chlamys. Then I slung him over my shoulder and climbed to the fork of one of the forest trees and wedged him into it; high enough above the ground to keep the carrion-eaters off him until I could arrange for his proper burial.

  I sat beside him in the tree and said a short prayer, entrusting him to the care of his particular god, whoever that might be. Then I clambered down to earth again.

  As my feet touched the ground it shuddered under me so violently that I almost lost my balance. I grabbed at the trunk of the tree to steady myself. The tree was being wildly agitated; its branches were whipping and waving. As I looked up leaves and twigs showered down into my face. I thought that Waaga’s body might be dislodged by the disturbance, but I had wedged it firmly.

  Around me the entire forest was being shaken violently. The mountain itself was dancing. There was a rumbling roar and I looked around at the peak of Mount Ida just as a great slab of the granite cliff broke away and came down sliding and tumbling into the valley.

  The horses were panicking. They were rearing and shaking their heads as they fought their halters, trying to break free of their tethers. I staggered across to them over the quaking ground. I gentled them and spoke to them soothingly. I have a special way with horses as I do with most birds and animals and I managed to calm them and induce them to lie flat on the ground, preventing them from bolting or falling to injure themselves.

  Then I looked back into the north, over the harbour of Knossos and across the open sea to the twin volcanic peaks of Mount Cronus.

 
The god was furious. He was fighting to be free of the chains with which his son Zeus had bound him. His roars were deafening even at this distance. Smoke, steam and fire billowed from the vents in his mountain dungeon, blotting out the northern horizon. I could see rocks as large as the buildings of the city that he was hurling into the sky.

  I felt tiny and helpless in the face of such cataclysmic rage. Even the face of Helios the sun was hidden from us. Dark despair fell over our world. The very earth trembled with fear. The sulphurous stink of it filled the air.

  I sat with my horses and buried my face in my folded arms. Even I was afraid. It was a pious and devout terror. There is no place of refuge on this earth wherein you can escape the rage of the gods.

  I had slain the monstrous horned creature that was the alter ego of the god. Surely the anger of Cronus was directed at me for such a sacrilegious offence.

  For an hour and then another hour the god raged on and then as the sun made its noon it ceased as abruptly as it had begun. The sulphurous clouds rolled away, the mountain stilled and peace returned to the world.

  I roused my horses and mounted up, and I led the string of loose animals down the mountain, picking my way through the litter of fallen branches and the small landslides of rocks and loose earth that the god had shaken from the mountain.

  Three days previously I had sent a message to Zaras to expect my arrival. Long before I reached the port of Krimad I saw both Zaras and Hui cantering up the path towards me. At a distance they recognized me and with cries of relief they kicked their mounts into a gallop. When they reached me they reined down their mounts and jumped to earth. They almost dragged me from my own saddle, and one after the other they embraced me. I swear on my love for Horus and Hathor that when Zaras released me from his crushing bear hug he actually struck a tear from his eye as he told me, ‘We thought for sure that we had got rid of you at last. But even Cronus himself could not do the job for us.’ Of course my own eyes were dry, but I was thankful that there was nobody else present to witness such a mawkish display.

  ‘Has the squadron of Minoan warships arrived in Krimad yet?’ I attempted to get back on sensible terms.

  ‘No, my lord.’ Zaras managed to wipe the grin from his face. He pointed down at the watery horizon. ‘As you can see, the sea has been whipped into a fury by the earthquake. Almost certainly they have been driven off course. I expect that they will be delayed for several days.’

  ‘How has our own flotilla ridden out the storm?’ While we rode on down the mountain I made certain we discussed naval matters exclusively. I pretended not to notice the hand signals that Hui was sending Zaras, and his equally surreptitious refusals to comply with them. However, when we came in sight of Krimad harbour Hui could restrain himself no longer and, writhing with embarrassment, he blurted out:

  ‘We were wondering if you had brought us any messages, my lord.’

  ‘Messages?’ I frowned. ‘From whom were you expecting a message?’

  ‘Maybe from the palace …’ His voice trailed off.

  ‘You were expecting a message from the Supreme Minos?’ I feigned ignorance. However, their beseeching gaze was pathetic and against my better judgement I told them, ‘No messages; but you have probably heard that the Princesses Tehuti and Bekatha are both married to the Minoan monarch and are safely ensconced in the royal harem. You have both done your duty and are to be highly commended. I will bring all this to the attention of Pharaoh at the very first opportunity. I know he will be grateful.’ With the next breath I went on, ‘I am sure you are wondering why I have arrived without an escort of any kind. There was an accident in which my servant was killed by a wild animal. At the first opportunity I want you to send a burial party up the mountain to find his remains and give them decent burial.’

  I kept talking and issuing orders, giving them no chance to pursue the subject of the princesses. I did not want to admit to them that I had no contact with the girls and had no idea how they were faring in the seraglio.

