As soon as the Shuyet’s flagship had fully crossed the threshold between the two lines of Memphis vessels, the archers, who had been lying on their bellies on the decks of the galleys, jumped to their feet with their bows in their hands, arrows nocked, strings pulled back.

  ‘Loose!’ the officers on both sides of the river commanded, almost in unison, and in the blink of an eye, the first volley was in the air. Even as the arrows whistled down – thudding into skulls and shoulders and chests – the archers were slotting another arrow into place and drawing back their strings.

  ‘Why do you think the Shuyet’s sailors have still not altered course?’ Gyasi asked.

  ‘I do not yet know,’ Taita replied. The screams that echoed out across the water were terrible to hear.

  ‘Perhaps they have no strategy beyond that of overwhelming force,’ Sadiki whispered hopefully. ‘Like the Hyksos, whose galleys they sail.’

  As Taita watched, the sailor manning the flagship’s tiller was struck in the neck and toppled backwards from the deck, crashing into the river. As the pole turned on its own, the vessel began to drift, turning sideways in the current.

  A cheer swept across the Breath of Horus, and Taita had to admit to himself that his plan had gone better than he could have hoped. Now they only had to sink the flagship, and draw the remainder of the Shuyet’s navy into running the same gauntlet that had so easily disabled it.

  As the archers prepared for a third volley, the surviving sailors on the flagship seemed to come to their senses. They dragged shields out from under the rowing benches and sheltered beneath them. Some of the plummeting shafts embedded themselves in the thick, sun-hardened leather, but many simply skidded away harmlessly.

  ‘They won’t be able to strike back if they’re hiding,’ Asim said. ‘Perhaps this forewarns of some new strategy.’

  As if to answer him, a warrior jumped up from under the cover of his shield and whirled a slingshot around his head, loosing a jagged chunk of rock. The projectile smashed into the face of one of the archers on the starboard galley, killing him instantly.

  But when the man jumped up again, the archers were ready, and a score of shafts thundered towards him. His missile flew away wildly as he lurched back to the deck.

  As the Shuyet’s flagship continued to drift under full sail, arrows rained down on the soldiers still cowering on deck. Behind it, Taita could see the rest of the Shuyet’s fleet. Their sails billowed in the wind coming from the Great Green, and the rising sun made the white cloth glow. But as he studied the vessels, Taita could see they were a motley group. The hulls were badly patched, the rails broken here and there, figureheads shattered and masts leaning. The Shuyet might have superior numbers, but they had the better ships.

  ‘The time has arrived,’ Taita announced, turning to the three contestants. ‘I have not been entirely transparent with you. When I said you would lead men in boarding vessels, I meant it. What I held back from you is that one of you must do so pretending to be me. You must board the flagship and ensure that it ends up on the bottom of the river.’

  All three contestants blanched with trepidation as one of the galleys that had been idling in reserve pulled up alongside the Breath of Horus.

  ‘One of you must show your valour,’ Taita continued, gesturing to the galley, ‘and take on this crucial task. We have not a single moment to waste.’

  At his beckoning, several slaves hurried over, with shears, a razor and makeup. Taita himself began peeling off his white robe, while a slave waited with a black one to replace it. ‘Which of you will do it? Who possesses the courage?’

  Gyasi, Asim and Sadiki each looked to one another, and then back at Taita, as if searching for the answer. Finally, Gyasi reached up and pulled away the band that held her hair, allowing it to fall free in the cool Nile breeze. ‘Cut off my hair,’ she said, waving for the slave with the shears to approach. ‘I will do it.’

  Taita smiled and nodded. ‘I had hoped it would be you.’

  ‘You have demonstrated great courage and selflessness. You have dedicated your life to Egypt,’ Gyasi said to Taita as her thick, black hair began to fall around her shoulders, then down to her feet. ‘Any who would aspire to become vizier for Lower Egypt should not expect to show any less.’

  Taita nodded again. ‘You have spoken wisely. Should I survive this battle, I will ensure that Pharaoh hears your name, and all of Egypt knows of your bravery.’

