had an intelligent face and who seemed not yet to have succumbed to despair.
‘Take that one into the next chamber,’ I ordered Dilbar, and he grabbed the Egyptian and dragged him into the antechamber of the fort. There I told him to leave us. When he had gone, I stared at the slave in silence for a while. His attitude was one of resignation but I saw the defiance in his eyes that he was trying to conceal.
Good! I thought. He is still a man.
At last I spoke to him softly in our own sweet language. ‘You are an Egyptian.’ He started and I saw he had understood me. ‘What regiment?’ I asked him but he shrugged, feigning incomprehension. He looked down at his own feet.
‘Look at me!’ I ordered him and I removed my bronze helmet and unwound the silken cloth that covered the lower half of my face. ‘Look at me!’ I repeated.
He lifted his head and started with surprise.
‘Who am I?’ I asked.
‘You are Taita. I saw you at Luxor in the Temple of Hathor when I was a child. My father told me you were one of the greatest living Egyptians,’ he whispered in awe, and then he threw himself at my feet. I was moved by this show of veneration, but I kept my voice stern.
‘Yes, soldier. I am Taita. Who are you?’
‘I am Rohim of the Twenty-sixth Charioteers. I was captured by the Hyksos swine five years ago.’
‘Will you return with me to our very Egypt?’ I asked, and he smiled. There was a tooth missing in his upper jaw, and his face was bruised. He had been beaten but he was still an Egyptian warrior and his reply was firm.
‘I am your man to the death!’
‘Where did the Cretans store the chests that they forced you to unload from the ship yesterday?’
‘In the strong room at the bottom of the stairwell, but the door is locked.’
‘Who has the key?’
‘The fat one with the green sash. He is the master of slaves.’
I had seen the man he described kneeling with the other prisoners. ‘Does he also have the key to your chains, Rohim? You will need them, for you are a free man again.’ He grinned at the thought.
‘He keeps all the keys on a chain around his waist. He hides them under his sash.’
I learned from Rohim that over eighty of the slaves in the fort were captured Egyptian archers and charioteers. When we unchained them they worked with gusto to carry the silver chests back from the fort and stack them in the hold of Zaras’ trireme.
While this transfer of silver chests was taking place Rohim led me to the armoury. When we broke open the door, I was delighted to see the array of uniforms, armour and weapons that were stored there.
I ordered all this equipment to be taken to the ships and packed in the main rowing deck where it could be easily reached when we needed it.
Finally we locked all the captured Cretans into their own slave barracks, and we boarded the three waiting triremes.
I had divided our available men equally between the three ships, so all the rowing benches carried their full complements. At my orders the slaves still chained in the lower decks had been given a meal of hard bread, dried fish and beer that we had found in the store-rooms of the fort. It was pathetic to watch them cramming the food into their mouths with calloused hands blackened with filth and their own dried excrement. They gulped down the beer we gave them until their shrunken bellies could hold no more. Some of them vomited it back into the bilges between their bare feet. But the food and friendly treatment had revived them. I knew they would serve me well.
As the dawn was glimmering in the eastern sky we were ready to sail. I took my place in the bows of the leading trireme beside Zaras with the Hyksos helmet crammed down on my head and my nose and mouth covered with the silken scarf.
Zaras called the order to cast off, and the drum on each rowing deck sounded the stroke. The long oars dipped and pulled and rose again to the tempo of the drums. I passed the order to the men on the
‘Take that one into the next chamber,’ I ordered Dilbar, and he grabbed the Egyptian and dragged him into the antechamber of the fort. There I told him to leave us. When he had gone, I stared at the slave in silence for a while. His attitude was one of resignation but I saw the defiance in his eyes that he was trying to conceal.
Good! I thought. He is still a man.
At last I spoke to him softly in our own sweet language. ‘You are an Egyptian.’ He started and I saw he had understood me. ‘What regiment?’ I asked him but he shrugged, feigning incomprehension. He looked down at his own feet.
‘Look at me!’ I ordered him and I removed my bronze helmet and unwound the silken cloth that covered the lower half of my face. ‘Look at me!’ I repeated.
He lifted his head and started with surprise.
‘Who am I?’ I asked.
‘You are Taita. I saw you at Luxor in the Temple of Hathor when I was a child. My father told me you were one of the greatest living Egyptians,’ he whispered in awe, and then he threw himself at my feet. I was moved by this show of veneration, but I kept my voice stern.
‘Yes, soldier. I am Taita. Who are you?’
‘I am Rohim of the Twenty-sixth Charioteers. I was captured by the Hyksos swine five years ago.’
‘Will you return with me to our very Egypt?’ I asked, and he smiled. There was a tooth missing in his upper jaw, and his face was bruised. He had been beaten but he was still an Egyptian warrior and his reply was firm.
‘I am your man to the death!’
‘Where did the Cretans store the chests that they forced you to unload from the ship yesterday?’
‘In the strong room at the bottom of the stairwell, but the door is locked.’
‘Who has the key?’
‘The fat one with the green sash. He is the master of slaves.’
I had seen the man he described kneeling with the other prisoners. ‘Does he also have the key to your chains, Rohim? You will need them, for you are a free man again.’ He grinned at the thought.
‘He keeps all the keys on a chain around his waist. He hides them under his sash.’
I learned from Rohim that over eighty of the slaves in the fort were captured Egyptian archers and charioteers. When we unchained them they worked with gusto to carry the silver chests back from the fort and stack them in the hold of Zaras’ trireme.
While this transfer of silver chests was taking place Rohim led me to the armoury. When we broke open the door, I was delighted to see the array of uniforms, armour and weapons that were stored there.
I ordered all this equipment to be taken to the ships and packed in the main rowing deck where it could be easily reached when we needed it.
Finally we locked all the captured Cretans into their own slave barracks, and we boarded the three waiting triremes.
I had divided our available men equally between the three ships, so all the rowing benches carried their full complements. At my orders the slaves still chained in the lower decks had been given a meal of hard bread, dried fish and beer that we had found in the store-rooms of the fort. It was pathetic to watch them cramming the food into their mouths with calloused hands blackened with filth and their own dried excrement. They gulped down the beer we gave them until their shrunken bellies could hold no more. Some of them vomited it back into the bilges between their bare feet. But the food and friendly treatment had revived them. I knew they would serve me well.
As the dawn was glimmering in the eastern sky we were ready to sail. I took my place in the bows of the leading trireme beside Zaras with the Hyksos helmet crammed down on my head and my nose and mouth covered with the silken scarf.
Zaras called the order to cast off, and the drum on each rowing deck sounded the stroke. The long oars dipped and pulled and rose again to the tempo of the drums. I passed the order to the men on the
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