  When we reached the port I was astonished to find that even on this side of the island, which was protected from the volcanic upheavals of Mount Cronus, the sea had been churned into such a furious condition that the waves were breaking over the harbour wall and charging deck-high through the anchorage. However, Zaras and Hui had taken every possible precaution to protect their ships. They had double-lashed them to the stone wharf with the heaviest hawsers the harbour-master was able to provide; and hung them with thick fenders of plaited rope to prevent them from colliding with each other or with the walls of the wharf.

  They had left only an anchor watch on board each vessel. The rest of us took shelter in an empty warehouse ashore as guests of the harbour-master. His name was Poimen and he was a typical Minoan, melancholic and pessimistic.

  He invited me and my officers to dine with him that first night. I was surprised by this hospitable act. It was only later that I discovered he was not only harbour-master but also a colonel in the Minoan secret police, and that he was drawing up a report on all of us Egyptians for the benefit of his super-iors in Knossos.

  The food with which his kitchen provided us was over-salted and over-cooked. The wine was thin and sour. The conversation was mundane and pedestrian, centring on the earthquake and the stormy seas that it had engendered. I was sorely in need of diversion, so I demanded of the company at large, ‘What is the cause of these earthquakes and volcanic eruptions?’

  Nobody was in any doubt that they were inflicted on humanity as a punishment for a crime or an offence committed against the gods.

  ‘What crime would be serious enough to call for such an onerous punishment?’ I asked naïvely and was hard put to maintain a sober expression as I listened to the diversity and the absurdity of their replies which covered the full catalogue of human frailty and divine arrogance.

  After a while even this palled, so I demanded, ‘In what manner can we atone to the gods for our trespasses?’

  They all turned their head towards the harbour-master, the senior representative of the Supreme Minos present. He adopted a learned expression and a pontifical tone.

  ‘It is not for us to divine the will of the gods. Only the Supreme Minos, may his name be blessed through all eternity, is capable of such wisdom. However, we can rejoice in the secure knowledge that His Supreme Highness has already fathomed the cause of the divine anger and will make full recompense.’ He cocked his head to listen to the sound of the storm beyond the walls of the warehouse. ‘Hark! The storm is abating. The anger of the gods has already been appeased. By this time tomorrow the seas will be quietened and the mountains stilled.’

  ‘How does the Supreme Minos placate the gods so readily?’ I pursued the subject relentlessly.

  ‘In the only manner that any god can be appeased,’ he replied with a shrug and a superior expression. ‘By sacrifice, of course!’

  If it had not been for Toran’s warning I might have trespassed on to the dangerous ground of the nature of the Supreme Minos, but I curbed my tongue. The harbour-master turned away from me and fell into a lively discussion with his assistants as to what extent the rough seas would affect the fishing.

  I was left with the uncomfortable and lingering knowledge that my killing of the aurochs bull and the divine rage of Cronus had followed too closely upon each other to be mere coincidence.

  What sacrifice of appeasement had Cronus demanded of the Supreme Minos, I wondered?

  By dawn the following morning the waves were no longer breaking over the protecting walls of Krimad harbour and Zaras and Hui were able to continue their preparations for our naval campaign against the Hyksos.

  Four days later the six triremes that had been assigned to me by Vice Admiral Herakal arrived in Krimad. They had been carried far to the east by the heavy seas; almost as far as the island of Cyprus. They were down to their last few barrels of fresh water and their oarsmen were almost totally exhausted.

  I rested the Cretan crews for three full days and made
certain they were well provided with food, olive oil and wine of reasonable quality. They responded well. When the rest period ended I began joint exercises with the two flotillas.

  Language was the main problem we encountered, but I saw to it that every ship had at least two interpreters on board and that the signal flags meant the same thing to the Minoans as they did to our Egyptians.

  Both flotillas comprised well-trained and -practised mariners and within the week they were carrying out complicated manoeuvres: sailing in formation and forming line of battle. The Minoans soon learned to land chariots and infantry through the surf, and to recover men, horses and vehicles again after they had carried out their assault.

  As they became more adept so the mutual trust and camaraderie between Egyptians and Cretans blossomed. I was welding them into a formidable little fighting force. I knew that very soon I could unleash them upon the Hyksos. Of course my main concern was to decide where they could do the most damage.

  Good intelligence wins battles long before the first arrow is shot or the first sword is drawn from its scabbard.

  Then without warning a small and almost derelict trading dhow arrived off the entrance to Krimad harbour. Its sail was tattered and stained. Its hull was zebra-striped with excrement which its crew had defecated over the side. Its scruffy crew of eight were bailing frantically to keep it afloat. They seemed more like pariahs than seamen. Their ship was flying no colours and lying low in the water, almost on the point of floundering. No pirate worth his salt was likely to give it a second look; which was probably why it had survived the voyage from wherever it had come.

  On the other hand I am not as naïve and arrogant as your average corsair. It was in just too much of an appalling condition to be innocent. I could smell the old fox’s scent carried before it on the wind. I ordered Zaras to launch five of our longboats filled with men and bristling with weapons, and to board her immediately.

  As soon as our attack boats cleared the harbour entrance the strange dhow dropped her sail and hoisted Egyptian colours. Zaras towed it into the harbour and tied it to the wharf to delay it from sinking.