THE AMBUSH
Eight full days went by before we left the land of Goshen. The story
that the Israelites had to tell was long, sad also. Moreover, they gave
evidence as to many cruel things that they had suffered, and when this
was finished the testimony of the guards and others must be called, all
of which it was necessary to write down. Lastly, the Prince seemed to
be in no hurry to be gone, as he said because he hoped that the two
prophets would return from the wilderness, which they never did. During
all this time Seti saw no more of Merapi, nor indeed did he speak of
her, even when the Count Amenmeses jested him as to his chariot
companion and asked him if he had driven again in the desert by
moonlight.
I, however, saw her once. When I was wandering in the town one day
towards sunset, I met her walking with her uncle Jabez upon one side
and her lover, Laban, on the other, like a prisoner between two guards.
I thought she looked unhappy, but her foot seemed to be well again; at
least she moved without limping.
I stopped to salute her, but Laban scowled and hurried her away. Jabez
stayed behind and fell into talk with me. He told me that she was
recovered of her hurt, but that there had been trouble between her and
Laban because of all that happened on that evening when she came by it,
ending in his encounter with the captain.
“This young man seems to be of a jealous nature,” I said,
“one who will make a harsh husband for any woman.”
“Yes, learned scribe, jealousy has been his curse from youth as it is
with so many of our people, and I thank God that I am not the woman whom
he is to marry.”
“Why, then, do you suffer her to marry him, Jabez?”
“Because her father affianced her to this lion’s whelp when she was
scarce more than a child, and among us that is a bond hard to break. For
my own part,” he added, dropping his voice, and glancing round with
shifting eyes, “I should like to see my niece in some different place
to that of the wife of Laban. With her great beauty and wit, she might
become anything—anything if she had opportunity. But under our laws,
even if Laban died, as might happen to so violent a man, she could wed
no one who is not a Hebrew.”
“I thought she told us that her mother was a Syrian.”
“That is so, Scribe Ana. She was a beautiful captive of war whom
Nathan came to love and made his wife, and the daughter takes after
her. Still she is Hebrew and of the Hebrew faith and congregation. Had
it not been so, she might have shone like a star, nay, like the very
moon after which she is named, perhaps in the court of Pharaoh
himself.”
“As the great queen Taia did, she who changed the religion of Egypt to
the worship of one god in a bygone generation,” I suggested.
“I have heard of her, Scribe Ana. She was a wondrous woman, beautiful
too by her statues. Would that you Egyptians could find such another to
turn your hearts to a purer faith and to soften them towards us poor
aliens. When does his Highness leave the land of Goshen?”
“At sunrise on the third day from this.”
“Provision will be needed for the journey, much provision for so large
a train. I deal in sheep and other foodstuffs, Scribe Ana.”
“I will mention the matter to his Highness and to the Vizier,
Jabez.”
“I thank you, Scribe, and will be in waiting at the camp to-morrow
morning. See, Laban returns with Merapi. One word, let his Highness
beware of Laban. He is very revengeful and has not forgotten that
sword-blow on the head.”
“Let Laban be careful,” I answered. “Had it not been for his
Highness the soldiers would have killed him the other night because he
dared to offer affront to the royal blood. A second time he will not
escape. Moreover, Pharaoh would avenge aught he did upon the people of
Israel.”
“I understand. It would be sad if Laban were killed, very sad. But the
people of Israel have One who can protect them even against Pharaoh and
all his hosts. Farewell, learned Scribe. If ever I come to Tanis, with
your leave we will talk more together.”
That night I told the Prince all that had passed. He listened, and said:
“I grieve for the lady Merapi, for hers is like to be a hard fate.
Yet,” he added laughing, “perhaps it is as well for you, friend,
that you should see no more of her who is sure to bring trouble wherever
she goes. That woman has a face which haunts the mind, as the Ka haunts
the tomb, and for my part I do not wish to look upon it again.”
“I am glad to hear it, Prince, and for my part, I have done with
women, however sweet. I will tell this Jabez that the provisions for
the journey will be bought elsewhere.”
