Warlock: A Novel of Ancient Egypt

Mintaka spoke up for the first time. 'We have discussed already Prenn, my uncle Tonka,' she said, and Nefer nodded, but gave her a quizzical look. 'If I could meet him, if I could speak to him face to face, I am sure I could convince him to turn against Naja and throw in his lot with us.'

'What do you mean?' Nefer's voice was harsh and his expression stern.

'Dressed as a boy, with a small detachment of good men and fast horses, I could circle around Naja's main army and get through to Uncle Tonka in the rear. There would be little risk.'

Nefer's face blanched with anger. 'Madness!' he said quietly. 'Stark raving madness of the kind you exhibited at Gallala when you showed yourself as bait to Trok. I will not hear another word of it. Can you imagine what Naja would do to you if you fell into his hands?'

'Can you imagine what Naja would do if, in the critical moment of the battle, Uncle Tonka and his legions fell upon him from his own rear?' she flashed back at Nefer.

'We will not speak of it again.' Nefer came to his feet and slammed his fists down on the table-top. 'You will stay with Merykara here in the fort during the rest of the campaign. If you do not give me your word to put such stupidity out of you mind, I will have the door to your chamber barred and guarded.'

'You cannot treat me as a chattel.' Her voice crackled with fury. 'I am not even your wife. I will take no orders from you.'

'I am your king, and I demand your solemn word not to place yourself in jeopardy with this wild scheme of yours.'

'It is not a wild scheme, and I will not give you my word.'

Taita looked on, expressionless. This was their first serious argument, and he knew it would be all the more bitter because of the depth of their feelings for each other. He waited with interest to see how it would be resolved.

'You deliberately disobeyed my orders at Gallala. I cannot trust you not to do the same now. You leave me no alternative.' Nefer told her grimly, and shouted to the sentry outside the door to send for Zugga, the head eunuch of the royal harem.

'I can't trust Merykara either.' He turned back to Mintaka. 'She is completely under your influence, and if you put your mind to it you will turn her to this lunatic enterprise of yours. I am sending both of you back to the zenana in the Avaris palace. You are to remain there in the care of Zugga. You can amuse each other by playing bao until the battle is fought and the war is won.' And Zugga led Mintaka away. At the door she looked back over her shoulder at Nefer, and Taita smiled as he read her expression. Nefer had taken on a more stubborn adversary than both the false pharaohs combined.

That evening Taita went to visit her in the new accommodation that Mintaka now shared with Merykara in what had once been the commander's suite of the fort. A pair of large, placid eunuchs were at the door and another outside the barred window.

Mintaka was still seething with anger, and Merykara was every bit as outraged by her brother's treatment of herself and her dear Mintaka, and especially this humiliating incarceration.

'At least you have learned from this that it does not pay to confront a king, even if he loves you,' Taita told them gently.

'I don't love him,' Mintaka replied, with tears of anger and frustration in her eyes. 'He treats me like a child, and I hate him.'

'I hate him even more,' Merykara declared, not to be outdone. 'If only Meren were here!'

'Has it occurred to you that what Nefer is doing to you is evidence of his love and concern for your safety?' Taita suggested. 'He knows how dire will be your fate if you fall into the hands of Naja Kiafan and Heseret.' They turned upon him so roundly that he held up both hands to deflect their wrath and withdrew tactfully, their denials and recriminations still ringing in his ears.

The next morning both Nefer and Taita watched from the ramparts of the fort as the little caravan left Ismailiya, escorted by the eunuchs and a contingent of chariots, and headed back towards Avaris. Mintaka and Merykara were closeted together behind the silk curtains of the litter in the centre of the column. They did not show themselves or take their farewells of Nefer and Taita.

'Personally, I would have preferred to stir up a beehive with a short stick,' Taita murmured. 'It may have made for a more restful climate to have shown a little more tact.'

'They must learn that I am pharaoh, and that my word is law even to them. Besides, at the moment I have other concerns than female tantrums,' Nefer said, 'They will get over it.' But he stayed on the wall and watched until the swaying litter and the caravan disappeared in the hazy distance.

--

Taita and Nefer rode out and inspected the stone walls that Shabako had hastily thrown up along the eastern approaches to the oasis of Ismailiya.

'Shabako's efforts will not rank among the great architectural achievements of the age,' Taita gave his opinion, 'but that is all to the good. From the direction in which Naja will come, they appear to be natural features and will excite no suspicion until he enters the funnel and finds his front progressively narrowed.'

'Your plan has the towering virtue of allowing us to choose our own battleground.' Nefer nodded. 'With the help of Horus, we will turn it into a slaughter-ground.' Then he laid his hand upon Taita's skinny arm. 'Once again I find myself deeply in your debt, Old Father. This is all your work.'

'No.' Taita shook his head. 'It was a gentle nudge I gave to you. The rest of it is yours. You have inherited the military instincts of your father, Pharaoh Tamose. You will achieve the greatness that might have been his, had he not died so cruelly at the hands of the enemy who faces us now.'

'It is time for me to avenge that death,' Nefer said. 'Let us ensure that we do not let the cobra slither away again.'

Over the days that followed Nefer exercised his forces, and rehearsed in detail the plans and tactics of his defence. The battalions of archers and slingers marched out each morning and took up their positions behind the rough, ungainly walls. They placed small cairns of stones in front of the walls to mark the range, so that they would be able to judge precisely the moment to spring the trap. They concealed bundles of spare arrows close at hand so that they would not run short of missiles during the battle. The slingers moulded their clay balls and baked them in the fire until they were rock hard. Then they laid up mounds of these deadly missiles behind the walls, close at hand.

During the exercises, Nefer and his commanders played the role of Naja's troops and rode in from the desert, viewing their dispositions with a critical eye, making certain that they were completely concealed by the breastworks.

Then, while they waited, Nefer rehearsed his tactics before the walls, charging, wheeling and retreating, covering the ground so that his men came to know every fold, plain and gully, even the location of the aardvark holes and other small obstacles across the field. He chose carefully the secure points behind the walls where he could water the horses during the battle, and where his reserves would be held until they were needed. 'I doubt that there was ever a commander able to learn the board on which the game will be played as intimately as I,' Nefer told Taita, and ordered his squadrons out again to go through the same evolutions.

In the evening he rode back into the fort at the head of his squadron. The dust had mingled with his sweat and caked his face and body. He was weary to the bone, but content in the knowledge that he had done all in his power to ready his legions for what lay ahead.

When he pulled up Krus and Dov, threw the rein to the grooms and jumped down on to the hard-baked parade-ground, his sense of well-being evaporated. Zugga, the head eunuch of the royal zenana, was waiting for him, wringing his fat hands, his eyes red with weeping and his reedy voice whining with fear. 'Great Pharaoh, forgive me. I did my best but she is wily as a vixen. She has outwitted me.'

'Who is this vixen?' Nefer demanded, although he knew who it must be.

'The Princess Mintaka.'

'What has happened to her?' Nefer voice was harsh with alarm.

'She has run away, and taken the Princess Merykara with her,' blubbered Zugga, in sure expectation of the strangling garotte.

--

Mintaka and Merykara spent much of the journey back to Avaris huddled together in the screened litter, whispering as they planned their escape. They soon discarded the notion of seizing one of the chariots from their escort and riding away in it. In the unlikely event that they were able to trick or overpower one of the charioteers, they knew that within an hour they would have the entire army of Egypt on their heels, led by a wrathful pharaoh. Gradually a better plan emerged from their deliberations.

Mintaka's first endeavour was to make herself agreeable to Zugga, their guardian and gaoler, and to impress him with her submissive resignation to his authority. By the time they reached the palace in Avaris four days later, she had him completely gulled, believing only the best of her gentle, innocent nature. There, in the most pretty and convincing manner, she appealed to Zugga to allow her and Merykara to visit the temple of Hathor to pray for the safety of Nefer and his victory in the looming battle. With some misgivings, Zugga acquiesced and the two women were able to spend almost an hour alone with the high priestess in the sanctuary of the temple. Zugga waited anxiously at the door, for no man, not even a eunuch, was allowed to enter the sanctum.

Great was Zugga's relief, and all his suspicions set at rest, when Mintaka and Merykara at last re-emerged, both as beautiful, demure and innocent as any of the temple virgins. A few days later when they asked to be allowed to pray again in the temple, and to make sacrifice to the goddess, Zugga was amenable to the request and waddled beside their litter chatting blithely through the curtain, and relating to the princesses the most juicy items of scandal in the life of the palace.

Once again the high priestess was waiting in the forecourt of the temple to greet Mintaka and Merykara and lead them into the sanctum. Without misgivings Zugga settled down to await the return of the lovely royal pair. The high priestess sent out two of her acolytes to serve him an overflowing platter of grilled chicken and fish, together with a large jar of excellent wine. Zugga ate it all and polished off the contents of the jug, then fell asleep in the shadow of the cow effigy of the goddess. When he woke the sun had set and he was alone. He saw that the litter bearers had gone. He heaved his vast bulk upright and experienced twinges in his belly that were not caused by dyspepsia but by a pressing sense of alarm. He shouted for attention and beat on the temple door with his staff. It was a long time before a priestess came to him with a message: 'The two princesses have pleaded for sanctuary within the temple. The holy mother has granted their plea, and taken them under her protection.'

Zugga was thrown into turmoil. The sanctuary of the temple was inviolate. He could not demand the return of his charges, not even under the authority of Pharaoh. The only course open to him was to return to Ismailiya and confess his failure, but that was risky. The young pharaoh had not yet revealed his true nature, and his rage might well be fatal.

--

The moment the temple doors closed behind them Mintaka and Merykara dropped their pretence of resigned innocence. 'Have you made the arrangements, Holy Mother?' Mintaka demanded eagerly.

'Have no fear, daughter. All is in readiness.' The priestess's brown eyes sparkled with amusement. Clearly she was enjoying this escapade, a break from the tranquil routine of temple life. 'I took the liberty of slipping a mild sleeping draught into the eunuch's wine.' She giggled. 'I hope you will not think I have overstepped myself, and that you will forgive me.'

Mintaka kissed her smooth pale cheek. 'I am sure Hathor will be as proud of you as I am.'

