The New Kingdom, page 31
Fareed lined up the starving refugees and set off across the wastes. As he passed, he nodded to Hui. There was respect there, and a shared sense that some good might have been claimed from this pit of misery.
Hui watched the ragtag caravan trudge towards the eastern horizon, a lonely sight in that empty land.
Once his ships had moored in Thebes, Hui commanded his men to deliver the children to the city authorities to be fed and housed. He hurried to Tanus to tell him what he had found in Lahun. He watched Akh-Horus’ face grow grim.
‘We will do what we can to rebuild your home,’ Tanus said. ‘Pharaoh will want no less for his people. But resources are scarce. Our battles with the Red Pretender are draining the coffers.’
Though Akh-Horus tried to sound positive, Hui could hear the note of resignation. He feared that any attempt to bring Lahun back to life would only be half-hearted.
‘You will be commended for what you have done,’ Tanus continued. ‘For the survivors, disaster has been averted. We will ensure bellies are filled and livelihoods are found for all those you have saved. You have my word.’
After Tanus had returned to his duties, there was only the long wait for Fareed to arrive. When he finally saw the caravan of refugees moving along the river, Hui rushed to meet his friend. Scores had died from starvation on the long trek, but the others cried and fell to their knees at their salvation. Hui felt some comfort when he saw that.
And then Hui began his search for Isetnofret. From dawn until he collapsed exhausted into his bed, he pounded streets, from the wide avenues of the wealthy to the narrow streets and rat runs that criss-crossed the quarter where the poorest folk lived. He questioned drunks in the inns and merchants hawking their wares along the quayside and in the squares, the boys who ran messages from the palace to the docks and the incense-swathed priests in the temple. His feet burned and his frustration hardened until it seemed a great rock was crushing his chest.
Hui had to admit to himself that he would never find Isetnofret this way. The City of a Hundred Gates was too big, the constantly churning throng too great, even if his mother was not capable of using her sorcerous skills to blend into the background. He had almost given up hope of finding her. But he was certain that the moment he let his guard down she would strike, for that was Isetnofret’s nature.
Three weeks passed. That morning, the crowd heaved on the quayside, shielding their eyes against the bronze light shimmering off the river. The wind had dropped along the lush Nile valley and a suffocating heat lay heavy over all. As Hui hurried, he could see all eyes turned to the north.
Hui shouldered his way through the crowd. One of the scouting galleys had returned from the front and was displaying the scarlet flag on the prow, signalling that it had urgent information to convey. Hui squinted, trying to read the faces of the crew: jubilation, or dismay?
For a while there had only been good news. Since the liberation of Asyut, the war in the north had been running in favour of the Upper Kingdom. The gods had smiled on them and continued to do so.
But now?
The steersman guided the scouting galley to the quay.
Before the ship’s mooring rope had been tied, one of the men leaped from the deck and raced towards the palace. Hui pushed his way back through the gathered crowd and ran after the messenger.
The scout was fleet of foot. He reached the palace before Hui could come close to him. Hui paced in the shade near the gates, waiting for news to emerge.
As the shadows lengthened, Hui saw a group of men striding out of the palace. Tanus was there, and his friend, the eunuch Taita. The others were senior members of the Blue Crocodile Guards. Akh-Horus barked orders at them and they hurried away in the direction of the garrison.
When Tanus and Taita emerged from the palace gates, Hui approached them. The eunuch rolled his eyes, but Akh-Horus nodded, grim-faced.
‘What news from the north?’ Hui asked.
Tanus looked to the west, to where the necropolis lay across the river.
‘The war is over,’ he began in a hesitant voice, still staring into the middle distance.
‘We have claimed victory?’
Hui knew from Tanus’ face that it was not as simple as that.
‘The Red Pretender was destroyed with his sword still in its scabbard,’ Taita interjected. ‘That was what the messenger said. His forces were scattered even before the war trumpets could sound the alarm.’
Tanus turned to Hui. ‘This is what we know. The Red Pretender is dead. Memphis and Avaris have been destroyed – both those great cities, razed. The temples burned. The statues of the gods hurled to the ground and smashed. The Lower Kingdom is in flames, and the great river runs crimson. The Delta has fallen.’
