‘What is wrong?’ Piay asked.

  ‘Men,’ He twirled a finger in a circle. ‘Here.’

  ‘Hanbaal’s crew, hunting for food?’ Piay suggested to Hannu.

  ‘Perhaps. They may be sick of fish by now.’

  ‘Still, it would be wise not to draw attention to ourselves. Just in case.’

  Hannu nodded. ‘Agreed.’

  Piay waved his hand up and down to signal to Jabilo that they were to keep low. The warrior understood and hunkered down. They pushed forwards again, as fast as they could in the growing dark. No one spoke.

  Piay felt his senses catch fire. He strained to hear whatever it was that had alerted Jabilo, but the discord of the waking forest drowned out all else. His eyes darted, yet with the thickness of the vegetation and with the growing gloom it was impossible to see more than two spears’ lengths on either side.

  He felt unease begin to dig its talons into his gut. Would Hanbaal’s men really be roaming through the forest in the deepening dark?

  Jabilo prowled on, his speed increasing. He was unnerved, too.

  Piay peered ahead. He thought he could see a hint of night sky through the trees and smell brine upon the breeze, clean and sharp after the heavy aromas of the sweating forest vegetation. They were close to the beach. Just a little longer.

  A branch cracked behind them, loud enough to cut through the forest din.

  Piay and Hannu whirled, both drawing their swords. Piay strained and thought he could hear running feet.

  He flashed a glance at Hannu, who nodded, and they slipped off the path, hiding behind two cedar trees, one on either side of the trail. Jabilo darted behind a shrub with long, spiky leaves.

  Piay pressed his back against the bark, feeling his heart thump. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.

  The light had almost faded.

  The footsteps echoed clearly, thumping along the baked earth of the trail towards them. Piay held his breath, calculating the position of whoever was tracking them. When the sound of running feet was almost upon them, Piay leaped out of his hiding place and swung up his sword. Hannu bounded beside him at the same time.

  A shriek rang out.

  Piay blinked, at first not certain what he was seeing in the gloom.

  Myssa was standing there, hands pressed to her mouth in shock. His sword wavered a finger’s width from her breast. If he had mistimed his movement by even an instant, she would have plunged into his blade.

  ‘Wh-what are you doing here?’ he stammered.

  Myssa let her hands fall away. ‘I have made the decision to accompany you on your voyage. As a free woman.’

  Piay could scarcely believe what he was hearing. He felt a foolish smile creep across his lips and he quickly pushed it aside.

  ‘But your home—’

  ‘My home will be there when I choose to return. Besides, you said how much I had contributed to your success on this road. It would be mean-spirited to deny you my help for the remainder of your quest.’ Her eyes twinkled in the dying light.

  Piay wanted to embrace her.

  ‘Very well,’ he said with a shrug, ‘you are welcome to accompany us.’

  Myssa grinned as if she could see through his pretence.

  Smiling too, Hannu sheathed his sword.

  ‘I’ll feel safer now if we encounter any more pirate captains.’

  Piay barely choked down his joy as he turned back to the path. Jabilo bounded ahead.

  Soon the crashing of the waves on the shore could be heard through the trees and Piay caught glimpses of moonlight glinting on water. Then they were out of the forest’s tropical heat and into the cooling sea breeze.

  The rowing boat had been dragged up on to the sand just beyond the surf. Piay could see no sign of the oarsman, nor any other member of Hanbaal’s crew.

  ‘Perhaps they are here hunting, as we thought,’ he began until he saw Jabilo, rigid as a statue, ahead of him.

  As Piay crunched down the beach, Jabilo stepped aside, revealing what had gripped his attention.

  A spike had been jammed into the sand – a branch, crudely and hastily whittled. Impaled on it was the head of the rowing boat oarsman, those sightless eyes staring up to the trees as a warning to any who dared approach.

  Piay stared back for a moment and then he said, ‘Sakir.’

  H

  annu backed down the beach, his restless gaze roaming along the line of trees. Piay grabbed Myssa’s hand and pulled her towards the rowing boat, waving at Jabilo to hurry with them.

  ‘Make haste,’ Piay urged. ‘We do not want to be caught with our backs to the sea.’

  He’d convinced himself that Jabilo had been wrong about the men stalking through the forest around them – that it had only been Myssa’s hurrying footsteps that he’d heard. He should have known better. How close had they come to being discovered? If the Hyksos had stumbled across them there, their lives would already be over, and, perhaps Myssa’s, too.

  As they scrambled through the sand to the rowing boat, Piay noticed Jabilo’s eyes were wide with fear, and he glanced around as if some monstrous thing from Duat was about to descend on them. Though he was a warrior, it was unlikely he would have experienced the savagery of a man like Sakir.

  Piay put a hand on his shoulder. ‘All will be well,’ he said.

  Whether Jabilo understood his words, Piay didn’t know, but the young warrior seemed reassured. He mimed pushing the rowing boat out and Piay nodded. Together they heaved it into the shallows.

  Hannu walked backwards towards the water, keeping his eyes on the trees, until the cool surf was sluicing around his feet.

  ‘Can’t see any sign of them,’ he muttered, ‘but they’re there. And if we’re not quick, they’ll see us and be on us.’

  ‘Then stop grumbling and get in the boat,’ Piay chided.

