As soon as the compound had quietened down and the sentries on the wall were dozing, Kidogo appeared in the darkness of Pandion’s cell.
The two friends crawled quickly to the wall and turned into the narrow corridor between the cells. They reached the north wall where the shadows in the corridor were deepest of all. The sentries rarely walked along this wall, they could observe the compound more easily from the western and eastern walls, looking along the corridors between the cells. There was, therefore, no danger that the sentries above would hear their whispered conversation.
No less than sixty slaves lay in two rows in the corridor, their feet pressed against the walls and their heads together. Cavius and Remdus were in the middle. The elder Etruscan called Pandion and Kidogo to him in a whisper.
Feeling for the Etruscan’s hand, Pandion passed to him the dagger he had brought with him. Cavius felt the cold metal in some perplexity, cut his hand on the sharp blade and then avidly gripped the weapon, whispering his thanks.
The experienced old soldier had yearned for weapons and the dagger brought joy to his heart. He also realized that by handing the precious dagger over to him the Hellene recognized his seniority and had, without words, elected him the leader.
He did not stop to ask Pandion where he had got the-dagger, but began to talk in whispers, making long pauses so that those near him could pass his words on to their more distant comrades who were out of hearing.
The conference of the leaders had begun — the question of the life and liberty of five hundred slaves, imprisoned in the shehne, was to be decided.
Cavius said that the rebellion could not be put off any longer, that there was no hope in the future, the situation would only get worse if the slaves were again broken up into groups and sent in different directions.
“The strength that is our only guarantee of success in struggle is being undermined by the heavy drudgery required by our taskmasters; every month in captivity means loss of health and vitality. Death in battle is honourable and joyful; it is a thousand times easier to die in battle than to die under the blows of a whip.”
A unanimous whisper of approval passed along the rows of invisible listeners.
“We must not delay the revolt,” continued Cavius, “but there is one condition that must be fulfilled: we must find a way out of this accursed country. Even if we are joined by two or three other shehne, even if we are able to get weapons, our forces will still be small and we shall not be able to hold out for long. Ever since the Great Revolt of the slaves the rulers of Quemt have done everything possible to keep the slaves divided in separate compounds, we have no contact with the others and we shall not be able to arouse a large number of people simultaneously. We are right in the capital, where there are many soldiers, and we shall not be able to fight our way through the country. The archers of Aigyptos are a te-rri-ble force; we shall not have many bows, and not everybody will be able to use them. Let us think whether we can make our way through the desert to the east or the west. We may find ourselves in the desert shortly after leaving the shehne. If we are unable to cross the desert, then I think we must drop the idea of a revolt — it will be a useless waste of effort and a tormenting death. Then let only those of us flee that are prepared to make the attempt to pass through certain death with a faint hope of liberty. I, for example, will make the attempt.”
Excited whispers filled the air around the now silent Etruscan.
His words, passed from end to end of the rows of slaves, had at first aroused militant ardour in the listeners, but now doubt was spreading amongst those bold leaders. His words took away all hope of a successful outcome; they removed even the ghost of a chance, so that the bravest of the warriors wavered. Whispers in many languages carried down the coal-black tunnel of the corridor.
An Amu, a Semite from the land beyond the Blue Waters, crawled to the centre of the group where the four friends lay. Men of the Amu tribe constituted a large proportion of the inhabitants of the shehne.
“I insist on a revolt. Let death be our lot but we shall be revenged on the accursed people of this accursed land! We will be an example to be followed by others! Too long has Quemt been living in peace, the brutal art of oppression has robbed millions of slaves of the will to fight. We will light the flames of revolt.”
“It’s good that you think like that, you’re a brave man,” Cavius interrupted him. “But what will you say to those whom you will lead?”
“I will say the same to them,” answered the Semite fervently.
“Are you sure they’ll follow you?” whispered the Etruscan. “The truth is too painful… and lies are useless under such circumstances — the people will easily sense the truth. To them the truth is that which each carries in his own heart.”
The Semite did not answer him. In the meantime the lean, lithe body of the Libyan Akhmi squeezed through the rows of recumbent men. Pandion knew that this young slave, captured during a battle at the Horns of the Earth, came from a noble family. He assured them that near the tombs of the most ancient kings of Quemt, near the cities of Tinis and Abydos, a road led to the southwest as far as Wahet-Wer, a big oasis in the desert. It was a road with good wells, plenty of water and was not guarded by troops. They had to plunge into the desert immediately behind the temple Zesher-Zesheru, turn southwest and cross the road at a point a hundred and twenty thousand cubits from the river. The Libyan undertook to lead them to the road and farther. There were but few troops at the oasis and the insurgents could easily seize it. The next stage was a mere twenty-five thousand cubits across the desert to the next oasis, Pasht, that stretched westward in a long, narrow strip. Farther still they would find the Oasis of Mut, whence a route with wells led to the hills of the Dead Serpent; from this latter place there was a road leading southwards to the Land of the Blacks, which the Libyan did not know.
“I know that road,” Kidogo put in. “I travelled that road in the first year of my captivity.”
“There’s a good supply of dates at the oases and we can rest there. There are no fortifications at any of them and we can take pack animals with us; with their help we can get as far as the Dead Serpent and from then on, beyond the Salt Lake, there’s more water.”
The Libyan’s plan was generally approved. It seemed quite possible of fulfilment.
The ever-cautious Cavius, however, asked the Libyan more questions.
“Are you certain that there are wells at a distance of a hundred and twenty thousand cubits from the river? It’s a long journey to make.”
“It may be a little more,” answered the Libyan calmly. “A strong man can make that journey without water under one condition — we must start no later than — midnight and march without a halt. You can’t live more than twenty-four hours without water in the desert, nor can you march in the afternoon.”
One of the Asians, a Heriusha, proposed attacking the fortress on the road to the harbour of Suu, but, despite the fact that this plan was very attractive to the slaves, most of whom were Asians, and to the Amu, it was dropped since it was agreed that it would be impossible to fight their way to the east.
The Libyan’s plan was more promising although there was disagreement between the Negroes and the Asians: the road to the south-west took the Asians still farther from their native land, but it was advantageous to the Negroes and the Libyans. The Libyans hoped to travel northwards from the Oasis of Mut and reach that part of their country that was not under the rule of the Egyptians. Pandion and the Etruscans intended going with the Libyans.