Free The Oasis by Pauline Gedge Page B

already?” he said.
    “I do not like your tone, General,” Ahmose interposed. “It may be that in Wawat the life of a tribesman is worth no more than an animal but we are not barbarians in Egypt.” Hor-Aha eyed him with composure.
    “Forgive me my words, Highness,” he said evenly. “I meant no offence. But the Setiu are barbarians. They are not people. Only the members of my tribe in Wawat and those born within the borders of my adopted country are people.” Ahmose looked nonplussed but Kamose smiled. He knew of the quaint belief held by most primitive tribes that nothing human existed outside the bloodlines of their own communities. But is such a conviction so far removed from the Egyptian suspicion of everyone outside our borders? he mused. Ma’at is our treasure. It belongs nowhere else. Egypt is the blessed land, uniquely favoured by the gods. Once every citizen believed this fervently, but that certainty has dissolved, been diluted in the Setiu’s attempt to corrupt our gods and pervert our way of life. Hor-Aha is right. Egypt must be restored to its former purity. Yet his mind filled with the vision of the woman who had stood at the foot of the ramp and screamed up at him. Would she have understood his answer to her agonized question?
    “Dashlut shook my nerve,” he said to his brother. “But Hor-Aha sees clearly, Ahmose. Why one town and not another? Khemmenu must be razed.”
    “The Princes will not like it,” Ahmose responded.
    “The Princes want to go to war soldier to soldier as our ancestors did,” Kamose said. “That is the honourable way. But such a philosophy can only be held if one’s enemy is as scrupulous as oneself. We do not yet fight a war. At Het-Uart we may, but until then we are disposing of the rats infesting our granaries.” Hor-Aha had begun to plait his hair again. He was smiling and nodding at Kamose’s words and in that moment Ahmose realized that he did not like the General at all.
    In the afternoon Kamose sat under a tree, with Ipi folded beside him, and dictated a letter to his family at Weset, telling them of the events at Dashlut and wishing them well. He was tempted to issue orders to them regarding the care of the estate and the watch on the river but he desisted. They were entirely capable of making those decisions themselves. As he spoke, he watched the barge and the boats swing slowly across the river to the east bank and return, only to repeat the exercise, for Khemmenu had been built to the east and all twenty thousand men had to be ferried from one bank to the other.
    They were still embarking and disembarking when targets were set up on the west bank and he and Ahmose spent several hours with the Princes, practising their archery. There was much laughter and good-natured scoffing. Ankhmahor and Ahmose proved themselves the best shots until several of the Medjay officers who had been watching with barely concealed impatience were invited to join in. Their calm skill easily defeated the Egyptians who conceded with good grace, but Kamose privately wondered if allowing the tribesmen to compete had been a good idea. On the one hand the Princes might now see why they were playing a major role in his plans. On the other their jealousy might intensify. Still, it was better to be jealous than dead. Kamose gave the Medjay archers a cow taken from Dashlut to roast, and an extra issue of beer.
    In the morning the whole host prepared to move on. Kamose was not yet ready to take to the land. He had placed four of the Princes in charge of the four infantry divisions under Hor-Aha, making it clear that his orders would go to the General first and then to them, but Ankhmahor sailed behind Kamose with the Braves of the King. The Medjay, grumbling at the time they still had to spend on the accursed river, manned the boats and the barge.
    Only a little more than four miles lay between Kamose and Khemmenu, and he was tense as the flotilla left its mooring and began to beat its way