The Amarnan Kings, Book 3: Scarab - Tutankhamen Page 7

  Horemheb, watching the man carefully as he gave his report, saw a shadow pass over Besenmut's eyes. "Dead?" he asked gently.

  "Yes sir." Besenmut swallowed and pointed up the road. "Two hundred paces, my lord. All of our men and a handful of strangers. I followed the tracks of the killers for an hour or so but they just kept going, so I returned."

  "You have left the bodies of your men and the ambushers as they fell?"

  Besenmut nodded. "There did not seem much point moving them. I intend to bring stretchers and more men from the fort."

  "Do so. I will continue to the killing site and see what there is to see. Dismissed." Horemheb turned away and waved his troop forward, the soldiers from the fort scattering before them as they ran up the road.

  They came across the first bodies after less than a hundred paces. It was evident that the Kubban soldiers had been completely surprised and several had just dropped their weapons and run. Arrows protruded from their backs as they lay sprawled in the dust. The main body of victims lay further on and Horemheb directed his men to either side of the road, leaving him an unobstructed view of the carnage. He tried to picture the scene, arrows slashing out of the night, a quick charge, a hopeless defence and the slaughter.

  Seven or eight bodies lay somewhat apart, the insignia of Kubban fort on their kilts. Horemheb squatted beside them and examined their wounds. All of them had the usual wounds taken in battle, cuts and slashes, bruises and broken limbs--but all also had a single, clean death wound. His eyes clouded and he stood up suddenly, the blood singing in his head as he did so.

  "These men were executed," Horemheb snarled. "Cut down after they surrendered, and for what reason? For their loyalty?"

  Mose approached his general. "What do you want us to do, sir? Help get these bodies back to the fort?"

  "Who is our best tracker?"

  Mose thought for a moment. "That'd be Surero, sir. He's from the western desert. I've seen him in action and he's good."

  "Set him to following the tracks."

  Surero was a small black man, wizened and wiry. He grinned broadly, revealing strong white teeth, and jabbered something in an unknown tongue.

  "Does he not know how to speak?" Horemheb asked.

  Mose rapped out a phrase in the tracker's language and the grin slipped from the man's face. "I am talking with you, great one. I talk good. I follow good."

  "Then do so. I want to know where the men who did this went."

  Surero nodded and ran quickly out onto the road beyond the ambush. He cast around for a few moments and pointed. "Many men, some wounded. Other men follow and...and return. Animals too, much burden. They not return." He set off up the road at a fast jog, weaving back and forth. "First men slow, more men faster. Here be men walk...maybe six, maybe more, some blood."

  Horemheb and Mose ran close behind the tracker, attentive to his observations. At one point he gestured along a small path that left the main road and snaked up into the hills.

  "Walking men and one animal go there. Rest follow road."

  "Follow the road," Horemheb ordered.

  A little further and the tracker pointed again to tracks in the dusty surface of the road. "Men stop, go back. Others go on."

  "The ones going back must be Besenmut's soldiers from the fort," Mose said.

  Their shadows were long in front of them when Horemheb finally called a halt. "Surero, how far ahead are these men whose tracks we follow?"

  The tracker screwed up his face and considered. "Day and night? Maybe more, they run fast, few wounded."

  Horemheb frowned. "Ask him again, Mose, so there is no possible misunderstanding. Why are there few wounded men now when there were several before?" He listened to a short conversation between his troop commander and the small black tracker. "Well?"

  "He says they turned off with the animal back at that path into the hills, sir. Only the unwounded continued this way."

  "Then we go back and try to pick up their trail."

  "Sir?"

  "We cannot catch these ones," he gestured up the road. "We are a day behind and have no supplies. If the badly wounded really went up that trail they are moving slowly. Maybe we can catch them."

  Horemheb's troop ran back down the road, the setting sun blinding them and as long shadows from the hills cast a cool relief over the runners, they came again to the narrow path into the hills. Surero took over again, leading the way up and the soldiers followed in single file.

  "Six seven men, two on donkey...see leg drag here...blood here."