The priestess led them to a cell where all the items that Mintaka had requested were laid out for them. They dressed hastily in the rough peasant garments, and covered their heads with woollen shawls. Then, carrying the leather pouches slung across their shoulders, they followed the high priestess through the maze of corridors. The temple backed on to Nile, and they became aware of the gentle swish of the river current against the outer walls growing louder ahead of them. At last they stepped out through a low doorway into the sunshine, and on to the jetty where a large dhow was moored. 'The captain has been paid with the gold you gave me, and he knows where to go. All the other items you asked for are stowed in your cabin on board,' she said.

'You know what to tell Zugga,' Mintaka said, and the old woman giggled again.

'I am sure that Hathor will forgive me such an insignificant falsehood. It is in such a good cause.'

As the pair jumped down on to the deck of the dhow, the crew, who had been dozing in the shade, scrambled to their feet and rushed to set the lateen sail. Without waiting for orders, the captain steered out into the main flow of the current and turned the bows downstream, heading for the delta. For the rest of that day Mintaka and Merykara stayed in the tiny cabin, taking no chance that they might be recognized from the shore, or from a passing riverboat. In the late afternoon the dhow moored briefly against the east bank and two armed men came aboard, carrying heavy sacks. Immediately the dhow captain hoisted the sail again and they pressed on with all speed downriver. The two men came to the cabin and prostrated themselves before Mintaka.

'May all the gods love you, Majesty,' said the bigger of the two, a bearded Hyksos with large nose and strong features. 'We are your dogs. We came as soon as we received your summons.'

'Lok!' Mintaka smiled with pleasure to see his well-remembered face, and then turned to the other man. 'And surely this is your son, Lokka.' He seemed as big and doughty as his father. 'You are both well met and welcome. You, Lok, served my father well. Will you and your son do the same for me?' She spoke in the Hyksosian language.

'With our lives, mistress!' they told her.

'I will have hard employment for you once we go ashore, but until then rest and prepare your weapons.'

The dhow captain selected one of the many mouths of the delta where the current slowed and meandered through swamps and lagoons over which hovered clouds of waterfowl. Darkness fell before they reached the open sea, but the dhow captain steered his craft unerringly through the shallows and the hidden sandbars, until at last the miasma of the swamps was blown away on the clean salt airs of the Mediterranean. The two girls came up on deck.

'Just about now, Zugga will realize that we have flown.' Mintaka smiled at Merykara. 'I wonder what he will tell Nefer. That we are safely locked up in the temple under the wing of the high priestess? I hope so.'

With half a moon in the sky they sailed out of the confined waterways and felt the scend of the open sea lift the deck beneath their feet. As soon as he had made his offing and there was deep water under his hull, the captain turned eastwards and hugged the coast throughout the night.

In the dawn Mintaka and Merykara stood in the bows, huddled in their shawls for warmth. They stared south at the low bleak desert shore to their right.

'To think that Nefer is only a few leagues out there,' Mintaka whispered. 'I feel as though I could reach out my hand to touch him.'

'Meren is there too, only a little further to the east. What a surprise they would have to know that we are so close.'

'My heart yearns for Nefer. I pray every hour to Horus and Hathor to keep him safe.'

'You no longer hate him, then?' Merykara asked.

'I never did,' Mintaka denied hotly, then hesitated. 'Well, perhaps for a moment and only a very little.'

'I know just how you feel,' Merykara assured her. 'At times, they can be so stubborn and bull-headed and ...' she sought for a word to describe it '... and so male.'

'Yes!' Mintaka agreed, 'That's it exactly. Like children. I suppose we must forgive them, for they cannot help themselves.'

During the rest of that day and the following night they sailed eastwards along the coast, through the Khalig el Tina and along the string of islands and sandbars that enclosed the vast lagoon of the Sabkhet el Bardawill. The next morning the dhow edged in towards the beach at El Arish, and as soon as the water was waist deep the two bodyguards, Lok and Lokka, carried the women ashore then waded back to the boat to fetch the baggage. The small party stood and watched the crew of the dhow row off, then set the sail and head back out to sea for the return to Egypt and the delta.

'Well, we have done it,' said Merykara uncertainly. Despite Mintaka's company, she was feeling vulnerable and alone. 'But what do we do now?' She sounded close to tears.

'I will send Lok to find transport for us,' said Mintaka, and then to give her comfort and a little more confidence she went on to explain to Merykara, 'Nefer might have stopped us going southwards through the desert to find my uncle Tonka, but we have outwitted him.' She smiled more gaily than her spirits dictated, for she was even more aware than Merykara of their invidious position. 'Just think how furious Nefer and Meren would be if they only knew!' They laughed together, and Mintaka went on, 'Here we are in the rear of Naja's advancing army, and the road between Beersheba and Ismailiya lies a very few leagues south of us. When Lok finds a cart or wagon for us we can lose ourselves in the baggage train of Naja's army, hide among the camp-followers until we can reach the headquarters of Uncle Tonka.'

It was not quite as easy to find transport as Mintaka had made it sound. The quartermasters of Naja's army had been ahead of them, and had seized wagons and horses, as well as food and provisions from the local populace. In the end they had to settle for a string of five decrepit donkeys, and they had to pay dearly for these, with two heavy gold rings and two of silver. The animals were barely able to support the weight of even the two women, let alone their bodyguards, so they walked most of the rugged path southwards, until on the third day after landing they topped a rise and saw in the valley below them the tail of the army of Pharaoh Naja. This great host filled the main east-to-west road in both directions as far as the eye could see, and the dust it raised sullied the sky like the smoke from a forest fire.

They went down to join it, and found themselves in the baggage train. They fell in with the long caravan of wagons and pack animals. Mintaka and Merykara kept their heads and faces covered, and in their dusty, bedraggled clothing excited little notice. Lok and Lokka chaperoned them closely, and discouraged the attentions of any other travellers. The rate of march was of the slowest, so even on the poor donkeys they were moving a little faster than the rest of the cavalcade and, like a scrap of flotsam in the mighty river, they drifted forward towards the head. As they went they passed every type and condition of humanity, beggars and bawds, merchants and water-carriers, barbers, coppersmiths and carpenters, troubadours and jugglers. There were captains splendid in the Gold of Valour, driving their chariots furiously through the throng, lashing out of their path the limping cripples on their crutches, and the army women with their bastards at the breast, feeding on the march, toddlers whining at their skirts.

Mintaka and Merykara kept up the best speed the wretched donkeys could manage, and they camped that first night under the stars, surrounded by the campfires, the hubbub and stench of this immense agglomeration of humanity.

In the dawn, as soon as it was light enough to see the road underfoot, they set off again. Before noon they had caught up with the rearguard of the main army: the marching companies of spearmen, and the ranks of archers with bows unstrung, the battalions of slingers singing their marching songs in the barbaric language of the western islands. Next they passed the long lines of the horses of the remount division, twenty to a string, being led behind the fodder wagons and the water carts. Mintaka marvelled at the numbers: it did not seem possible that there were so many animals in all Egypt.

The soldiers looked at the two women, and not even their shoddy dress or the voluminous shawls wound around their heads could hide their youth and grace from such discerning eyes. They called suggestive compliments and lewd invitations as they passed, but the discipline of their officers and the stern presence of Lok and Lokka kept them from any further advances.

That evening they kept on travelling after the main army had encamped and after sunset they came upon a large zareba of poles and thornbushes just off the road. This had been set up in an easily defended defile of low hills. The entrance was heavily guarded, and there was much activity around it, the marching and counter-marching of the sentries, the scurrying of servants and orderlies, and the coming and going of chariots driven by officers of the Red. Above the gate of the stockade flew the gonfalon that Mintaka recognized at once: on it was depicted the severed head of a wild boar with its tongue lolling from the corner of its tusked jaws.

'This is the man we are looking for,' Mintaka whispered to Merykara.

'But how do we get in to see him?' Merykara asked doubtfully, eyeing the sentries.

They made their own rudimentary camp a little further down the road, but within sight of the gates of the regimental headquarters of General Prenn, centurion of the Red, and the commander of the rearguard of the pharaonic army.

From one of the leather saddlebags Mintaka brought out the precious oil lamp that had so far survived the journey, and by its light she wrote a short message on a scrap of papyrus parchment. It was addressed to 'Uncle Bear' and signed 'from your little cricket'.

The two women washed the dust from their faces, dressed each other's hair, and shook out their chitons. Then, hand in hand to give each other courage, they approached the gate of the stockade. The sergeant of the guard saw them coming and stepped out in front of them to head them off. 'Come now, you two juicy pieces of prong bait. You know better than to come flaunting your joy-clefts hereabouts. Get away with you.'

'You look like a kind and good man,' Mintaka told him primly. 'Would you allow any ruffian to talk to your own daughters in that coarse fashion?'

The sergeant checked, and gawked at her. She spoke the Hyksos language in the cultured tones and accent of the aristocracy. He lifted his lantern and shone the light upon them. Their dress was common, but their features made him draw breath sharply. These were clearly young women of high rank. In fact their faces were disturbingly familiar, even though he could not immediately place them.

'Forgive me, ladies,' he mumbled. 'Mistook you for-' He broke off, and Mintaka smiled graciously.

'Of course, you are forgiven. Will you deliver a message for us to Centurion Prenn?' She proffered the rolled parchment.

The sergeant hesitated a moment before he took it. 'I am sorry but I will have to ask you to wait here until I have an instruction from him.'

He came hurrying back within a very short time. 'My ladies! I am desolated to have kept you waiting. Please follow me.'

He led them to a pavilion of coloured linen in the centre of the stockade, and there was another short delay as he whispered to the junior officer in charge of the entrance. Then they were led through into the tent. The interior was sparsely furnished and the floor was covered by animal skins, oryx, zebra and leopard. On these a man was sitting cross-legged with maps and scrolls spread about him, and a wooden platter on his lap containing grilled ribs and a lump of dhurra bread. He looked up as the girls entered. His face was gaunt, his cheeks sunken, and even the ribbons in his beard could not disguise the fact that it was more grey than black. A leather patch covered one eye. He scowled at them.

'Uncle Tonka!' Mintaka stepped into the lamplight and threw back her head shawl. The man came to his feet slowly and stared at her. Then suddenly he grinned, and his single eye gleamed. 'I did not think it possible!' He embraced her and lifted her off her feet. 'I heard that you had deserted us and gone over to the enemy.'

When he put her down again and she had partially recovered from this display of affection, she gasped, 'That's what I have come to speak to you about, Uncle Tonka.'

'Who is this with you?' He glanced at Merykara, then blinked his one good eye. 'By Seth's foul breath, I know you.'

'It's the Princess Merykara,' Mintaka told him.