Hui wondered how such destruction could come to pass.
‘We have been at war with the Red Pretender for fifteen years and . . . barely made a mark upon his forces,’ he stuttered. ‘We received an account from the front only yesterday, and there was no mention of any of this ruination.’
Tanus nodded. ‘Aye. One day. That was all it took. One day.’
‘The entirety of the Lower Kingdom washed away in a torrent of blood between one dawn and the next,’ Taita murmured.
‘How can this be?’ Hui heard his voice as if it were rising from the bottom of a well.
Tanus stared at him. ‘You know.’
Hui stared back.
‘You know, because you tried to warn me, and I was too confident to listen. I thought of them only as roaming war bands.’
Taita closed his eyes, remembering. ‘The words of that scout are burned into my heart. “A new and terrible enemy has come out of the east, swift as the wind, and no nation can stand before his wrath. Though they have never seen him, our army is in full retreat from the northern borders. Even the bravest will not stay to face him.”’
Now Hui understood. He felt his throat narrow.
‘The Hyksos.’
‘They have launched their attack, finally,’ the eunuch said, ‘and there has never been one as devastating in all the annals of warfare.’
Tanus placed a hand on Hui’s shoulder.
‘And they will be coming for us next.’
Echoes of footsteps rattled off the mud-brick walls as Hui ran through the dark, narrow streets. The air was rich with the succulent aroma of bubbling fish stew and roasting lamb, and out of the doorways rolled the lilting songs of mothers crooning to their babes. Thebes nestled in the peace of its unchanging ritual. But if Tanus was to be believed, all of this might soon be gone for good. There would be no peace ever again.
‘Prepare yourself,’ Akh-Horus had said to him. ‘We must go to war, and as soon as we can. It will be a war unlike any of us have known before. More fierce, more bloody, than our worst nightmares.’
Hui knew he was right. When he’d marched with those barbarians across the reaches of the Sinai, he’d seen into their hearts. The Hyksos would never be satisfied with the Lower Kingdom. They would keep coming, in wave after wave, until all Egypt was crushed beneath them.
Too arrogant, Tanus had said. Too confident. They were guilty of that, true. The signs had been there – the rumours rustling on the wind, the fears of the poor folk who’d heard of the attacks on the caravans and the war bands riding closer. But all their attention had been focused on the old enemy – the Red Pretender – and they had ignored the new.
Prepare yourself, Tanus had said. How could any man prepare himself for war with the Hyksos?
Hui’s thoughts turned to Isetnofret. The vengeance that burned in his heart would have to be put aside. But he would find a way to get to his mother, he vowed, though it was with his last breath.
He continued along the dusty street until he came to Ipwet’s house.
Hold them back, at least for now.
Hui stepped inside. Darkness filled the house. That puzzled him. At this hour, Ipwet would usually have lit the lamps and Ahura would be preparing food. He sniffed the air. No scent of fresh food.
He heard a dim, muffled sound and his skin prickled. His thoughts flew to Isetnofret, the witch biding her time, circling his life, his sister’s life, waiting for the moment when she could inflict the greatest pain.
Anger knotted his stomach and he lit a lamp, covering it with his hand.
Hui moved forward. The faint sounds grew louder, became whimpering. His chest tightened.
He crept along the trail to the bedroom at the rear of the house. At the doorway, he took his hand away from the lamp and unsheathed his sword. Light flooded the small room and Hui gasped.
His sister and Ahura were wrapped together on the bed, naked, kissing as deeply and passionately as he had seen any man and woman do, their hands hungrily exploring each other’s bodies.
The women looked at him, faces frozen in the glare. Ipwet’s features twitched with discomfort. Ahura grinned.
Hui stared like one of the fish thrown out of the nets on the banks of the Nile.
Later, Hui slumped on a bench, angry, while Ipwet sat opposite him and Ahura moved around the room lighting the remaining lamps.
‘You do not hang your heads?’ he asked.
