The Egyptians went berserk, attacking like ravening beasts whose hearts know no mercy and thirst for blood and their screams resounded against the sides of the valley like the pealing of thunder or the roaring of lions. They hurled themselves forward heedless of the death that poured down upon them, as though they had lost all sensation or comprehension and been turned into instruments of Hell. The fighting — was fierce, the exchange of blows intense, and the blood flowed like gushing springs from breasts and necks. Each attacker felt a crazed urge that would not slacken until he had buried his lance in a Herdsman's heart. Before noon, the right — wing had managed to silence a number of defensive positions and some men took the lead in erecting siege ladders, upon which they climbed with death-defying hearts, thus transferring the battle from the field to the top of the fortified wall, where some of them leapt onto the inner parapet, engaging the enemy with lance and sword. The attacks followed one another violently and courageously as the king observed the fight with watchful eyes and sent reinforcements to places where the enemy was attacking hard. After watching his soldiers ascend the wall in the middle and at two points on the right as the sun rose to the zenith of the sky, he said, “My troops are making the effort of giants, but I fear that darkness will overtake us before we take the whole wall and we shall have to start tomorrow from the beginning.”
The king issued orders to new contingents to attack and the pressure of his men on the defenders of the near-impregnable wall increased as they made themselves new paths to its summit. Despair seemed to start to overcome the Herdsmen after the Egyptians had inflicted terrible losses on them and they saw that the flow was never ending, the Egyptians climbing the siege ladders like ants marching up the trunks of trees. Defenses collapsed with a rapidity that no one had expected, and Ahmose's troops occupied whole sections of the wall, so that its fall became only a matter of time. Ahmose was continuing to send strong reinforcements, when an officer of a force of scouts that had penetrated into the fields surrounding Thebes came to him in the camp, his face beaming with joy. He bowed to the king and said, “Wonderful news, my lord! Apophis and his army are leaving the northern gates of Thebes like fugitives.”
The king, amazed, asked the officer, “Are you sure of what you say?”
The man said confidently, “I saw the cavalcade of the Herdsmen's king and his guards — with my own eyes, followed by companies of the army, armed to the teeth.”
Ahmose Ebana said, “Apophis must have realized the pointlessness of defending the wall of Thebes after witnessing our troops’ attacks, while his army inside the city could not properly defend itself, so he fled.”
Hur said, “Now no doubt he knows that taking shelter behind the women and children of the fighters was a calamitous act of wickedness.”
Hur had scarcely finished speaking before a new messenger from the fleet came. He saluted the king and said, “My lord, an uprising is spreading like wildfire in Thebes. From the fleet, we saw a fierce battle taking place between the peasants and the Nubians on one side and the owners of the palaces and the guards of the shore on the other.”
Ahmose Ebana appeared anxious and asked the officer, “Did the fleet do its duty?”
“Indeed, sir. Our ships drew in close to the shore and fired numerous arrows at the guards, so that they could not free themselves to fight the insurgents.”
The commander's face relaxed and he asked permission of the king to return to his fleet to carry out an attack on the shore, which the king granted, saying to Hur in delight, “The estate owners will not escape this time with their wealth.”
Hur replied in a voice trembling with joy, “Indeed, my lord, and soon Thebes the Glorious will open its gates to you.”
“But Apophis has taken his army with him.”
“We will not stop struggling until Avaris has fallen and the last Herdsman has withdrawn from Egypt.”
The king resumed his observation of the fighting and found his troops doing battle on the siege ladders and on top of the wall, pressing on the Herdsmen, who retreated before them. Contingents of bow- and lance-carrying troops climbed up in great numbers and scaled the wall on every side, surrounding the Herdsmen and setting about the work of slaughtering them. Before long, he saw his troops rip up the Hyksos flag and raise the fluttering flag of Thebes. Then he witnessed the great gates of Thebes open — wide, — while his troops poured inside acclaiming his name. In a low voice, he murmured, “Thebes, wellspring of my blood, my body's first home and playground of my soul, open your arms and clasp to your tender breast your brave and vindicated sons!” Then he bowed his head to hide a tear wrung from the depths of his being, while Hur, on his right, prayed and wiped his eyes, his thin cheeks bedewed with tears.
13
More hours passed and the sun started to incline toward the west. Commanders Mheb and Deeb approached the king, Ahmose Ebana following in their footsteps. They bowed to Ahmose respectfully and congratulated him on the victory. Ahmose said, “Before we congratulate one another, we must perform our duty toward the bodies of the heroes and soldiers, and the women and children, who were martyred for the sake of Thebes. Bring them all to me!”
The bodies, begrimed with dust and stained with blood, were strewn at the sides of the field, on top of the wall, and behind the gates. The iron helmets had fallen from their heads and the terrible silence of death hung over them. The soldiers picked them up respectfully, took them to one side of the camp, and laid them side by side, just as they brought the women and children whom their soldiers’ arrows had cut to pieces, and put them in a separate place. The king proceeded to the resting place of the martyrs followed by Chamberlain Hur, the three commanders, and his entourage. When he got close to the rows of bodies, he bowed in silent, sorrowing reverence, and his men did likewise. Then he walked on with slow steps, passing before them as though he were reviewing them at some official occasion before spectators. Next, he turned aside to the place where the women and children lay, their bodies now wrapped in linen coverings. A cloud of sadness cast a shadow over the king's face and his eyes darkened. In the midst of his grief, he became aware of the voice of Commander Ahmose Ebana, crying out despite himself in a choking voice, “Mother!”
The king turned back and saw his commander kneeling in pain and agony beside one of the corpses. The king cast an enquiring look at the body and saw that it was Lady Ebana, the terrifying shadow of extinction sketched on her visage. The king stopped beside his kneeling commander, humbled and sad at heart. He had had a great respect for the lady, and knew well her patriotism, her courage, and her merit in raising Ahmose to be, without contest, his best commander. The king raised his head to the heavens and said in a trembling voice, “Divine Lord Amun, creator of the universe, giver of life and arranger of all according to His high plan, these are your charges who now are returned to you at your desire. In our world they lived for others and thus they died. They are dear fragments broken from my heart. Grant them your mercy and compensate them for the ephemeral life that they lost with a happy eternal life in the Hereafter!”
The king turned to Chamberlain Hur and said, “Chamberlain, I wish that these bodies all be preserved and placed in Thebes’ western cemetery. By my life, those worthiest of the earth of Thebes are those who died as martyrs for its sake!”
At this point, the messenger whom the king had sent to his family in Dabod returned and presented his lord with a message. Surprised, the king asked, “Have my family come back to Habu?”