Chapter Eight
Aftermath
Egypt, 1068 B.C
Rameses flung the black and white robe of the Syrian raider ridden down by Keeahn, down on the large table in the middle of the huge tent he occupied, and that was currently filled with the most exalted of those upon this trip.
"Syrians!" he swore. "They dare attack us in our own land?"
"It was a raiding party, not a war party." Tuthmose observed quietly. "We've counted the bodies, there are 160 of them." He and Akehton exchanged looks.
"But there have been no reports of any raids," said the smaller man, drumming his fingers on the table "which means...."
"Which means," Rameses finished for his brother "That they came here with the express purpose of ambushing us."
"Killing you, you mean." Akehton corrected. "Which also means that somehow they knew where we were."
"But if that was the case," Tuthmose frowned. "Why not bring a bigger force? If they knew where they were they must have known what our retinue numbers were. Why such a small force, why not make sure the job was done by overwhelming us?" Something glittering in the robe caught his eye and he reached forward idly.
"A bigger force might have been more easily spotted, my lord." The Medjai captain pointed out. "In a group like this they could have brought men across the border or the sea in small parties and gathered them out in the desert, watching and waiting for us to arrive, without anyone being alerted. A large force would have been far harder to move without being spotted."
"True." The tall hazel eyed young man accepted, but at the same time, couldn't shake the feeling that something felt off about the whole situation. However, all here were older and more experienced than he, and he kept his council. Withdrawing his hand from the robe he examined what he had found. A thick bronze oval medallion, with a silver cartouche on it's surface and plain lines of decoration around it's rim.
"We should be thankful for that." Rameses said grimly sitting down, staring at the robe "We were lucky today. But I swear this, like Horus I will have my revenge for this murderous attack!" He gripped the robe then tossed it into one of the fires that lit the tent. He looked up at his men at arms. "What were our injuries like?"
The commander of the guard snapped to attention. "50 dead, 70 wounded, 40 of them badly, great Prince." Rameses nodded and looked at the Medjai Captain.
"And amongst the Medjai?"
"All bar 5 live, my lord." The captain replied proudly.
Rameses contemplated all this. "Very well." He decided. "With such a number of badly wounded we have only two choices. Either we trust that there will be no further attacks, and wait here till those who must travel to the underworld begin their journey, while the rest of us are well enough to travel on. Or a small number of us leave now and head non stop for Thebes, where aid can be sent for the injured. If we leave tonight, and ride on continuously, we could be there by daybreak the morning after next. "
He looked around at the assembly of men, looking for their opinions.
"I feel it would be wise for the Princes to leave." The Medjai captain said, as always fulfilling his mandate of protection. "We cannot trust that there will be no more attacks and the closer we get to Thebes the less likely anyone will follow us."
Most of them nodded, seeing the wisdom in the words, Rameses included, but he was still troubled.
"The men have fought valiantly though. It does not seem right to leave them here alone."
Silence reigned for a moment.
"I will remain with them." Tuthmose offered. All heads turned in his direction. "You are right, they should not be left leaderless after so brave a defence of our lives." He could see his more esteemed cousin was about to make an objection. "My cousin, you know it is the right choice, otherwise you would not have, in your wisdom, made the comment. You and Akehton, are of the royal blood, you should leave. I am but your cousin, I will remain here and do what I can for the men."
One of the non military advisors, a man called Bestines, a greasy money counter, who was far richer than he should have any right to be and who sweated from nerves a deal more than was to Rameses taste, piped up.
"He is right, great prince. It is the right choice."
Rameses eyed him with distaste. "I will decide what the right choice is, accountant." The man squirmed back in his seat. A scan of similarly uncomfortable faces revealed to him that there were a good deal to many cowards in this room.
He steepled his fingers and stared into space for a moment. Tuthmose was young, this trip had been his first on Pharaoh's business. Still, he was a skilled fighter and learned in the art of command, and after all bringing him had been all about giving him experience. "Commander," he called to his man at arms, the leader of the regular forces. "Gather those that are wounded but fit enough to travel at a reasonable pace and have them prepare to leave. We will take only 20 of your fit men, and the Medjai with us."