'Naja's runaway wife. He will be pleased to have you back.' Prenn chuckled. 'Have the two of you eaten?' Then, without waiting for a reply, he shouted to his servants to bring more meat and bread and wine. The two girls covered their faces again while they were served, but once the servants had gone Mintaka sat close to Prenn, on the side of his good ear, and dropped her voice so that they could not be overheard by a listener outside the tent walls.

He heard her out silently, but his expression changed as she described to him in detail the events of that terrible night when her father and all her brothers had died in the burning galley on the river at Balasfura. Mintaka thought she saw a tear gleam in the corner of his eye as she went on, but she knew that such a show of weakness was not possible in a centurion of the Red. Prenn turned away his face and when he looked back at her the tear was gone and she knew she had been mistaken.

When at last she finished speaking Prenn said simply, 'I loved your father, almost as much as I love you, little cricket, but what you are proposing is treason.' He was silent a while longer and then he sighed. 'All this I will have to think on. But in the meantime, you can't return whence you came. It is much too risky. You must stay under my care, both of you, until this affair is resolved.'

When they protested, he overrode them brusquely. 'It is not a request. It is an order.' He thought a moment. 'I will have you disguised as a pair of my pretty boys. That will cause little comment, for all my men know that I enjoy a slice of rump almost as much as a cut of breast.'

'Can I at least send a message to Nefer Seti?' Mintaka pleaded.

'That also is too great a risk. Have patience. It will not be for long. Naja is poised on the heights of the Khatmia. Within days he will begin the march on Ismailiya. The battle will be decided before the full moon of Osiris begins to wane.' His voice dropped to a growl. 'And I will be forced to a decision.'

--

From a distance Meren watched the great host of Pharaoh Naja come down the escarpment from the Khatmia Pass into the arid lands, and he released a pair of the pigeons that Taita had given to him. Two birds, so that if one was taken by a falcon or another predator the other might still win through. Both birds had a single strand of red thread looped around a leg, the signal that the advance had begun.

Meren shadowed the stately progress of the enemy legions across the desert, and at night crept closer to the camps to watch them watering from the stored jars and to eavesdrop on any of the loud conversations around the campfires.

By the fifth night Naja's full army was committed to the crossing, and the leading elements had passed the halfway mark between Khatmia and Ismailiya. Meren was able to cut in behind the rearguard and examine the now deserted water stores they had left behind them. He discovered that they were almost entirely used up, or had been carried away. Naja was so confident of his victory that he had left no contingency reserves for a possible retreat. From the unused jars that he did find Meren replenished his own waterskins, which were almost exhausted, and he smashed the few jars that remained.

Now he rode back parallel to Naja's line of march, but well out to the south and beyond the range of vision of his scouts, and circled out in front of the heavily encumbered, slowly moving host. He came back to where he had left the bulk of his force concealed. They were fifty chariots manned by crack troops and drawn by some of the finest horses in all Nefer's army. He paused only to water, and to change the pennants his chariots flew from the blue to the red of Naja's army. He consoled himself that this was a legitimate ruse of war. Then, at the head of his squadron, he cut back in front of Naja's vanguard and drove furiously along his intended line of march.

The men who had been left to guard the water dumps saw the approaching chariots coming from where they expected their comrades to arrive. When they recognized the false colours flying above them they were lulled. Meren gave them no time for second thoughts, but raced in upon them, and cut down any who tried to resist. The survivors were given a choice: death or defection. Most came over to Nefer Seti. A single mallet blow was sufficient for each of the clay jars, and the precious fluid poured out into the sand. Meren's squadron mounted again and went on to the next dump.

When at last they came in sight of Ismailiya Nefer rode out to greet them, and embraced Meren when he heard that he had fulfilled the task he had been set: Naja was now waterless in the wilderness. 'You have just earned your first Gold of Valour,' he told Meren, 'and you are promoted to the rank of Best of Ten Thousand.' He was relieved to see that Meren seemed to have recovered from his wound, and was now lean, eager and burned dark by the desert sun. 'In the battle that lies ahead, I am giving you command of the right wing.'

'Pharaoh, if I have pleased you, I beg a boon.'

'Of course, old friend. If it is in my power, you shall have it.'

'My rightful place is at your side. We rode the Red Road together, let us see this battle out together. Let me ride with you once again as your lance-bearer. That is all the honour I seek.'

Nefer gripped his arm, and squeezed hard. 'You shall ride in my chariot one more time. And it is I who will be honoured.' He dropped his hand. 'But we have no more time to chatter. Naja will not be far behind you. As soon as he discovers what you have done to his water supplies, he will be forced to come on at all speed.'

Instinctively they both looked back into the wilderness whence the enemy must come, but the heat-haze was grey and turbid and there was little to be seen across that grisly plain. However, they had not long to wait.

--

Pharaoh Naja reined in his chariot and gazed out over the remains of his water dump. Although the scouts had warned him, he was still appalled by the extent of the destruction. Slowly he dismounted and strode out into the littered field. Shards of shattered pottery crunched under his sandals, and suddenly his usual icy control snapped. He kicked one of the broken jars in fury and frustration, then stood with his hands clenched into fists at his sides and glared towards the west. Slowly he regained control of himself and his breathing slowed. He turned and walked back to where his staff waited.

'Will you give the order to turn back?' asked one of his captains diffidently.

Naja turned on him coldly. The next coward who suggests such a thing I will have stripped naked and tied feet first behind my chariot. I will drag him back to Egypt.' They dropped their eyes and shuffled their feet in the sand.

Naja lifted the blue war crown from his head, and when his lance-bearer handed him a square of linen cloth, he wiped the sweat from his shaven head. With the crown tucked under his arm he gave new orders. 'Collect all the waterskins from the entire army. From now on the water supply is under my direct control. No man or animal drinks without my permission. There is no turning back, no retreat. All the fighting chariots will move to the front of the column, even those of Prenn from the rearguard. The other vehicles and the foot must take their chances, and follow as best they can. I will take the cavalry ahead and seize the wells at Ismailiya ...'

--

Heseret thrust her head out of the opening of her tent, and called to the captain of her bodyguard, 'What is the trouble, fellow? This is a royal and sacred enclosure, so what are those rogues doing in my stockade?' She pointed at the men who were taking the waterskins from one of her personal baggage carts parked alongside her tent. 'What do they think they are up to? How dare they remove our water? I have not yet bathed. Tell them to replace those skins at once.'

''Tis Pharaoh, your divine husband's order, Majesty,' the captain explained, although he was also agitated and alarmed at the prospect of being stranded waterless in this terrible desert. 'They say all the water is needed for the forward squadrons of cavalry.'

'Such orders cannot apply to me, the divine Queen of Egypt!' Heseret screamed. 'Put those waterskins back.'

The soldiers hesitated, but the sergeant touched the peak of his leather helmet with his sword. 'Forgive me, Your Majesty. My orders are to take all the water.'

'You dare defy me?" Heseret shouted in his face.

'Please forgive and understand my predicament, Your Majesty, but I have my orders.' The man stood his ground.

'By the sweet name of Isis, I shall have you strangled and your body burned, if you defy me.'

'My orders - '

'A plague on you and your orders. I shall go at once to General Prenn. I shall have new orders for you when I return.' Then she turned to the officer of her bodyguard. 'Ready my chariot and an escort of ten men.'

Across the flat and open plain, General Prenn's headquarters camp was in clear view of Heseret's tent. It took only minutes for her chariot to carry her there, but the guard at the gate of the stockade barred her way. 'Your Divine Majesty, General Prenn is not here,' he told her.

'I do not believe that,' Heseret flared at him. 'That is his standard flying there.' She pointed at the boar's head gonfalon.

'Your Majesty, the general left an hour ago with all his cavalry. He had orders from Pharaoh to join the vanguard.'

'I have to see him. It is a matter of extreme urgency. I know he would not have left without informing me. Stand aside and I will see for myself if he is here.' She drove the chariot straight at him and he jumped hurriedly out of her way. Her escort clattered after her.

Heseret went straight to the yellow- and green-striped command tent and tossed the reins to a groom. In her agitation she did not stand on ceremony, but jumped down and ran to the entrance of the tent. It was unguarded, and she began to believe that she had been told the truth, that Prenn had indeed left. Nevertheless, she stooped through the doorway, and stopped dead in the threshold.

Two boys were sitting on the piles of animal skins in the centre of the floor. They were eating with their fingers from wooden platters, but they looked up at her startled.

'Who are you?' Heseret demanded, though she knew from Prenn's reputation who and what they were. 'Where is the general?'

Neither replied, but they continued to stare wordlessly at her. Suddenly Heseret's eyes narrowed and she took a step towards them. 'You!' she screamed. 'You treacherous, poisonous bitches!' She pointed a quivering finger at the girls. 'Guards!' Heseret shrieked at the top of her voice. 'Guards, here, at once!'

Mintaka came to her senses, seized Merykara's hand and pulled her to her feet. The two darted across the tent and out through the rear opening.

'Guards!' Heseret yelled again. 'This way!' Her bodyguard burst in through the doorway behind her.

'Follow them!' She raced after the fleeing pair, with her bodyguard hard after her. When they ran out into the open, Mintaka and Merykara were halfway to the stockade gate.

'Stop them!' Heseret shouted. 'Don't let them escape. They are spies and traitors.'

Her bodyguard charged after them, shouting to the guards at the gate, 'Stop them. Seize them. Don't let them escape.' And the sentries drew their swords and ran to block the gate.

Mintaka stopped as soon as she saw that they were cut off. She looked around her wildly, then still pulling Merykara by the hand ran to the thorn fence of the stockade and tried to scale it. But the bodyguard came up under them, seized their ankles and pulled them down from the wall. The thorns had ripped their arms and legs, and they were both bleeding, but they fought desperately, kicking, scratching and biting. The soldiers overwhelmed them at last and dragged them back to the command tent to face Heseret. She was smiling vindictively. 'Bind them securely. I am sure that my husband, the sole ruler of this very Egypt, will devise a suitable punishment for their crimes when he returns. I shall delight in their screams as they are forced to pay the ultimate penalty. Until that time they are to be caged like wild animals, and kept at the door of my tent where I can keep them under my eye.'

