The March from Babylon
Long must Nefra wait in that scented palace at Babylon before the
great army, gathered to set her on her throne, was ready for its work.
From all parts of the vast empire troops must be collected, hillsmen
and plainsmen and men from the borders of the sea; archers, drivers of
chariots, infantry, spearsmen, and those who rode upon camels. Slowly
they came together and then must be exercised and welded to a whole;
also provisions and water for so huge a force must be provided, and
companies sent forward with these and to prepare the road. Thus it
came about that three full moons went by before ever the vanguard
marched out of the brazen gates of Babylon.
To Nefra soon that city grew hateful. She loathed its pomps and
ceremonies and its staring crowds. Its religion was not hers and,
unlike her mother, to its gods she put up no prayer; indeed, scarcely
could she bring herself to bow when her grandsire led her with him to
rituals in its enormous terraced temples, she, the pupil of Roy and
the Sister of the Dawn who was sworn to a purer faith.
The unending ceremonies of that ancient Court, the adulation accorded
to its king, and even to her, his granddaughter who was known to be a
queen; the prostrations, the shouts of “May the King live for ever!”
addressed to one who soon must die, wearied and revolted her.
Moreover, the confinement and the hot airlessness of the place where
she could only move in palace courts or in formal gardens, told upon
the spirits of this free daughter of the desert, till Kemmah, watching
her, noted that she turned from her food and grew pale and thin.
Lastly her spirit was tormented with fear and doubt. Through the
secret service of the Brethren of the Dawn, news reached Babylon that
the Prince Khian and the priest Temu had escaped from Tanis and
repaired to the pyramids, whence they had again escaped towards
Arabia, guided by certain men who had been deputed to aid them.
Then after a while came other news, namely, that both of them,
together with those guides, had been cut off by Apepi’s outposts
beyond the borders of Egypt and either killed or taken captive, as it
was thought the former, because the bodies of some of their company
were reported to have been seen. After this there was silence which,
had Nefra but known it, was not strange.
When the Shepherd captain of the border fort learned that those whom
he had been commanded to watch for and snare had slipped from his
hand, and having killed certain of his people, had, it was believed,
reached the Babylonian outpost in the hills alive, although he did not
dare to attack that outpost, which was very strongly placed, first
because he had not sufficient strength, and secondly because, in a
time of truce, it would be an open act of war upon Babylon for which
he had no warrant, still he surrounded it with skirmishers with orders
to kill or capture any who set foot on the desert roads. Thus it came
about that when messengers were sent bearing news that Khian lay sick
and wounded at this camp, they were cut off. Thrice this chanced, and
when at last, owing to the recall of the skirmishers at the opening of
the war, a letter came in safety to Babylon, the army had marched
already by another road to attack Egypt, and with it Nefra and the
Brethren of the Dawn. Therefore the letters must be sent after it and
never came to Nefra’s hands till she was far upon her path.
Meanwhile, when first she heard these rumours at Babylon telling her
that Khian was dead or captured, her heart seemed to break within her.
For a while she sat silent with a face of stone. Then she bade Kemmah
bring Tau to her and when he had come, said to him:
“You have heard, my uncle. Khian is dead.”
“No, Niece, I have heard a report that he may be dead or captured.”
“If Roy were alive he would tell us the truth, he whose soul could see
afar,” said Nefra bitterly. “But he is gone and only men remain whose
eyes are set upon the ground and whose hearts are filled with matters
of the world.”
“As it seems that yours is, Niece. Yet Roy being dead, leaving me, all
unworthy in his place, still speaks. Did he not tell you that however
great your troubles, you and Khian would come together at the last,
and was the holy Roy an utterer of empty prophecies?”
“Aye, he said that, but he to whom flesh and spirit were much the
same, may have meant that we should come together in the Underworld.
Oh! why did you ever suffer the Prince to return to the Court at
Tanis? Although I could not say it, it was my desire that he should
bide with us at the pyramids. Then he might have fled safely with us
to Babylon and by now, perchance, we should have been wed.”