“Nay, buy them from him, and if Nehesi grumbles at the price, pay it
on my account. The way to a Hebrew’s heart is through his treasure
bags. If Jabez is well treated, it may make him kinder to his niece, of
whom I shall always have a pleasant memory, for which I am grateful
among this sour folk who hate us, and with reason.”
So the sheep and all the foodstuffs for the journey were bought from
Jabez at his own price, for which he thanked me much, and on the third
day we started. At the last moment the Prince, whose mood seemed to be
perverse that evening, refused to travel with the host upon the morrow
because of the noise and dust. In vain did the Count Amenmeses reason
with him, and Nehesi and the great officers implore him almost on their
knees, saying that they must answer for his safety to Pharaoh and the
Princess Userti. He bade them begone, replying that he would join them
at their camp on the following night. I also prayed him to listen, but
he told me sharply that what he said he had said, and that he and I
would journey in his chariot alone, with two armed runners and no more,
adding that if I thought there was danger I could go forward with the
troops. Then I bit my lip and was silent, whereon, seeing that he had
hurt me, he turned and craved my pardon humbly enough as his kind heart
taught him to do.
“I can bear no more of Amenmeses and those officers,” he said,
“and I love to be in the desert alone. Last time we journeyed there we
met with adventures that were pleasant, Ana, and at Tanis doubtless I
shall find others that are not pleasant. Admit that Hebrew priest who
is waiting to instruct me in the mysteries of his faith which I desire
to understand.”
So I bowed and left him to make report that I had failed to shake his
will. Taking the risk of his wrath, however, I did this—for had I not
sworn to the Princess that I would protect him? In place of the runners
I chose two of the best and bravest soldiers to play their part.
Moreover, I instructed that captain who smote down Laban to hide away
with a score of picked men and enough chariots to carry them, and to
follow after the Prince, keeping just out of sight.
So on the morrow the troops, nobles, and officers went on at daybreak,
together with the baggage carriers; nor did we follow them till many
hours had gone by. Some of this time the Prince spent in driving about
the town, taking note of the condition of the people. These, as I saw,
looked on us sullenly enough, more so than before, I thought, perhaps
because we were unguarded. Indeed, turning round I caught sight of a
man shaking his fist and of an old hag spitting after us, and wished
that we were out of the land of Goshen. But when I reported it to the
Prince he only laughed and took no heed.
“All can see that they hate us Egyptians,” he said. “Well,
let it be our task to try to turn their hate to love.”
“That you will never do, Prince, it is too deep-rooted in their
hearts; for generations they have drunk it in with their mother’s
milk. Moreover, this is a war of the gods of Egypt and of Israel, and
men must go where their gods drive them.”
“Do you think so, Ana? Then are men nothing but dust blown by the
winds of heaven, blown from the darkness that is before the dawn to be
gathered at last and for ever into the darkness of the grave of
night?”
He brooded a while, then went on.
“Yet if I were Pharaoh I would let these people go, for without doubt
their god has much power and I tell you that I fear them.”
“Why will he not let them go?” I asked. “They are a weakness,
not a strength to Egypt, as was shown at the time of the invasion of the
Barbarians with whom they sided. Moreover, the value of this rich land
of theirs, which they cannot take with them, is greater than that of
all their labour.”
“I do not know, friend. The matter is one upon which my father keeps
his own counsel, even from the Princess Userti. Perhaps it is because
he will not change the policy of his father, Rameses; perhaps because
he is stiff-necked to those who cross his will. Or it may be that he is
held in this path by a madness sent of some god to bring loss and shame
on Egypt.”
“Then, Prince, all the priests and nobles are mad also, from Count
Amenmeses down.”
“Where Pharaoh leads priests and nobles follow. The question is, who
leads Pharaoh? Here is the temple of these Hebrews; let us enter.”
So we descended from the chariot, where, for my part, I would have
remained, and walked through the gateway in the surrounding mud wall
into the outer court of the temple, which on this the holy seventh day
of the Hebrews was full of praying women, who feigned not to see us yet
watched us out of the corners of their eyes. Passing through them we
came to a doorway, by which we entered another court that was roofed
over. Here were many men who murmured as we appeared. They were engaged
in listening to a preacher in a white robe, who wore a strange shaped
cap and some ornaments on his breast. I knew the man; he was the priest
Kohath who had instructed the Prince in so much of the mysteries of the
Hebrew faith as he chose to reveal. On seeing us he ceased suddenly in
his discourse, uttered some hasty blessing and advanced to greet us.