‘There is no shame in our love, brother,’ his sister replied. ‘My only discomfort is in you catching us in the private act of congress.’
Her tone was measured, and Hui knew she didn’t want to heap more suffering on the annoyance he was already feeling.
‘Nephthys was the constant companion of Isis,’ Ahura murmured, distracted by her task. ‘Though sisters, they shared an abiding love. The gods light the way. All men and women must follow.’
Ipwet smiled. ‘You have been sheltered from the ways of the world, brother. There is much of the heart and desire that is tolerated in Egypt. Lahun was a small place, far away from a city like Thebes—’
‘Do not mock me,’ Hui said. ‘I am no longer a boy. I am wise in the ways of the world. I am . . .’ He let his words drift away, hearing the lies in them. A liar to the world and a liar to himself. ‘How long have you both been indulging in this romance?’
The two women glanced at each other.
‘Our feelings stirred when we first met,’ Ipwet began.
Ahura laughed. ‘Though your sister refused to accept it.’
‘Until you seduced me.’
Ipwet glared at her. Ahura laughed louder.
Hui put his hands to his ears, then let them slide down to his side. He felt betrayed.
‘You deceived me. Both of you, laughing at me.’
‘No.’ Ipwet knelt before him and clasped his hand. ‘We wanted to protect your feelings, brother.’
Ahura crouched behind him and draped an arm over his shoulder.
‘You never truly loved me,’ she murmured. ‘I know that, and who could blame you? But I love you. For your kindness. For your courage. For all that lies in your heart. But it is love of a different kind.’
‘And how do you expect to survive without a husband?’ he said to Ipwet. ‘And you?’ he said to Ahura. ‘You planned to marry me, then deceive me and carry on this love in secret?’
‘No more deceit,’ Ipwet replied. ‘Not to ourselves, nor to the world. We are who we are, and love is above all earthly things. If the gods will it, we shall find a way to survive.’
‘I will not have it,’ Hui said. ‘You are harming yourselves, though you cannot see it.’
Ahura’s eyes flashed, but she held herself calm.
‘You are in my debt.’
Hui opened his mouth, but he could not deny this.
‘You owe me your life,’ Ahura continued. ‘Then hear this – I will free you of your promise to marry me, if you let Ipwet choose her own path.’
Hui looked from one woman to the other and saw a change had come over them. Ipwet glowed with a joy he had never seen. And Ahura’s hard heart had cracked and now she seemed to understand love. They should be together; he could see that.
For a long while, they talked, and then the women sat on either side of him and slipped their arms around his shoulders.
‘And now it is time to express our concern for you, brother,’ Ipwet said.
‘I am well,’ Hui said. ‘Why worry yourselves about me?’
‘We have talked long and hard—’ Ipwet began.
Ahura jumped in. ‘Your desire for revenge against your mother is poisoning your soul. Both of us understand your loathing for Isetnofret, for what she did to your father, and to you. We feel the ache in your heart. But this is not the man you are. To follow this road can only lead to destruction for someone like you.’
‘This is my road. There is no other choice.’
Ahura’s face hardened. Hui knew that look – she would brook no dissent.
‘You may think you are capable of what you plan to do. But if you take your mother’s life, your guilt will end any hope you have for a better life. It will creep through you like an assassin in the night and slit your throat.’
‘I am no stranger to killing,’ he said.
‘And I would wager each death weighed on your conscience?’
Hui didn’t answer.
‘To take the life of one of your own kin,’ Ahura continued. ‘Someone you called mother . . . That is far worse.’
‘You have spoken about taking vengeance against your father—’
‘True. But we are not the same, you and I. I have a black heart.’ Ahura smiled, but her eyes glittered in the lamplight.
Ipwet grasped his hand again. ‘We will not stand by and see you destroy yourself, brother.’
‘There is nothing you can do,’ Hui said, pulling away and standing. ‘It has been decided, long ago. I will never give up my quest for vengeance. Isetnofret must pay for what she has done. She must be stopped from the horrors she yet plans to accomplish. Only then will I have a chance at peace.’ He eyed Ipwet. ‘You understand this.’
