Lords of the Two Lands #01 - The Hippopotamus Marsh by Pauline Gedge

Author:Pauline Gedge [Gedge, Pauline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Historical, Egypt
ISBN: 9780143167457
Publisher: Penguin Group USA
Published: 1998-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

9

BY THE TIME the sun had sunk red and sullen behind the western cliffs the field belonged to Pezedkhu. Those of Seqenenra’s pitiful army who had not been killed or did not lie wounded on the scorching ground had run for the shelter of the tumbled rocks beneath the cliffs and it was there, close to the defile through which they had marched such a short time before, that Si-Amun found Kamose and Hor-Aha together with a few officers. They were hidden in a sandy gap about a quarter of the way up the rocky incline. They could look out upon the chaos of the battlefield without being seen and could if necessary defend their position for a little while. Si-Amun, scrambling mindlessly among the boulders, had almost fallen on them. He greeted them without enthusiasm. Kamose had been wounded in the side and his cheek had been laid open by a knife thrust. Hor-Aha nursed a shattered shoulder with his usual taciturnity. “Where is Father?” Kamose demanded as Si-Amun collapsed into the sand and closed his eyes. “You were supposed to guard him, Si-Amun.”

“Don’t be a fool, “ Si-Amun croaked. “I tried, the Braves tried, but what could we do once the battle began to go against us? I was knocked from the chariot when the horses panicked and ran. Father was pinned under it. He was helpless. Immediately I began to fight my way to him but I was too late.”

“He is dead?” Hor-Aha demanded softly. Si-Amun nodded. Kamose stared at him, noting the tracks his tears had made in the dirt of his face, the blood and mire encrusting him.

“Is there any water?” Si-Amun asked faintly. Kamose shook his head, fingering the red slit on his cheek and wincing.

“No water, no food,” Hor-Aha answered. “We need both, and the physician, wherever he might be. If Amun has been merciful we will find all when we can go into the defile where the supply donkeys should be waiting. There is such a mess before the path. We must hope that the donkey drivers have been clever enough to withdraw towards the desert and Pezedkhu’s men are too tired to explore, particularly at night.”

Si-Amun crawled to the tiny vertical split in the rock and looked down towards the river. The sun’s afterglow lit the land in a deep scarlet haze. The air was full of dust and still very hot. Pezedkhu’s soldiers were moving among the slain, knives drawn. Some were recovering the chariots that lay overturned and horseless among the dead, and others were gathering up the precious bows, but most were going methodically from body to body, kneeling to saw off a hand from each one. Si-Amun withdrew. “They are collecting our bows and taking hands for the tally,” he said. “How many died, I wonder? We must recover Father’s body as soon as possible. Pray Amun they do not find him to take a hand from him!”

No one replied. Hor-Aha sat propped against a stone, his shoulder a mess of mangled flesh, his eyes drooping closed.

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