Chapter 45
Egyptian Desert
1324 BC
“I WAS PAYING YOU a compliment, Pharaoh,” said the crafty Horemheb.
“Then I accept your compliment. Tell me, General, what is our strategy today?”
The general’s large but powerful chest and belly were bronzed from the sun, and he squinted as he studied Megiddo ’s distant fortifications. “May I speak bluntly, sir?”
“Of course you may. You know me well enough by now. I need to know the truth-always. Speak your mind.”
“I have conquered this miserable town before. It is a den of whores and thieves who don’t understand anything except brutal domination. If they come out to fight, we will first launch arrows and then send chariots to scatter their army. Our fighting men will wade in and slaughter them like the weak little piglets that they are. The desert sands will be engorged with their blood, which will flow from their bodies like water over a raging cataract.”
Horemheb grinned maliciously. Instead of groveling, he was now testing Tut for signs of squeamishness.
“When that moment comes, General, I will personally gut a Canaanite. I will use his innards to grease the axles of my chariot.”
“As you should,” said Horemheb, who seemed to approve of the pharaoh’s words.
Tut stared at Megiddo again and then turned to Horemheb. “And if they do not come out, what then?”
“Then there will be a siege. We will poison their wells and starve them. It might take months, but we will enter the city. I guarantee it. You haven’t lived until you’ve plundered a city like this one. The women cannot refuse you. And the men know to bring the youngest and most beautiful. You, of course, will have your pick.”
Horemheb paused, his sense of timing exquisite. “That is, if you desire a grown woman. They can be tempestuous, Pharaoh. Particularly when reluctantly submitting to a victor.”
Tut resisted the urge to draw his sword and hack off Horemheb’s arm to put him in his place. The general would be able to do nothing in his defense.
“My wife is woman enough for me. You may have my share of tempestuous whores.”
Suddenly, Horemheb’s eyes caught sight of something.
“What is it, General?”
“Permission to sound the call to order?”
“But what is it? What do you see? Tell me.”
Horemheb pointed a gnarled finger. “The gates to the city. Look for yourself. They are opening! The Canaanites are coming out to fight.”
Chapter 46
Egyptian Desert
1324 BC
“HOLD!” YELLED HOREMHEB, the low timbre of his powerful voice cutting through the dry desert air. The highly trained Egyptian forces halted abruptly. Tut stopped too. Then he stared in utter amazement at the scene unfolding before him.
A mile distant, the Canaanite army poured forth from behind the city walls.
The infantry marched three columns abreast, numbering perhaps five thousand men. The all-important archers were assembled on the wings, ready to fire on any Egyptian flanking movement.
Up in the very front, in a mirror image of Horemheb and Tut and the rest of Egypt ’s commanders, the Canaanite charioteers charged forward. There were two men in each chariot, a driver and an archer, which allowed arrows to be fired while racing into battle.
The Canaanites came fast, as if intending to take immediate control of the field.
Their hulking shoulders and the great, dark beards that covered their chests made them look bigger and stronger than the Egyptians.
To his shame, Tut’s throat instantly closed in terror. He threw up in his mouth. As he studied the Canaanites, he realized that their march had not faltered, nor had their pace slackened. They seemed to grow more terrifying as they closed to within five hundred yards.
But their horses! Tut could see that they were ill trained and struggling to turn away from the fight.
Even the animals have the good sense to fear the coming battle, he thought. These were not the horses of victorious warriors, but horses that knew what it was like to turn and flee.
The realization galvanized Tut, but the chaos in his stomach intensified. He bent over and vomited in his chariot, quickly wiping his mouth and standing up straight so that his men would not think their pharaoh weak.
But there was no hiding anything from Horemheb. “I have done it many times myself, Pharaoh,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm.
No, now would not be a good time to cut off Horemheb’s arm. Later, perhaps. After the victory was assured.
“It will not happen again,” Tut barked, steel in his voice.
His schooling had included courses in tactics and warfare. Now, with Horemheb’s taunt ringing in his ears, Tut took command of the battlefield. He removed the composite bow from his shoulders. Made of cherrywood and leather, its gleaming ivory decorations looked too beautiful for the battlefield, even as the copper-headed arrows in his quiver shone with lethal intent.
“Give the order for battle formations!” he told Horemheb.
The general glared at Tut but said nothing at first. He was not used to being ordered about, especially by a boy. “As you wish, my king,” he finally replied.
Then Horemheb turned and faced the assembled army. “Battle formations!”
The Egyptian column spread out, until they formed a wide but narrow line, shoulder to shoulder, twenty men deep, facing down the men of Canaan.
The well-trained charioteers remained in front. The archers scurried to the right and left flanks.
Horemheb and the entire army awaited Tut’s next command.
Conventional wisdom said that a wide-open battlefield like this desert plain favored the defender, so in this case it was best to wait for the Canaanites to make the first move.
But Tut knew that such tactics did not always work. As his adrenaline surged, flooding him with a new fearlessness, his instincts told him that this day the Egyptians must attack first.
“I do not wish to give them a chance to flee behind the city walls,” Tut stated evenly.
“As I said before, we will wait them out,” insisted the general.
Tut licked his lips. Holding tight to the reins of his chariot, he stepped from the chassis and turned to face his troops.
Their bodies glistened with sweat, and they looked tired from the two-week march from Thebes, but there was no mistaking their professionalism. They were reliant warriors, hungry for battle and the rewards of victory. They had trained and drilled for the sweet primal satisfaction of fighting man to man against a sworn enemy of Egypt. And then-plunder.
Tut’s heart raced. He had never been so proud to be an Egyptian.
The troops watched him expectantly, awaiting the next command. “General Horemheb, command the archers to open fire.”