While we lingered at Miyah Keiv to allow Lord Remrem and his party to precede us to Zaynab Oasis I had time to read, and plan ahead for our arrival in Babylon. Time passed pleasantly if not swiftly.
For others in our company there were more spectacular and explosive events. Chief amongst these was the termination of the friendship between Bekatha and Colonel Hui.
At Bekatha’s insistence Hui was giving her riding lessons each evening. Under his tutelage she was fast becoming an intrepid equestrienne. She had always been fearless, and her balance and her seat in the saddle surpassed that of most of Hui’s troopers. These fine gentlemen had always been charioteers by nature, and most of them preferred to be behind a horse rather than on top of it.
On the other hand Bekatha loved to ride high and handsome as I had taught her. She was always able to get the very best out of her mount. She loved to show off her skills and she always performed at her best when she had an audience.
One evening Hui was coaching her in the game of spheres. The sphere was a large and weighty ball composed of strips of woven rawhide. The opposing teams were made up of four riders each, and the object was to carry the sphere between two upright stakes at the end of a marked ground while the opposing team endeavoured to prevent that from happening. It was a rough and raucous contest usually watched and cheered on by a large crowd.
This particular evening Hui was making Bekatha practise leaning out from the saddle to pick up a sphere which was rolling and bouncing over the sandy ground ahead of her horse. As usual there was an audience of some fifty off-duty guardsmen and other loafers lining the field to watch the sport.
Bekatha came down the field at full gallop. She had both hands free of the reins and was guiding her mount with her knees.
Hui was standing on the sideline holding the sphere and waiting for her. As she came up he threw the sphere out ahead of her. She leaned from the saddle to make the pick-up; all her weight was on her near-side stirrup. In my informed and critical judgement I thought it was a most elegant and athletic performance. The crowd roared their encouragement, and I joined in with them.
Bekatha seemed almost elfin on the back of the enormous animal but still she was able to reach down far enough to grasp one of the four leather handles of the rolling sphere. Triumphantly she began to lift her prize.
Then her stirrup leather snapped, and to my consternation Bekatha sailed clear of the saddle. I began to run before she hit the ground. I was sure she was killed or at the least seriously injured. Hui was just as quick and he was closer to her than I was as she was unhorsed.
To my delighted relief Bekatha bounded to her feet again and stood there quivering with mortification and rage. She had landed in a mound of fresh horse manure. This had broken her fall and probably saved her life, but it had done little for her appearance and nothing at all for her dignity.
She was besmeared from the top of her fiery curls downwards with loose green dung. Hui came up short before he reached her, and he stood staring at her. I could see that he had not the faintest idea of what he should do next. Before I could reach him to mollify Bekatha and resolve the crisis, Hui did the one thing most certain to escalate it. He laughed.
Bekatha responded in the only way that was natural to her. She slipped the leash on her famous temper. She was still clutching the sphere in her right hand. She hurled it at his head. Hui was not expecting to be attacked and he was taken off guard. The range was point-blank. The sphere was heavy and the sundried leather was hard as bone. It hit him on the bridge of his prominent nose and the blood spurted in a jet. Even that was insufficient to appease Bekatha’s wounded pride.
She stooped and in one swift movement gathered up a double handful of horse dung from the pile in which she was standing; then she charged straight at Hui and slapped both handfuls on to his injured nose.
‘If you think that I am funny you should see yourself now, Colonel Hui,’ she told him in cold fury. Then she spun around and marched from the field heading for the royal compound. No one else in the crowd of spectators dared to laugh, not even I.
Hui was never again invited to dine at the royal table. He never again enjoyed the distinction of being bombarded with foodstuffs, or of giving riding lessons to royalty.
A few days later I overheard a conversation between Bekatha and Loxias. It was in Minoan and they were in the tent in the royal compound which I had set aside as the girls’ classroom. I was standing outside the back of the tent admiring the view of the multi-coloured cliffs above the encampment. Of course I was not deliberately eavesdropping on my pupils, but sometimes when I paused briefly at this particular spot before entering the tent I did inadvertently overhear interesting exchanges between them.