Ipwet bowed her head. She did.
‘Now,’ Hui continued, ‘there are other things we must discuss about the days to come, and none of them good.’
Flames roared up towards the black pall lowering across the wide river valley. Walls cracked like thunder from the searing heat, and the ground rumbled as age-old buildings crashed down. The city of Minieh was dying. On the decks of the war galleys anchored off the docks, sailors bound scarves around their faces against the choking clouds of bitter smoke. All of them stood like statues, staring, scarcely believing what they were seeing.
On the platform in the prow, Hui blinked to clear his watering eyes. He watched a long section of the city wall creak and waver and collapse. Once the cloud of dust had drifted away, the true horror in the city was laid bare for all to see. Funnels of fire swirled up along the streets. The temple’s columns toppled, and the shattered roof collapsed. The governor’s offices blazed. The entire city had been sacked by the barbarians. Of those who had lived and loved and laboured in Minieh, there was no sign.
‘Do we search for survivors?’ Tau asked.
‘We have our orders,’ Hui replied, his voice flat. ‘What more is there to see here? We turn around now.’
Tanus had sent Hui off with a single squadron of fast galleys to sail northwards as far as Minieh, or until he encountered the enemy. Avoid all action and report back in four days, Akh-Horus had said. The orders had left no room for manoeuvre, however much Hui wanted to help.
‘We have seen no other ship and met no resistance,’ the boy replied hopefully.
‘We return and tell what we have found,’ Hui said in a firm voice. ‘Deserted villages. Farmers slaughtered in their fields. A land wiped clean by blood and death.’
Tau’s head sagged. What they had observed was hard to stomach for even the seasoned warriors who served beneath him. But the lad was strong. He would recover. And in time this atrocity would light a fire in his belly – to fight back . . . to win.
Turning away from the desolate scene, Hui raised his hand to the captains in the other galleys, signalling the voyage home. For a long while, silence hung over all those on deck.
Hui’s thoughts drifted with his vessel, back to those days after the scout’s arrival with news of the Red Pretender’s terrifying fall. For long hours, Tanus had debated in the pharaoh’s council, accompanied by Kratas, who had been promoted to the rank of Best of Ten Thousand and now commanded the Blue Crocodiles. But the council had been divided. The younger warriors like Tanus recognized the threat the Hyksos represented, and argued that the main forces should be drawn back from the frontier between the upper and lower kingdoms to set up a series of deep defences along the river. While this was being prepared, Fareed and his other trusted men should lead scouting parties north to gather the knowledge needed to understand this mysterious enemy – the size of their army, their strategy and tactics.
But the old guard – those who had served upon the council from long before Hui had been born – refused to give up one cubit of sacred soil. Egypt could never be defeated, they said. The army would crush this intruder just as they had done all others before them.
Hui knew them to be fools.
As dusk fell, Hui glimpsed movement on the western bank: a knot of men stumbling south on exhausted legs. Deserters from the Red Pretender’s shattered army. He yelled an order to the steersman and his galley swept in to the bank. A handful of fresh men with swords and shields was more than a match for the ragged band of weary fugitives, and soon they huddled on the deck, shaking. These were the first eyewitnesses to the Hyksos invasion. What they had seen was so terrible they had fled at the first attack.
‘Tell us of the barbarians and what transpired when they invaded the Lower Kingdom,’ Hui demanded of them.
One of the deserters, a slender man with a missing ear, clasped his hands together. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
‘We looked out into the east and saw an army that sailed across the desert as swift as the wind,’ he stuttered. ‘These are not men. They are fiends from the underworld.’
The crew laughed and mocked the soldiers for their cowardice. No one would believe them; of course they wouldn’t. What could Hui say? That he had journeyed with the Hyksos, tended to their horses, slept with them, feasted with them, saved the life of one of their generals? If this truth was ever learned, no one would trust him again. He might well be taken captive as a treacherous spy. For the rest of the journey to Thebes, he tried to dream up some story that would both keep him safe and allow him to speak of what he knew of the barbarians, information that might be crucial in the coming battle.