The bodyguard lifted Mintaka and Merykara, bound at wrists and ankles, into a chariot and carried them back to Heseret's encampment. One of the carts of Heseret's baggage train carried her stock of livestock in cages, chickens, pigs and young goats for her kitchen. The cage that had contained the sucking pigs was now empty - they had been slaughtered and eaten. The cage was made from lengths of bamboo lashed together with rawhide strips, and stank of the pig dung that coated the floor. The guards shoved the two girls through the narrow door. The interior was not high enough to allow them to stand upright. They were forced to sit with their backs to the bamboo wall, and their wrists were lashed behind them with rawhide strips to one of the struts. There was no protection from the sun.

'There will be guards standing over your cage day and night,' Heseret warned them. 'Should you try to escape I will have one of your feet cut off, to discourage further attempts.'

From the look on her face they knew that Heseret meant every word of the threat. Merykara began to weep, but Mintaka whispered to her, 'No, my darling. Be brave. Do not give her the satisfaction of watching you break down.'

--

From the watchtower above the fort at Ismailiya the sentry shouted the warning, 'Pharaoh! The pickets are coming in!' Nefer sprang up from the table under the awning in the courtyard where he and Taita were eating the midday meal and going over the details of the defence yet again. He climbed swiftly up the ladder to the platform and shaded his eyes to look towards the east. Through the yellow glare he made out the chariots of his forward pickets coming in. As they drove down the bank of the wadi, the guards threw open the gates and allowed them to enter the fort.

'The enemy comes on apace!' the sergeant of the pickets shouted up to Nefer on the high platform.

'Well done, sergeant,' Nefer called back to him, and then to the trumpeter on the wall above the gate, 'Sound the call to arms!'

The ram's horn blared out across the plain, and the entire army that was encamped down the length of the broad wadi began to stir. The trumpet call was picked up and repeated, flung from legion to legion and from squadron to squadron. From the tents and sun-shelters men poured out, seized their arms and hurried to join their formations. Soon lines of marching men and columns of chariots were moving forward to their prepared positions.

Taita clambered up on to the high platform, and Nefer smiled at him. 'So, even deprived of his water, Naja has not turned back.'

'We never thought he would,' Taita said softly.

In the east the horizon started to darken, as though night had come on prematurely. On a wide front the dustcloud of the advancing enemy army boiled like a brewing thunderstorm.

'It still lacks many hours of noon.' Nefer looked up at the pitiless sun. There is time to decide this battle before the close of day.'

'Naja's horses have drunk little in three days, and they must have been driven hard to reach us so soon. He knows he must win and reach the wells this day, or for him there will not be another.'

'Will you ride out to meet him with me, Old Father?' Nefer asked, as he strapped on the sword-belt that his orderly handed to him.

'No!' Taita lifted his left hand. On the second finger he wore a gold ring, set with a huge pigeon's-blood ruby. When it caught the sunlight and sparkled, Nefer recognized it as the token Naja had taken from his own finger and given to Taita in Thebes all those years ago, when he believed that the Magus had murdered the young pharaoh for him. Nefer understood that it was a talisman almost as powerful as would have been a lock of Naja's hair, a pellet of his dried excrement or the clippings of his nails. 'I will overlook the battle from here. Perhaps in my own feeble way I might be of more help to you than if I wielded a javelin or drew a bow.'

Nefer smiled. 'Your weapons are sharper and fly more truly than any I have ever held in my hand. Horus love and protect you, Old Father.'

They watched as the battalions of archers and slingers marched out of the wadi to take up their positions behind the breastworks. The ranks moved with purpose and swiftly, for every man among them knew what was expected of him, and had rehearsed this manoeuvre many times. As the last of them disappeared into the ambuscade, the field seemed deserted.

The dustcloud of Naja's advance was less than a league off when at last Nefer embraced Taita, and climbed down the ladder. When he strode out through the gates of the fort a roar went up from the massed squadrons of chariots. As he went down their ranks he picked out his captains and centurions among them, and called to them, 'Courage, Hilto! One more time for me, Shabako! Tonight we will drink a victory cup together, Socco.'

Meren had Dov and Krus in hand as he leaped up on to the footplate. Nefer took the reins from him and Dov recognized his touch and nickered, looking back at him with her great luminous eyes, with their long dark lashes. Krus arched his neck, and pawed at the ground with one front hoof.

Nefer lifted his right fist high and gave the command: 'March! Forward!'

The ram's horn sounded the advance and he led the van out, rank upon rank. They moved in majestic progress, down between the low breastworks from behind which not a single archer showed himself, out on to the open plain.

Nefer gave another hand signal, and the formations opened. Wheel to wheel the front rank moved forward to meet the great dustcloud that rolled towards them. On the markers he had laid out weeks before, Nefer halted his leading squadron, and let the horses rest while he studied the enemy advance.

Now where the dun dustclouds made a tenuous contact with the grey desert he saw the line of dark spots, and myriad flashes of metal wavering in the heated air. On they came and in the mirage the outlines of the chariots in the front rank of Naja's advance wriggled and changed shape like tadpoles in the depths of a pond.

Then they hardened and took on firm shape, and he could make out the horses and the armoured men on the vehicles behind them.

Meren murmured, 'Sweet Horus be praised. It seems he has committed all his vehicles. He holds no depth of chariots in reserve.'

'They must be desperate for water. His only chance of survival is to break our ranks with a frontal charge and win through to the wells.'

Closer and closer rolled the enemy, and now they could make out the features of the warriors in the front rank, and from their colours and pennants they identified each regiment, and recognized the captains who commanded them.

Two hundred paces away the mighty host rolled to a halt. A vast silence settled over the brooding landscape, broken only by the fretting susurration of the wind. The dust settled like a falling curtain and every detail of both armies was starkly revealed.

From the enemy centre a single chariot pulled forward. Even though dust coated the coachwork the gold leaf gleamed through, and the royal pennant flew above the driver's head. Naja halted less than a hundred paces to the front, so that Nefer recognized the cold, handsome face under the blue war crown.

'Hail, Nefer Seti, puppy of the dog I slew with my own hand!' Naja called in that sonorous voice. Nefer stiffened to hear him confess so openly to regicide. 'Upon my head I wear the crown I took from Tamose as he was dying. In my hand,' he raised the mighty blue sword, 'I carry the brand I took from his craven fist. Will you claim it from me, puppy?' Nefer felt his hands begin to shake upon the reins and anger rose in a red cloud that obscured his vision.

'Steady!' Meren whispered at his side. 'Do not let him provoke you.' With a huge effort Nefer forced aside the curtains of rage. He managed to keep his face expressionless, but his voice rang like metal on stone. 'Make ready!' and he lifted his own sword high.

Naja laughed soundlessly, wheeled his own chariot and drove back to his place in the centre of the opposing line.

'March! Forward!' Naja raised the blue sword. His front ranks gathered momentum, rolling towards Nefer's line. 'At the gallop! Charge!' They surged forward in a solid mass.

Nefer stood his ground and let them come on. Naja's taunts rang in his ears still, and he felt a terrible temptation to abandon his well laid-out plan, and rush forward to meet Naja head to head and pierce his traitor heart. With a violent effort he put aside the temptation, and lifted his sword. He described three flashing arcs with the blade above his head. His legions responded instantly. Like a flock of birds swerving in full flight or a shoal of fish avoiding the attacking barracuda, they turned as though possessed of a single controlling mind, and raced away over the plain, back the way they had come.

Naja's front rank had braced itself for the impact, but they met no resistance and, like a man stumbling over a step that did not exist, they lost impetus. By the time they had recovered, Nefer had pulled away another hundred paces. Now his squadrons smoothly changed their formation and drew together from extended order into a column of fours.

Naja tore after him, but within three hundred paces his flanks came upon a low stone breastwork that slanted across their front. They could not stop now, so they veered left and right towards their own centre. Like the current of a wide river forced suddenly into the mouth of a narrow rocky gorge they were squeezed together. Wheel snagged wheel, and horse teams were forced to give way to each other. The charge wavered and slowed as chariots and horses jammed into a solid mass.

At that fatal moment, the ram's horns brayed across the field, and at the signal the heads and shoulders of the archers and slingers rose from behind the breastworks on either hand. The arrows were already nocked and now the archers drew and flexed their short recurved bows. They held their aim a moment, choosing their targets with care. The first volley was always the most telling.

The slingers whirled their weapons on high, double-handed to counter the weight of the hard-baked clay balls in the leather pouches at the end of the long straps. They buzzed through the air as they built up a dreadful momentum.

Naja's leading squadrons were deep in the funnel between the breastworks, when the trumpets sang out again and the archers loosed, in a single concerted volley. They had been ordered to aim for the horses, and to pick out the enemy captains. The arrows flew in almost silently, with just the soft whisper of the fletchings through the air, but the range was short, and the strike of the arrowheads into living flesh sounded like a handful of gravel thrown into a mud-bank. The first rank of Naja's charge was shot down, and as the horses fell the chariots piled up over their carcasses, swerving out of control into the stone walls on either hand, or capsizing and rolling.

Then the slingers loosed their missiles with uncanny accuracy. The solid balls of burnt clay were the size of a ripe pomegranate but heavy as ivory. They could crack the skull of man or horse, snap a leg or shatter ribs as though they were dry twigs. They thudded into the next rank of charging chariots, and the havoc they wrought was terrible.

The vehicles that followed were unable to stop the charge, and crashed into the wreckage of those in front. The coachwork crackled and tore with the sound of green branches in a raging bushfire. Some of the long drive-shafts shattered and deadly splinters speared the horses that pulled them. Wheels burst and were torn from their axles. Men were hurled from the cockpits and trampled under the frantic hoofs of the rearing, milling horses.

At the head of his squadron, Nefer gave the hand signal that the men following him were expecting, and a swarm of foot-soldiers leaped out of hiding and dragged away the thornbushes that concealed the openings that had been deliberately left in the stone walls on either hand. In quick succession Nefer's chariots swerved through them and out into the open ground beyond the walls. No longer constricted, they were free to manoeuvre across the plain. They doubled back, circling in behind Naja's trapped squadrons, and falling on their rear echelons.

Now both armies were locked together, like fighting bulls, horn to horn. Not all of Naja's vehicles had been lured into the trap between the walls. There had simply not been enough space for them all to enter at one time. These loose chariots now came rushing forward to engage Nefer, and a traditional chariot battle swiftly developed. Running chariots circled, charged and withdrew, then charged again. The squadrons broke up into smaller units, and across the plain single vehicles viciously engaged each other, wheel to wheel, and man to man.

