The captain of the guard interrupted my evening meal, asking me to join him at the makeshift gate in our line of carts and chariots. He was a Nubian, a foot soldier who had cursed every wheeled vehicle throughout the entire expedition; now he tapped the wheels of a chariot and loudly thanked the Gods for such defence. He shouted at the archers on the top of the wagons to loose fire arrows. ‘I’ll show you why, my lord. You must see this before you retire.’
The fire arrows were loosed, the archers concentrating on one spot. Those eerie growls from the darkness increased. In the light of the falling arrows I glimpsed the prowlers: monstrous hyaenas with great heavy heads, long snouts and powerful jaws; glaring red eyes, their ruffed manes like collars of darkness around their necks.
‘They recognise this as a place of slaughter,’ the mercenary whispered. ‘My lord, they are more dangerous than the lions if they attack in a pack.’
‘Why should they?’
‘They have been brought here by the corpses,’ he muttered. ‘We also ring the only source of fresh water for miles. They have smelled our food from the camp fires as well as the fresh flesh of our horses and donkeys, my lord Mahu.’ His face twisted in anxiety. ‘We should not stay here too long.’
I stayed at the gate, staring out into the darkness, the sweat chilling on the nape of my neck. I had heard about these hyaenas, striped and powerful, and more dangerous than their cousins who prowled the edge of town or slunk into the City of the Dead in search of some morsel. These creatures were ruthless hunters, as well as scavengers. I recalled stories told by desert scouts: how once these beasts smelt blood they’d track an injured man for days, whilst camp fires and weapons, palisades and fences sometimes proved no deterrent. I ordered the horses and pack ponies to be brought closer into the camp and redoubled the guard. I offered rewards to any man who could devise a better way of defending the camp. The only suggestions were to increase the lines of small fires and issue strict instructions how the perimeter was not to be crossed at night. People were to sleep in groups, whilst, even during the day, no patrols should be fewer than three men, one of whom must be a bowman.
The next morning we began the grisly task of collecting the remains. I sent scouts and carts far into the valley, and they returned carrying baskets piled high with bones and skulls as well as scraps of clothing, leather and weaponry. We burned them as an act of purification as well as reverence. We began work before dawn, resting during the midday heat and continuing until darkness fell. The valley was long and steep-sided; caves lay on each side, concealed behind clumps of gorse and bush, each containing the remains of survivors, men, women and children, as well as the bones of their animals. It was a hideous, heart-searing task. One scout brought in a basket of skulls, all belonging to children, as well as the pathetic remains of their toys. The funeral fires were kept burning not just to purify that place of abomination; the flames and smoke also kept back the hyaenas, who, during the day, would watch from afar. Now and again they’d close in, heads down, almost nosing the ground, loping along before bursting into a full, stretched run, only to be driven back by a hail of arrows or burning cloths soaked in oil. At night they became bolder, drawing closer; on the third night they attacked one of the carts, snatching off a guard, dragging him screaming into the darkness. There was nothing we could do to help but stand and listen to his horrific screams, the yelping of the prowlers, and the sound of their powerful jaws tearing him apart. We lit fires on the far side of the carts; archers were instructed to fire the occasional volley of flaring arrows into the night.
My men became restless. The valley was a haunting, sombre place, a hall of prowling demons and restless spirits. By late afternoon the rocks were fiery to the touch, and above us, an ominous warning of what might happen, great feathery winged vultures circled. On the fourth day the hyaenas attacked early in the morning. One patrol became detached from the rest. Three men struggling with baskets were ambushed just within the valley by a group of hyaenas who attacked so savagely, so swiftly, there was little we could do to help. The men grew mutinous. They hated the brooding, ominous silence and feared these powerful creatures audacious enough to attack during the day. At the end of the week I gave the orders for preparations to leave. I had discovered nothing startling, but had collected sufficient evidence to understand what had happened.
‘In all, about four hundred souls,’ I dictated to Djarka, sitting like a scribe, a papyrus scroll across his lap, ‘died here: men, women and children, soldiers, scribes and officials. They included the refugees from Buhen and Thebes, as well as Meryre’s retinue from Memphis. There were soldiers, possibly mercenaries, amongst their company, all fervent Atenists. They gathered here carts, chariots and pack animals, dependent on Apiru guides. They intended to slip north across Sinai into Canaan, protected by a force dispatched from Thebes which consisted of at least an entire chariot squadron, archers and veteran foot soldiers.’
‘How do you know that?’ Djarka asked.
‘We found the wheel of one of their chariots, probably broken off as they were pursuing survivors. General Nakhtimin supervised this massacre on the orders of Lord Ay. Most of the arrowheads found belong to Kushite bowmen, who support the various chariot squadrons. We also found the head cloth of a member of an imperial regiment. General Nakhtimin didn’t have it all his own way; the Atenists fought back. The attack began near the oasis. Some fled into the desert, where they died or were killed by their pursuers or sand-dwellers. The rest took refuge in the valley, hiding in its caves. Nakhtimin’s force must have stayed here for days, hunting down fugitives; scouts have found evidence of their camp fires and latrine pits.’
‘And Meryre?’
‘I suspect Meryre and a group of soldiers, probably mercenaries and scribes, fled at the beginning of the massacre. They must have hidden before making their way via a more circuitous route back to the river.’
I was interrupted by a loud scream, more like the keening of a mourning woman, a shrill cry of anguish from the heart which echoed across the camp. I whirled round. Mert was kneeling on the ground, clawing at her hair and beating her breast. She had silently approached us, knelt and listened to what I had said. If Djarka had seen her, he hadn’t commented, now used to her constant presence. She had been touched by Ma’at; the truth about what I had said had stirred her memory. Djarka put his writing tray aside and hurried to comfort her, crouching down, arms about her shoulders. She must have knelt for at least an hour, rocking backwards and forwards, eyes closed, cheeks wet with tears. Servants and guards, alarmed by her screams, came hurrying up. I drove them away, ordering one of them to bring a cup of wine with a tincture of our precious opium. Djarka fed her this, and between sobs, she gave her own account.
She and her father and two brothers had been part of the Apiru scouts. They had accepted the task without demur, being promised lavish rewards, reinforced by the bonds of friendship between themselves and many of the Atenists. According to Mert, Lord Tutu had led his people out of the fortress of Buhen and been joined by others from Thebes. They had gathered at an oasis miles to the north-east of Thebes, where the Apiru had met them. She talked of at least four hundred people, a horde of pack animals and carts well provisioned and guarded by mercenaries. They had arrived at the Valley of the Grey Dawn and been joined by Meryre and other stragglers from their company. They were in good spirits, determined to leave Egypt, cross Sinai and enter Canaan. Lord Tutu was of Canaanite birth; he believed that in the new territories they would be able to worship their God under the protection of the Hittite king, as well as those princes of Canaan hostile to Egypt.