The vaguest of murmurs of unhappiness at the small numbers allotted for protection amongst some of the civilians was silenced almost immediately by a sharp look from the crown prince.
"Those are my orders." He decreed, and waved a hand. "You will leave myself, my royal brother and cousin to our discussions." Dismissing them. They left as always bowing, and walking backwards. When they were gone he looked at Tuthmose.
"You are sure?"
"Yes." Tuthmose said seating himself. "Apart from the men, I would like to stay here, and see if anything further can be gleaned about what happened." He hesitated then decided to speak his mind a little "I cannot but find it strange that such a clever and well informed group would not ensure that we could not survive...." He looked from one to the other of them "....maybe they never really intended to finish us off. "
Akehton snorted. "You mean, that they would sacrifice themselves? Attack, knowing they would fail? To what end!?!?"
"I know not." Tuthmose admitted, feeling a little sheepish, but he defended his corner. "Maybe it was a mistake and they were misinformed to our numbers...or maybe they were misinformed on purpose? "
Rameses looked from brother to cousin. Tuthmose, was a quiet young man as much an intellectual as a warrior and probably prouder of the former. But had a tendency to be cynical about all interactions with non-Egyptians, often reading more into a foreigners actions and words then was there. It was an affliction of a young man, proud of his intellect but thrown into a diplomatic world which he knew to be underhand and devious and trying too hard to impress upon people, his older cousins especially, that he was no young naive. It was quite possible again, that he was reading more into this than met the eye. "I have often found you sharper than a serpents tooth, cousin. But like my brother I would again have to ask, to what end?"
Tuthmose had no real answer. "I....do not know. It's just... the feeling that there was more to this than...." He trailed off, frustrated and rather embarrassed.
"Well, as you are so alerted to this, maybe it is right and proper that you should be the one to remain with the men. Such keenness of mind will serve them well." Rameses said kindly.
"Or have them striking out at their own shadows." Akehton quipped.
The hazel eyed young man ignored his older cousin's good natured jibe and stood stiffly, all business. "I will go and check upon the men, and help with arrangements for your departure. Goodnight cousins." He bade them, they responded with their own good nights as he walked outside.
The commander of the guard stood not too far away giving his orders. Tuthmose approached him.
"How many of these did you find on the raiders?" he asked, holding up his find, of the medallion. On it, in ornate and delicate workmanship was an image, fashioned of silver, of a greyhound like dog, with a long pointed face, pricked ears and a tail that stood straight up. The God Set.
In the torchlight that lit the outside of the royal tent, the man at arms peered at what he was being shown. He shook his head.
"None my lord. As far as I am aware, that was the only one."
Tuthmose nodded and walked away, a little deflated. The hairs on the back of his well shorn neck, such as they were, had stood up when he saw the medallion's image, but he didn't know why. The worship of Set had been re-established by Rameses grandfather, and many people wore such medallions as a form of protection. But something about it had made him jumpy. Something about this entire situation made him jumpy.
He looked out into the desert night warily. Slipping the long oval medallion into his robe pocket, he turned and headed for the wounded.
"My lords, may I enter?" came a voice from outside the tent.
"Enter my friend." Rameses called, recognising Sekhnet. "And welcome."
The Priest of Isis walked in, his eyes tired, his white robe stained with blood.
"How fair the wounded?" Rameses said concerned, indicating for the priest to sit.
"3 more have died, lord," Sekhnet said lowering himself into a chair. "I believe 4 more will die during the night, the others, the physicians and I are hopeful for, providing we can get them proper attention."
"A small party of us will leave tonight. We should be in Thebes in a day and a half, help should be here in 3 days." Akehton informed him. Sekhnet nodded.
"Then, if the Gods are with us, we should lose maybe only 10 in total." He sat back with a sigh, just as Rameses sat forward.