Despite the frightful losses he had inflicted on the enemy in the opening phase, Nefer was still heavily outnumbered. As the advantage swung back and forth, Nefer was forced to call in more and more of the reserves he had been holding concealed in the wadi behind the fort. Now he signalled in the last of them. He was fully committed. He had brought up every last chariot. But they were not enough. Slowly his horses and his men were being ground down by the sheer numbers of his enemy.

In the dust and clamour and turmoil, Nefer desperately searched the plain for Naja's golden chariot and the royal red pennant. He knew that if he could force Naja to single combat and kill him, he could still carry the day. But there was no sign of him. Perhaps he had been cut down in the defile between the walls, perhaps he was lying wounded or dead somewhere in the confusion of the battle.

Close by Nefer saw Hilto's chariot hemmed in by two of the enemy, and the old warrior wounded and thrown to earth. Hilto's squadron saw him go down, and broke up in confusion. Nefer felt the cold hand of despair squeeze his heart. They were losing the battle.

He saw a line of Red chariots circle out then sweep around behind the backs of his archers and slingers along the breastworks, and cut them down with arrows and javelins. The foot-soldiers scattered and fled, a screaming rabble, and their despair was infectious. Grimly Nefer remembered that Taita called it the 'little bird effect - when one flies they all fly.'

Nefer knew that his army would soon be in rout, and he shouted encouragement to the charioteers close enough to hear him, and tried to rally them by running down another enemy chariot and slaying the crew with a dozen strokes of the sword. Then he wheeled away in pursuit of another Red chariot, but by now Dov and Krus were almost worn out, and the enemy pulled away from them.

Then beside him Meren shouted, 'Look, Pharaoh!' and he pointed to the east out into the desert. With the back of his hand Nefer wiped his own sweat and splashes of enemy blood from his face, and stared out into the glare.

He knew then beyond all doubt that it was over, and that they had lost the battle. A fresh mass of enemy chariots was tearing in towards them. Where they had suddenly come from Nefer could not fathom. He had thought that Naja had committed all his vehicles. That did not matter now, for the battle was lost.

'How many?' Nefer wondered, with black desolation filling his soul.

Two hundred,' Meren guessed. 'Maybe more.' His voice was resigned. 'It is all over, Pharaoh. We will die fighting.'

'One last charge.' Nefer shouted to the chariots nearest to him, 'On me the Blues! Death with glory.'

They cheered him hoarsely and wheeled in on either side of him. Even Dov and Krus seemed imbued with new strength, and the thin line of Blue chariots tore in at the new foe, going to meet them head to head. As they closed they saw that the leading enemy chariot flew the pennant of a general, a centurion.

'By Horus, I know him,' Meren cried. 'It's Prenn, the old sodomite.'

So close were they now that Nefer also recognized the gaunt figure, with the black patch over one eye. He had seen him on the staff of King Apepi, in the temple at Perra when they had met to negotiate the treaty of Hathor. The same wondrous day that he had first laid eyes on Mintaka.

'His arrival is untimely,' Nefer said grimly, 'but perhaps we can save the next generation of young boys from his amorous attentions.'

He steered Dov and Krus straight at Prenn, trying to force him to swerve and offer a flank shot for his javelin throw. But as they came closer together, Meren shouted, startled, 'He flies the Blue!' Prenn's pennant was streaming back, directly away from them, which was why Nefer had not noticed it until this moment, but Meren was right: Prenn was flying the Blue of the House of Tamose, and all his chariots with him.

Now Prenn slowed and held his right arm across his chest in salute to Nefer, and he shouted in a great voice that carried above the rumble of the chariot wheels, 'Hail, Pharaoh! May you live ten thousand years, Nefer Seti.'

In amazement Nefer lowered the javelin he had been about to hurl, and checked his horses.

'What are your orders, Pharaoh?' Prenn shouted.

'What strange business is this, General Prenn? Why do you call on me for orders?' Nefer called back.

'The Princess Mintaka delivered to me your message, and I have come to place myself under your command and to help you avenge the murders of King Apepi and Pharaoh Tamose.'

'Mintaka?' Nefer was confused, for surely she was still closeted in the sanctuary of the temple in Avaris. But then his warrior instincts took over, and he thrust aside those thoughts. There would be time for such musing later. 'Well met, General Prenn. You arrive none too soon. Lay your chariot alongside mine and we will sweep this field from end to end.'

They charged side by side, and Nefer's broken and scattered legions saw the blue pennants coming and heard the war-cry, 'Horus and Nefer Seti!' and the blaring of the ram's horn trumpets, and they took new heart. The Red squadrons of Naja Kiafan were in hardly better case and could offer only scant resistance as Prenn's fresh troops charged into them. They fought on for a while, but the heart was torn out of them. Some scrambled out of their chariots to kneel in the dust, hands raised in surrender, begging for quarter and shouting the praises of Nefer Seti. Their behaviour was infectious and spread across the battlefield, as the Red charioteers threw down their swords and knelt.

Nefer quartered across the field, searching for Naja. In his heart he knew that the victory would not be complete until he had avenged his father's murder. He came back towards the stone breastworks where last he had seen Naja at the head of his charge. He rode through the debris and detritus of battle, the shattered and overturned vehicles, the wounded and dying men and horses, the scattered corpses. Although most of the enemy were killed or had surrendered, there were still small isolated groups fighting on. Nefer's men had no mercy on these and cut them down, even when they tried to surrender. Nefer intervened where he could to halt the slaughter, and to protect the prisoners, but his men were mad with battle rage, and scores more died before he could save them.

He reached the stone breastworks and reined in Krus and Dov. From his height on the footplate he could see over the low wall into the narrow defile where he had trapped the forward legions of Naja's army. The smashed chariots were piled upon each other like the wreckage of a fleet thrown upon the rocks by a mighty storm at sea. Some of the horses had struggled to their feet and stood still tethered by the harness to their shattered vehicles. He saw a lovely bay mare standing on three legs with her off-fore broken by a slinger's clay ball, and near her a black stallion with its entrails dangling to the ground from a rent in its belly. Around each chariot lay the dead and the wounded. Some were still moving and weeping, calling to the gods and to their mothers for water and succour. Others sat dazed and slack-jawed with the agony of their wounds. One was trying feebly to pull out the arrow that was lodged deep in his stomach. Nefer looked for Naja's body among the dead, but all was confusion and many were buried in the wreckage. Then he picked out a flash of gold leaf, and the royal standard of Naja Kiafan lying in the dust and the puddles of congealing blood.

'I must find him,' Nefer told Meren. 'I must know he is dead.' He jumped down from the chariot.

'I will help you search.' Meren went to the horses' heads and tethered them to the wall. Nefer vaulted over the breastworks and scrambled over the other wreckage until he reached the golden chariot. It lay on its side, but the cockpit was empty. One of the horses was still alive, but both its front legs were broken, and it lifted its head and looked up at Nefer piteously. He took one of the javelins from the bin on the chassis, and killed the animal with a thrust behind the ear. Suddenly Meren shouted and stooped to pick up something from among the debris. He lifted his trophy high, and Nefer saw that he had found Naja's blue war crown.

'The swine's body must be close,' Nefer called to him. 'He would not have discarded that. It means too much to him.'

'Search beneath his chariot,' Meren called back to him. 'He might be trapped under it. I will help you lift it.' He came towards Nefer, scrambling over the wreckage, and at that moment Nefer caught a flash of movement from the corner of his eye. At the same instant Meren shouted an urgent warning: 'Look out! Behind you!'

Nefer ducked and whirled about. Naja had risen from where he had been crouching behind the dashboard of the chariot. His shaven head was pale and shiny as an ostrich egg, and his eyes were wild. He still carried the blue sword of Tamose and he launched a double-handed blow at Nefer's head, but Meren's warning had saved him and Nefer ducked under the hissing blade. His own sword was still in the scabbard at his hip, but he carried the javelin with which he had delivered the coup de grâce to the maimed horse. Instinctively he thrust at Naja's throat, but Naja was quick as the cobra that was his namesake and twisted aside. This gave Nefer a moment to reach for his own sword, but Naja stepped back and looked about him. He saw Meren coming to Nefer's aid with bared sword, and he saw the empty chariot hitched to the wall with Dov and Krus in the traces. He drove Nefer back with another thrust of the blue blade, then whirled and sprinted away. Nefer hurled the javelin after him, but the thong was not wound on and the throw was wide. Naja reached the wall. As he jumped over it he cut the horses free with a slash of the blue sword and leaped up on to the footplate. He did not have hold of the reins, but he seized the whip from the bin and lashed Krus and Dov across the haunches. Startled, the pair leaped forward together and within half a dozen strides they were both at full gallop.

Behind them Nefer jumped to the top of the wall and saw Naja being carried away across the plain. He drew a long breath and whistled, the high piercing blast that Dov and Krus knew so well. He saw their heads go up, their ears prick and swivel towards him. Then Krus changed gait and swung into a tight turn, and Dov came smoothly round with him. The chariot was flung hard over in the turn and Naja had to clutch at the dashboard to prevent himself being hurled overboard. The pair of horses came pounding back towards where Nefer stood poised on the wall. Naja recovered his balance and held the blue sword at guard, ready to strike out at Nefer as soon as he came within reach. Nefer knew that his own bronze could never stand against that terrible blade. It would be certain death to throw himself on top of a swordsman of Naja's calibre armed with that weapon.

As the horses swept by below him, Nefer leaped lightly on to Krus' back and with his knees steered him out on to the open plain still at full gallop. He glanced back and saw Naja climbing out of the cockpit. He edged out along the drive-shaft to get at Nefer.

Nefer leaned down from Krus' back and with his own blade sliced the knot in the plaited leather rope that hitched the horses to the drive-shaft. The chariot was running free and veered off to one side. Naja's weight drove down the drive-shaft and the end of it dug into the soft earth. The racing vehicle was flicked end over end, and Naja was thrown clear. He struck the ground with his shoulder and even above the sound of hoofs and the shattering woodwork of the chariot, Nefer heard the bone break.

Nefer turned Krus back, and they charged at Naja. He had climbed painfully to his feet and stood swaying, and clutching his damaged right arm across his chest. In his fall he had lost his grip on the hilt of the blue sword. It had spun out of his hand, and ten paces away from where he stood the point had pegged into the earth. The blade still quivered from the impact, and the wondrous blue metal threw slivers of blue light, and the jewelled hilt whipped from side to side.

Naja staggered towards the weapon, but then he saw Krus bearing down on him, and an expression of utter terror turned his face the colour of cold ashes. He turned and started to run.

