Pharaoh. Уилбур Смит

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СКАЧАТЬ days later I went aboard my own galley and we headed southwards, homeward bound for the golden city of Luxor. But my heart was still heavy and my thoughts were travelling in the opposite direction to that in which the wind and the banks of oars were carrying me.

      When we reached the port of Luxor below the city it seemed that the news of our magnificent victory at Memphis had been carried ahead of us by carrier pigeon to Pharaoh Utteric’s palace. Three of his senior ministers were waiting on the river wharf at the head of what appeared to be the entire population of Upper Egypt. In the background of this multitude there stood at least twenty wagons, each of them drawn by a team of twelve oxen. I presumed these were to carry the Hyksos treasure up to the city of Luxor where Pharaoh’s treasury, no doubt, stood ready and eager to receive it. A massed band of harps, flutes, lyres, trumpets, tambourines and drums were roaring out a spirited rendition of the new anthem to the glory of Pharaoh Utteric Turo, which it was rumoured he had composed himself. The Egyptian populace seemed to have stripped every palm tree in the land of its fronds which they waved enthusiastically as they chanted along with the bands.

      When my flagship docked at the main wharf I was prepared to acknowledge the praise and grateful thanks of Pharaoh Utteric Turo and all the people of Egypt for ridding them of the menace of Khamudi and his ghastly tribe for all time and for returning to them such a fabulous treasure from the enemy coffers.

      Utteric’s Chief Minister was a beautiful young man who had made a great fortune in the slave trade. His name was Lord Mennakt. He was a bosom companion of Pharaoh, and possibly much closer to him in the other more intimate parts of the flesh than merely the bosom; for I had heard it rumoured that they shared the same prurient predilections. A scribe must have written out his speech on a papyrus scroll, for he read it in a dreary monotone, stumbling over words of more than one syllable. I could have forgiven this lack of stagecraft, but what irked me at once was that he made no mention of my part in the final brilliant campaign which I had led against the Hyksos. In fact he did not mention my name at all. He spoke only of his patron Pharaoh Utteric Turo, and of the loyal and brave legions he was supposed to have commanded in battle. He extolled the leadership and courage of Pharaoh and his wisdom and sheer genius in liberating our very Egypt from a century of slavery and foreign domination. He pointed out that the five Pharaohs who had immediately preceded him, including his own father, Tamose, had been dolefully unsuccessful in their attempts to achieve the same conclusive results. He ended his tribute by pointing out that this magnificent victory had surely earned Pharaoh Utteric Turo a prominent place alongside Horus, Isis, Osiris and Hathor in the pantheon of our fatherland. For this reason, Mennakt explained, the main part of the treasure that Pharaoh Utteric had won from the Hyksos at Memphis would be used to build a temple to celebrate his rise above the mere human state to that of the celestial and immortal.

      While Lord Mennakt was regaling and enlightening us with this speech my crew was unloading the treasure that we had carried with us and piling it on the wharf. It made a magnificent display, which completely diverted the attention of the assembled multitudes away from Mennakt’s wit and mastery of the spoken word.

      When Mennakt finally stumbled into silence, the order was given and the wagons rolled forward and the sweating slaves loaded the treasure chests into them. Then the drivers cracked their long whips and an escort of heavily armed palace guards immediately surrounded them and they started up the causeway towards the main gates of the city of Luxor.

      All this took me completely by surprise. I had presumed that it would be my honour to lead this procession and to make the formal offering of the treasure to Pharaoh. When he accepted my gift Pharaoh would be obliged to accord me his full recognition and approval. I started forward to make my protest to Lord Mennakt and demand my rightful place at the head of the treasure train.

      What I had not been aware of in the press of bodies all around me and the exigencies of the moment was that six more high-ranking officers of the palace guards had come aboard my flagship from the crowd on the wharf. Without any fuss or outcry they had managed to surround me with a cocoon of armour and drawn weapons.

      ‘My Lord Taita, in accordance with Pharaoh’s express command I place you under arrest for high treason. Please come with me.’ The leader of this contingent spoke quietly but firmly in my ear. I turned and stared at him in astonishment. It took me a moment to realize that he was Captain Weneg for whom I had such a high regard.

      ‘What nonsense is this, Captain Weneg? I am probably Pharaoh’s most loyal subject,’ I protested indignantly. He ignored my outburst and nodded to his henchmen. Immediately they crowded me so closely that I could not struggle. I felt one of the men behind me slip my sword from its scabbard, and then I was being hustled to the gangplank. At the same time Lord Mennakt gestured to the band that was gathered behind him and they burst into yet another lively and spirited hymn of praise and worship to the divine Pharaoh, so that my protests were rendered inaudible. By the time my guards and I had reached the stone wharf, the dense crowds of spectators had turned away to follow the band and the procession of treasure wagons up the road to the main gates of the city.

      As soon as we were alone Captain Weneg gave orders to his men and they bound my wrists together at the small of my back with rawhide ropes, while others of their party brought up four war chariots. When they had me trussed up securely they pushed me up on to the footplate of the leading chariot. The whips cracked and we set off at a canter, not following the bands and the treasure train up the hill towards the main city gates, but taking one of the subsidiary tracks that bypassed the city, and then branched off towards the rocky hills beyond. The track was little used; in fact it was assiduously avoided by most of the citizenry. This was not extraordinary when its final destination was taken into consideration. Less than five leagues beyond the royal palace and the main city walls rose a low line of hills; and sitting astride their summit was a sombre edifice of chiselled native rock, a sullen shade of blue in colour and unambiguous in design. This was the royal prison, which also housed the gallows yard and the state torture chambers.

      We had to cross a small stream of water to reach the slopes of the hills. The bridge was narrow and the hooves of the horses hammered loudly on it; to my heated imagination they sounded almost like the drumbeat of the Death March. My escort and I were not accosted until we reached the appropriately named Gates of Torment and Sorrow, which gave access through the massive masonry wall into the bowels of the prison. Captain Weneg jumped down from the footplate of our vehicle and hammered on the doors with the hilt of his sword. Almost immediately a black-clad warder appeared on the bridge of the portcullis high above us. His head was enclosed in a hood of the same colour and it hid his features entirely except for his eyes and mouth.

      ‘Who seeks entry here?’ he bellowed down at us.

      ‘Prisoner and escort!’ Weneg replied.

      ‘Enter at your peril,’ the warder warned us. ‘But know ye, all enemies of Pharaoh and Egypt are eternally doomed once they are within these walls!’ Then the portcullis was raised ponderously and we drove through. We were the only vehicle to enter. The other three of our escort remained outside the walls when the portcullis rumbled closed once again.

      The interior walls of the first courtyard were decorated by rows of niches that rose tier upon tier to such a height that I had to throw my head right back to see the tiny square of blue sky high above.

      In each niche grinned a human skull: hundreds upon hundreds of them. It was not the first time I had passed this way. On occasion I had visited other unfortunates who had been incarcerated within these walls, to offer them what little help and comfort was in my gift. However, my spirit never failed to quail and my skin to crawl at the presence of death in such dire abundance; more so now that the threat was so personal and particular to me.

      ‘This is as far as I can take you, Lord Taita,’ Weneg said quietly. ‘Please understand that I am merely following my orders. There is nothing СКАЧАТЬ