  "How far ahead?"

  A shrug. "Day, half day. Blood dry good in hot."

  The sun was setting when they found the crevice in the rock and, with weapons drawn, entered it. The camp inside was deserted except for a single body. The man had died of a massive wound to the belly and had bled on the dry ground in copious amounts. While his men spread out to examine the surroundings, Horemheb squatted beside the corpse and studied the bloated body and waxen limbs with interest.

  "You know him, sir?" Mose asked. The troop commander edged further from the body and breathed in shallow gasps.

  "No, never seen him before. Stinks a bit, doesn't he?" Horemheb peeled off a bandage on the body's scalp, held it to his nose and sniffed. "A plain linen bandage, no papyrus with prayers, and honey. What does that tell you, Mose?"

  "I don't know sir. That...that they had no papyrus?"

  "I've never known a physician without some and I've only ever come across one physician that did not use prayers in his healing. I think Nebhotep was here."

  "Who is he, sir?"

  "A very good physician who became a King's Councilor under Smenkhkare. He...well, shall we say he left Waset shortly after the king's death. I cannot say I'm surprised he is with the man claiming to be the king." Horemheb got to his feet and moved away from the body. He called a junior officer to him. "Have you found their trail?"

  "Yes sir. At the far end of the cleft."

  "Show me."

  The two men walked quickly to the western end of the narrow defile where the officer pointed to the track winding away into the hills, becoming lost in the gathering dusk. Horemheb shook his head and turned back to where his men waited patiently. Mose drew his general to one side, where Surero stood grinning.

  "He's found something odd, sir. Over there, behind those rocks is a midden, small but well used over perhaps a day." Despite the gloom, Mose caught the general's impatient glare and hurried on. "The odd thing is there's another one over here, behind this rock." Mose pointed. "Used by one person only and..."

  "Probably the physician Nebhotep. As a former King's Councilor he would rate the respect of a noble."

  "That's what I thought, sir, but Surero says differently...well, tell him Surero." Mose added a phrase in the tracker's tongue.

  The tracker beckoned to Horemheb to follow and went behind the rock. Despite the heat of the day, the shelter and shade had allowed a small patch of soil to remain faintly damp. Surero stuck a finger into the patch and sniffed it. "Kwa-tupay," he said, grinning.

  "What does that mean?"

  "Sir, it means er, 'woman urine'. He says a woman has used this place to...er, pee."

  Surero nodded. "Woman piss...kwa-tupay." He held his hands up to his own chest and mimed holding breasts.

  "He can tell the sex of a person by sniffing where they have pissed? How can he...no, I don't need to know. Are you certain, Surero?"

  The tracker nodded, his teeth white in the darkness. "One woman, many men." He chuckled.

  Horemheb nodded and turned on his heel, ordering the men out of the cleft and back down the track toward the gold road. Darkness had descended by the time they were halfway down and their progress was slow despite the wash of stars across Nut's body. They made better time on the road and soon happened across the deputy commander of Kubban supervising dozens of people from the fort and the surrounding communities as they carried the bodies away for burial. Torches burned by the sides of the road, lendin
g a lurid light to the slaughter ground. Horemheb appropriated a few to ease the passage of his own men back to the barge.

  As the men were setting up camp near the river and cooking their evening meal, Mose found his general sitting on a low mound by the water's edge, idly throwing pebbles into the smooth surface. He made sure Horemheb was quietly aware of his presence, but said nothing, not wanting to disturb his commander.

  After many minutes and several handfuls of pebbles, Horemheb sat back and looked across at his troop commander. "You are wondering why we did not pursue them. Wounded men travel slowly; surely we could have found them soon after daybreak?"

  "Yes sir."

  "Not for a physician and a handful of wounded men. They left Smenkhkare's army so as not to hold them up. They are unimportant."

  "What about the woman, sir?"

  "What about her? She is probably a camp follower, a whore. She too, is unimportant. What is important, troop commander, is that we catch up with the rebels, or better still, get ahead of them. We shall set out at first light again, by river. I mean to be in Sehotep-Neteru within five days. Now, go and eat something and get some sleep."