"And, how is the rampager?" he asked softly. Sekhnet's eyes raised to his own.
"Apart from a dozen small cuts and one slight gash on his shoulder, he is in perfect health my lord prince."
Rameses sat back. "Incredible. And he is quiet and sedate again?" he asked curiously.
"Completely, my lord prince." Sekhnet shook his head "It's hard to believe that it is the same man."
"Have you ever heard of anyone fighting like that?" Akehton asked of the learned man.
Sekhnet thought. "I did hear tell once of a similar frenzy overtaking warriors in the heat of battle, but that was bestowed on them by the God, Horus as they sought to revenge and defend their king from the far greater numbers of the advancing warriors of Akkadia."
"Hah!" Rameses said triumphantly. "See?!?" he looked at his brother. "He is beyond perfect! Honourable and blessed by the Gods!"
"You did not ask whether they hacked each other to death after finishing the Akkadians." Akehton muttered.
Rameses ignored him. "He alerted the entire camp to the attack! The man saved my life on the field of battle today! Does that not prove his trustworthiness?"
"He also slaughtered dozens of men in the most...." Akehton began.
"You question his slaughter of our enemies?!" Rameses raised an eyebrow "Enough. You argue for the sake of it. Let us settle this." He turned to Sekhnet. "What do you think my friend. I have never known you wrong on the characterisation of a man. Do you feel that I can entrust our sisters safekeeping to one such as he, foreign though he may be?"
Sekhnet was quiet for a moment.
"My lords," he said finally. "I have spent much time with this man. I have taught him and learned from him at the same time as examining him beyond mere facts. I have tried to see his Ka, and have prayed on the matter to the Great Goddess." They all bowed their heads.
"And your conclusion?" Akehton said impatiently.
"He has much to learn yet about our ways but....but I believe, despite the short time, that there is no better man in whose hands you could place the safety of the flower of Egypt." The priest proclaimed with a smile. "He has sworn to you, If you order him to, he will protect her to the death. His honour, as he says, is his life."
Aftermath
Egypt, 1068 B.C
Rameses flung the black and white robe of the Syrian raider ridden down by Keeahn, down on the large table in the middle of the huge tent he occupied, and that was currently filled with the most exalted of those upon this trip.
"Syrians!" he swore. "They dare attack us in our own land?"
"It was a raiding party, not a war party." Tuthmose observed quietly. "We've counted the bodies, there are 160 of them." He and Akehton exchanged looks.
"But there have been no reports of any raids," said the smaller man, drumming his fingers on the table "which means...."
"Which means," Rameses finished for his brother "That they came here with the express purpose of ambushing us."
"Killing you, you mean." Akehton corrected. "Which also means that somehow they knew where we were."
"But if that was the case," Tuthmose frowned. "Why not bring a bigger force? If they knew where they were they must have known what our retinue numbers were. Why such a small force, why not make sure the job was done by overwhelming us?" Something glittering in the robe caught his eye and he reached forward idly.
"A bigger force might have been more easily spotted, my lord." The Medjai captain pointed out. "In a group like this they could have brought men across the border or the sea in small parties and gathered them out in the desert, watching and waiting for us to arrive, without anyone being alerted. A large force would have been far harder to move without being spotted."
"True." The tall hazel eyed young man accepted, but at the same time, couldn't shake the feeling that something felt off about the whole situation. However, all here were older and more experienced than he, and he kept his council. Withdrawing his hand from the robe he examined what he had found. A thick bronze oval medallion, with a silver cartouche on it's surface and plain lines of decoration around it's rim.
"We should be thankful for that." Rameses said grimly sitting down, staring at the robe "We were lucky today. But I swear this, like Horus I will have my revenge for this murderous attack!" He gripped the robe then tossed it into one of the fires that lit the tent. He looked up at his men at arms. "What were our injuries like?"
The commander of the guard snapped to attention. "50 dead, 70 wounded, 40 of them badly, great Prince." Rameses nodded and looked at the Medjai Captain.
