‘Once again, I do not need your protection,’ Myssa replied. ‘That is not the woman my father raised.’

  Hannu grunted. ‘Your father raised a fighter, no doubt about that. I can see why your village chose you.’

  ‘You must be on your guard from now on,’ Piay cautioned. ‘Ragan is not a man to accept humiliation lightly. He will want his revenge and he will bide his time until he gets it.’

  ‘I will take care, as I always do,’ Myssa said.

  ‘I’ll also keep watch during the night,’ Hannu said. ‘I can’t understand how Sakir could possibly have found us, but I’m not about to deny it.’

  A grey shape floated along the deck towards them. Piay saw it was the cat again. A dead rat hung from its mouth. The feline dropped the rodent in front of Myssa, then raised its head to peer at her.

  ‘You have a new friend,’ Piay said.

  Myssa scratched the cat’s head and it purred.

  ‘This one can join us on the voyage, I think. There are plenty of rats in the hold to keep his belly full.’

  ‘And what will you call him?’

  Myssa smiled as she held the cat’s stare.

  ‘I will call her Bast.’

  P

  iay’s eyelids opened at first light. Something had woken him. As he stirred, he realised it was the chatter of children on the quayside. He felt puzzled by the excited tones disturbing the quiet of that hour, and he pulled himself up to investigate.

  A small group of boys was gathered on the edge of the quay, pointing at something floating in the canal.

  As he stepped down the gangplank, Piay saw it was a body drifting. He grabbed one of the mooring poles and after a moment’s struggle, hooked the clothes so he could heave the corpse over. Its throat had been cut.

  Kneeling, he peered down at the remains. The flesh was pale and puckered from its time in the water. The eyes were open and staring up to the heavens. One of them had a milky cast.

  When he glanced back, he saw Hanbaal standing by the prow, watching. The slaver still showed an impassive face, but a silent communication crackled between them. Justice had been done.

  Hanbaal, as he had said, was a man who paid his dues.

  B

  y the time the sun was fully above the horizon, the mooring ropes had been thrown off and the oarsmen guided the ship into the canal. Not a moment too soon, Piay thought. It might have been the lingering unease from his encounter with the priests in the temple, but he felt something dark and dangerous was approaching.

  As the heat of the day soared and the rising sun turned the canal into a ribbon of beaten gold, he watched Per-Bast fade into the haze behind them. Fields of wheat and cotton gave way to wilder land, and the date palms swaying in the breeze gradually vanished. The canal was less finished the further away from the city they rowed. In many areas it looked like work had not been carried out for decades. Ridged brown crocodiles basked in the sun on crumbling banks, watching their progress, and beyond them, vast sweeps of wild red lotus choked the edges.

  Ahead, bands of bronze edged the silver sky, the highlands of the Sinai. Piay shielded his eyes against the glare, trying to imagine how Hanbaal planned to get to the Red Sea from the landlocked canal. As far as he knew, there was no waterway that provided access. But every time he asked, the slaver only tapped his nose and laughed.

  The sweep of greenery of the fertile Nile Valley became intermittent smudges across the landscape and then faded completely, leaving only the vast inhospitable desert. The wind whipped up, blasting clouds of dust across the canal.

  They encountered no other vessels as they voyaged east. The land was deserted. They could have been alone in the world, but Piay stood at the rail, searching the banks for any sign of movement.

  ‘Hard to see how Sakir could gain on us,’ Hannu muttered by his side. ‘Unless he is already ahead and waiting.’

  Neither of them expressed their fears to Myssa. Piay thought how much brighter she seemed with each passing day. Whether it was the death of Ragan, her tormentor, or that she was returning home, he did not know.

  ‘Put your mind at rest,’ she soothed as darkness fell and the moon painted a glimmering path along the water. ‘Once you have the elephants under your command, the Hyksos will fall before your army. I believe this to be true.’

  Piay felt touched by her words. After all she had suffered, she had no reason to care about his success. And yet she did care; he could see it in her eyes. She was a mystery to him, and he could feel himself wanting to understand the secrets of her mind more with each passing day.