Nefer leaned from Krus' back, plucked the sword out of the sand, and turned Krus in pursuit of Naja. Naja heard the rising crescendo of hoofbeats behind him, and looked back. The mascara had run down his cheeks like black tears, and terror distorted his features. He knew then that he could not escape the terrible vengeance that was bearing down upon him. He fell to his knees and lifted both hands in supplication. With a slap across the withers and a sharp whistle Nefer brought Krus to a plunging halt before the kneeling figure, jumped down and stood over Naja.

'Mercy!' Naja sobbed. 'I yield to you the double crown and all the kingdom.' He crawled pitifully to Nefer's feet.

'I already have that. I lack only one thing. Vengeance!'

'Mercy, Nefer Seti, in the name of the gods and for the sake of your sister, the goddess Heseret, and the infant she carries in her womb.' Suddenly there was a dagger in his right hand, and he stabbed up viciously at Nefer's groin. Nefer was almost taken in, but he twisted away only just in time, and the point of the dagger snagged in the skirt of his chiton. Nefer struck the weapon out of his grasp with a flick of the blue blade.

'I admire your constancy. To the very end you are true to your base nature.' Nefer smiled down on him coldly. 'I grant you the same mercy that you showed my father, Pharaoh Tamose.' He drove the point of the blue sword into the centre of Naja's chest, and it came out between his shoulder-blades. An expression of agonized disbelief played over Naja's face.

'You have defiled this sacred blade. Now I will wash it in your blood,' said Nefer, jerked it free, then drove it in again deeply.

Naja toppled face first into the dust, and drew one more ragged breath, but the air from his lungs bubbled out of the wound between his shoulder-blades and he shuddered and died.

Nefer hitched the body by its heels to the traces that dangled from Krus' harness, then mounted and dragged it back across the field. The cheering followed him, wave upon wave, as he rode up to the gates of the fort. He cut the rope and left Naja's bloody corpse lying in the dust.

'Have the usurper cut into separate parts and send them to be displayed in every nome in this land. Let every citizen of this very Egypt look upon the fruits of regicide and treachery.'

Then he looked up to the figure who stood high upon the watch-tower of the fort, and raised the blood-smeared blue blade to him in salute. Taita lifted his right hand in acknowledgement and there was a flash of dark crimson light from the gemstone upon his finger, Naja's ruby ring.

He was on the tower through the whole day. What part did the Magus play in the battle? Nefer asked himself. Would we have triumphed without his influence? There was no answer, and he put the thought aside. He mounted the ladder to the top of the tower and stood beside Taita. From there he spoke to his men. He thanked them for their duty and their bravery. He promised them their rewards, a share of the plunder to all, and the honours of rank and chains of gold and titles of valour to the captains and centurions.

By the time he had named them all the sun was sinking through a low bank of purple thunderclouds towards the horizon. He ended his speech with a call to prayer: 'I dedicate this victory to the golden Horus, the falcon of the gods,' he cried, and as he prayed there was a strange omen. A fleeting ray of the last sunlight broke through the cloud bank and lit the tower of the fort. It glinted on the blue war crown on Nefer's head and on the blue sword in his hand.

At that same moment there was a wild cry from above: every head lifted and every eye turned towards the sky. A great murmur and sigh went up from the multitude. A royal falcon hovered in the air above the head of Pharaoh, and as they stared in wonder it uttered that strange, haunting sound again, then circled three times, and at last shot away in a straight line on rapid, incisive wingbeats into the darkling eastern sky and was gone in the gloom.

'A blessing from the god,' the soldiers chanted. 'Hail, Pharaoh! Even the gods salute you.'

But as soon as they were alone Taita spoke softly, so no one else outside the room could hear his words. 'The falcon brought a warning and not a blessing.'

'What is the warning?' Nefer demanded quietly, but with deep concern.

'When the bird called, I heard Mintaka cry out,' Taita whispered.

'Mintaka!' Nefer had forgotten her in the exigencies of the battle. 'What did Prenn tell me about her?' He turned to the entrance of the tent and shouted to the guards. 'Prenn! Where is the centurion Prenn?'

Prenn came at once, and knelt before Pharaoh. 'You have earned our deepest gratitude,' Nefer told him. 'Without you we could not have prevailed. Your reward will surpass that of all my other captains.'

'Pharaoh is gracious,'

'At the start of the battle, you spoke of the Princess Mintaka. I thought that she was safe in the temple of Hathor in Avaris. Where did you last see her and when?'

'Pharaoh, you are mistaken. Princess Mintaka is not in the temple. She came to me to bring your message. I could not bring her into battle with me, so I left her two days ago in my camp in the desert, on the road between here and the Khatmia.'

A terrible foreboding seized Nefer. 'Who else did you leave in the same encampment?'

'Some of the other royal women, the Princess Merykara, who had accompanied Mintaka, and Her Majesty Queen Heseret-'

'Heseret!' Nefer sprang to his feet. 'Heseret! If Mintaka and Merykara are in her power, what will she do to them when she hears that I have slain her husband?' He strode to the door of the tent and shouted for Meren. 'Mintaka and Merykara are in terrible jeopardy,' he told him.

'How do you know this?' Meren looked distraught.

'From Prenn. And Taita has read a warning in the cry of the falcon. We must ride at once.'

--

Heseret awoke in the darkness and chill of that dread time before the dawn when all the world is at its darkest and the human spirit at its lowest ebb. At first she was uncertain of what had interrupted her sleep, but then she became aware of the faint sound of many voices, still far off but growing stronger. She sat up, letting the fur blankets drop to her waist, and tried to make sense of the distant hubbub. She was able to make out words now: 'defeated' and 'slain' and 'flee at once'.

She screamed for her maids and two stumbled in to her, half awake and naked, carrying small oil lamps.

'What is going on?' Heseret demanded, and the eyes of the women were wide and dark with incomprehension.

'We know not, mistress. We were asleep.'

'You stupid girls! Go and find out at once,' Heseret ordered angrily. 'And make certain the prisoners are still in their cage, that they have not escaped.' They fled.

Heseret leapt from her bed. She lit all the lamps, then bound up her hair, pulled on a chiton and threw a shawl over her shoulders. All the time the din outside her stockade was growing louder, and now she could hear shouting, and carriages trundling past on the road, but still she made no sense what was happening.

The two maids came scampering back into the tent. The eldest was breathless and almost incoherent: 'They say there has been a great battle at a place called Ismailiya, Majesty.'

Heseret felt a great surge of joy. Naja had triumphed: in her heart she was certain of it. 'What was the outcome of the battle?'

'We don't know, mistress. We did not ask.'

Heseret seized the girl nearest to her by the hair, and shook her so violently that clumps came away in her hands. 'Have you not a speck of brain in your thick skull?' She slapped her across the face, and left her lying on the floor of the tent. She grabbed a lamp and hurried to the door.

The guards were gone, and she felt the first pangs of fear. She ran to the cart and held up the lamp, peering into the pig cage. Part of her anxiety was allayed as she saw that the two bedraggled figures were still pinioned and tied to the struts at the back of the cage. They looked up at her with pale, dirt-streaked faces.

Heseret left them and ran to the gate of the stockade. In the starlight she made out a dark cavalcade streaming past. She saw the loom of carts and wagons being drawn by teams of oxen. Some were piled high with bales and boxes, others were crowded with women clutching their children. Hundreds of soldiers hurried past on foot and Heseret saw that most had thrown away their weapons.

'Where are you going?' she called to them. 'What is happening?' No one answered her, or even seemed aware of her presence. Heseret ran out into the road and seized the arm of one of the soldiers. 'I am Queen Heseret, wife of the Pharaoh of all Egypt.' She shook his arm, 'Hearken to me, knave!'

The soldier gave a strange barking laugh, and tried to shrug her off. But Heseret held on to his arm with desperate strength, until he struck her a heavy blow and left her lying in the dust of the roadway.

She dragged herself to her feet and picked out another soldier in the passing throng, who wore the collar of a sergeant. She ran to him, with blood dribbling from her nose. 'What news of the battle? Tell me. Oh, please tell me,' she begged. He peered into her face and there was just light enough for him to recognize her.

'The most dire news, Majesty.' His voice was gruff. 'There has been a terrible battle and the enemy has prevailed. Our army has been defeated, and all the chariots destroyed. The enemy comes on apace and will be upon us soon. You must flee at once.'

'What of Pharaoh? What has happened to my husband'

'They say that the battle is lost and that Pharaoh is slain.'

Heseret stared at him, unable to move or speak.

'Will you come away, Your Majesty?' The sergeant asked. 'Before it is too late. Before the victors arrive, and the plundering and the rapine begin. I will protect you.'

But Heseret shook her head. 'It cannot be true. Naja cannot be dead.' She turned away. She stood alone on the roadside as the sun came up and the routed army still poured past her. This confused and disordered rabble bore no resemblance to the proud host that had assembled before the Blue Gate of Babylon only months before.

There were a few officers among them, and Heseret called to one, 'Where is Pharaoh? What has happened?'

The officer did not recognize her with blood on her face and in her dishevelled garments covered with dust. He shouted back, 'Naja Kiafan was cut down in single combat by Nefer Seti himself, and his corpse hacked into pieces and sent to be displayed publicly in all the nomes of Egypt. The enemy forces are coming on swiftly and will likely be here before noon.'

Heseret let out a keening wail. These details were too vivid for her to doubt longer. She gathered up a double handful of dust and poured it over her head. Still wailing she clawed her face with her own fingernails until fresh blood started and dribbled down her cheeks on to her chiton.

Her handmaidens and the captain of her own bodyguard came out of the stockade to fetch her in, but she was maddened with grief and screamed incoherent obscenities at them. She turned her face to the heavens and shouted blasphemy at the gods, blaming them for not protecting her husband who was a far greater god than any other in the pantheon.

Her sobs and screams grew louder, her behaviour wilder and madder. She ripped her own breast with the tiny jewelled dagger she always carried, urinated down her legs, and rolled in the mud she had created. Then suddenly she sprang up and rushed into the stockade. She ran to the pig cage on the cart, and screeched at Merykara through the bars: 'Our husband is dead. Slain by our own monstrous brother.'

'Praise be to Hathor and all the gods,' Merykara cried.

'You blaspheme!' Heseret raved at her. 'Naja Kiafan was a god, and you were his wife.' She was goading herself into deeper madness. 'You should have been a dutiful wife but you deserted him. You brought shame and humiliation upon him.'

