Wrath of Ra Page 7

  Ramose tried to struggle to his feet, but couldn’t. He crawled up over the rocks that were concealing him, hardly noticing the way they cut into his knees. Hapu looked up, puzzled by his friend’s actions. Ramose tried to stand again but he lost his footing and tumbled down the steep slope, causing a cascade of smaller rocks.

  Karoya looked back over her shoulder at the sound of the clattering rocks. Ramose slid headfirst down the slope and came to a halt halfway down. He wriggled around so that he could see Karoya. She was scanning the rocks, trying to find the cause of the noise, in case it was a threat to her escape. He raised his bound hands trying to attract her attention. Just for a moment, her eyes met Ramose’s. His mouth tried to smile, but the gag wouldn’t let it. Ramose felt elated, despite his cuts and bruises, despite the fact that he was tied up and sprawled upside down on the side of a hill. He knew that she’d seen him. But then Karoya turned and quickly walked away. Without turning back, she scrambled over the rocks on the opposite side of the valley and disappeared from view.

  The Egyptian soldiers had regrouped. Someone had taken command. They were fewer in number, but they were better armed and better trained than the rebels. The rebels’ confidence faded and they ran around without listening to Kashta, who was yelling orders, trying to get them organised. Ramose was hardly aware of the continuing battle though. He stared at the opposite side of the valley, at the blank wall of rock where Karoya had disappeared. Why hadn’t she come to help him? She hadn’t even smiled when she’d seen him.

  Ramose felt like he was in a dream. The shouts and yells from the battle below sounded distant and unreal. There was something strange about the light. The green of the few tufts of grass was deeper, the colour of the sandy earth richer, the way it was when the sun was getting low in the sky. Except that it wasn’t even midday.

  Hapu had managed to cut through the rope tying his hands. He quickly undid his feet and pulled the gag from his mouth. He scrambled down to Ramose and dragged him back to safety.

  “Are you all right?” he asked as he untied Ramose’s feet.

  Ramose nodded, though in fact his neck was hurting from being twisted in the fall. He moved his head from side to side, back and forward. Then he noticed the sun.

  “Look. Look at the sun,” he said. “There’s a piece missing.”

  Hapu looked up. Both boys stared in fear and confusion. It was as if someone had taken a sharp blade and cut a slice off the sun. A dark sliver had taken its place.

  Ramose shielded his eyes. As he watched, the missing piece grew bigger.

  “Something’s eating it,” said Hapu, his voice quavering. “It’s Apophis. Apophis is defeating Ra.”

  “That can’t be,” said Ramose. “It’s day. Ra’s daytime journey across the heavens is never challenged. It’s at night that he has to fight the serpent-god Apophis. And Ra always defeats him. Always.”

  “Apophis must have tricked Ra,” said Hapu. “He’s attacked him during the day. And he’s beating him.”

  Ramose shook his head. He had a terrible feeling. Ra wasn’t being defeated, surely that could never happen. Ra was angry. A quarter of the sun had now been replaced with blackness and the light was dimming. Others had noticed now. There were cries of surprise and fear echoing around the valley. From somewhere in the distance came the howling of a hyena. Rebels and Egyptians alike stopped fighting and fell to their knees bowing their heads to the earth in terrified prayer. The recently freed slaves panicked, their new-found bravery disappearing as they tried to find somewhere to hide from this awful event. There was nowhere to hide though. Only half the sun was left.

  “Ra is deserting us,” said Ramose, his voice trembling. “He’s going to leave us in eternal darkness.”

  Ramose was certain now that Ra was angry—angry with Egypt, but especially angry with him. He had ignored his duty to Ra’s land. He had wandered around the world outside Egypt, doing what he pleased. Only a slice of the sun remained. He should have noticed the signs before. First, there had been the defeat of Egypt’s powerful armies on three fronts, even though Egypt had more men and better arms. Then the inundation had been too great, destroying villages and farmland, drowning soldiers, almost taking his own life. Now this. A terrible black disc surrounded by an eerie halo of yellow had taken the place of the sun. The birds suddenly stopped calling. The howling of the hyena trailed off. The Egyptians and rebels all fell silent. Ramose shivered. It was as dark as night.

