Thuty stared hard at Amonked for some moments, as if measuring the man. Suddenly his eyes leaped toward Min kheper. “Our harbor here is small, as you’ve seen. The for tress of Kor has only one quay, always in full use. Where do you intend to moor the vessels under your command while the inspection party travels upstream?” He left no room for doubt: so many ships would not be welcome for an extended period of time.
“The presence of our vessels may cause some inconven ience,” Amonked stated before the captain could respond,
“but they must remain here. Here in Buhen where their crews can be maintained in a reasonably comfortable man ner.”
“Let me get this straight,” Thuty said, acting his most obtuse. “Not only will your vessels take up much- needed space at the harbor, but your sailors must be provided with perishable foodstuffs and furnished with supplies, most of which have been shipped from afar specifically for the use of the troops in this garrison.”
“Those men will need close supervision, sir,” Bak said, aiding and abetting his superior. “Idleness will breed bore dom, causing them to drink too much and to carouse and fight. I can see no end to the trouble they’ll cause.”
Nebwa opened his mouth to offer additional support, but
Amonked cut in, “We’ll be away no more than a month and a half. If you can’t manage so few men for so short a time, what would you do if the whole army of Kemet came marching through, heading south to do battle with the kings of Kush?”
Thuty’s face flamed. Bak feared for his health.
The tall nobleman stepped forward. “I sailed south from
Kemet in my personal traveling ship. I’d have no objection to mooring the vessel against the riverbank, preferably across the water from Buhen. The oasis there appears to be large and fertile, a place where my crew could exchange their labor for fruit, vegetables, and fresh meat.”
Amonked scowled. “That won’t be necessary, Sennefer.”
“I insist.” The nobleman’s smile grew self-deprecating.
“I’ve come to Wawat not as an official member of Amon ked’s inspection party, but as his friend and brother- in-law.
For much of my life, I’ve divided my time between our southern capital of Waset and my estate in the province of
Sheresy. I’m here on sufferance, satisfying a yearning to travel beyond the borders of Kemet. If my ship must be moved, so be it.”
“Excellent!” Anger sharpened Thuty’s voice; a need to regain the upper hand drew his eyes from Sennefer to
Amonked. “Sir? Any other suggestions as to how our load can be lightened?”
Amonked stiffened but otherwise remained unruffled.
“I’ll talk the matter over with Captain Minkheper. You’ll have my answer before we march south from Kor.”
Minkheper stared straight ahead, looking none too happy.
“Must I go with you, sir? I’d be of more value if I remained behind. After resolving this problem of too many ships in too small a harbor, I could hire a local man with a skiff and experience close-up the obstacles that currently prevent trading vessels traveling through the Belly of Stones. By doing so, I could make a more knowledgeable recommen dation to our sovereign as to how we can ease their pas sage.”
“Recommendation?” Bak asked, the word slipping out unbidden. Did Maatkare Hatshepsut hope to tame the Belly of Stones? Only a god could influence the rise and fall of the water, the shifting of boulders along the riverbed, the changing and hazardous currents.
“You’ll come with us as she commanded.” Amonked’s voice was firm, the look he gave Minkheper allowing no argument. “As a candidate for admiral of her fleet, you’ve no choice but to obey.” His eyes darted toward the dais and
Thuty. “Maatkare Hatshepsut has ordered the captain to as sess the possibility of cutting a canal through the rapids, enhancing the movement of trade goods between here and the fortress of Semna.”
Thuty frowned. “The task would be formidable.”
“Impossible,” Bak said, shaking his head. “Too many men would lose their lives in the effort.”
Nebwa barked out a humorless laugh. “A canal in such troubled waters could never be kept open and navigable.
The channel through the rapids above Abu is constantly clogged with boulders. The river here is much faster, more powerful by far.”
“We’ll see.” The words hung heavy in the air, a dismissal of objections. Amonked’s voice grew curt. “I plan to in spect Buhen tomorrow. The following day, we’ll sail to
Kor, and I’d like to begin our march south the next morn ing.”
“I shall accompany your inspection party upriver.”
Thuty’s expression was hard, his tone at its most autocratic.
“No!” Evidently recalling the commandant’s status,
Amonked formed a stiff smile, tempering the rudeness. “As much as I’d enjoy your company, sir, you cannot travel with us. Maatkare Hatshepsut has ordered that no man be allowed to influence my final decision. That command I mean to obey.”
Color flooded Thuty’s face. His mouth snapped shut, suppressing fury. He took a deep breath, controlling him self, and leaned forward toward Amonked to accent his words. “Our sovereign knows nothing about the frontier, sir, nor do you. With luck, you and all who came with you from Waset will survive your journey unscathed.”
“Did you see the look on Amonked’s face?” Nebwa wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. “He didn’t know if
Thuty was joking or putting some kind of spell on him.”
Bak smiled. “I guess he intended a subtle threat, but it came out all wrong.”
“I wanted to laugh so bad I thought I’d burst. If Seshu hadn’t come along when he did, giving us an excuse to leave, I’d’ve made a grand spectacle of myself.”
“Concern for Thuty kept my laughter in check. He’s toiled long and hard to attain his exalted position, and I feared he’d lose everything in an instant of reckless speech.”
Bak leaned a hip against the wall surrounding the animal paddock. The enclosure was filled to capacity with don keys. About half the sturdy creatures surrounded broken sheaves of half-dried clover, eating a portion and spreading the rest over the sand on which they stood. A few animals dozed on their feet, the rest milled around, too fretful to settle down. The fine dust stirred up by their hooves, the stench of fresh manure, and the harsh odor of the fodder made Bak sneeze.
“What now, I wonder?” he asked, not expecting an an swer. “With no one to watch over Amonked, no one to provide the knowledge he’ll need to see the fortresses in a true light, how can he make a rational decision?”
“We must see that Dedu and Pashenuro go, with or with out Thuty.”
“Amonked won’t listen to two sergeants, or anyone else for that matter. He made that clear.” Bak waved off a fly buzzing around his head. “They could go as drovers, I sup pose, keeping their true task a secret. Seshu can certainly use their help. And they could report by courier each time they reach a fortress.”
“Good idea.” Nebwa planted his backside against the wall, picked up a length of yellow straw, and stuck it in the corner of his mouth. “Amonked brought an officer with him, a military adviser he calls him. A lieutenant named
Horhotep. The lord Amon only knows how competent a warrior he is.”
“One who’s fought all his battles in the corridors of power, I’d wager.”
Bak hoisted himself onto the wall. Legs dangling, he eyed the dozen or so paddocks that filled the northwest corner of the outer fortress. Many contained donkeys, vital to the movement of trade goods, supplies and foodstuffs for the army, and ores and valuable stones taken from the de sert mines and quarries. Without these sturdy beasts of bur den, nothing could cross the southern frontier during the long months when the Belly of Stones could not be navi gated. Their drovers were squatting together in the shade of the corner tower, playing a game of chance, awaiting
Seshu for word as to how many men and animals he would need on the long, slow trek to Semna.
