Eye of the Moon (25 page)

Anoukhet wriggled alongside me and squeezed my hand.

Katep pinched some sand between his fingers and let it blow so he could tell the direction of the wind. He whispered to Tuthmosis. “It's in our favor. We'll be able to get up close without being heard. I need to be sure of their weapons.” Then he turned to us. “Stay here. Don't
dare
follow! Use the call of the fiery-necked nightjar to warn us if necessary.”

And with that they were gone, ghostly shadows sneaking down the dune alongside the cliffs.

“The fiery-necked nightjar?” I whispered into
Anoukhet's ear. I could hardly control the chattering of my teeth. “Do you know its call?”

In the moonlight I saw her smile and nod. “Good Horus . . . deliver us! Good Horus . . . deliver us!” she whispered back.

They seemed to be gone forever. We watched and waited while the fires burned down and the men began to settle for the night. The sand was cold. A chill wind had sprung up. I felt for the cowrie shell and moonstone eye at my throat and listened to the strange night sounds. The desert seemed more threatening in the moonlight.

We heard no call of a fiery-necked nightjar but from somewhere came the long, eerie shrieks of a desert hyena. I longed to be safely back at the camp.

Anoukhet wriggled her body to get more comfortable. “It's as cold as a dead man's heart. I wish I'd gone with them.” She took a leather flask from her girdle bag, pulled the stopper, and took a gulp. “Have some!”

It was palm wine. I felt the warmth of it in my throat. I needed another sip to steady my nerves and bring back feeling into my arms and legs.

Eventually, when the moon disappeared behind
a cloud, there was a movement ahead. Two figures loomed up out of the shadows. For a moment my heart stopped. Then I saw it was Katep and Tuthmosis.

“What took you so long?” Anoukhet hissed.

“We had to wait for cloud cover. The moon was too bright to make a dash for it. Let's go! Hurry, now!”

When we were back in camp, the commander called a meeting with Katep and Tuthmosis and the other phalanx leaders. Anoukhet and I sat listening at a distance.

“So many you say. And their weapons?”

“The usual. Some fine-looking daggers. Bronze-headed spears. Plenty of khopesh swords with sickle blades, which don't seem too well honed. Looks more as if they'll use them as blunt chopping instruments. They'll break a neck easily. Or crush a windpipe with a good swing.”

I swallowed hard. I didn't want to hear this.

Tuthmosis spoke hurriedly. “Their deadliest weapon is the chariot with an archer handpicking targets at top speed. The chariots are light and open-backed with just a handrail for balance and have the stronger six-spoke wheel. They're ideal for rough
ground but will be difficult to maneuver in soft sand.”

Katep nodded. “Their major mistake is that they've used the cliffs as a hiding place for the chariots, instead of encircling the camp with them for protection. If we attack, the chariots are deep behind their foot soldiers instead of out in front. They've yet to harness the horses. And there's not enough space to get them out quickly. Each chariot needs its own distance in order to allow for a wheel turn.”

The commander looked between the two of them. “What do you propose?”

Katep smoothed a place in the sand, took up a stick, and began drawing. “If this is the river and here're the cliffs, we should gather hidden behind the cliffs, then come around on either side in a pincer movement, our bows at the ready. Without the chariots and the chariot runners being able to charge our lines, we'll quickly take the upper hand and control the battle. But the big element for success must be surprise.”

The commander glanced around at them. “There's not a moment to waste, then. We must attack now!”

The meeting broke up. Katep went among the men of his phalanx and began to hiss out instructions and words of encouragement. “Keep your voices
down! Make yourself ready! Our weapon is surprise! Strength to you!”

There was a brittle edge to his voice, but I knew this was the moment he had been waiting for.

I hurried across the camp to help Kha hand out arrows. Not all the soldiers were as brave as I'd imagined. Some came forward with their faces pale in the moonlight, and I heard quick incantations and from some sides even the sound of retching.

When Tuthmosis came for his arrows, I wanted to hold them back from him and plead with him not to go. But I forced myself to say the words he needed to hear. “This is your chance. Let Wosret know your strength! May the lioness Sekhmet fight at your side.”

I could tell his head was already somewhere else. “Keep safe!” was all he said.

When Anoukhet came, she thrust Kyky into my arms. “Look after her.”

“What? What are you doing?”

“Why else have I trained?”

“Wait for me, then.” But she was gone before I got a reply. And by the time the arrows were all handed out, the camp was almost deserted.

“I can't stay, Kha. I have to join them. Look after Kyky for me.”

“A battlefield is no place for a girl!”

“Anoukhet's gone. You've always said an archer's only as good as his bow and arrow. If you made the bow and I made the arrow, then surely . . . ?”

But there was nothing I was sure of.

He kissed my forehead. “Take care. Be sure to fetch this monkey from me afterward.”