  Asim and Sadiki both seemed to grasp that something profound was unfolding before them, and that the contest was perhaps no longer a contest at all. They bowed their heads respectfully as Gyasi’s head was shaved bald, and Taita’s green malachite makeup applied to her eyelids. Then they looked away as the slaves unbuckled her cuirass and she slipped out of her own robe. As she stood naked in the morning sun, the slaves quickly rubbed moringa and almond oil into her skin, making it shine like burnished gold. Finally, they tugged Taita’s white robe over her head, and when Asim and Sadiki looked back to behold her in her disguise, they sensed something more: a woman transformed.

  Indeed, even Taita was amazed at how much she looked like him. A little shorter, true, but it was a resemblance strong enough to sow doubt in the minds of any who had not seen them side by side.

  A gangplank was extended between the Breath of Horus and the galley which would bear Gyasi to the enemy vessel. Taita watched her carefully, but she crossed the deck without hesitation; if she felt any fear, it was well hidden.

  As Gyasi stepped onto the gangplank and readied herself to walk across, she looked back and smiled. ‘For Taita!’ she said. ‘And for Egypt!’

  Taita smiled as he watched her cross over to the waiting ship, where the boarding party raised their swords in triumphant salute. ‘Lord Taita!’

  As the galley’s oarsmen began to propel the ship away from the Breath of Horus and towards the Shuyet’s flagship, Sadiki stepped back from the rail, pointing. ‘Lord Taita, look there!’

  A commotion had erupted in the papyrus beds on the other side of the river. Taita would have thought it was another disturbed hippopotamus if not for a lookout’s shout of alarm – the same upheaval was happening in the reeds ahead of them.

  Dozen of skiffs appeared from the swaying beds, each one propelled by a man standing aft with a long pole. Once they were in open water, oars were snatched up.

  ‘Archers!’ Taita called as the boats swept towards the Breath of Horus. ‘Archers! To me!’

  Though they were small, the skiffs were crammed with men crouching low. Together they pushed themselves up, revealing they were bowmen.

  Now Taita understood why the flagship’s captain had not altered his course. The Shuyet had been luring the Memphis fleet into his own trap, keeping their attention focused elsewhere while his men massed in the reeds and boarded their skiffs.

  Taita saw what was about to happen in an instant. Animated, he commanded: ‘Sound the alarm! Alert our ships!’

  The trumpeter on the poop-deck blasted a long, jarring note of warning, as the archers reached the rail of the Breath of Horus and began to loose shaft after shaft towards the skiffs, but it was already too late. In each skiff, sparks showered from fire-strikers as men lit the tips of each arrow. Black smoke rolled out low over the river and the air was immediately full of the stink of burning pitch.

  As bewildered sailors leaned over the sides of the Memphis galleys, trying to grasp the reason for the trumpet blast of warning, arrows pounded into the oil-soaked wood of the hulls and the furled masses of the sails. Terrified cries were heard – for the fear of fire on board a ship haunted all sailors – as flames rippled across the sailcloth and raged along the hulls.

  In the blink of an eye, the conflagrations on three of the vessels became too great to withstand, and sailors and archers alike abandoned their ships, throwing themselves over the sides.

  More movement came from the dark green depths of the papyrus that lined the shore on each bank. From where they had been hiding, more of the Shuyet’s men rose and began to shoot the men in the water.

  ‘The Shuyet knew what we would be planning before we’d even considered it ourselves,’ Sadiki muttered in horror.

  Sickened, Taita turned away from the slaughter. However they attempted to outmanoeuvre the Shuyet, he was always one step ahead of them. Had he been too arrogant? Taita had long known there was no one in Egypt who could match his sharp wits, but he had been remiss in thinking that this would always be the case.

  ‘Two galleys down already,’ Asim muttered, ‘and the third . . .’

  His voice trailed off as he saw Taita turn his attention to the rest of the Shuyet’s navy. They had been hanging back, but now, as they saw the flames take hold of the Memphis galleys, they surged forward under full sail. As they approached, Taita could see that the ships had all been fitted with bronze ramming horns.

  Taita turned back to look at the Shuyet’s flagship. A new man was now at the steering pole of the vessel and had steadied the craft, but that had only made it easier for Gyasi to lead the boarding party onto the deck of the ship – the clang of swords meeting each other rang out, sharp and clear across the water.