‘Have you forgiven Colonel Hui yet?’ I heard Loxias ask and Bekatha answered vehemently:
‘I shall never forgive him. He is an oaf and a barbarian. When I am Queen of Crete I shall probably have him beheaded.’
‘That should be amusing. Will you invite me to watch?’
‘I was not jesting, Loxias. I really mean it.’
‘But you told me and Tehuti that he was the only man in the world for you?’
‘I have changed my mind.’ Bekatha’s tone was lofty. ‘What would I want with an ugly old man with no manners and forty wives just as ugly as he is?’
‘He isn’t so old, Bekatha, and he is rather handsome. I know for a fact that he has only five wives in Thebes and some of them are quite pretty.’
‘He is ancient,’ Bekatha replied firmly. ‘He is probably even older than Taita. And he does not strike me as rather handsome with a broken nose and horseshit all over his face. His five wives can have him. I don’t want anything more to do with him ever again.’
I excused Bekatha’s robust choice of words, and her derogatory reference to my age. At least one of my immediate problems had been resolved for me. It was no longer necessary for me to stand guard over Bekatha’s virginity in addition to that of her big sister.
I allowed myself be overtaken with a fit of coughing and the voices within the tent stilled. When I stooped in through the opening the two young ladies’ heads were bowed over their writing tablets. They were both most laudably absorbed in the task that I had set them of copying a scroll of Egyptian history from the authoritative version which I had written myself some years previously, and translating it into the Cretan language. Bekatha barely glanced up at me when I paused beside her.
‘I am very impressed with your industry and the perfection of your hieroglyphics, Your Highness. But why is your sister not with you?’
‘Oh, she’s too busy out there.’ She pointed with her brush. ‘She told me that she would come to join us later.’ Then she returned her full attention to the scroll she was working on.
I had been aware of the chanting of the guardsmen coming from the improvised drill ground on the edge of our encampment, but this was so commonplace that I had paid no mind to it. Now that Bekatha had piqued my curiosity I left the tent and went out to investigate. There was a swarm of grooms, entertainers, servants, slaves and other non-combatants lining the drill ground. They were so absorbed that I had to prod them with my staff before they opened the way for me to pass through. I reached the edge of the drill ground, and I stood there and looked around for Tehuti but I could not immediately spot her.
Zaras was standing facing the ranks of his men. They were all wearing half-armour. However, the visors of their helmets were raised to reveal their faces. They stood to attention holding their drawn swords at the salute, the naked blades touching their lips.
‘Passage of Arms!’ Zaras ordered at a bellow. ‘The twelve advancing cuts and lunges. One …’
‘One!’ chanted his men, and in perfect unison they lunged low left, and then recovered. The blades glittered like gold in the low sunlight.
Then suddenly my eyes alighted on a smaller figure in the centre of the leading rank. For a moment I doubted what I was seeing. Then I realized that I was not mistaken
, and that it was indeed Tehuti. She wore a perfectly fitting guard’s uniform. At least three of her Nubian handmaidens were expert needlewomen who could have sewn that together in an evening. Any one of the regimental blacksmiths might have altered the half-armour to fit her slender form. She was brandishing a heavy regulation sword that had been forged for a man half again her size.
Her face was flushed. Her hair was sodden with sweat, as was her tunic. I was appalled. She looked like a peasant girl who had spent the day scything corn or hoeing her husband’s fields. She was surrounded by a gang of rough soldiers, and she was behaving as though she felt no shame for her appearance or respect for her rank and exalted station.
Of course I had agreed to her receiving lessons in sword-play from Zaras. I admit that I had even encouraged the plan. However, I had taken it for granted that those lessons would have taken place in private; and well screened from the common horde.
The good gods will readily attest that I am no snob, but there should be limits to royal condescension.