  O

  n the morning of the third day out of Per-Bast, the ship sailed through a narrow valley between two areas of highland. On the other side a great lake shimmered into the hazy distance where the foothills of the bleak Sinai rose up. The surface was like a polished bronze mirror reflecting the blue sky, the water so still Piay imagined he could walk across it to the far side.

  ‘The Bitter Lakes are as salty as any sea,’ Hanbaal said, looking out towards the south. His restless eyes were always searching for other ships, for enemies or opportunities. ‘We are nearing the end of the first leg of our voyage.’

  W

  ith the crimson sail unfurled, the ship skimmed across the lake to the south. As they neared the edge, Piay scanned the band of ochre rocks and billowing dunes baking in the heat.

  With a frown, he said, ‘I can see no waterway. Where do we go from here?’

  Laughter rippled out among the crew. Hanbaal showed a sly grin.

  ‘You have never seen a ship sail on land?’

  When Piay questioned him further, the slaver only chuckled and moved among his men, shouting commands. A few dropped into the hold and handed up coils of hide ropes. Other sailors dragged them into heaps along the deck.

  Once the sail had been furled, the helmsman and the oarsmen guided the ship towards the lake shore. Piay made out a track leading from the water’s edge between two towering heaps of rocks. The trail plunged straight and true across the desert towards the horizon.

  Piay expected the crew to put down the anchor offshore. Instead, they let the ship drift into the shallows until he felt the grinding of the hull against the bottom. The sailors hurried to lace the hide ropes across the rails on both sides and then threw the ends overboard. The men followed, splashing into the water. Piay leaned over the rail and watched them grab the ends of the ropes and wade up to the beach.

  ‘From here we walk,’ Hanbaal said.

  Piay, Hannu and Myssa dropped into the shallows. Piay stared with bafflement as the sailors wrapped the ends of the hide ropes around themselves. The only man remaining on deck began to beat the ship’s drum in a steady rhythm.

  The sailors heaved as one. The ship moved forwards. The men rested when the drummer paused and then they heaved again. Gradually, the ship emerged from the lake, creeping up the gentle slope towards the track.

  ‘This is madness,’ Piay said. ‘They plan to pull the vessel across the desert to the Red Sea?’

  ‘Wait,’ Myssa said, pointing. ‘Look.’

  Piay followed her direction and glimpsed ridges half-hidden in the sand. As he studied them, he realised they were logs, buried by the drifting dust. The track was a wooden road.

  He stared in amazement as the ship rose from the water on to the track. Step by step, the sailors dragged it on, over the crest between the two towers.

  Hanbaal stepped beside Piay, Hannu and Myssa.

  ‘Every vessel that sails this way is hauled by its men across dry land until water is once again reached. The track was laid long ago. Long before my father’s time and his father’s father, so I am told.’

  ‘I cannot believe my eyes,’ Myssa gushed.

  ‘The work is hard,’ Hanbaal continued, ‘but the distance is short enough to make the effort worthwhile. One day, if the gods are willing, whoever rules Egypt will complete the Canal of the Pharaohs and my voyages between the lands along the Great Green and the coast to the south will become like a dream. For now, this is all we have.’

  ‘How long will it take?’ Piay asked.

  ‘This is the narrowest stretch of land between the Bitter Lakes and the Red Sea. Our trek will take four days. We break only for short periods of sleep and to eat.’ The slaver shielded his eyes, staring across the wasteland. ‘But then we will have open sea ahead of us and a fair wind at our backs. And your destination will be in reach.’

  U

  nder the searing sun, Hanbaal’s men heaved on the ropes and the ship creaked towards the south. Under the cool eye of Khonsu in the desert night, they strained every sinew. The vessel sailed across the dunes, its voyage made a little easier by the logs almost hidden beneath the shifting sands.

  Piay marvelled at the sight. Never would he have thought to see such a thing, and he was sure he would never forget it. The drummer kept the men in time. Hanbaal prowled alongside them, but they were all diligent. They knew what was expected of them and they hauled their burden without complaint.

