Nobody that I know of can paint a hieroglyph as artistically as my beloved Tehuti. She had rendered ‘The Falcon With a Broken Wing’, which is my hieroglyph, so that it seemed to be endowed with a life of its own and fly from the painted sheet of papyrus through the mist of tears that filled my eyes, and go straight to my heart.
The words she wrote touched me so intimately that I cannot bring myself to repeat them to another living soul.
On the third morning after leaving our moorings below the city of Luxor our flotilla had reached a point only twenty leagues upstream of the Hyksos stronghold of Memphis, which stood on both banks of the Nile. There we beached our galleys, and we unloaded the chariots. The grooms drove up the horses and sorted them into their teams, and the charioteers buckled them into the traces.
The three of us held a final war council aboard the flagship of the Lacedaemon fleet, during which we once again ran over our plans in minute detail, covering every possible contingency that we might encounter during the assault on Memphis, then I embraced both Hui and Hurotas quickly but fervently and called down the blessing and favours of all the gods upon each of them before we parted company. I set off with my team of chariots for the head of the Red Sea to block the Hyksos escape route from Egypt, while the others continued their voyage northwards until they were in a position to launch their final assault on the stronghold of the Hyksos chieftain, Khamudi.
When Hurotas and Hui reached the harbour below the city of Memphis they found that Khamudi had already abandoned it and set fire to the shipping moored within its stone jetties. The pall of black smoke from the burning vessels was visible even to me and my charioteers waiting on the border of Egypt at Suez many leagues distant. However, Hurotas and Hui arrived in time to save nearly thirty of the Hyksos galleys from the flames, but of course we had not enough crews to man these valuable ships.
This is where my squadron of chariots came into play. Within only hours of taking up our stations along the border of Egypt with Suez and the Sinai we were hard at work rounding up the hundreds of refugees who were fleeing from the doomed city of Memphis. Of course each one of them was laden down with their valuables.
These captives were sorted carefully. The elderly and infirm were first relieved of all their possessions and then allowed to wander away into the Sinai Desert, after being charged never again to return to Egypt. The young and strong were roped together in gangs of ten, and then I started them back towards Memphis and the Nile still carrying their possessions and those of their compatriots who had been allowed to proceed. In the case of the men these captives, no matter how illustrious their rank, were destined to a short life chained on the rowing benches of our galleys, or labouring like beasts of burden in the fields on the banks of the Nile; whereas the younger women – those who were not too grotesquely ugly – would be sent to do service in the public brothels, and the rest of them would find employment in the kitchens or the dungeons of the great mansions of our very Egypt. The roles had been completely reversed, and they would receive the same treatment as they had dealt out to us Egyptians when they had us in their power.
When we reached the city of Memphis with these doleful lines of captives marching ahead of our chariots we found it under siege by Hurotas’ legions. However, chariots are not the most effective means of siege-breaking, so my dashing charioteers were dismounted and set to tunnelling beneath the walls to excavate a series of breaches to enable us to winkle out Khamudi and his rogues from their sullen lurking within the city.
Like all sieges this was a dreary and time-consuming exercise. Our army was forced to encamp outside the walls of Memphis for almost six months before, with a rumble and a roar, and a column of dust that was visible for many leagues around, the entire ramparts of the eastern section of the city collapsed upon themselves and our men could pour through the breaches.
The sack of the city went on for many more days for it was spread on both banks of the river. However, our victorious troops were at last able to apprehend Khamudi, where he and his family were found cowering in their hiding place deep in the dungeons beneath his palace. It was most fortuitous that they were sitting on a vast treasure of silver and gold bars, as well as innumerable large chests of jewellery that had taken him and his predecessors almost a century to collect from the enslaved Egyptian populace. This brood of royal rogues and rascals was escorted down to the harbour on the Nile by Hurotas’ troops, where to the accompaniment of music and laughter they were drowned one after another, beginning with the youngest members of the family.
These were a pair of twin girls of about two or three years of age. Contrary to what I had come to expect of the tribe they were not really repulsive to look at; in fact they were pretty little mites. Their father Khamudi wept as they were plunged into the Nile and held beneath the surface of the river. I was not prepared for that either. Somehow I had come to believe that, like all the brute animals, the Hyksos were incapable of loving and grieving.
The dreaded Khamudi himself was reserved for last on the execution roster. When his turn came he was accorded a more elaborate departure from this world than the others of his family. This began with skinning him alive using knives that were heated to a glowing red in charcoal braziers; followed by drawing and quartering, which evoked further merriment from the spectators. It seemed that Hurotas’ men have a particularly robust sense of humour.
I managed to maintain a neutral countenance during these proceedings. I would have much preferred to have taken no part in them, but had I absented myself it would have been seen as a display of weakness by my men. Appearances are vital, and reputations ephemeral.
Hurotas, Hui and I were subdued on our return to the Memphis palace. However, we soon became our usual cheerful and lively selves when we began counting and cataloguing the contents of the cellars beneath the palace of Khamudi. I find it truly remarkable how when all else in life has lost its flavour, gold alone retains its full fascination and appeal.
Even though we had fifty of Hurotas’ most trusted men to assist us, it took us several days to lay out all of this treasure. When at last we turned our lanterns upon this mass of precious metal and coloured stones the reflected light was strong enough to dazzle us. We stared at it in awe and astonishment.
‘Do you recall the Cretan treasure we captured at the fortress of Tamiat?’ Hurotas asked me in hushed tones.
‘When you were still a young captain of legionaries, and your name was Zaras? I will never forget it. I thought that there was not that much silver and gold in the whole wide world.’
‘That was not even one-tenth part of what we have here and now,’ Hurotas pointed out.
‘This is just as well,’ I replied
Both Hurotas and Hui looked at me askance. ‘How is that, Taita?’
‘That is because we have to share it at least four ways,’ I explained, and when they were still uncomprehending I went on: ‘You and Hui; me and Utteric Turo.’
‘You don’t mean Utteric, that utter prick, do you?’ Hurotas looked aghast.
‘Exactly!’ I confirmed, ‘Utteric the Great, the Pharaoh of Egypt. This treasure was originally stolen from his ancestors.’
They considered what I had said in silence for a while and then Hurotas asked tactfully, ‘So then it seems that you intend to remain in Utteric Turo’s realm?’
‘Naturally!’ I was taken aback by the question. ‘I am an Egyptian nobleman. I possess vast estates in this country. Where else would I go?’
‘Do you trust him?’
‘Who?’
‘Utteric the Utter Prick; who else?’ Hurotas demanded of me.
‘He is my Pharaoh. Of course I trust him.’