He kissed her awkwardly, and the iron crushed her breast as he held her. She made a small movement of protest, half pulling away, then she surrendered to his embrace and, ignoring the pain, pressed herself to him.
‘Oh Huy,’ she whispered, ‘my lord, my love.’
The old priestess pulled aside the hanging reed mat and stepped into the chamber. She saw the two of them clinging to each other, oblivious of all else. Aina stared at them through rheumy old eyes, then her mouth sagged open into a tooth-less grin and she drew back silently and let the reed mat fall into place.
Tanith drew away at last. She went to the wall against which the vulture axe leaned beside Huy’s couch, and she took it up and untied the soft leather sheath from the blade. She came to Huy, standing before him, and she lifted the blade to her lips and kissed it.
‘Fail him not!’ she whispered to the axe and handed it to Huy.
In the pre-dawn darkness there was an eager group of officers on the ramparts of the fort staring upstream to where the slave army was encamped. They were all armed and were eating the morning meal as they stood. They greeted Huy and Tanith with boisterous high spirits, and Tanith watched and listened as they discussed the day. She found it difficult to understand how they could face the possibility of dealing or receiving death with the enthusiasm of small boys for a piece of mischief.
Tanith felt herself excluded from this mysterious male camaraderie, and she was startled by the change which had come over Huy. Her gentle poet, her solemn scholar and shy lover was as inflamed as any of them. She recognized all the signs of his excitement in his fluttering hand gestures, the hectic spots of colour in his cheeks and the high-pitched giggle with which he greeted one of Bakmor’s sallies.
‘This is the day. Enough waiting,’ Huy declared, as he stared upstream into the dawn gloom. There was a heavy mist upon the river, and the smoke from 10,000 camp fires obscured the field. He paced restlessly. ‘A curse upon this mist! I cannot see if they have strung their lines across the ford yet.’
‘Shall I order one of the galleys upstream to investigate?’ Mago asked.
‘No,’ Huy waved the suggestion aside. ‘We will know soon enough, and I don’t want to draw attention to the galleys yet.’ Huy crossed to the parapet on which the food was spread. He poured a bowl of hot wine sweetened with honey and raised it to the company. ‘A bright edge to your swords!’
Huy sang the greeting to Baal as the sun came up over a red and smoky horizon, and then standing bareheaded he drew the attention of the gods to the fact that he intended fighting a battle this day. In strong but respectful terms he pointed out that though the men he commanded were the finest, yet the odds were high, and he would need assistance if the day was to be carried. He relied on them for their cooperation. He made the sun sign, and then turned briskly to his staff.
‘Very well, you know your stations and duties.’ As they dispersed, Huy led Bakmor aside. ‘You have a man to attend the priestess?’
Bakmor beckoned to a grizzled old infantry man who stood a short way off, and the man came forward.
‘You know your duties?’ Huy demanded, and the soldier nodded.
‘I will remain with the priestess through the day ’
‘Never letting her out of your sight,’ Huy cautioned him.
‘Should the enemy triumph, and it seem that she will fall into their hands, I will—’
‘Good,’ Huy interrupted him gruffly. ‘If it is necessary, make the stroke swift and sure.’
Huy could not look at Tanith, he turned away quickly and went down to where a small boat waited to row him out to the largest of the two galleys.
Huy stood on the castle of the galley and waited. The sun was well up now, and the mist was dispersed. The galley was singled up to a bow anchor, and she faced into the current. The rowers were at their benches, their shields and weapons at their feet, the oars feathered and ready.
The slave army was committed to its crossing. Twenty lines had been strung from the south bank to the mid- stream island, and now they were laying the lines from there to the north bank.
The ford was congested with a great struggling mass of humanity. Clinging to the bark ropes, they were wading steadily across towards the island. Only their heads showed, long lines of black dots around which the water swirled and creamed. Already there were fifteen or twenty thousand slaves in the water, and the number increased steadily as the horde on the south side filed down the bank and took to the ropes.
It was happening just the way that Huy had known it would. The party on the south bank would dwindle to a size which would be a fair match for Bakmor’s impatient warriors Huy smiled as he imagined how Bakmor must be chafing at this delay. He had longer to wait, Huy decided, as he watched the first slaves emerge from the green waters and scramble thankfully out onto the island with their black skins shining wetly in the morning sunlight.
Their thankfulness was premature, Huy thought. There was still the north channel of the river between them and safety. They began filing off the island, while behind them the bark ropes bowed downstream with the weight of human bodies and the island itself swarmed with naked black flesh. It was an awesome spectacle, such a multitude strung across the river, and still a dense mass of black men upon the south bank.
If it is Timon, he will know enough to hold his best men in the rearguard. Huy peered at the men waiting to take their turns upon the ropes, and it seemed that they were steadier and better armed than those in the van. He must let their number reduce further before he could risk Bakmor’s tiny force against them.
Huy turned his attention back to the ford, from the island the lines of heads were creeping slowly across towards the far bank. He could see now that he would have a difficult choice to make. If he delayed his attack much longer, then many of the fugitives would escape into the dense forests of the north, beyond the reach of his army for ever. However, if he struck before they escaped it would mean committing Bakmor to battle with vastly superior numbers. The choice was a delicate one, and Huy pondered it carefully. His decision was made when he thought suddenly of the day in the future when he would report to his king.
‘Not one of them escaped, Majesty.’ And he could almost hear the reply, ‘I did not doubt it, my bird of the sun.’
Huy turned to the captain of the galley who stood beside him.