  And then, on the fourth day, the setting sun illuminated the sea ahead and the sailors cheered and drew on the last of their reserves. The ship slid down into the shallows for the next leg. For Kush, for elephants, for the hope of Egypt.

  P

  iay closed his eyes. The cool breeze wafted across his face, refreshing after so many days enduring the baking heat along the edge of the Sinai. He felt comforted to know the shore of Nubia lay close enough to identify the boats of the fishermen dragged up on the beach. No terror of being adrift in the great gulf here. Dry land was close enough to swim to.

  A moment of peace.

  His thoughts went back to that magical vision of the ship sailing across the dunes while he, Hannu and Myssa walked. The land journey had been gruelling for the men, sweating and straining in the heat of the day and the chill of the night. But they were used to this toil.

  When he opened his eyes, he noticed Myssa at the rail, staring at the streak of ochre land. Bast snaked around her legs, purring.

  ‘You are thinking of your home,’ Piay said when he joined her.

  Myssa nodded, showing no emotion. ‘Kush is there, beyond the horizon.’

  Piay couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be stolen from everything he knew and dragged into servitude. Myssa was not an Egyptian, he knew that, and this was the way of the world. But he’d found this preying on his mind ever since she had unburdened herself about her plight. He’d thought about what he should do, and he’d reached a conclusion. He felt surprised by how much that pained him.

  ‘You’ve been a great help in this quest,’ he began, searching for the right words. ‘We would not be on this path to success if you hadn’t found the answer to the Oracle’s riddle. And let us not forget, we would likely all be a feast for the fish if you had not shown courage during the attack by the pirates.’

  Myssa searched his face.

  ‘I have decided that once you have guided us to the land of the elephants, you will be rewarded.’

  ‘Rewarded?’

  ‘I will grant you your freedom.’

  Myssa glanced back to the shoreline. ‘You will allow me to return home?’

  ‘That is my intention.’

  When she looked at him, tears rimmed her eyes. Piay sensed her urge to throw her arms around him, to thank him, but she resisted. That would not be a seemly display.

  Myssa bit her lip. ‘I have a confession.’

  ‘Speak.’

  ‘I deceived you. All the aid I gave you was merely to get back home. Once we reached Kush, my plan was to flee once we stopped to take on water. Never would I have ventured back on this foul ship if that hope had not burned bright at the end of the voyage.’

  Piay nodded. ‘I understand.’

  ‘You do not feel betrayed?’

  ‘If I was in your position, I would have done the same. My offer still stands.’

  ‘Then let me visit my village first, so they know I yet live. That will give them hope in what will be a dark time. Then I will return to them when you have found your elephants.’

  ‘Very well. I will speak to Hanbaal.’

  Piay turned away, only to find Hannu standing in silence behind him, listening to the conversation.

  ‘What are you doing there like a desert cat stalking its prey?’ Piay snapped.

  Hannu smiled.

  ‘What?’ Piay couldn’t control the crack in his voice.

  ‘Nothing.’

  An odd light glowed in Hannu’s eyes. Piay thought it might have been respect.

  ‘You are an infuriating little man.’

  M

  yssa’s eyes sparkled as she hurried along the road from the small beach where they had drawn up the rowing boat. Piay could see her untrammelled joy in every movement of her body and in the glow in her face.

  ‘Not far now,’ she gushed.

  Myssa’s village lay just inland, which had made it an easy target for Hanbaal’s slavers. Piay couldn’t imagine the terror those people had felt as they went about their daily tasks when a horde of cut-throats and rogues burst into their midst, cutting down any who resisted.

  Many had fled to escape capture, Myssa had said, but she had been too slow, rooted when she saw people she knew and loved hacked down before her eyes.

  ‘Hanbaal was wise to remain on board the ship with his men,’ Hannu grunted as they hurried behind Myssa. ‘I’d wager the village warriors wouldn’t take too kindly to seeing them again.’

  But Piay’s attention was fixed on Myssa. He found her jubilation infectious, and he was overcome with his own joy at seeing her so happy.

