“I trust him, do not fear,” Hattie murmured.“I trust him with my life.”
“As well you should.” Hatshepsut’s imageshimmered and grew transparent, then vanished. “Protect Egypt andTuthmosis. Do not fail me,” the disembodied voice added.
“Hatshepsut, Egypt, and the world are alldepending on me,” Hattie muttered as she slipped deeper into sleep.“What more can go wrong?”
CHAPTER 11
The day dawned bright and clear, but the camphad been stirring since well before the sun rose. Hattie surveyedthe preparations from her lofty perch atop the hill overlooking thebattlefield. Grooms led horses to chariots, soldiers fastened onleather helmets and swords, and officers moved from company tocompany, giving orders and encouragement. Everything was runningsmoothly; her help was not needed. The best thing she could do forher troops was to stay out from underfoot.
She glanced across the field of battle as thewarm light of dawn spread across the grassy plain. From what shecould see, the Nubians were making their preparations at the farend of the field. Combat was inevitable.
She turned to Senemut. “What must I do?Should I ride in a chariot at the head of my troops?”
Wearing a serious expression, he shook hishead. “Snefru will come to you when all is in readiness. You mustgive him the order to proceed. Then, you need only stand on thecrest of this hill and watch the battle. It will not takelong.”
Hattie winced. “I…I confess I am loathe towatch my soldiers die. I cannot help but feel their blood is on myhands.”
“You must be strong.” He looked around, thenunobtrusively reached for her hand. “Your soldiers must see youfearless and brave, urging them on. It will inspire them to fightfiercely.”
“I know you are right, and I will stay. Youwill be here with me, will you not?” She clutched his hand withboth of hers.
“Of course.”
“Majesty?”
She dropped Senemut’s hand and turned to seeSnefru striding to her. “Aye, General?”
“All is prepared. I await your orders.”
“Very well.” She paused, glancing at Senemut,who smiled encouragingly. “Begin the battle. May Sekhmet, goddessof war, grant you and your men a glorious victory.”
Snefru saluted sharply and ran to issue theorders.
A sick, uneasy feeling crawled around in thepit of Hattie’s stomach as she looked down on her troops. For abrief moment, the scene seemed frozen in time. Chariots andinfantry stood in straight lines at the near edge of the field,with the Nubians in a more disorderly clump at the opposite end.Then, at an unheard signal, the battle began.
Hattie’s troops marched forward in even rowsuntil the Nubians began to advance on them. Then, wings of infantryswung to the left and right to flank the enemy, while the chariotsraced at top speed to work their way behind the Nubians.
The Nubian troops, suddenly sensing thepurpose of the unfamiliar flanking strategy, tried to retreat, butit was too late. The horse-drawn chariots had moved into positionlike lightning, and there was no way out. Resigned, the enemysoldiers turned forward again and launched a violent attack on thetroops awaiting their arrival.
Screams and cries, shouted orders and curses,clanging of metal against metal, and the thuds of spear points andbronze-tipped arrows meeting leather shields rose to Hattie’s earson the still, dry air. Dust obscured portions of the scene fromtime to time, but there was no disguising the amount of hot, redblood being spilled, even from such a great distance. Moaning,Hattie closed her eyes.
At once, she felt Senemut’s left arm comearound her waist, his right hand cupping her elbow. “Hold your headhigh, Majesty,” he whispered. “Your soldiers are winning for you agreat victory. Your name will be written for all the ages.”
Gulping, Hattie raised her head and forcedherself to open her eyes. If her soldiers were dying for hereternal glory, the least she could do was to provide them with avision of a fierce, fearless ruler—no matter how false that imagefelt deep in her heart.
Suddenly, she heard a small sound. It was nolouder than the footstep of a servant outside her room in thepalace, but it drew her attention. She whipped around to her leftand saw a huge Nubian soldier creeping around the corner of hertent, knife upraised as he approached her.
“Senemut!” she cried. She felt rooted to thespot, watching in horror as the attacker broke into a run towardthem.
At once, Senemut seized her and shoved herbehind him, then turned to face the assassin. “Get away, Hattie!”he shouted to her as he grasped both of the Nubian’s forearms withhis hands, struggling to keep the knife out of strikingdistance.
Senemut’s warning broke her trance and shestumbled into her tent, looking for something—anything—she coulduse as a weapon to help him. She had no intention of running awayand leaving him to be butchered. Her eyes settled on a largepottery wine jar. Seizing it, she rushed outside.
The men still struggled, both of them coveredwith dust and sweat. Senemut seized the attacker’s knife hand andtried to wrest the weapon from him. They spun around and crashedinto a stool outside the tent. Falling in a tangle of flailinglimbs, they lost their hold on each other. Hattie stumbled backjust in time to avoid being caught in the fracas, somehow managingto keep her grip on the unwieldy wine jar.
They leapt to their feet and faced off again,the Nubian still in possession of the knife. Blood trickled downSenemut’s side from a wound the Nubian had inflicted. They panted,sweat gleaming on their heaving chests. The intruder was taller andheavier, but Senemut’s lithe body had the grace of a leopard andthe muscular power of a lion.
The assassin suddenly charged at Senemut, hishead lowered. Senemut darted nimbly out of his path and seized himfrom behind, pulling the man’s arms behind him and forcing him downto his knees. The Nubian cried out in pain and struggled to freehimself.
Seizing the opportunity, Hattie raised theheavy jar and smashed it onto the assailant’s head with all thestrength she could muster. It shattered, wine and pottery shardsspraying over both combatants. The Nubian groaned and Senemutreleased him, letting him slump to the ground.
Senemut bent over, his hands on his knees,breathing harshly. At last he stood upright and faced her. “You…area fierce warrior…Hattie,” he panted. “I thank