“Or perchance other things would have happened, Niece. If any knew the
decrees of Heaven, that man was Roy, and he held that believing his
honour to be at stake, the Prince, his embassy accomplished, must be
allowed to follow his desire and make report to Apepi his father. So
he departed to fulfil his mission, and since then matters have not
gone so ill for you.”
“I think that they have gone very ill,” she said stubbornly.
“How so, Niece? We know through our spies that the Prince and the
priest Temu escaped from Tanis and came to the pyramids where they lay
hid a while. We know also that by the help of those high-born warrior
brethren of our Order whom I deputed to the task, they escaped again
from the pyramids and fled safely out of Egypt. It seems that they
were followed and that there was fighting in which it well may be that
those brethren, or some of them, lost their lives, as they were sworn
to do. If so, peace be to their gallant spirits. But of the death of
the Prince, or even of Temu, there is no certain word, nor,” he added
slowly, “does a dream or voice tell me or any of us that he is dead.”
“As it would have told Roy,” interrupted Nefra.
“As mayhap it would have told Roy, and as mayhap Roy, being still
living though elsewhere, would have told me who fill his office.
Niece, be not so rough-tongued and ungrateful. Have not all things
happened according to your desire? Has not the royal Ditanah, my
father, given you a great army to set you on your throne? Has he not
at your prayer, and, as I can tell you now, at mine made in secret,
abandoned his policy of wedding you to his heir, Mir-bel, and sent
that prince far from Babylon to where he cannot molest you? Has he
not--though this has been hid from you--set me in command of that
army, that it may be handled according to your desire and mine,
putting trust in me that when its work is done, I will lay down my
generalship and from a mighty prince of war once more become a priest,
I, who were I evil-hearted might use it to set the crown upon my
head?”
“It seems that he has done all these things, Uncle, but what of them
if Khian be dead? Then I seek no throne; then I seek nothing but a
grave. Nay, first I seek vengeance. I tell you that of Apepi and his
Shepherds I will not leave one living, of his cities not one stone
shall remain upon another.”
“Kind words from a Sister of the Dawn, and from her one of whose
titles is Uniter of Lands--not their destroyer!” exclaimed Tau,
shrugging his shoulders, and adding, “O Child, do you not understand
that all life is a trial and that as we pass the trials, so we shall
be rewarded or condemned? You are mad with fear for one whom you love,
and therefore I do not blame you overmuch, though I think that you
will live to grieve over those fierce threats.”
“You are right. I am mad, and being mad, I will cause others to drink
of my cup of fear and sorrows, that cup in which they have mixed the
wine. Send Ru to me, my Uncle, that although I be woman he may teach
me how to fight. And bid those Babylonian smiths come measure me for
armour of the best.”
Then Tau departed, smiling. Still he sent Ru and with him came the
royal armourer.
So it happened that soon, had there been any to look over the wall of
a certain courtyard of the palace, a strange sight might have been
seen of a lissom maid clad in silver mail cutting and thrusting at a
huge black giant, who often enough cried out beneath the smart of her
blows, and once, stung beyond endurance, smote her so shrewdly on the
helm with the flat of a wooden sword that she fell headlong to the
ground, only to spring up again, while he stood dismayed, and deal him
such a thrust beneath the breast bone, that his breath left him and he
did likewise. Yes, there he lay, grunting out between his gasps:
“The gods help Apepi if this lion’s whelp gets him in her claws!”
while she bade him be silent because by all the laws of swordsmanship
he was dead.
At other times she would practise shooting with a bow, an art in which
she had no small skill, or when she wearied of this, at the driving of
chariots in the private circus of the palace, taking with her one of
the slave women, a bold, desert-bred girl, for passenger, because Ru
was too heavy and Kemmah said that she was mad and refused to come.
“So you thought when I began to climb the pyramids, yet they served me
my turn, Nurse,” she answered, and went on driving more furiously than
ever woman drove before.