I waited behind the Prince, thinking it well to watch his back among all
those fierce men, and did not hear what the priest said to him, as he
whispered in that holy place. Kohath led him forward, to free him from
the throng, I thought, till they came to the head of the little temple
that was marked by some steps, above which hung a thick and heavy
curtain. The Prince, walking on, did not see the lowest of these steps
in the gloom, which was deep. His foot caught on it; he fell forward,
and to save himself grasped at the curtain where the two halves of it
met, and dragged it open, revealing a chamber plain and small beyond,
in which was an altar. That was all I had time to see, for next instant
a roar of rage rent the air and knives flashed in the gloom.
“The Egyptian defiles the tabernacle!” shouted one. “Drag him
out and kill him!” screamed another.
“Friends,” said Seti, turning as they surged towards him, “if
I have done aught wrong it was by chance——”
He could add no more, seeing that they were on him, or rather on me who
had leapt in front of him. Already they had grasped my robes and my
hand was on my sword-hilt, when the priest Kohath cried out:
“Men of Israel, are you mad? Would you bring Pharaoh’s vengeance on
us?”
They halted a little and their spokesman shouted:
“We defy Pharaoh! Our God will protect us from Pharaoh. Drag him forth
and kill him beyond the wall!”
Again they began to move, when a man, in whom I recognized Jabez, the
uncle of Merapi, called aloud:
“Cease! If this Prince of Egypt has done insult to Jahveh by will and
not by chance, it is certain that he will avenge himself upon him.
Shall men take the judgment of God into their own hands? Stand back and
wait awhile. If Jahveh is affronted, the Egyptian will fall dead. If he
does not fall dead, let him pass hence unharmed, for such is Jahveh’s
will. Stand back, I say, while I count threescore.”
They withdrew a space and slowly Jabez began to count.
Although at that time I knew nothing of the power of the god of Israel,
I will say that I was filled with fear as one by one he counted,
pausing at each ten. The scene was very strange. There by the steps
stood the Prince against the background of the curtain, his arms folded
and a little smile of wonder mixed with contempt upon his face, but not
a sign of fear. On one side of him was I, who knew well that I should
share his fate whatever it might be, and indeed desired no other; and
on the other the priest Kohath, whose hands shook and whose eyes
started from his head. In front of us old Jabez counted, watching the
fierce-faced congregation that in a dead silence waited for the issue.
The count went on. Thirty. Forty. Fifty—oh! it seemed an age.
At length sixty fell from his lips. He waited a while and all watched
the Prince, not doubting but that he would fall dead. But instead he
turned to Kohath and asked quietly if this ordeal was now finished, as
he desired to make an offering to the temple, which he had been invited
to visit, and begone.
“Our God has given his answer,” said Jabez. “Accept it, men
of Israel. What this Prince did he did by chance, not of design.”
They turned and went without a word, and after I had laid the offering,
no mean one, in the appointed place, we followed them.
“It would seem that yours is no gentle god,” said the Prince to
Kohath, when at length we were outside the temple.
“At least he is just, your Highness. Had it been otherwise, you who
had violated his sanctuary, although by chance, would ere now be
dead.”
“Then you hold, Priest, that Jahveh has power to slay us when he is
angry?”
“Without a doubt, your Highness—as, if our Prophets speak truth, I
think that Egypt will learn ere all be done,” he added grimly.
Seti looked at him and answered:
“It may be so, but all gods, or their priests, claim the power to
torment and slay those who worship other gods. It is not only women who
are jealous, Kohath, or so it seems. Yet I think that you do your god
injustice, seeing that even if this strength is his, he proved more
merciful than his worshippers who knew well that I only grasped the
veil to save myself from falling. If ever I visit your temple again it
shall be in the company of those who can match might against might,
whether of the spirit or the sword. Farewell.”
So we reached the chariot, near to which stood Jabez, he who had saved
us.
