I redoubled the watch. My guards had reported sightings of a huge hyaena pack led by a fearsome brute; the men had nicknamed it Seth, as it showed little fear of fire or our weapons. The presence of so much flesh, the sweet smell of the cooking and the lure of fresh water had stirred them into a killing frenzy. During the third watch of the night the entire hyaena pack attacked the camp. If I were superstitious, I would have thought the beasts were possessed by some evil demon: they struck skilfully and cunningly. They decided the gate was the weak point, and exploited the gaps between the carts. In their first assault they concentrated on two guards, leaping on to the carts, tearing them down almost before the alarm could be raised. The gap they created allowed the others to penetrate the camp. I was woken by screams, by the braying of conch horns, men shouting and yelling. I burst out of my tent, Djarka behind me, and glimpsed the hideous shapes. They didn’t so much attack us as try and force their way through to the horse lines, which provided easier prey. The sounds and sights were horrendous. Horses maddened by fear broke their traces, some pounding through the camp, others finding a gap out into the desert where others of the pack were waiting. It was a night of searing screams and hot spurting blood. The hyaenas were cunning. They would attack any man by himself but kept well clear of those sensible enough to organise themselves into a circle or square bristling with lances, shields and the sharp barbed points of our archers.
We lost six men that night and about twenty horses. Six more animals had to be destroyed later, and it took us about an hour to clear the camp. We killed at least eight of the pack, including the leader, but they’d got what they came for. I decided to break camp immediately and flee that place. By dawn we were already on the march, leaving the hyaenas the victors of the field, hoping their kills of the previous night would distract them for a while. We abandoned many of our chariots and only stopped to distribute water when the noonday heat became too intense. We marched by day with a short rest at night; the only way to calm the men and impose any sort of order was to put as much distance between ourselves and the Valley of the Grey Dawn as possible.
After four days of forced marching the men were grey with exhaustion, and our beasts began to flounder, but even the most anxious amongst the standard-bearers conceded that the danger was behind us.
We rested at an oasis where a huge stela of Tuthmosis II boasted how this place was in the power of Egypt and its water belonged to Pharaoh. We were so thirsty, hot and tired, we couldn’t have cared if the Devourers from the Underworld had owned it. We took our rest and counted our losses: at least two dozen men over all and about thirty of our beasts. We continued our march in some semblance of order, alarmed by the growing interest of desert wanderers, who had learned that something had happened and realised our strength was considerably weakened. I ordered the men to wear battle harnesses and to advance as if expecting attack. The desert wanderers took notice of this and disappeared. Now and again they would reappear to dog our flanks, looking for any weaknesses or stragglers.
Five weeks after leaving the Valley of the Grey Dawn, we reached the rocky, barren expanse leading to the eastern cliffs and down to the City of the Aten. We entered the city at dawn, and even then I knew something was wrong. The streets were busy enough, the markets preparing for the day, but dark glances and mutterings showed our presence was not appreciated. The palace was heavily fortified and defended. Nebamun was more interested in informing us about what had occurred in the city than asking what had happened out in the Red Lands. I immediately demanded to see the Prince. Once I had satisfied myself about his health and safety, I met with Nebamun and his officers out in the garden. We sat in a circle under the shade of a sycamore tree. Both Djarka and I had bathed and shaved, washing away the dirt and dust. I felt so tired, my limbs ached.
‘I have talked to my men,’ the old colonel began. ‘They have described your expedition to that place of slaughter.’
‘My lord Ay and the Royal Circle,’ I replied, ‘will be informed soon enough.’
Nebamun half smiled at the snub, though his staff officers glowered at me. One of them spoke up.
‘We lost good men and horses.’
‘Horses die!’ I snapped. ‘Whilst it is the duty of the Pharaoh’s soldiers to lay down their lives if necessary.’
‘What did you find?’ Nebamun persisted. ‘Were such deaths necessary? They talked about a hyaena pack possessed by demons, of skeletons, of a hideous slaughter? How you set fire to a cave high up on the side of the valley.’
‘As I have said,’ I bit into a sweet grape, ‘I shall inform Lord Ay.’
‘He has already sent dispatches.’
‘I have seen them,’ I said. ‘My scribes had them ready. More of the same: don’t do this, don’t do that. What I want to know, Colonel, is how safe is this city?’
‘Lord Ay and his Royal Circle,’ Nebamun turned aggressive, ‘disapproved of your expedition, as did Generals Horemheb and Rameses. They could not see the point; the Prince and the Royal Household were left vulnerable.’
‘In which case, Colonel,’ I retorted, ‘I have more confidence in you than they do. Now, enough of bandying words. The city?’
‘The city seethes with unrest,’ Nebamun replied. ‘There have been attacks on officials and some of our soldiers. I have cancelled all leave to go into the beer shops or marketplace; gangs gather outside the palace gates.’
‘What do they want?’
‘Assurances that the city will be safe, that you, my lord, and, of course, His Highness, do not desert them. They talk about their livelihood, about their loyalty to Egypt. They have not moved here to live in a city which is going to be left to die.’
‘But they are right. You know, Colonel, as I do, for it is common knowledge, that once Lord Ay has settled Thebes, the Prince will return to marry the Princess Ankhesenamun and be crowned Lord of the Two Lands.’
‘How dangerous is this unrest?’ Djarka asked.
Nebamun spread his hands. ‘The occasional attack, noisy encounters, rocks hurled. We are finding it more and more difficult to bring produce into the markets. They would have attacked you if it was not for your military escort. My lord Mahu, we should abandon the city, leave as soon as possible.’
I thought of the treasures, my own possessions, the chest of secret documents buried in my private garden.
‘I propose we abandon everything,’ Nebamun insisted. ‘The war barges are ready. We could be gone within the day, let the city rot.’
‘So, Colonel, you have also received messages from General Horemheb. How is he?’
‘He wants the city to die and the memory of Aten to be forgotten,’ one of Nebamun’s officers declared cheekily.
‘I will think about what you say.’
Djarka and I returned to our quarters. The Prince was sleeping. Ankhesenamun and Amedeta walked languorously into the room. They must have been testing certain perfumes, for their fragrance hung about like incense. They looked resplendent in shimmering jewellery. Ankhesenamun’s speech was slightly slurred; both had been drinking deeply.
‘Uncle Mahu,’ she lisped, ‘welcome back. We did miss you, didn’t we, Amedeta?’
The lady-in-waiting smiled at me with her eyes. Ankhesenamun tiptoed towards me and touched my lips.
‘They are dry and cracked and not for kissing, are they, Amedeta? You should really take more care.’ She simpered at me like a cat, then walked away, glancing over her shoulder, an impudent, insolent smile on her face. ‘You should take more care, Uncle Mahu, and do what Grandfather asks.’