arms. The raw troops were sorely alarmed and dared not sleep. But Horemheb comforted them, saying, “Sleep, marsh rats, sleep! rest and smear your torn feet with oil, for I am watching over your slumbers, to guard you.”
I did not sleep; I walked about the camp all night, dressing the wounds of Horemheb’s charioteers, while he encouraged me, saying, “Heal them, Sinuhe, with all your arts. More valiant warriors the world has never seen; each of them is worth a hundred or even a thousand of those mud grubbers. Heal them, for I dearly love these scum of mine, and I have no trained men to put in their places.”
I was out of humor from the toilsome journey across the desert, although I had performed it in a chair. My throat was dry with the acrid dust, and I was enraged to think that because of Horemheb’s foolish obstinacy I must die at the hands of the Hittites, although death in itself held no terrors for me.
I said to him irritably, “I seek to heal these scum of yours purely for my own sake since to my mind they are the only men in the army capable of fighting. Those who came with me will fly as soon as they see the whites of enemy eyes. You would do well to pick out the swiftest horses and speed back with me to the Lower Kingdom, to muster a new and better army.”
Horemheb rubbed his nose and said, “Your counsel does honor to your wisdom. But we have no choice save to defeat the Hittites here in the desert. Defeat them we must, having no alternative. I shall now take my rest and shall drink. After drinking I am ever exceedingly ill tempered and fight well.”
He left me, and soon I heard the gurgling from his wine jar. He offered it to such men of his as passed, slapping them on the shoulder and hailing each by name.
So the night passed, and morning rose like a specter from the desert. Before the barricades lay dead horses and overturned chariots, and vultures were tearing out the eyes of Hittites who had died there. Horns sounded at Horemheb’s order, and he paraded his men at the foot of the slopes.
While the Hittites were smothering their fires with sand, harnessing their horses, and whetting their blades, Horemheb addressed his troops. He bit at a chunk of hard bread and an onion as he did so.
“Look before you, and you shall see a great marvel. Ammon has delivered the Hittites into our hands, and we shall do great things this day. The enemy foot soldiers have not yet come up; they remain at the edge of the desert because they lack water. The chariots must break through our lines and capture the water stores in our rear if the army xs to pursue its sttsc k on Egypt. Already their horses are thirsty and lack forage, for I have burned up their stores and smashed their water jars all the way from here to Syria. They must therefore either break through or retire unless they pitch camp to await fresh supplies, in which event they will be unable to engage us in battle. But they are greedy men, and they have invested all the gold and silver in Syria in those water jars that lie strung out behind us, full, all the way to Egypt. They will not give them up without a struggle. Thus Ammon has delivered them into our hands. When they attack, their horses will stumble and entangle themselves in our barriers. They cannot hurl their full force against us, for the trenches you have so diligently dug and the rocks and the ropes will break the edge of their assault.”
Horemheb spat out an onion skin and chewed the bread until the troops began stamping and shouting, like children eager for another story. Then Horemheb said, “My only fear is that in your feebleness you will let the Hittites slip through your fingers. Those rods you hold in your hands are spears whose points are designed to rip up the bellies of Hittites. To the bowmen I say: Were you true warriors and marksmen you would shoot out their eyes. But such counsels are vain. Aim at the horses, for these are bigger targets, and you could never hit the men who drive them. The nearer they come, the more certain will be your unskillful aim; I counsel you to let them come very near. I will flog with my own hands every man who wastes an arrow; we have not one to spare. And you, javelin throwers! When the horses approach, steady the butts of your spears against the ground with both hands and direct the points at the horses’ bellies. In this way you incur no danger and can leap aside before the animal falls on you. Should you be flung to the ground, hamstring them, for only that way can you avoid being crushed by the wheels. This is your task, you rats of the Nile.”