  But as Myssa crested a ridge, Piay watched her slow, her limbs growing heavy, until she came to a halt. Her chin sagged on to her chest.

  ‘This does not bode well,’ Hannu breathed.

  Piay strode to Myssa’s side and looked out across the dusty land stretching to a row of low brown hills in the distance. The plain was devoid of life. The bones of a village jabbed up among scrubby yellow grass, but some of the walls of the circular clay-brick huts had collapsed, and here and there the roofs of leaf and mud had fallen in. No smoke from the hearth-fires smeared the blue sky. No children gambolled. No cattle lowed. The only movement was whirls of dust whipped up by the wind.

  Myssa sucked in a juddering breath, then pushed her chin up and trudged down the slope to the ghost of her home. Piay and Hannu followed at a respectful distance.

  As they neared, Piay could see it was clear the village had simply been abandoned. Myssa drifted among the houses, glancing into dark doorways, but everything of value had been taken. She came to a halt at a row of graves on the edge of the settlement and there she stood for a long while with her head bowed.

  When she finally turned back to Piay and Hannu, her face twisted as despair and anger fought inside her.

  ‘This is the consequence of my capture,’ she snarled. ‘Once my people lost the receptacle of their knowledge – once the king lost the guidance of a wise advisor – the sun went down upon them. Hope would have drifted away. I know that, because my teachers impressed on me the absolute importance of my role from the very first day of my lessons.’

  ‘Where could they have gone?’ Hannu asked.

  ‘Perhaps the crops failed. Perhaps the king was killed in a raid . . .’ Myssa’s words dried up. She swallowed. ‘Some have died.’ She nodded towards the graves. ‘All that matters is that my people have gone. I have nothing.’

  Piay felt his heart ache for her. The light that had always seemed to shine out of her had been extinguished.

  ‘You will always have a place with us,’ he murmured. ‘I promise you that.’

  For a while, they stood in the deserted village, listening to the soughing of the wind as Myssa mourned all that she had lost. Then, when she seemed drained of all emotion, she somehow found it within her to push her head up and lead the way back to the ship.

  Piay felt impressed by the dignity he saw there. And while he grieved for her loss, a part of him felt pleased that she would still be at his side.

  O

  ne day later, as they sped along the coast, a cry rang across the deck from the lookout.

  ‘This does not bode well,’ Hannu muttered.

  When Hanbaal stalked towards them his face was like thunder.

  ‘We are being pursued,’ he said. ‘At least that is the only conclusion I can come to.’

  Piay peered astern. ‘More pirates?’

  ‘A squadron of ships – five, perhaps six. The lookout has seen the sails. Big ships. Warships. We would never see their kind. Not along this route.’

  Piay could not yet see those sails, but the lookout’s eyes were used to seeing across great distances.

  ‘Why would a squadron of warships be chasing down a lowly slaver?’ Hanbaal’s stare was piercing. ‘You promised me no trouble.’

  ‘Perhaps a little trouble.’

  ‘The price of this voyage rises by the moment.’ Hanbaal simmered, yet his anger was not as great as Piay expected. Perhaps he could see more gold for his coffers. As Hanbaal walked away, he wagged a finger at Piay. ‘You and I, we need to have words sooner or later.’

  Myssa watched the slaver urging his crew into action with wild gesticulations.

  ‘What if Hanbaal gives us up to save his own neck?’

  ‘Hanbaal would sell his own mother if the price was right,’ Piay replied. ‘That, we knew. We will have to make sure the gold we offer outweighs all other considerations.’

  ‘There will come a time when he weighs tomorrow’s promises against the hard truths of today,’ Hannu noted.

  ‘That is a thought for another day. For now, let us reflect on the fact that the Hyksos have sent a squadron of soldiers just for me.’ Trying to make light, he added, ‘If that is not a mark of my greatness, I can imagine no other.’

  ‘You are a tall man now,’ Hannu grumbled. ‘In a little while you may be wishing you were a far smaller one.’

  P