Now when her grandsire, the old King Ditanah, heard of these things,
he was amazed, and caused himself to be hidden in places whence he
could watch her secretly at her warlike exercises. Having done so and
listened to the tale of her conquest of the pyramids, he sent for Tau
and said to him with a curious smile upon his puckered face:
“I think, Son Abeshu, that I should have given the command of my great
army, not to you who, if once a great warrior, have become a priest,
but to this granddaughter of mine who, if once a priestess, has become
a goddess of war.”
“Nay, Sire,” answered Tau, “for if you gave her that army, you would
never get it back again. Every man in it would learn to love her and
she would use it to conquer the world.”
“Well, why not?” asked Ditanah, and hobbled away, thinking in his
heart that if it had truly pleased the gods to take the Prince Khian
to their bosom, so that Mir-bel might be recalled to Court, his tears
would be hard to weep. For with such a beauteous and royal-hearted
lady for its queen and that of Egypt, surely the glory of Babylon
would fill earth and Heaven. Indeed--was it too late? Then he
remembered that on this matter he had passed his royal word, sighed,
and hobbled on.
These martial exercises served Nefra in two ways: they gave her back
her health which she had begun to lose in the soft life of the
Babylonian palace and they held her mind from brooding upon its
fears--that is, while she was engaged in them. Yet at night these
returned to her, nor indeed were they ever quite absent from her
thoughts. She importuned Tau, and even her grandsire the King, who
caused search to be made all along the Egyptian frontier of his
empire. Messages came back from the searchers that no traces of
fugitives could be found. But among them was another message, namely,
that certain hills could not be approached because they were watched
by horsemen of the army of Apepi. Inquiry was made as to these hills,
and it was found that in a camp among them were stationed a company of
Babylonian troops from which no reports had been received of late.
Therefore, as often happened in so vast an empire, for a while this
outpost had been forgotten by that general in whose command it lay, or
if remembered at all, it was supposed to have been overwhelmed by
rebellious, desert-dwelling tribes.
When Tau heard this news he went to the King his father and gained
leave from him to send a hundred picked horsemen to disperse the
outposts of Apepi and search those hills; also he set spies to work.
But of this business he said nothing to Nefra, fearing lest he should
fill her with false hope.
At length the vast army that had been gathered in the military camps
upon the banks of the Euphrates beyond the walls of Babylon was ready
to advance, two hundred thousand foot-soldiers and horsemen, a
thousand or more of chariots, countless camp followers, and a
multitude of camels and asses bearing provisions, besides those which
were already stacked at the water holes along the line of march.
Then came Nefra’s farewell to Babylon. In state, wearing the crown of
Egypt, she visited the Sepulchre of Kings and in its temple laid
offerings upon her mother’s grave. This duty done, at the Court in the
great hall of the palace she bade farewell to her grandsire, Ditanah
the Great King, who blessed her, wished her well, and even wept a
little at parting from her whom he could never hope to see again; also
because he was too old to accompany his son upon this war. With Tau
also, now clad in the armour of a General and Prince of Babylon, and
looking like one who had never felt the rubbing of a monk’s robe, he
conversed apart, saying sadly:
“Strange lots are ours, beloved son. Many years ago we were dear to
each other. Then we quarrelled, more through my fault than yours, for
in those days my heart was hard, and you went your way to become a
priest of some pure and gentle faith, and your heirship was given to
another. Now for a little hour you are once more a Prince and a
General commanding a great host, who yet purpose, if you live, to lay
down these ranks and titles and, your mission ended, again to seek
some desert cell and wear out your days in prayer. And, I the King of
Kings, your father, remain here awaiting death that soon must overtake
me, and oh! I wonder, Son Abeshu, which of us has chosen the better
lot and done more righteously in the eyes of God. Yes, I wonder much
from whom all these pomps and glories flee away like shadows.”
“There is a great taskmaster, Sire,” answered Tau, “who portions out
to each of us his place and labours. Man does not choose his lot; it
is chosen for him, to work for good or ill within its appointed round.