Raising a jar of water to his lips he swallowed a deep draught to clear his head, after which he continued, “Nevertheless, it is a waste of breath to talk to you. When you hear the war cry of the Hittites and the thunder of their chariots you will whimper and hide your heads in the sand, for lack of skirts to creep under. If the Hittites break through to the water supplies in our rear, each one of you is lost and will be lifeless before nightfall, because we shall be surrounded and all retreat cut off. As it is we have no retreat. If we abandon the defenses we have built, the enemy chariots will scatter us like chaff before the wind; I mention this in case any one of you should take it into his head to scuttle off into the desert. We are all in the same boat and have no choice but to defeat the enemy. I will be with you, fighting at your side. Should my whip lash out at you rather than at the Hittites, that will be no fault of mine but yours alone, my valiant rats.”
The men listened to him spellbound. I confess I was growing uneasy, for already the enemy chariots were approaching like distant dust clouds. Yet I believe that Horemheb lingered designedly, to infect the men with his own composure and to spare them the oppressive time of waiting.
At length he glanced out across the desert from his high ledge, raised his hands, and said, “Our friends the Hittites are on their way, for which I give thanks to all the gods of Egypt. Go then, you Nile rats, each man to his allotted station, and let none depart thence unless so ordered. And you others, you my old ruffians, pursue this rabble-shoot over and round them-geld them if need be, should they seek to fly. I might say to you: fight for the gods of Egypt, fight for the Black Land, fight for your wives and children. Run now, boys, run swiftly, or the chariots will have reached the barricades before you, and the battle will be over before it has begun.”
He dismissed them, and they set off at a trot toward the barricades, shouting as they ran, whether from ardor or fear I cannot say. Horemheb followed them at a leisurely pace, but I remained sitting on the slope to watch the battle from a safe distance. I was a physician, and my life was valuable.
The enemy had driven their chariots across the plain to the foot of the hills, where they formed into battle order. Their colorful standards, the gleam of the winged suns on the chariots, and the brilliant woolen cloths that protected the horses from arrows presented a magnificent and most formidable sight. The chariots worked in groups of six, ten of these groups forming one squadron; in all I believe there were sixty squadrons. But the heavy, three-horse chariots, manned by three men, formed the center of their front. I could not conceive how Horemheb’s force were to withstand their assault, for they moved slowly and ponderously, like ships, and demolished everything in their path.
To the sound of horns the enemy captains raised their standards, and the chariots moved off at gradually increasing speed. When they had drawn near to the barricades I saw single horses tearing out between them, each with a rider clinging to its mane and drumming with his heels on the sides of his mount to urge it to still greater speed. I could not imagine why they should send their spare horses in advance, unguarded, until I observed these riders leaning over and cutting away the ropes that had been stretched between the stakes. Other horses galloped straight through the breaches thus formed. Their riders rose up and hurled their spears in such a manner that they remained fixed upright in the ground, and from the butt end of each floated a bright pennant. This all occurred with the speed of lightning. I failed to catch their purpose, for the horsemen then wheeled about and tore back at full gallop to disappear behind the chariots, although some dropped from their mounts transfixed by arrows, while many horses fell and lay kicking and screaming hideously on the ground.
When the light chariots began their assault, I saw Horemheb rushing toward the barricades alone, where he tore up one of the spears and hurled it far from him so that it stood once more upright in the sand. He alone had instantly perceived that these spears and flags were placed to mark the weakest points in the defenses, where a breach might best be made. Other men who followed his example returned with the standards as trophies. I believe that only Horemheb’s quick wits saved Egypt that day, for had the enemy hurled the concentrated weight of his first assault against those points the riders had marked, it is certain that the Egyptians could never have repelled it.
No sooner had Horemheb regained the cover of his troops than the light chariots of the Hittites were speeding against the barriers, driving in among them like wedges. This first clash was attended by so mighty a din and by such dense clouds of dust that from the hillside I could no longer follow the course of the battle. I saw only that our arrows brought down some horses in front of the barricades, but that succeeding drivers dextrously avoided the overturned vehicles and came on. Later it became clear that at one or two points the light chariots had penetrated the lines, despite severe losses. But instead of pursuing their course they halted in groups, while the spare men in each leaped out and began rolling away the stones and clearing a path for the heavier force, which had halted out of range to await its turn.
A seasoned soldier on beholding these enemy successes would have believed the day lost, but Horemheb’s