  “It’s the end of the world,” whispered Hapu.

  He was right. Crops wouldn’t grow without sunlight. The people of Egypt would stumble around in darkness for a while and then they would die of hunger.

  Ramose closed his eyes and started to pray.

  “Praise to thee, Ra,” he murmured. “Most glorious of gods, who is beautiful at morning and evening. Lord of Eternity, Creator of Everlastingness, do not abandon us. Shine your beams of light upon our faces. Flood the world with your light.”

  Ramose fell to his knees and repeated the prayer over and over again. He promised offerings. He vowed that if the sun-god returned to the sky, he would never think about his own desires again. He would do his duty and serve Pharaoh and Egypt as he should.

  “Look,” shouted Hapu. “Ra is returning to us.”

  Ramose opened his eyes and looked up at the dark sky. A splinter of light had appeared at the edge of the terrible black disc. His prayers were working.

  As they watched, the slice of brightness grew. The darkness was fading. The birds started calling again. In a few minutes, the black part of the disc was smaller than the golden piece. Ra was not abandoning them. Others looked up and shouted praise to Ra as the last trace of black disappeared.

  “Ra lives,” shouted Hapu, tears running down his face. “The blazing one strides across the heavens again.”

  Egyptians, rebels and slaves cheered and shouted. Ramose felt a wave of relief as the sunlight warmed his skin. The rebels were the first to remember the conflict. They had been losing the battle. While the Egyptians were still on their knees in prayer, the rebels started to retreat. Ramose’s happiness suddenly went cold. He turned to Hapu.

  “I saw Karoya,” he said, trying to pull the cords from his hands. “She was one of the slaves. We have to find her.”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” said Kashta who had come up behind them with the rest of the rebels and some of the freed slaves. Two of the rebels had been wounded and were being supported by their friends.

  “But…” Ramose was about to tell Kashta he had seen Karoya, but changed his mind. He didn’t understand why she had walked away from the mine, but at least she hadn’t joined Kashta’s band of rebels.

  Kashta looked back at the valley. The Egyptians were getting up and looking around, realising that their attackers had slipped away. The rebel leader grabbed Ramose and pulled him along with him as he ran from the valley.

  “Don’t think you can get away, Prince.” Kashta was trying to sound as confident as ever, but Ramose could tell that the appearance of the black disc in the sky had shaken him. The people of Kush worshipped the sun the same as Egyptians, even though they had a different name for it.

  The rebels retraced their steps, hurrying back towards the safety of their hidden camp.

  “We can slow down now,” Kashta said when he was sure that the Egyptians weren’t following them. “Your countrymen are more interested in holding on to their gold than catching us.”

  The rebels talked in low voices to each other in their own language. No doubt they were trying to make sense of what had just happened. Once they were safely away from the mine, they began singing and chanting as they walked. It was hard to believe that this ragged group of boys had come close to defeating the Egyptian soldiers.

  “I don’t know what you’re happy about,” said Ramose. “You lost the battle.”

  “Perhaps, but we freed the slaves and many of them joined us,” replied Kashta. “Only two rebels were wounded.”

  “I
t was hardly a victory, you had to run away. And you only got away safely because the sun disappeared.”

  “I have seen the strength of our enemy,” replied Kashta. “I know what we’re up against. The only way we can free Kush from the chains of Egypt is by many small victories like today’s. The Sons of Kush will triumph eventually.”

  It sounded like a well-rehearsed speech that Kashta had delivered many times before. Nevertheless, Ramose was beginning to think that the rebels could eventually wear down the might of Egypt, like a dog worrying at the legs of a leopard.

  Kashta called out to the other rebels. They leapt in the air cheering and ran ahead dragging Hapu with them.

  “What did you say to them?” asked Ramose.

  “I told them that we are going to do some hunting on the way back to the fort, so that we can celebrate our success with a feast.”