Such at least is the teaching of my faith, believing which I seek no
throne or power, but am content to build on that foundation as truly
as I may. So let it be with you, my royal Father.”
“Aye, Son, so let it be, since so it must be.”
Then very tenderly they bade each other farewell and parted to meet no
more upon the earth, since when that army returned to Babylon another
King of Kings was seated on the throne.
So by proclamation Babylon declared war upon the Shepherds, who long
before had learned that this storm was about to burst upon them and
were making ready to meet it as best they might.
For very many days the great army marched across the plains and
deserts, as the progress of so vast a host was slow, till at length it
drew near to the borders of Egypt. Then it was that Tau heard from his
spies and skirmishers that Apepi with all his strength, a mighty
power, had built a line of forts upon his boundary and in front of
these was preparing to give battle to the Babylonians. These tidings
he took to Nefra who sat in her chariot armed in glittering mail like
some young war goddess, surrounded by a bodyguard under the command of
Ru.
“It is well,” she answered indifferently. “The sooner we fight the
sooner it will be over and the sooner I shall be avenged upon the
Shepherds of the blood of him whom I have lost.” For having received
no tidings of Khian, now she had become almost sure that he was dead.
“Do not run to meet evil, Niece,” said Tau sadly. “Is there not enough
of it at hand that you must go to seek out more? Have I not told you
that I believe the Prince to be alive?”
“Then where is he, Uncle? How comes it that you under whose command is
all the might of Babylon cannot spare some few thousands to seek him
out?”
“Perchance I am seeking, Niece,” Tau answered gently.
As he spoke a slave ran up, saying:
“Letters from the King of Kings! Letters from Babylon!” and having
touched his forehead with the roll, he gave it to Tau who opened and
read. Within was another roll, a little crumpled roll such as might
have been hidden in a headdress or a shoe.
Tau glanced at the contents of this second roll and gave it to Nefra.
“A writing for you, Niece,” he said quietly.
Seizing it, she read. It was brief and ran thus:
“Again, O Lady, a certain one whose name you may guess writes to say
that save for a hurt to his leg which cripples him he is well in
health. This he does because he has learned that the enemies who
surround the place where he lies may have cut off former messengers.
Should he who bears this come safely to you at Babylon or elsewhere,
he will tell you all. More I dare not write.
“Signed with the sign of the Dawn which you yourself taught me how to
shape.”
Nefra finished reading, then fell rather than leapt from the chariot
into the arms of Tau.
“He lives!” she gasped. “Or he lived. Where is the messenger?”
As she spoke the words a guard appeared escorting an officer who was
travel-stained and weary.
“One who craves audience with you, Prince Abeshu, and at once,” said
the leader of the guard.
Tau looked at the officer and knew him again. It was he whom the King
had sent from Babylon to search for the missing outpost.
“Your report,” he said, and waited with fear in his heart.
“Prince,” answered the man, saluting, “we won through to the outpost
and found all well there, since it is so strongly placed that the
Shepherd skirmishers have not dared attack. Also we found those
travellers who were missing.”
Again Nefra paled and leaned against the chariot, for she could not
speak.
“What of them?” asked Tau.
“Prince, the priest is well. Four brethren who travelled with them
were slain one by one in a certain pass; they died nobly defending
those in their charge. The lord whose name is not spoken, who escaped
with the priest, is still sick, that is, he is wounded in the left
knee and the wound runs. He cannot walk, and though now it is believed
that his leg will be saved, always he must be lame, for the knee is
stiff.”
“Did you see him?” asked Tau.
“Yes, Prince, I and another of my company saw him. While the rest of
us, pretending to retreat, drew off the Shepherd horsemen, we two won
our way to the camp which is on a plain surrounded by hills, not to be
reached except through two passes, one to the west and one to the
east. There we found the garrison, well though weary, for of food they
have enough, also the priest and the other traveller who is hurt.
These told us how they came to the place and of the death of their
four guides, which is a great story.”