“Prince,” he whispered, glancing at the crowd who lingered not far
away, silent and glowering, “I pray you leave this land swiftly for
here your life is not safe. I know it was by chance, but you have
defiled the sanctuary and seen that upon which eyes may not look save
those of the highest priests, an offence no Israelite can forgive.”
“And you, or your people, Jabez, would have defiled this sanctuary of
my life, spilling my heart’s blood and _not_ by chance. Surely you
are a strange folk who seek to make an enemy of one who has tried to be
your friend.”
“I do not seek it,” exclaimed Jabez. “I would that we might
have Pharaoh’s mouth and ear who soon will himself be Pharaoh upon our
side. O Prince of Egypt, be not wroth with all the children of Israel
because their wrongs have made some few of them stubborn and
hard-hearted. Begone now, and of your goodness remember my words.”
“I will remember,” said Seti, signing to the charioteer to drive on.
Yet still the Prince lingered in the town, saying that he feared nothing
and would learn all he could of this people and their ways that he
might report the better of them to Pharaoh. For my part I believed that
there was one face which he wished to see again before he left, but of
this I thought it wise to say nothing.
At length about midday we did depart, and drove eastwards on the track
of Amenmeses and our company. All the afternoon we drove thus, preceded
by the two soldiers disguised as runners and followed, as a distant
cloud of dust told me, by the captain and his chariots, whom I had
secretly commanded to keep us in sight.
Towards evening we came to the pass in the stony hills which bounded the
land of Goshen. Here Seti descended from the chariot, and we climbed,
accompanied by the two soldiers whom I signed to follow us, to the
crest of one of these hills that was strewn with huge boulders and
lined with ridges of sandstone, between which gullies had been cut by
the winds of thousands of years.
Leaning against one of these ridges we looked back upon a wondrous
sight. Far away across the fertile plain appeared the town that we had
left, and behind it the sun sank. It would seem as though some storm
had broken there, although the firmament above us was clear and blue.
At least in front of the town two huge pillars of cloud stretched from
earth to heaven like the columns of some mighty gateway. One of these
pillars was as though it were made of black marble, and the other like
to molten gold. Between them ran a road of light ending in a glory, and
in the midst of the glory the round ball of Ra, the Sun, burned like
the eye of God. The spectacle was as awesome as it was splendid.
“Have you ever seen such a sky in Egypt, Prince?” I asked.
“Never,” he answered, and although he spoke low, in that great
stillness his voice sounded loud to me.
For a while longer we watched, till suddenly the sun sank, and only the
glory about it and above remained, which took shapes like to the
palaces and temples of a city in the heavens, a far city that no mortal
could reach except in dreams.
“I know not why, Ana,” said Seti, “but for the first time
since I was a man I feel afraid. It seems to me that there are omens in
the sky and I cannot read them. Would that Ki were here to tell us what
is signified by the pillar of blackness to the right and the pillar of
fire to the left, and what god has his home in the city of glory
behind, and how man’s feet may walk along the shining road which
leads to its pylon gates. I tell you that I am afraid; it is as though
Death were very near to me and all his wonders open to my mortal
sight.”
“I too am afraid,” I whispered. “Look! The pillars move. That
of fire goes before; that of black cloud follows after, and between them
I seem to see a countless multitude marching in unending companies. See
how the light glitters on their spears! Surely the god of the Hebrews
is afoot.”
“He, or some other god, or no god at all, who knows? Come, Ana, let us
be going if we would reach that camp ere dark.”
So we descended from the ridge, and re-entering the chariot, drove on
towards the neck of the pass. Now this neck was very narrow, not more
than four paces wide for a certain distance, and, on either side of the
roadway were tumbled sandstone boulders, between which grew desert
plants, and gullies that had been cut by storm-water, while beyond
these rose the sides of the mountain. Here the horses went at a walk
towards a turn in the path, at which point the land began to fall
again.
When we were about half a spear’s throw from this turn of a sudden I
heard a sound and, glancing to the right, perceived a woman leaping down
the hillside towards us. The charioteer saw also and halted the horses,
and the two runner guards turned and drew their swords. In less than
half a minute the woman had reached us, coming out of the shadow so
that the light fell upon her face.
“Merapi!” exclaimed the Prince and I, speaking as though with one
breath.
