Free The Oasis by Pauline Gedge Page A

my nomes and my estate once my family had been separated and scattered. He is indeed my kinsman, but it is a connection of which I am ashamed.” Without looking from one to the other, he swiftly gauged their responses. Intef sighed and placed his hands on the table. Makhu and Iasen appeared to be pondering. Their frowns matched. But Prince Ankhmahor was nodding, and a faint smile came and went on Mesehti’s mouth.
    “It is just,” Ankhmahor agreed. “We are risking everything we have. The cost of sparing Teti is too high.”
    “Of course you would have no qualms, Ankhmahor,” Iasen objected. “You have been given the honour of commanding the Braves of the King. Why would you jeopardize a position of such trust by arguing against your lord?”
    “That is exactly the sort of crooked reasoning that appealed to the baser side of Teti’s nature,” Mesehti snapped back. “If Ankhmahor commands, it is because our lord has recognized his ability to do so. A little humility is a welcome ingredient in the character of a noble, Iasen. Let us not become mired in this issue, although we agree that it is a painful one.”
    “I welcome dissent, Iasen,” Kamose cut in. “I would not have my nobles and officers hide their thoughts from me for fear of some petty penalty. Yet all ultimate decisions are mine, and I have decided that for the sake of our security as we move north and for the sake of Ma’at, Teti will die for his treason. Does anyone wish to voice a formal dissent?” No one spoke. After a moment in which Kamose saw their faces go blank, he sat down and signalled Akhtoy to have the waiting servants pour wine and offer the sweetmeats they held. “Very well,” he continued. “I will now hear reports from each of you on the state of the peasants under you, and I will take your suggestions regarding the dispersal of expertise within the divisions. Dashlut yielded a few more weapons and they must go to those men who have shown a talent for using them.”
    “There are many chariots and horses in Khemmenu,” Ahmose interposed. “We must capture all of them we can. We have no charioteers but we can train some as we go. Ask your officers to keep their ears and eyes open for that particular aptitude in the ranks.”
    “Charioteers should be officers,” Makhu muttered, and Kamose clenched his fists under cover of the table’s edge.
    “Then we will promote those men who show such promise,” he said coolly. “Let us move on to other things.”
    When the council was over and the Princes had retired to their tents or boats, Kamose took his brother and Hor-Aha and, walking as far away from the din of the army as possible, they stripped and swam for a while. Then they lay in the sun beside the water. “What will you really do at Khemmenu?” Ahmose asked him. “Do you intend to spare the civilians, as you told the Princes you would?”
    “I was wondering the same thing,” Hor-Aha said. He had loosened his braids and was running his fingers through the waves of his long black hair. “It is a dangerous idea, Majesty. Why decimate Dashlut and spare Khemmenu, a town full of Setiu? Traders, artisans, wealthy merchants, by far the bulk of the town’s population is foreign and the remainder have mixed with them happily for many years, taking on the colour of their thoughts and their modes of worship. Khemmenu is as diseased as Het-Uart.”
    Kamose studied his General. No emotion played across those even, dark features. Water from his thick hair ran down his brawny arm to spatter in the sand between his parted thighs. His brows were drawn together in a frown, but Kamose was sure that the grimace had more to do with Hor-Aha’s thoughts than any feeling for the people he wished to see killed.
    “I shrink from such a slaughter because of Dashlut,” he replied. “It was not easy to do what I did there and another butchery at Khemmenu would be doubly horrible.” Hor-Aha shot him a keen glance.
    “So my King has had enough