My first impulse was to rush out on to the drill ground, seize Tehuti by the scruff of her neck, drag her back into the privacy of the royal compound and insist in the strongest terms that in future she was more suitably attired and that her behaviour was more seemly when she was under public scrutiny.
Then my good sense prevailed. I knew that she would not hesitate to defy me in front of an entire regiment, and to dilute the respect and awe in which they hold me. While I dithered the opportunity passed me by.
I watched her glide through the Passage of Arms with such consummate skill and grace that she made the hard warriors who surrounded her seem to be lumbering ploughmen. She never missed a step nor lost the rhythm. Smoothly she switched her sword from hand to hand, lunging and cutting as swiftly and accurately with the left as with the right. Her face was a mask of concentration and determination. Her performance was a thing of high skill and great beauty, and there was no mistaking the power in the slender arms that wielded the heavy blade. She made it whisper and sing a song of deadly menace as she moved through the exercises. At the end she stopped as still as an ivory statue, balancing in full extension and holding her sword as though it were made of gossamer, not heavy metal.
‘Stand easy!’ Zaras ordered. The spectators burst into a chorus of applause, clapping and stamping their feet. Then a single voice called her name, drawing it out into three distinct syllables:
‘Te-Hoo-Tee!’ Immediately the chant was taken up by the others: ‘Te-Hoo-Tee!’
Their adulation was contagious. I was filled with pride and love for my little protégée. I found myself caught up in the fervour of hero worship.
‘Te-Hoo-Tee.’
My own dignity was forgotten as I joined in the chanting chorus.
At last a camel rider arrived at Miyah Keiv from the north. He carried a message from Lord Remrem informing me that his advance company was about to march from the oasis at Zaynab where they had been recuperating for the last two weeks.
Remrem assured me that all was well. He had lost no men and only one camel, which had broken its leg in a fight with another bull. He had been forced to slaughter the beast and feed the meat as rations to his men. He urged me to come on to Zaynab at my best speed where I would find the oasis deserted and the surface water fully replenished from its subterranean spring.
I passed the order to Zaras, but it took another two days to break camp and load the pack animals. During that time I summoned Zaras to my quarters and made him strip to enable me to check the healing of his injuries. I found him to be in magnificent physical condition. His surgical scars were difficult to detect, particularly in view of the fact that his dark body hair had grown out profusely to cover them. He assured me that despite the internal laceration inflicted upon it his bowel function was as efficient as it had ever been; and I did not feel that it was necessary to require a demonstration of this claim from him. That very morning I had seen him returning at the front of a ten-league foot race, in full armour and with a large sack of sand balanced on one shoulder.
Our company marched from Miyah Keiv in the late afternoon when the sun had lost its virulent heat. We continued through the night, with a waxing moon to light our way. We went into camp again with the rise of the hot new sun and almost twenty leagues behind us. I was well pleased. I walked through the new encampment to make certain that all was in good order before I took my own rest. It always surprises me how a few kind words from me are treasured by even the lowliest members of our entourage. One often forgets how one is revered by others less talented than oneself.
However, on this occasion my equanimity was shattered by the uproar that greeted me when I returned to the royal compound. In fact I became aware of it while I was still some distance away. The weeping, the wails of despair, the cries of bitter remonstrations all carried clearly on the desert air. I broke into a run, convinced that tragedy and death had struck in our midst.
When I entered the compound I found that the royal handmaidens and servants were almost witless with terror. They were unable to respond to my urgent questions. I became so impatient with their stupidity that I seized one of the Nubian handmaidens by the shoulders and tried to shake some sense into her. This proved to be unwise. The simple uproar surrounding me became total bedlam.
Hurriedly I released the little lass and reassured her that I was not going to chastise her, and then I headed for the central tent which belonged to Tehuti. When I entered I had to push my way through the throng of loudly lamenting femininity to reach my princess, who was lying on her cot. She was on her stomach with her face buried in her arms. Her entire body was racked with sobs.