  With the rest of the Shuyet’s navy bearing down on him, the captain of the Memphis ship commanded his men to cut the ropes that bound them to the Shuyet’s flagship, but it was already too late. As the sailors hacked hurriedly at the ties and the ship began to turn, the bronze battering ram of the lead vessel slammed into the boarding galley amidships. The timber cracked like thunder as it shattered, and the crew flew from their feet. A fatal blow had been struck, Taita knew. The ship was sagging, planks snapping as the hull began to come apart, the ramming ship pushing it ever on.

  Men plunged from the sides of the beleaguered boarding galley into the cool depths, only to be met by more arrows when they surfaced. The grey water was now ruddy with the reflected light from the burning ships, and Taita could also see dark clouds of blood forming around the floating bodies. An instant later, the water began to roil around the corpses. The gore had attracted the river crocodiles.

  ‘Where is Gyasi?’ Asim asked, his voice grim.

  Taita looked again towards the Shuyet’s flagship, but as he scanned the bitter fighting that raged across its decks, he could see no sign of his white robe, nor of the woman who wore it. He watched in dismay as, deprived of reinforcements, the boarding party’s strength waned against the superior numbers they faced on the flagship’s deck. One by one, they were cut down, as the Shuyet’s navy bore down on the remaining Memphis galleys.

  ‘We must flee! Now!’ Taita glanced round to see Sadiki cowering in terror. He fell to his knees and pressed his forehead to the deck in silent prayer.

  ‘I agree with Sadiki,’ Asim said. ‘Any man can see there is no hope for us in this fight. We can only run.’

  ‘What do you suggest?’ Taita asked, although he had already decided on the necessary action. His question was almost lost beneath the roar of the fire from the burning ships and the screams of the men dying in the river.

  ‘We must pull back. Perhaps we can retreat to Memphis for a final stand.’

  ‘And you?’ Taita directed his question at Sadiki, still huddled on the deck. ‘What would you do?’

  ‘I would ask your leave to depart, and renounce my place in this contest, as Shubba did,’ Sadiki replied, lifting his tear-streaked face. ‘I have no desire to end up as Gyasi has.’

  ‘Do not fear the worst just yet,’ Taita said. ‘I believe that if we retreat now, the Shuyet’s galleys will permit our escape. You can forget your fears of capture.’

  ‘Why would they not press their advantage?’ Sadiki asked.

  ‘They have won the battle here,’ Taita replied, ‘and have little fear of our remaining strength. But more than that, they have Gyasi. And, for now, they believe she is Pharaoh’s Lord High Chancellor. They will want to make sure she reaches the Shuyet safely.’

  A trumpet blast rang out across the water, as if to confirm Taita’s assertion. Sadiki’s eyes widened with realisation. ‘Did you know this would happen, when you sent Gyasi aboard the flagship?’

  Taita smiles. ‘Not for certain. But I hoped.’

  ‘So, she was sacrificed,’ Asim muttered grimly. ‘She is the false currency with which you have bought our escape.’

  Taita gazed inscrutably back at his two remaining contestants. ‘I have done what was necessary,’ he asserted guiltlessly, ‘to safeguard the great land that I have been tasked by the gods to protect.’ He then bellowed out an order to Bek: ‘Captain, give the signal to retreat! All those who can. We will sail south and regroup!’

  • • •

  T

  he moonlight shimmered across the black waters of the Nile. On the poop-deck of the Breath of Horus, Taita stood motionless and silent, thinking of old friends and old loves, and how death could strike in an instant.

  The Shuyet’s vessels had not pursued them, as Taita had predicted. Bek had unfurled the sails as soon as they had turned south, and they had taken the wind instantly, driving them upriver – the Breath of Horus leading the retreat.

  Having put distance between them and the enemy armada, Taita had given the order to anchor.

  Taita drew in the scent of the cooling river, listening to the reed beds whispering, and the creaking of the lines that held the five galleys of the Memphis flotilla that had survived the river battle.

  If he had been back at Pharaoh’s palace in Thebes, the slaves would have been preparing him for his bath – a time of peace and reflection.

  But now Taita could only think of war.

  From the moment that the vessels had anchored in this sheltered spot, he had been turning over tactics in his mind. Now, he knew what he had to do. He had to make another sacrifice, to save the dream of Egypt.