  The rebels left the narrow track in the bare hills and headed down to the plain. The flat land stretched out as far as they could see to the east. The plain was covered in dry, spiky grass. This dull expanse was occasionally broken by a spindly acacia tree, its branches almost bare of leaves, or a small clump of tangled tamarisks. Kashta and Ramose were the last to reach the plain. The other rebels were ahead. A pair of gazelle suddenly leapt up out of the swaying grass. The rebels set off after them with a whoop, pulling Hapu along with them.

  “Tell me what happened to Karoya,” Ramose asked.

  Kashta shook his head. “I don’t have to tell you anything, Prince.”

  He stopped to break a branch from an acacia.

  “I just want to know what she’s doing,” said Ramose, “that she’s safe.”

  “She has chosen her own road to follow,” Kashta replied, using the branch to beat a path through the long grass.

  Ramose didn’t like the grassland. The grass was up to their knees. Ramose preferred to be able to see where he was putting his feet. Kashta laughed at the timid way Ramose stepped through the long grass.

  “There could be snakes hiding in the grass,” he said, parting the grass cautiously. “Or leopards or hyenas.”

  Kashta laughed again, beating the grass aside as if it hid nothing more dangerous than field mice.

  “You expect Karoya to be loyal to you, but she won’t,” said Kashta. “No matter how friendly you were to her, she was still Egypt’s slave.”

  “But she had an important position in Sai,” replied Ramose.

  “She had to make sure that her own people obeyed the laws of an oppressor. It wasn’t something she enjoyed doing.”

  “How do you know?” asked Ramose hotly, resenting the rebel’s knowledge of his friend.

  “She told me. Her first loyalty will always be to Kush.”

  “I don’t believe you. She said she liked her job.”

  “Why would she tell you what is in her heart?”

  Ramose remembered the cold look he had seen in Karoya’s eyes not long before. He was starting to wonder if he had ever known her true feelings.

  The rebels guarding Hapu were out of sight in front of them. Kashta absently hit out with his stick at the grass stalks, which were now almost up to their waists. Something whipped up out of the grass, so quick it was impossible to see what it was until it stopped just as suddenly.

  It was a cobra as thick as the top of Ramose’s arm and striped with broad bands of yellow and black. It reared up, its spotted hood opening out on either side of its head, its yellow eyes level with Kashta’s face, staring right at him. Kashta stood frozen. The snake’s tongue flickered. Its venom-filled teeth glistened. Kashta still didn’t move. Ramose didn’t know a lot about snakes, but he knew that this one was angry and ready to strike. He remembered snake charmers who had been brought to the palace as entertainment.

  “Move your stick from side to side,” he whispered.

  Kashta didn’t respond. He was staring into the snake’s terrible eyes, mesmerised.

  “Do as I say, Kashta.”

  Kashta held up his stick with shaking hands and moved it slowly from side to side. The movement attracted the snake’s attention. The hooded head of the snake swayed with the motion of the stick. In one swift motion Ramose pulled Kashta’s knife from his belt, took a firm grip and swung the blade in an arc. The blade dug into the snake at the back of its head. The force of his blow knocked the snake to the ground. The knife went right through the snake and pinned it to the earth. The snake writhed and twisted. It was at least six cubits long. Ramose felt its scaly tail whip the back of his hand. Its strength surprised him. He almost thought it would pull the knife from the earth, but it was the snake’s death spasms. The writhing slowed until the snake lay dead.

  Kashta was still stunned. His eyes were wide. They had just stared death in the face. All traces of his bravado disappeared. Ramose pulled out the knife. The snake lay lifeless. Ramose got to his feet, the knife still in his hand. Kashta made no attempt to wrest the weapon from him. Ramose wiped the knife on the grass and held it out grip first to Kashta.

  “Come on,” he said. “We better catch up with the others.”

  Kashta moved at last. Slowly, he took the knife from Ramose. Ramose picked up the dead snake. The two boys walked slowly back towards the hills.

  “You could have escaped,” Kashta said.

  “I’d just get lost if I wandered off into this strange land,” he said. “And anyway, I wouldn’t go without Hapu. There’ll be another time to escape. When my sister doesn’t respond to the letter you sent, you’ll get sick of feeding us.”