As soon as she heard my voice she jumped off the cot and threw herself into my arms.
‘What is it, my little one? Has somebody died? What terrible tragedy has overtaken you?’
‘My ring! I have lost my ring … and I am certain that somebody has stolen it.’
‘What ring?’ For the moment I was mystified.
She held up her left hand with all her fingers extended stiffly. ‘My ring is gone. The ring you gave me; the magical diamond ring that you brought me from the fortress at Tamiat.’
‘Calm yourself. We will find it for you.’ I was relieved at the mild nature of the calamity.
‘But what if you can’t find it? It’s the one thing I love most in the entire world. I will kill myself if it is lost.’
‘Firstly get all these women out of here, and then we can talk about it calmly and sensibly.’ I used my staff and my most persuasive language to drive the cackling women from the tent. Then I returned to sit beside Tehuti on the cot and take her hand.
‘Now, tell me where and when you last saw it,’ I invited her. She pondered my question and as I watched her face I realized that despite all the sobbing and lamentation and threats of suicide her lovely eyes were devoid of tears. In fact now that we were alone she appeared to be quite relaxed, even quite enjoying herself. My suspicions were immediately aroused.
‘Ah, yes! I have it!’ Her face lit up with theatrical relief. ‘I remember now. I know where I must have lost it. Just before we left Miyah Keiv yesterday afternoon Loxias, Bekatha and I went for a last swim in the water cavern. I remember that I took the ring off my finger before I entered the water, and I placed it in the same crack in the rock that I always do, so that I would not lose it. I must have left it there.’
‘Are you certain? You could not have dropped it elsewhere?’ I asked seriously, going along with her fibs and fantasies.
‘Yes, I am certain. And no, I could not have dropped it elsewhere,’ she assured me just as earnestly.
‘Well, that makes it very easy.’ I smiled at her. ‘Your worries are over, Tehuti. I shall send Colonel Hui back to Miyah Keiv to find it for you. On his fastest horse he should get there and back before tomorrow morning.’
‘But …’ She was taken aback. She wrung her hands with distress. ‘No … I don’t want you to send Hui.’
/> ‘Why not?’ I asked innocently. ‘Hui is a good man.’
‘I think …’ She paused as she tried to find a convincing reason. I gave her time to come up with her next invention.
‘It will be difficult to describe to Hui exactly where I left it. Hui is a foreigner. His Egyptian isn’t very good.’
I watched her steadily and she could not meet my eyes. ‘He may have a foreign accent but his Egyptian is good enough to command a regiment,’ I refuted her excuse, but she rallied gamely.
‘I don’t trust Hui. You know how he humiliated our poor little Bekatha. He will probably steal the ring. I wouldn’t put anything past him.’
‘In that case perhaps you should rather go back to the cavern to find it yourself.’
‘I hadn’t thought of that!’ she exclaimed enthusiastically, having steered me to the conclusion she wished for all along. ‘But you are right, Taita. I will have to go myself.’
‘But you cannot go alone. I will have to send somebody with you. Not Hui, of course, because you do not trust foreigners.’ I pretended to think it over. ‘I would have sent Lord Remrem, but of course he is not here. At any other time I would ride with you, but my back is sore and I must rest it.’ I placed both hands in the small of my back and gave a soft grunt of pain.
‘My poor Taita! I would never allow you to take the chance of injuring yourself further.’ She watched my face anxiously.
‘I have it!’ I exclaimed. ‘I shall have to send Captain Zaras with you!’
She dropped her eyes. She realized that I had been teasing her, and she had the grace to be abashed. She looked up at me and she saw my expression was benign. She gave up her playacting and giggled endearingly. Then she threw her arms around my neck and hugged me so hard that it hurt.
‘I love you,’ she whispered. ‘I really and truly do.’
I returned her hug, and I whispered back, ‘It might be more discreet if you leave that naughty old ring with me, just in case it does truly jump from your finger.’