  Mose saluted and left his commander to his thoughts. Horemheb sat on the bank by the river for half the night, thinking about what he had found that day, listening to the soft slap and gurgle of the river and its inhabitants. Once, just before the moon rose behind him, something disturbed a small herd of pehe-mau or river ox grazing on the far bank a little way upriver, and for a few minutes, bellowing and splashing dominated the quiet night.

  What if it isn't a whore ? Horemheb thought. If Nebhotep survived, maybe she did too . For a while, Horemheb considered the king's sister, Beketaten, and just what it would mean if she was, indeed, alive.

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  Chapter Five

  Beketaten, also known as Scarab, and sister to three kings of Kemet, was at that moment so close to the river that she too heard the uproar caused by the pehe-mau. Sitting on the rocky hillside with Khu beside her, she stared down at the broad ribbon of silvery water caught between dark bands of vegetation. The rising moon, though waning, still cast a bright light over the hills but she knew her little group was safe enough from detection as the shadows cast by the silver body of Djehuti were sufficient to hide them.

  They had left their refuge at daybreak, but instead of heading for the trackless wilderness, had doubled back toward the river and Kubban fort. Nebhotep and the five surviving soldiers had tried to dissuade her, arguing that proximity to the enemy spelled danger, but Scarab was having none of it.

  "I must know who they are, and their intentions."

  "Whoever they are, they have come to hunt the king--and us, if they can't find him." Huni, nicknamed 'The Smiter' for his prowess on the battlefield, was the most senior of the wounded men and took the lead in the arguments. "You saw them at the cleft at sunset. What if they'd come after us?"

  "Yes, but they didn't. We're safe enough as long as we're careful."

  "And Huni," Nebhotep murmured. "This is the Lady Beketaten, sister to the king. Please address her in an appropriate manner."

  "Sorry miss. I don't mean any disrespect and we're grateful and all for standing up for us, but none of us could protect you if we are discovered."

  "Thank you Huni, but I don't need you to look after me," Scarab replied.

  "Someone needs to," Khu muttered under his breath, careful not to be overheard.

  The physician and the five injured men sat with the donkey around the side of the hill while Scarab and Khu crept round, hugging the shadows, to observe the river. Beneath them and to the east was the fort of Kubban, torches blazing still as priests from the nearby temples came to attend to the dead. To the west, where the dry river bed met the bend of Iteru, the Great River, sat a sprinkling of campfires and dimly discerned tents. Rocking slightly in the current and lit by oil lamps at bow and stern was one of Kemet's great war barges at anchor.

  Scarab pointed it out. "It can carry two hundred soldiers, as well as fifty sailors. Ay would not send one of those on a whim. Whoever it is down there has been sent to find us."

  "So what do we do?" Khu asked. "Warn the king at Kurgus?"

  "Yes, I suppose so. Let me think." Scarab sat with her knees drawn up and stared down at the camp as if she could see her path there amongst the campfires. "If we warn my brother," she said quietly, talking more to herself than to Khu, "What do we tell him? Men are pursuing you? He already knows that. Who are they led by? How many? He will want to know both and we know neither."

  "We can do some of that without endangering ourselves further," Khu murmured. "Come dawn we can count them as they board their barge. Then we head straight for Kurgus."

  "I want to take him more than that."

  Khu shifted slightly, a dark shadow within another cast by a boulder. "We are eight and the only ones trained to fight are wounded. I think the king will understand."

  Scarab went on as if Khu was silent. "We must get closer so we can discern the men's insignia. Maybe we shall even see the officer leading them. I mean to have useful information to take to my brother."

  Khu said nothing further. He offered up a silent prayer to the moon god Djehuti to instill a small degree of wisdom in Scarab, hoping also that Nebhotep and Huni could make her see reason.

  The others failed in their task. Scarab was quite willing to allow other opinions and even be persuaded where nothing was at stake, but when she had decided on a course of action, she relied on her position and rank to order men rather than cajole them.