  The two boys climbed the rocky slopes. After a while they could see the other rebels ahead of them. They were carrying a dead gazelle, singing and chanting noisily.

  When they caught up, the rebels chattered excitedly. Ramose couldn’t understand what they were saying, but he got the idea that they thought their catch was a lot more impressive than their leader’s.

  Kashta looked at the snake and shrugged. He didn’t explain how the snake had come to be killed.

  That evening the rebels celebrated long into the night. They roasted the gazelle on a spit and Kashta allowed them to take some beer, stolen from Egyptians, from their store. The rebels danced and chanted as if they had defeated the entire Egyptian army.

  Ramose watched the boys dancing after Hapu had gone to bed. Their faces were deep in concentration as they stamped and twirled, raising clouds of dust. Kashta was skinning the snake.

  “You think the dancing is strange, don’t you?” Kashta asked.

  “In Egypt, dancing is something that only women do. Men would never dream of dancing.”

  “Do your women dance like this?” he asked, indicating the stomping rebels.

  “No,” said Ramose, smiling at the thought of the delicate palace dancers thumping around the western hall. “They dance lightly and slowly. It’s an entertainment.”

  Kashta jumped up. “Come and dance with us,” he said as he joined the dancers.

  Ramose shook his head.

  “Come on, Prince,” said Kashta. “No one will see you but us.”

  Ramose got to his feet and walked over to the fire. Kashta pulled him into the circle of dancers. Ramose clumsily tried to copy the rebels’ movements.

  “Move your feet, Ramose,” Kashta said as he whirled around. “Feel the music. Tonight we are dancing to celebrate success. At other times it can help release pain and frustration.”

  Ramose started to move with the circle of rebels. Slowly at first he moved with the rhythm of the drums. He stamped his feet in the dust. He felt his anger at being held prisoner and he danced faster. He remembered Karoya’s blank face as she’d looked at him. He stamped harder. He twisted and turned around the fire. Then he remembered how he’d killed the snake. He remembered his realisation, his duty to Egypt and his brother. He spread out his arms, closed his eyes and turned, letting the sound of the rebels’ chanting fill his head. He wouldn’t give up. He’d have to wait for his chance, get away from the rebels and return to Egypt. He twirled faster
and faster. He could do it. He opened his eyes and the fort was spinning around him. He fell into the dust. The rebels laughed. Ramose laughed too.

  Kashta helped Ramose to his feet. The two boys moved away from the dancers and sat down panting, their bodies wet with sweat despite the cold night air. They watched the dancers in silence until their breathing slowed. Kashta took the medallion from around his neck and handed it to Ramose.

  “You saved my life today,” Kashta said.

  “I was as concerned about my life as yours,” replied Ramose, fingering the cobra design on his medallion.

  “Why didn’t you let the snake kill me? I’m your enemy.”

  Ramose shrugged. “I don’t think of people in terms of allies and enemies. I’ve made mistakes doing that before. Some of my best friends were originally people who I was sure were my enemies.” Ramose stared into the fire. He had a sudden vision of his sister when she was younger and they still played together. “The dearest person to me turned out to be the one who wished me most ill.” The image of the smiling young girl was replaced by the woman with the cold eyes who never smiled.

  The dancers finally stopped and drifted off to their huts to sleep. The flames died down.

  “Karoya escaped from me at Semna,” said Kashta suddenly. “I’d spent weeks trying to win her over to our cause, but she refused. I tied her up every night to stop her escaping, but she somehow managed to cut herself free.”

  “I saw her today,” said Ramose. “She was one of the slaves at the mine.”

  Kashta turned to Ramose, surprised.

  “I didn’t see her,” he said.

  “Her hair was cut short. I didn’t recognise her at first. She escaped during the fight.”

  “She told me she didn’t want to take sides,” said Kashta. “All she wanted was to return to the desert.”

  “She saw me,” said Ramose.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” replied Ramose sadly. “She looked right into my eyes and then she turned and walked away.”