'Meren is my husband,' Merykara told her. 'I despise that creature whom you call husband. He murdered our father, and he richly deserves the punishment that Nefer has given him.'

'Meren is a common soldier, and Naja is and was a god.'

Although Merykara's lips were swollen with thirst and sunburn, she forced herself to smile. 'Meren is more a god than Naja ever was. And I love him. He will be here very soon, and you had best set Mintaka and me free before he arrives, or he and Nefer will make you pay dearly for it.'

'Gently, sweet friend,' Mintaka whispered. 'She is mad. Look at her eyes. Do not provoke her. She is capable of any evil now.'

Heseret was far past reason or restraint. 'You love a common soldier?' she demanded. 'You dare compare him to my husband, the Pharaoh of this very Egypt? Then you shall have your fill of soldiers!'

She turned to the captain of her guards. 'Drag the sow from her filthy cage.' The captain hesitated. Merykara's warning haunted him: Nefer and his captains would be here soon.

Heseret gained a semblance of control over her emotions and sanity. 'I order you, Captain, obey me or face the consequences.' Reluctantly he gave the order to his men and they cut the leather thongs that bound Merykara's wrists to the strut, then reached into the door and dragged her out by her feet.

Merykara's hands and feet were blue and swollen where the ropes had restricted the blood-flow, and she could barely support her weight. The exposed skin of her face and limbs had been burned livid by the sun, and her hair hung down over her face in a tangle of knotted curls.

Heseret looked about her quickly and her attention fixed on a loose wheel that had been removed from one of the other wagons for repair. It was propped against the wall of the stockade.

'Bring that wheel here!' she ordered, and two men rolled it to where she indicated. Tie the bitch to it. No, not that way. Spreadeagled! With her arms and legs wide open to welcome her soldier lovers.'

They obeyed her, and strapped Merykara's wrist and ankles to the rim of the wheel, like a star fish. Heseret stood in front of her and spat in her face. Merykara laughed at her through cracked lips, 'You are mad, sister. Grief has addled your mind. I pity you, but nothing can bring Naja back to you. When his foul crimes are weighed in the scales of justice the monster at the gates of paradise will devour his black heart and he will pass into oblivion.'

Heseret slashed her across both her cheeks with the point of the dagger, superficial shallow wounds that nevertheless bled copiously. The blood dripped down the front of Merykara's chiton. Heseret used the dagger to split the linen cloth. Then with both hands she ripped it open from neck to hem. Merykara was naked under it.

Her body, untouched by the sun, was white and tender. Her breasts were small and tipped with clear pink, her belly was flat and white, and the hair at the base was a silky nest.

Heseret stood back and looked at her guards. 'Which of you will be the first?'

They gaped at the slender naked body on the wheel.

Mintaka called from the cage, 'Be careful what you do! Nefer Seti will be here very soon, and this is his sister.'

Heseret rounded on her, 'Shut your poisonous mouth. You will be next. Ten thousand men are out there, and you will pleasure most of them before this day is through.' She turned back to the men. 'Come, look at this sweet flesh. Will you not have a little taste of it? I can see your prongs growing stiff under your robes.'

This is madness,' the captain whispered, but he could not tear his eyes from her pale body. 'She is a princess of the royal House of Tamose.'

Heseret grabbed the long spear out of the hand of the nearest soldier and struck him across the back with the shaft. 'Come, corporal, have you no balls? Let us see you plunge deep into this honey-filled hole.'

The man backed away, rubbing the welt across his back. 'You are mad. What punishment would Nefer Seti heap upon my head?' He turned suddenly and bolted from the stockade to join the flood of fleeing refugees in the roadway. His companions hesitated only a moment longer, then one muttered, 'She is mad! I am not waiting for Nefer Seti to arrive and find his sister like this,' and rushed to the gate with his companions hard after him.

Heseret ran after them. 'Come back! I order you!' But they mingled with the crowds and were gone. Heseret ran to a tall Nubian archer who was hurrying past, grabbed his arm and tried to lead him into the stockade. 'Come with me. I know you black animals, you have prongs big as that of a bull elephant and you love to give them employment. I have something that will please you.'

The archer shoved her away violently. 'Leave me, whore! I have no time for your trade now.'

She stared after him as he strode away up the long, congested road, and yelled after him, 'Not me, beast. How dare you insult the Queen of Egypt?'

Weeping and raving she ran back into the stockade. Mintaka called to her from the cage, 'It is over now, Heseret. Calm yourself. Free Merykara, and we will protect you.' She made her voice low and soothing for she knew that Heseret had crossed the borders of sanity and lost herself in the wilderness of dementia.

'I am the Queen of Egypt, and my husband is an immortal god,' Heseret screamed. 'Look at me and fear my beauty and my majesty." She was covered in blood and filth, and she brandished the spear wildly.

'Please, Heseret,' Merykara added her entreaty, 'Nefer and Meren will be here very soon. They will care for you and protect you.'

Heseret glared at her. 'I need no protection. Don't you understand what I am telling you? I am a goddess, and you are a soldier's whore.'

'Darling sister, you are deranged with grief. Set me free so that I can help you.'

A cunning expression passed over Heseret's face. 'You think I cannot find a male prong to do for you? Well, you are wrong. I have one of my own.' She lifted the long spear and reversed the shaft, so that the blunt end pointed at Merykara. 'Here is your soldier lover, come to claim you.' She advanced on Merykara menacingly.

'No, Heseret!' Mintaka called urgently. 'Leave her be.'

'You will be next, you treacherous bitch. I will deal with you after I have serviced this one.'

'Heseret, no!' Merykara pleaded with her and writhed against her bonds. But Heseret seemed not to hear her, as she placed the shaft of the spear between her spread thighs.

'Sister, you cannot do this. Don't you remember-' Merykara broke off and her eyes flew wide open with shock and pain.

'There!' said Heseret, she thrust the end of the shaft deeply into her.

'There!' she screamed. 'And there!' Deeper with each thrust, until it slid almost arm's length into her belly and came out smeared with Merykara's blood.

Now both girls were screaming at her, 'Stop! Oh, please stop!' But Heseret kept shoving the shaft into her sister.

There! Does this satisfy your lust?'

Merykara was pouring blood, but Heseret leaned all her weight on the weapon and thrust it full-length into her. Merykara shrieked for the last time then sagged against her bonds. Her chin dropped forward on to her naked chest.

Heseret left the shaft buried in her slim pale body, and stepped back. She stared at what she had done with a bemused expression. 'It was your fault. Don't blame me. It was my duty. You behaved like a whore. I treated you like a whore.' She began to weep again and wring her hands. 'It doesn't matter. Nothing matters any more. Naja is dead. Our dearly beloved husband is dead ..."

Dazed as a sleep-walker she went to her tent and into the luxuriously appointed but deserted interior. She pulled off the blood- and urine-soaked chiton and dropped in the centre of the floor, then she picked another robe at random from the pile in the corner, and pulled sandals on to her feet.

'I am going to find Naja,' she said, with sudden resolve. Quickly she gathered a few items and stuffed them into a leather satchel. Then with new determination she headed for the door.

As she stepped out into the early sunlight, Mintaka called to her from the cage. 'Please release me, Heseret. I must tend your little sister. She is badly wounded. In all charity, let me go to her.'

'You don't understand.' Heseret shook her head wildly. 'I have to go to my husband, the Pharaoh of all Egypt. He needs me. He has sent for me.'

She did not glance at Mintaka again but hurried out of the stockade, shaking her head and muttering incoherently to herself. She turned towards the west, in the opposite direction from the flood of terrified humanity, and started to run back towards Ismailiya and Egypt.

Mintaka heard her scream once more, 'Wait for me, Naja, my one true love. I am coming. Wait for me!' and then her ravings faded with distance.

--

Mintaka struggled against her bonds, twisting and tugging, bracing her bare feet against the struts of the cage to give herself better purchase. She felt the skin smearing from her wrists, and warm blood dripping down her hands and her fingers, but the leather thongs were tight and strong and she could neither stretch nor snap them. She felt her hands becoming numb from lack of blood. Whenever she rested from her struggle her eyes went to Merykara's limp body on the wheel. She called to her, 'I love you, my darling. Meren loves you. Don't die. For our sakes, please don't die.' But Merykara's eyes were wide open and her stare was fixed. Soon her eyeballs began to dry out and glaze over with a thin film of dust, and the flies swarmed busily over them and drank from the puddle of blood between her legs.

Once Mintaka heard a stealthy scuffle at the entrance to the tent and when she twisted her head she saw Heseret's two maids creeping out of the tent. They were each carrying a large bag crammed with valuables they had looted. Mintaka called to them, 'Please set me free. You shall have your freedom and a great reward.' But they glanced at her with startled, guilty expressions, scurried from the stockade and out into the road to join the retreating rabble of the defeated army passing eastwards.

Later there were voices at the gate and Mintaka was on the point of crying out. In time she recognized the coarse accents, and managed to check herself. Four men crept cautiously into the stockade. By their features, dress and talk, she knew they were ruffians of the lowest sort, probably members of those gangs of jackals and scavengers that followed every army for loot and pickings. She let her head sag, and feigned death.

The men stopped to examine Merykara's body. One laughed and made such an obscene remark that Mintaka squeezed her eyelids closed, and forced herself to hold her tongue with the greatest difficulty.

Then they came to her cage and peered in at her. She lay completely still and held her breath. She knew what a dreadful appearance she must have, and she tried to play dead.

'This one stinks like a sow,' one remarked. 'I would rather have it with Mistress Palm and her five daughters.' They all guffawed at the jest, then scattered to ransack the camp for loot. After they had crept away, carrying what they could, Mintaka watched the shadows lengthen across the beaten earth of the stockade floor, while outside the sounds of passing wagons and carts and people on foot slowly diminished. Just before sunset the last of them passed, and the silence of the desert and the dead settled over the camp.

During the night Mintaka dozed at times, overtaken by exhaustion and pervading despair. Whenever she started awake she saw Merykara's pale body stretched out in the silver moonlight and the terrible cycle of her grief began again.

The dawn came and the sun rose, but the only sound was the soughing of the desert wind through the branches of the scrawny thorn tree at the gate, and at times her own sobs. But these grew softer and weaker as another day passed without water.

Then she heard something else, a distant murmur that grew into a soft rumble, and she knew it was the sound of wheels coming on at speed - chariots, for she could hear the hoofbeats now and the sound of men's voices growing stronger, and stronger still, until she could recognize one. 'Nefer!' She tried to scream his name, but her voice was a draughty whisper. 'Nefer!'