  "No. we are going to follow these men and get close to them. I mean to find out who they are. I will not confront my brother--the king," she added pointedly, "Without having useful information for him."

  Huni shrugged. "Of course, my lady, you have only to say the word." Being a commoner and a soldier, he was used to being ordered around and thought nothing of it. The gods had set this lady's brother on the throne and royal blood flowed in her too, so he would obey, whatever private reservations he might have.

  The other soldiers were amazed that they were even consulted and willingly followed the orders of the noble lady. Only Nebhotep and Khu dissented and that but briefly, knowing Scarab's mind.

  "My lady, may I point out something?" Huni asked deferentially, his head bowed. He waited before speaking further for permission. When Scarab agreed, he spoke quietly and succinctly. "We are eight, my lady, and five are wounded, including three leg injuries. This will limit our speed on the march. The enemy, on the other hand, has the river as their road and many strong sailors to row them against the current. We can follow them but we cannot keep up."

  Scarab scowled but could not fault the argument. "All right, Huni. You spoke well, thank you. Do you have any ideas how we can get the information we need and still keep up?"

  "Yes, my lady. Let me stay behind." Huni flexed his left arm, wincing at the pain from the wound in his shoulder and across the side of his chest. "The rest of you set out now on the river road. You will be able to keep pace for a day or two with a small start. I will catch you up when I have the information you need."

  "Do you know the insignia of the legions and the names of the high-ranking officers of Kemet's armies?"

  "Some of them, my lady. I can at least count the men."

  "I thank you, Huni, but I will stay behind myself."

  "You will have to kill me first," Khu growled. "If you think I am letting you do such a dangerous thing alone, you are mistaken. I am coming with you."

  "I don't need you, Khu, and I will not endanger you. You are too valuable to me."

  Khu almost smiled with pleasure at Scarab's words, but controlled himself. "So you admit it is dangerous?"

  "Not for one person," Scarab replied. "Two people would double the risk of being seen."

  "If the two of you stayed, you would certainly be seen, my lady," Huni said softly. "Even you by yourself, but if I came...well, I know these parts
like my wife's tits, begging your indulgence, my lady. If you are determined to stay, let me stay with you to guard you, if not by strength of arms," He flexed his injured arm again, "Then with my knowledge."

  Scarab considered this option, waving Khu to silence as he opened his mouth. "Very well, Huni, on one condition. You must call me Scarab, not my lady. Here I am only one of my brother's soldiers."

  "Would that we had a few more such soldiers," one of the men grinned. He stood in the shadows, favouring his left leg which had a clean bandage around the thigh.

  "Be quiet, Kahi," Huni snapped. "My apologies, my...Scarab. He is an ill-mannered lout and I will punish him."

  Scarab leaned close to Huni's ear and whispered. "If you think it necessary, but I forgive him." She stood back and spoke for all to hear. "I make Huni my commander in the field. When he speaks, he speaks with my voice."

  Silence greeted her remark, save for one man coughing and a couple shuffling their feet. At last Huni stirred. "I thank you, Scarab, but it is too much. These men here know me, know my worth, and commander is too high a rank." He smiled. "We are five, Scarab. If you must make me an officer, let me be Leader of Five."

  Scarab glanced at Nebhotep, who inclined his head slightly. "Very well, Huni, Leader of Five. You will accompany me as we face the enemy. See that your men know where they are to go and what they are to do."

  Khu grumbled mightily but allowed himself to be persuaded by Nebhotep. Huni issued his instructions to his four men--Kahi, Hapu, Pamont and Sepi--and sent them on their way. Nebhotep and Khu followed, the young man looking back until darkness swallowed them.

  Scarab waited a little longer, until all sound was lost in the motion of river and wind, submerged by the noises of the night. "Let's go." She led the way back around the hillside to her previous observation post. "That's where we need to be by daylight." Scarab pointed to where a dimly seen stand of scrubby Acacia bushes overlooked the camp.