"And amongst the Medjai?"
"All bar 5 live, my lord." The captain replied proudly.
Rameses contemplated all this. "Very well." He decided. "With such a number of badly wounded we have only two choices. Either we trust that there will be no further attacks, and wait here till those who must travel to the underworld begin their journey, while the rest of us are well enough to travel on. Or a small number of us leave now and head non stop for Thebes, where aid can be sent for the injured. If we leave tonight, and ride on continuously, we could be there by daybreak the morning after next. "
He looked around at the assembly of men, looking for their opinions.
"I feel it would be wise for the Princes to leave." The Medjai captain said, as always fulfilling his mandate of protection. "We cannot trust that there will be no more attacks and the closer we get to Thebes the less likely anyone will follow us."
Most of them nodded, seeing the wisdom in the words, Rameses included, but he was still troubled.
"The men have fought valiantly though. It does not seem right to leave them here alone."
Silence reigned for a moment.
"I will remain with them." Tuthmose offered. All heads turned in his direction. "You are right, they should not be left leaderless after so brave a defence of our lives." He could see his more esteemed cousin was about to make an objection. "My cousin, you know it is the right choice, otherwise you would not have, in your wisdom, made the comment. You and Akehton, are of the royal blood, you should leave. I am but your cousin, I will remain here and do what I can for the men."
One of the non military advisors, a man called Bestines, a greasy money counter, who was far richer than he should have any right to be and who sweated from nerves a deal more than was to Rameses taste, piped up.
"He is right, great prince. It is the right choice."
Rameses eyed him with distaste. "I will decide what the right choice is, accountant." The man squirmed back in his seat. A scan of similarly uncomfortable faces revealed to him that there were a good deal to many cowards in this room.
He steepled his fingers and stared into space for a moment. Tuthmose was young, this trip had been his first on Pharaoh's business. Still, he was a skilled fighter and learned in the art of command, and after all bringing him had been all about giving him experience. "Commander," he called to his man at arms, the leader of the regular forces. "Gather those that are wounded but fit enough to travel at a reasonable pace and have them prepare to leave. We will take only 20 of your fit men, and the Medjai with us."
The vaguest of murmurs of unhappiness at the small numbers allotted for protection amongst some of the civilians was silenced almost immediately by a sharp look from the crown prince.
"Those are my orders." He decreed, and waved a hand. "You will leave myself, my royal brother and cousin to our discussions." Dismissing them. They left as always bowing, and walking backwards. When they were gone he looked at Tuthmose.
"You are sure?"
"Yes." Tuthmose said seating himself. "Apart from the men, I would like to stay here, and see if anything further can be gleaned about what happened." He hesitated then decided to speak his mind a little "I cannot but find it strange that such a clever and well informed group would not ensure that we could not survive...." He looked from one to the other of them "....maybe they never really intended to finish us off. "
Akehton snorted. "You mean, that they would sacrifice themselves? Attack, knowing they would fail? To what end!?!?"
"I know not." Tuthmose admitted, feeling a little sheepish, but he defended his corner. "Maybe it was a mistake and they were misinformed to our numbers...or maybe they were misinformed on purpose? "
Rameses looked from brother to cousin. Tuthmose, was a quiet young man as much an intellectual as a warrior and probably prouder of the former. But had a tendency to be cynical about all interactions with non-Egyptians, often reading more into a foreigners actions and words then was there. It was an affliction of a young man, proud of his intellect but thrown into a diplomatic world which he knew to be underhand and devious and trying too hard to impress upon people, his older cousins especially, that he was no young naive. It was quite possible again, that he was reading more into this than met the eye. "I have often found you sharper than a serpents tooth, cousin. But like my brother I would again have to ask, to what end?"
Tuthmose had no real answer. "I....do not know. It's just... the feeling that there was more to this than...." He trailed off, frustrated and rather embarrassed.
"Well, as you are so alerted to this, maybe it is right and proper that you should be the one to remain with the men. Such keenness of mind will serve them well." Rameses said kindly.