Then she heard shouts of horror and dismay, and she twisted her head slowly and saw Nefer storm through the gateway, Meren and Taita close behind him.

Nefer saw her at once, and ran to the cage. He tore the gate off its hinges with his bare hand then pulled his dagger from its sheath to slash loose the leather thongs from her wrists. Gently he drew her out of the stinking cage and held her to his chest. He was weeping as he carried her into the tent.

'Merykara!' she whispered, through cracked and swollen lips.

Taita will see to her, but I fear it is too late.' Mintaka looked back over his shoulder and saw that Taita and Meren between them had cut Merykara free from the wheel and drawn the blood-clotted weapon from her body. Now they were spreading a clean white linen sheet over her body, covering the terrible mutilations.

Mintaka shut her eyes. 'I am exhausted by sorrow and grief but, my darling, your face is the most beautiful and welcome sight I have ever beheld. Now I will rest awhile.' And she slumped into unconsciousness.

--

Mintaka came awake slowly as though she were rising up from the depths of that dark and terrible pit where demons live. When she opened her eyes the demons that had haunted her dreams fled away, and she saw with immense relief the two most beloved faces in her world. Taita sat at one side of her couch and Nefer at the other.

'How long?' she asked. 'How long was I gone?'

'A day and a night,' Taita answered her. 'I gave you of the Red Shepenn flower.' She raised her hand to her face and found a thick coating of salve upon it. She rolled her head towards Nefer, and whispered, 'I am ugly.'

'No!' he replied, 'You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes upon, and I love you past the counting of it.'

'You are not angry with me for disobeying you.'

'You have given me a crown and a land.' He shook his head and one of his tears fell upon her face. 'Above that you have given me your love, which is more precious to me than all of that. How could I ever be angry with you?'

Taita rose softly and left the tent, and they stayed together all the rest of that day, speaking softly to each other.

In the evening Nefer sent for the others. When they had gathered around Mintaka's couch, Nefer looked at their faces gravely and saw that all of them were there: Taita and Meren, Prenn, Socco and Shabako moving stiffly from the pain of his wounds garnered on the battlefield of Ismailiya.

'You have come to see justice done,' he told them, then turned to the guards at the door.

'Bring in the woman named Heseret,' he ordered.

Mintaka started and tried to sit up, but he pushed her gently back upon the bolster.

'Where? How did you find her?'

'Our pickets found her wandering in the desert on the road back to Ismailiya,' Nefer explained. 'At first they did not recognize her or believe her claims to be a queen. They thought her a mad woman.'

Heseret came into the tent. Nefer had allowed her to bathe and provided her with fresh raiment, and Taita had treated the cuts and grazes on her face and body. Now she shrugged off the hands of her guards and looked around her with a regal lift of her chin. 'Prostrate yourselves before me,' she ordered the men who faced her. 'I am a queen.'

No one moved, and Nefer said, 'Bring her a stool.' When she was seated upon it, he stared at her so coldly that Heseret covered her face and started to weep. 'You hate me,' she blubbered.

'Why do you hate me?'

'Mintaka shall tell you why,' he answered, and turned to the girl on the couch. 'Please describe to us the manner of the death of Princess Merykara.'

Mintaka spoke for almost an hour, and during all that time one in the tent moved or uttered a sound, except to gasp and exclaim in horror at the most dreadful parts of what they were hearing. At the end Nefer looked at Heseret. 'Do you deny any part of this testimony?'

Heseret returned his cold stare. 'She was a whore, and she brought shame on my husband, the Pharaoh of Egypt. She deserved death. I am pleased and proud that I was able to be the instrument of justice.'

'Even now I might have forgiven you,' Nefer said softly, 'if you had shown a grain of remorse,'

'I am a queen. I am above your petty laws.'

'You are a queen no longer,' Nefer replied, and she looked confused.

'I am your own sister. You would not harm me.'

'Merykara was your sister also. Did you spare her?'

'I know you well, Nefer Seti. You will not harm me.'

'You are right, Heseret. I will not harm you. But there is one who will not scruple.' He turned to his assembled captains. 'It is the ancient law of the rights of the one most injured. Stand forth, Meren Cambyses.'

Meren rose and stepped forward, 'Pharaoh, I am your man.'

'You were betrothed to the Princess Merykara. Yours is the greatest injury. I give into your keeping the body and the life of Heseret Tamose, who was a princess of the royal house of Egypt.'

Heseret began to scream as Meren placed a golden chain around her neck: 'I am a queen and a goddess, you dare not harm me.'

No one took notice of her cries, and Meren looked at Nefer. 'Your Majesty, do you place any restriction upon me? Do you urge or order me to show mercy and compassion?'

'I give her to you without reservation. Her life is yours.' Meren loosened the sword in its sheath on his hip, and pulled Heseret to her feet with the chain. He dragged her blubbering and wailing from the tent. Nobody followed them.

They sat in silence, and through the linen walls listened to Heseret's wailing, entreaties and blandishments. Then there was a sudden silence and they steeled themselves. They heard a high, piercing shriek that ended as abruptly as it had started.

Mintaka covered her face with both hands and Nefer made the sign against evil with his right hand. The others coughed, and moved restlessly.

Then the curtains at the entrance parted and Meren stepped back into the tent. In his right hand he carried the naked sword and in the other a dreadful object. 'Your Majesty,' he said, 'justice has been done.' By its dense hair-tresses he held high the severed head of Heseret, the wife of Naja Kiafan, the false pharaoh.

--

It was five more days before Mintaka had recovered sufficiently to begin the long journey back to Avaris. Even then Taita and Nefer insisted that she be carried in a litter to ease the jolting and lurching over the rough road that lay ahead. They travelled slowly, and it was fifteen days later that they reached the escarpment and looked down from the arid wastes upon the wide green valley of the Nile.

Nefer helped Mintaka from the litter, and together they walked a short way from the road, so that they could be alone and savour to the full this joyous moment of homecoming. They had not been there long when Nefer stood up and shaded his eyes.

'What is it, my heart?' Mintaka asked.

'We have visitors,' he said, but when she exclaimed with annoyance at the intrusion he went on, 'These visitors are always welcome.'

She smiled then as she recognized the two mismatched figures approaching them. Taita. And Meren! But what strange attire is this?'

They were both dressed in simple robes and sandals, and slung on their backs they carried the leather satchels of holy men on a pilgrimage.

'We have come to say our farewells, and to take our leave of you,' Taita explained.

'You will not leave me now.' Nefer was dismayed. 'Will you not attend my coronation?'

'You were crowned upon the field of Ismatliya,' Taita told him gently.

'Our wedding!' Mintaka cried. 'You must stay for our wedding.'

'You were married long since,' Taita smiled, 'perhaps on the day of your birth, for the gods intended you for each other.'

'But you, my brother of the Red Road and my dearest friend,' Nefer turned to Meren, 'what about you?'

'There is nothing more for me here, now that Merykara is gone. I must go with Taita.'

Nefer knew that there was nothing further to say, that more words would degrade this moment. He did not even ask where they were going. Perhaps they did not know themselves.

He embraced them and kissed them, and he and Mintaka stood and watched them walk away, and their distant shapes slowly dwindle in size in the shimmering wastes of the desert wilderness, and they shared the same deep ache of regret and bereavement.

'They have not really gone,' Mintaka whispered, when at last they had disappeared from view.

'No,' Nefer agreed. 'They will always be with us.'

--

With the high priestess and fifty acolytes from the temple of Hathor preceding her, the Princess Mintaka Apepi came for her marriage to Pharaoh Nefer Seti.

They stood together on the terrace of the palace of Thebes that overlooked the broad brown flow of the Nile in flood, in the season most propitious to all living things in the land of this very Egypt.

Mintaka had long since recovered from her injuries and her ordeal. Her beauty was fully restored, and in this joyous moment seemed to be enhanced ten-fold.

It seemed that all of Egypt had come to bear witness to the nuptials. The crowds stretched back along both banks of the river as far as the eye could see. When the couple embraced and broke the jars of Nile water, the shout that went up to heaven must have startled the gods themselves. Then Nefer Seti led his new queen out by the hand and showed her beauty to the populace, who fell to their knees, and wept and cried aloud their loyalty and their love.

Suddenly a silence fell over this vast congregation and slowly every eye turned upwards to the tiny speck in the vaulted sky above the palace.

In the silence there was the wild lonely cry of a royal falcon and the bird began its stoop out of the high blue. In the end, just as it seemed it must come into violent collision, the falcon flared its wings wide and hovered over the tall figure of Pharaoh. Nefer lifted his right arm and held it out, and softly as a feather the magnificent bird alighted upon his fist.

A sound like the sea on a stormy day rose from ten thousand throats as they greeted the miracle. But Nefer's eyes fell on the thin loop of pure gold that was fastened about the bird's right foot above the great hooked talons. Engraved into the precious metal was a symbol that made Nefer's heart race as he recognized it.

The royal cartouche!' he whispered. 'This was never a wild bird. This is Nefertem, my father's falcon. That is why it came to me so often in times of greatest danger, to warn and guide me. It was always my father's spirit.

'And now Nefertem has come to affirm before all the world that you are king indeed.' Mintaka stood closer to him and gazed into his face with eyes that glowed with pride and love.

--

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I ask my readers to remember that Warlock is a work of fiction. Many of the places that I have written about do exist, but the others never did - or at least those like Avaris have long ago been lost and forgotten. Gallala is another case in point. Taita's spring dried up a thousand years ago and another earthquake destroyed the city and buried the ruins.

Likewise, most of my characters are fictitious - even Taita lives on only in my imagination.

Wilbur Smith

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WILBUR SMITH

website: www.wilbursmith.net

* Complete book summaries

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Also by Wilbur Smith

THE COURTNEYS

When the Lion Feeds

The Sound of Thunder

A Sparrow Falls

THE COURTNEYS OF AFRICA

The Burning Shore

Power of the Sword

Rage

A Time to Die

Golden Fox

THE BALLANTYNE NOVELS

A Falcon Flies

Men of Men

The Angels Weep

The Leopard Hunts in Darkness

Also

The Dark of the Sun

Shout at the Devil

Gold Mine

The Diamond Hunters

The Sunbird

Eagle in the Sky

The Eye of the Tiger

Cry Wolf

Hungry as the Sea

Wild Justice

Elephant Song

River God

The Seventh Scroll

Birds of Prey

Monsoon

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