  Turning, Taita looked out to where a constellation of fires burned in the dark. The army was camped alongside what remained of the Memphis navy. A good number of the new recruits to the Memphis Guard had survived the day’s defeat, and he knew that the Blue Crocodiles would make sure that they were ready for what was to come. Piay’s bravery and Hannu’s last-moment command to retreat had saved the army from a rout, or so the men had told him when Taita had walked amongst them. But of the two friends, there was still no sign.

  At the creak of a board, Taita glanced back to the deck of the Breath of Horus. Beyond the benches where the oarsmen slept, a commanding figure strode towards the stern. Before the moon lit his face, Taita would have sworn it was Tanus, striding forth in the flesh once more.

  Taita smiled as Piay pulled himself up the ladder to the poop-deck. ‘Where is Hannu?’ he asked.

  Piay grinned. ‘Not dead yet. He demanded beer as soon as we saw the campfires, and went off in search of it. I expect he will join us here soon.’

  ‘I am glad to hear it.’ Taita smiled.

  ‘And your three shadows? What of the contestants?’

  ‘Asim and Sadiki have returned to Memphis. Their courage had given out.’

  ‘And Gyasi?’

  ‘She is the Shuyet’s prisoner?’

  ‘But how?’

  Taita smiled again. ‘I asked one of them to board the Shuyet’s flagship, dressed in my clothing, and wearing my makeup. It was the final test.’

  Piay’s eyes widened in amazement. ‘And it was the woman who volunteered?’

  ‘The woman,’ Taita confirmed, his eyes glittering in the dark.

  ‘Now, everything depends on what we do next,’ Piay said as he absorbed his master’s words.

  Taita’s smile faded. ‘I understand sacrifice more than most. I feel the loss of each one of those men who bravely gave their lives today, so Memphis may remain free. But the threat remains. There is still too much at stake for us to sit idle. We must strike the Shuyet’s force when he does not expect it.’

  ‘Then you mean to do it tonight?’ Piay asked.

  Taita trailed his fingers along the oiled cedar wood of the rail as if he was caressing a lover’s skin – and in a way, he was, for in his mind the Breath of Horus had come to represent Lostris. And now he would once again offer her up to the gods. But for the first time he felt that he was finally coming close to knowing the Shuyet’s mind, drawing near to an understanding of the game they were playing. It was time to make the decisive move.

  ‘I will send the Breath of Horus into the heart of the Shuyet’s fleet, to destroy, and be destroyed.’

  Taita could tell by the way Piay’s forehead wrinkled that the nomarch grasped just how difficult this sacrifice was for him.

  ‘The Shuyet will not expect an attack at night,’ Taita said. ‘Indeed, some would say that only a fool would risk the river’s currents in the dark.’

  ‘If I am a fool, then let me be a lucky one,’ Piay replied with alacrity, turning his face to the moon above. ‘Khonsu watches over us tonight. I like our chances.’

  • • •

  A

  s Piay paced between the campfires and tents of the choked camp, he heard whispered prayers for survival turn to murmurs of hope – the sight of the nomarch, alive, immediately raised the spirits of his soldiers.

  He heard Hannu before he saw him. The old soldier was holding forth, surrounded by a group of new recruits, a jug of beer on the table in front of him. Piay chuckled to himself as he circled around behind his friend.

  ‘They had the numbers, but it seems they had no wits,’ Hannu said as Piay joined the men who stood behind the general, listening to his story. ‘One thought I was easy prey, being shorter, and with a leg that doesn’t do what it should. So he came at me alone.’

  ‘Ah,’ Piay said. ‘That would be like approaching a cornered desert lynx.’

  The soldiers around him chuckled and then turned to look at the nomarch, recognising his voice immediately, bowing their heads in respect, but Hannu was already on his second jug of beer and took no notice.

  ‘I’d met that lout before, in Avaris, doing the Shuyet’s dirty work,’ Hannu continued. ‘I didn’t think much of him then. I was in the shallows, water up to my knees. He towered over me, waving his sword over his head.’ Hannu shook his head, incredulous. ‘You know as well as I that victory sometimes turns on the smallest thing. That fool didn’t think to look down at his feet and see he was sinking into the mud. In his mind, he was already cutting off my head.’