“Then repeat it afterwards,” said Tau. “It seems that you escaped. Why
did you not bring these travellers with you?”
“Prince, how could the two of us carry a man who cannot walk, down a
mountain path, even with the help of the priest? Moreover, if we could
have brought him to the plain, it was full of enemies all mounted on
good horses through whom it would scarcely have been possible to bear
him safely, while the garrison had received no orders to attempt to
leave its post. Therefore it was determined that he should remain
where he is safe enough, until a sufficient force could be sent to
bring him away.”
Then the captain went on to tell how he and his companion had rejoined
their men at night and fought their way through the horsemen of Apepi
who watched the stronghold, though with loss; how also they had
learned from some desert wanderers that the army of the Great King was
marching upon Egypt by a road that ran not more than thirty leagues
from where they were, and how therefore they had ridden for the army,
instead of returning to report at Babylon.
“You have done wisely,” said Tau. “Had you attempted to bring that
wounded lord with you, doubtless he would have been killed or
captured.”
Then he went away to give certain orders, leaving the officer with
Nefra, who had many questions to put to him.
When Tau returned an hour later Nefra was still questioning him. Tau
looked at them and asked:
“Friend, how long is it since you slept?”
“Four nights, Prince,” answered the officer.
“And how long is it since you and your companions ate?”
“Forty-eight hours, Prince. Indeed, if we might crave a cup of water
and a bite of bread, who have ridden hard and done some fighting----”
“These await you, Captain, when it pleases her Majesty of Egypt to
dismiss you.”
Then Nefra reddened and turned away ashamed. When the men had gone to
eat and rest, humbly enough she asked Tau what was his plan.
“My plan is, Niece, to send five thousand mounted men, though we can
ill spare them, to clear the desert between this place and the
stronghold where he who was named the Scribe Rasa lies wounded--_not_
dead, as you feared, Niece, and to bring him with our brother Temu and
the garrison of the camp to join the army on its march which,
travelling in a chariot or a litter, he should do within some six
days.”
“A good plan,” said Nefra, clapping her hands. “I will go with the
five thousand and in command of them. Kemmah can accompany me.”
“No, Niece, you shall not go. You stay here with the army.”
“Shall not! Shall not!” exclaimed Nefra, biting her lip as was her
fashion when crossed. “Why?”
“For many reasons, Niece, of which the first is that it would not be
safe. We cannot tell how many troops Apepi has between here and that
stronghold, but we know he would risk much to capture his son now that
the great war has begun; also the Lady Kemmah could not bear such a
journey.”
“If it is not safe for me who am sound and well, neither is it safe
for Khian who is wounded, and if things be thus, then let the whole
army turn and march to the stronghold.”
“It cannot be, Niece. This army is a trust placed in my hands and its
business is to push on and give battle to Apepi, not to wander away
into the desert where perhaps it may be overcome by thirst or other
disasters.”
“Cannot be! I say it must be, my Uncle, I, the Queen of Egypt, desire
it; it is an order.”
Tau looked at her in his calm fashion and answered:
“This army is under my command, not yours, Niece, and having put on
armour the Queen of Egypt is but one officer among thousands,” and he
touched her shining mail. “Therefore I must pray even the Queen of
Egypt to obey me. Or if that is not enough, I must pray Nefra, a
Sister of the Dawn, to accept the word of the Prophet of the Dawn
without question, as she is sworn to do. The safety of the Queen of
Egypt is much, as is the safety of the Prince Khian. But the safety
and the triumph of the great host of the King of Kings are more.”
Nefra heard and was about to answer furiously, for her high spirit was
aflame. Yet there was that on the strong face and in the quiet eyes of
Tau that stilled her words before they were uttered. She looked at him
a while, then burst into tears and, turning, departed to her tent.
Next morning at the dawn the five thousand horsemen with certain
chariots, guided by that officer and others who had brought tidings,
departed to rescue Khian and his companions from the stronghold where
he was imprisoned.