Merapi it was indeed, but in evil case. Her long hair had broken loose
and fell about her, the cloak she wore was torn, and there were blood
and foam upon her lips. She stood gasping, since speak she could not
for breathlessness, supporting herself with one hand upon the side of
the chariot and with the other pointing to the bend in the road. At
last a word came, one only. It was:
“Murder!”
“She means that she is going to be murdered,” said the Prince to me.
“No,” she panted, “you—you! The Hebrews. Go back!”
“Turn the horses!” I cried to the charioteer.
He began to obey helped by the two guards, but because of the narrowness
of the road and the steepness of the banks this was not easy. Indeed
they were but half round in such fashion that they blocked the pathway
from side to side, when a wild yell of ‘Jahveh’ broke upon our
ears, and from round the bend, a few paces away, rushed a horde of
fierce, hook-nosed men, brandishing knives and swords. Scarcely was
there time for us to leap behind the shelter of the chariot and make
ready, when they were on us.
“Hearken,” I said to the charioteer as they came, “run as you
never ran before, and bring up the guard behind!”
He sprang away like an arrow.
“Get back, Lady,” cried Seti. “This is no woman’s work,
and see here comes Laban to seek you,” and he pointed with his sword
at the leader of the murderers.
She obeyed, staggering a few paces to a stone at the roadside, behind
which she crouched. Afterwards she told me that she had no strength to
go further, and indeed no will, since if we were killed, it were better
that she who had warned us should be killed also.
Now they had reached us, the whole flood of them, thirty or forty men.
The first who came stabbed the frightened horses, and down they went
against the bank, struggling. On the chariot leapt the Hebrews, seeking
to come at us, and we met them as best we might, tearing off our cloaks
and throwing them over our left arms to serve as shields.
Oh! what a fight was that. In the open, or had we not been prepared, we
must have been slain at once, but, as it was, the place and the barrier
of the chariot gave us some advantage. So narrow was the roadway, the
walls of which were here too steep to climb, that not more than four of
the Hebrews could strike at us at once, which four must first surmount
the chariot or the still living horses.
But we also were four, and thanks to Userti, two of us were clad in mail
beneath our robes—four strong men fighting for their lives. Against us
came four of the Hebrews. One leapt from the chariot straight at Seti,
who received him upon the point of his iron sword, whereof I heard the
hilt ring against his breast-bone, that same famous iron sword which
to-day lies buried with him in his grave.
Down he came dead, throwing the Prince to the ground by the weight of
his body. The Hebrew who attacked me caught his foot on the chariot
pole and fell forward, so I killed him easily with a blow upon the
head, which gave me time to drag the Prince to his feet again before
another followed. The two guards also, sturdy fighters both of them,
killed or mortally wounded their men. But others were pressing behind
so thick and fast that I could keep no count of all that happened
afterwards.
Presently I saw one of the guards fall, slain by Laban. A stab on the
breast sent me reeling backwards; had it not been for that mail I was
sped. The other guard killed him who would have killed me, and then
himself was killed by two who came on him at once.
Now only the Prince and I were left, fighting back to back. He closed
with one man, a very great fellow, and wounded him on the hand, so that
he dropped his sword. This man gripped him round the middle and they
rolled together on the ground. Laban appeared and stabbed the Prince in
the back, but the curved knife he was using snapped on the Syrian mail.
I struck at Laban and wounded him on the head, dazing him so that he
staggered back and seemed to fall over the chariot. Then others rushed
at me, and but for Userti’s armour three times at least I must have
died. Fighting madly, I staggered against the rock, and whilst waiting
for a new onset, saw that Seti, hurt by Laban’s thrust, was now
beneath the great Hebrew who had him by the throat, and was choking the
life out of him.
I saw something else also—a woman holding a sword with both hands and
stabbing downward, after which the grip of the Hebrew loosened from
Seti’s throat.
“Traitress!” cried one, and struck at her, so that she reeled back
hurt. Then when all seemed finished, and beneath the rain of blows my
senses were failing, I heard the thunder of horses’ hoofs and the
shout of “_Egypt! Egypt!_” from the throats of soldiers. The flash
of bronze caught my dazed eyes, and with the roar of battle in my ears
I seemed to fall asleep just as the light of day departed.