The troops were already far ahead. I could just make out the dark massed shadow of them crawling over the sand dune in the distance, their shields moving like the plates on a giant armadillo.

We had timed it well. Hathor was on our side. She had pulled her moon eye from the sky. It was that dark time that comes just before dawn.

The sand dragged heavily at my boots as I struggled to catch up. The burden of the bow and the quiver full of arrows weighed me down. I'd forgotten to bring a water skin and already my throat felt parched. I longed for a sip of palm wine now to still my thumping heart.

It was strange and unnerving being out in the desert on my own. A mist was sweeping up from the river. Wreaths of it hung low, hugging the dunes and
lying in the valleys. I'd lost sight of the men, as they carried no torches. But from the stars that occasionally showed between the mist, I knew the direction to take. Once among the bowmen, I knew I'd find Anoukhet and Tuthmosis.

When I saw a figure approaching, I imagined it might be Anoukhet looking for me. But the figure was joined by others, and something about their outlines as they came forward through the mist made me change my mind. I began to run in the opposite direction.

“Halt!” I heard a rough Egyptian voice call out. “Hold up or we shoot.”

I wrenched my bow from my shoulder and began to load an arrow. If I was fast enough, I could shoot before they had time to draw theirs. But before I had taken up my stance, I heard the unmistakable whisper of a feathered arrow in full flight. With no time to steady my hands, I pulled back the sinew with all my strength and let my arrow fly in return. The kick of the bow ripped me in the chest and knocked me flat to the ground.

But the kick was not from my bow. It was from their arrow. It had hit me just above my collarbone.

I felt around the shaft. My hands came away
sticky with blood. A wave of nausea swept over me. The arrow needed to come out quickly before the poison took effect. I clasped the shaft, willing my hands to stop trembling. Waiting for the rip and tear of flesh as I pulled, I clenched my jaw, thinking I would die from the pain.

But I felt nothing. The arrow had not been embedded. My moonstone amulet had blocked the full impact of its entry. The tip had lodged in my cloak and only grazed my skin.

But before I had time to feel relief, I was surrounded by three soldiers. They seemed more boys than men. One shoved his foot against my chest and pinned me to the ground. “Hold your swords, men! Before we kill the Kushite spy, let's find out what he knows.”

My mind was racing. How could I save myself? How could I turn this to my advantage? I struggled to find the right words. “I'm
not
Kush. I'm Egyptian . . . like you.”

“Not Kush, eh?” He bent down and jerked my chin toward the dawn light that was beginning to break and looked hard into my face. “You have Egyptian features, but you're too dark.”

“I've been in the desert a long time. The sun has burned me.”

“Ha! And what would an Egyptian be doing so far from Egypt here among the Kush?”

I bit my lip, trying to think of the right response. “You might well ask.”

“So? Were you captured by the Kush? Or are you an Egyptian deserter? Which is it?”

“I . . .”

One of the soldiers grabbed me by the shoulder and wrenched me upright. In doing so, he ripped open my cloak. He stared down. “What? A girl! What's a girl doing in a soldier's uniform?” He pushed his pimply face close to mine. I smelled the fumes of wine and the stink of onions and goat meat on his breath.

I tried to duck away but his hand gripped my shoulder all the harder. He twisted one of my arms behind my back.

“I can explain.” I tried to shrug him off. “Let go of me.”

“No explanations are needed.” He held a dagger against my throat. “Girl or not, you die! Scream all you want. There's no one to hear you!”

I reached back with my free hand, and with all the strength I had, I thrust my fingers at his pimply face. Thrust as hard as I could. A short, sharp jab that found the jelly of his eyes.

He sprang back in rage, clutching his face. “She's blinded me!”

One of his friends laughed. “She's not blinded you! But it would serve you right for behaving like a goat! This girl's got more to tell than you think. She carries a Kushite bow and Kushite arrows. An Egyptian carrying Kushite weapons will aid us. How far back is their army?”

I shook my head. “No!” I spit out. “You mistake me. I'm
not
a Kushite soldier. I'm a
spy—
a spy working on the Egyptian side, dressed to look like a Kushite to blend in with them. So I won't be recognized.”

He shook his head. “The Egyptian army does not employ girls as spies. But
if
it's so, then you won't mind being taken back to the Egyptian camp to tell your story. If it's
not
so and you're a traitor . . . then how fortunate! Girls speak easily when under torture.” He turned to the others. “Hold your daggers. We'll take her back to camp.”

   
25
   
SEKHMET, LIONESS OF WAR

I
n the darkness I was dragged down the dune by the men and led into their camp among Egyptian soldiers sleeping on the ground. They grumbled and cursed at us for disturbing them. But before there was any chance of questioning me, shouts and bellows and more curses rang out from all directions.

“We're under attack!”

“Quick! Get the horses harnessed. Move the chariots out. Hurry to it!”

“It's the Kushites!”