"Or have them striking out at their own shadows." Akehton quipped.
The hazel eyed young man ignored his older cousin's good natured jibe and stood stiffly, all business. "I will go and check upon the men, and help with arrangements for your departure. Goodnight cousins." He bade them, they responded with their own good nights as he walked outside.
The commander of the guard stood not too far away giving his orders. Tuthmose approached him.
"How many of these did you find on the raiders?" he asked, holding up his find, of the medallion. On it, in ornate and delicate workmanship was an image, fashioned of silver, of a greyhound like dog, with a long pointed face, pricked ears and a tail that stood straight up. The God Set.
In the torchlight that lit the outside of the royal tent, the man at arms peered at what he was being shown. He shook his head.
"None my lord. As far as I am aware, that was the only one."
Tuthmose nodded and walked away, a little deflated. The hairs on the back of his well shorn neck, such as they were, had stood up when he saw the medallion's image, but he didn't know why. The worship of Set had been re-established by Rameses grandfather, and many people wore such medallions as a form of protection. But something about it had made him jumpy. Something about this entire situation made him jumpy.
He looked out into the desert night warily. Slipping the long oval medallion into his robe pocket, he turned and headed for the wounded.
"My lords, may I enter?" came a voice from outside the tent.
"Enter my friend." Rameses called, recognising Sekhnet. "And welcome."
The Priest of Isis walked in, his eyes tired, his white robe stained with blood.
"How fair the wounded?" Rameses said concerned, indicating for the priest to sit.
"3 more have died, lord," Sekhnet said lowering himself into a chair. "I believe 4 more will die during the night, the others, the physicians and I are hopeful for, providing we can get them proper attention."
"A small party of us will leave tonight. We should be in Thebes in a day and a half, help should be here in 3 days." Akehton informed him. Sekhnet nodded.
"Then, if the Gods are with us, we should lose maybe only 10 in total." He sat back with a sigh, just as Rameses sat forward.
"And, how is the rampager?" he asked softly. Sekhnet's eyes raised to his own.
"Apart from a dozen small cuts and one slight gash on his shoulder, he is in perfect health my lord prince."
Rameses sat back. "Incredible. And he is quiet and sedate again?" he asked curiously.
"Completely, my lord prince." Sekhnet shook his head "It's hard to believe that it is the same man."
"Have you ever heard of anyone fighting like that?" Akehton asked of the learned man.
Sekhnet thought. "I did hear tell once of a similar frenzy overtaking warriors in the heat of battle, but that was bestowed on them by the God, Horus as they sought to revenge and defend their king from the far greater numbers of the advancing warriors of Akkadia."
"Hah!" Rameses said triumphantly. "See?!?" he looked at his brother. "He is beyond perfect! Honourable and blessed by the Gods!"
"You did not ask whether they hacked each other to death after finishing the Akkadians." Akehton muttered.
Rameses ignored him. "He alerted the entire camp to the attack! The man saved my life on the field of battle today! Does that not prove his trustworthiness?"
"He also slaughtered dozens of men in the most...." Akehton began.
"You question his slaughter of our enemies?!" Rameses raised an eyebrow "Enough. You argue for the sake of it. Let us settle this." He turned to Sekhnet. "What do you think my friend. I have never known you wrong on the characterisation of a man. Do you feel that I can entrust our sisters safekeeping to one such as he, foreign though he may be?"
Sekhnet was quiet for a moment.
"My lords," he said finally. "I have spent much time with this man. I have taught him and learned from him at the same time as examining him beyond mere facts. I have tried to see his Ka, and have prayed on the matter to the Great Goddess." They all bowed their heads.
"And your conclusion?" Akehton said impatiently.
"He has much to learn yet about our ways but....but I believe, despite the short time, that there is no better man in whose hands you could place the safety of the flower of Egypt." The priest proclaimed with a smile. "He has sworn to you, If you order him to, he will protect her to the death. His honour, as he says, is his life."