  Hannu clambered in and offered a hand to help Myssa on board. Piay and Jabilo pushed the boat out until it floated easily and then they dragged themselves over the side. The bottom of the vessel was filled with fish. The hapless oarsman must have been foraging for food for Hanbaal’s crew when the barbarians caught him.

  Piay stared at that dark smudge of trees under the starry sky and wondered if Sakir was standing there, staring back. Hannu pulled on the oars.

  ‘Will we ever be free of Sakir?’ he said.

  ‘You know what it will take to bring that about,’ Hannu replied.

  When the boat was finally rolling across the incoming waves towards the lamps of Hanbaal’s ship, Piay relaxed a little. He glanced across the swell, but the rest of the ocean was dark. He felt his heart sink. He had convinced himself that the Hyksos’ warships had been destroyed in the storm. But Sakir had clearly been following a strategy of stealth.

  ‘Where have the barbarians moored their ships?’ he asked.

  Hannu grunted from his exertions. ‘This coast is pitted with creeks. However many vessels he has left, all could be hidden away in any one of them while Sakir searches for us.’

  Piay felt cool fingers on the back of his hand and realised it was Myssa.

  ‘You have defeated Sakir before,’ she whispered. ‘You can do so again.’

  Myssa left her fingers there and Piay did not pull his hand away.

  I

  n the lamplight washing across the deck of his ship, Hanbaal stood with his fists on his hips. He grinned as Piay pulled himself over the side.

  ‘Where are the elephants?’ he laughed.

  ‘A discussion for another time,’ Piay said. ‘For now, we must be away from here as soon as possible. The Hyksos are close at hand.’

  ‘Here?’ The slaver’s face darkened.

  ‘They are on shore, hunting for us. Your man who took out this rowing boat is dead. It’s only a matter of time before they come for this ship.’

  Hanbaal cursed under his breath. He snapped an order to haul up the anchor and commanded his crew to prepare to sail.

  Piay glimpsed Jabilo frowning as he watched the slaver move about the deck. No doubt he recognised him from the staged battle outside the settlement. He would have questions. But this was not the time.

  Turning to Myssa, he said, ‘I would wager Jabilo has not been on a vessel of this size – perhaps not on the open seas, either. He may be afraid as we voyage. Will you do what you can to soothe him?’

  Myssa smiled. ‘He will learn quickly enough. He is eager to see all this world has to offer.’

  She ushered Jabilo towards the stern, where they squatted out of the way of the crew’s labours. As they talked, Bast bounded up and slunk around Myssa, purring.

  Piay slipped in beside Hannu at the rail as the ship sailed out of the bay. His assistant showed a gloomy face as he looked towards the shore.

  ‘Time is running out for us,’ Hannu said. ‘With the Hyksos so close behind, once again we will be hard pressed to achieve what we want.’

  Piay nodded. ‘We can’t keep running forever. Sooner or later we are going to have to take a stand.’

  A

  fter four days at sea, the blare of an elephant thundered across the water of the bay. Battle cries echoed, and screams rang out above the howl of the wind and the crash of the waves.

  Piay and Hannu leaped from their resting place and raced towards the prow. On the platform, Hanbaal frowned. He’d heard those sounds, too.

  Across the deck, his men were returning to their benches, preparing to grab the oars to guide the ship out of the open water and into the sheltered bay. Hanbaal glanced back, no doubt wondering whether he should delay the order.

  ‘Tell me those battle cries were not aimed at us,’ the slaver said.

  ‘How could they know we were coming?’

  Piay shielded his eyes against the glare of the sun. He could make out a long line of trees, but the mysterious land beyond it hung in a haze.

  Since leaving Azania, Hanbaal had forced a hard pace. They’d barely delayed to take on water, surviving on the fish that swarmed in those warm coastal waters. Of the Hyksos at their backs, they’d seen no sign, though Piay had long since given up hope of an escape. He’d been lured into a false sense of security when the ships went down on the reef, presuming that all the vessels had been lost. His enemies must have retreated to lick their wounds. And now Sakir was out there, somewhere, just over the horizon. They would never evade him. It was simply a matter of choosing when to fight.

  Finally they’d closed in on this hot, steamy land where the Abantu said the kingdom that had mastered the war elephant was. Jabilo had passed on the knowledge Dume and the elders had communicated to him, and with his charts Hanbaal had calculated the most likely location.

  But this was unknown territory to all of them. Hanbaal had never ventured this far south, and Jabilo had only fragmentary stories of the people who occupied this land.

  Hanbaal turned to his crew and called, ‘Furl the sail. Slow and steady.’

  Without the wind in the sail, the ship’s progress slowed and the drummer thumped his skins to set the pace. The oarsmen pulled to the beat.

  The wind shifted direction and carried the screams across the water.

  Hannu stared ahead. ‘That is the sound of the dying. Once you have heard it, you never forget.’

  Hanbaal moistened his lips. ‘We may need to have another conversation about gold. In my mind’s eye, I can now see three times my weight piled up and gleaming before me.’

  ‘You will be well rewarded for whatever lies ahead,’ Piay replied. He was prepared to empty the Pharaoh’s coffers to achieve what they needed, and he knew Taita would back him.

  As the ship skimmed the waves towards the bay, a thump reverberated off the hull, then another. Piay, Hanbaal and Hannu peered over the rail, afraid the vessel was plunging onto some hidden reef.

  A body bobbed against the prow. An arrow protruded from the eye socket.

  Piay studied it, taking in the streaks of white remaining on the face that suggested something akin to the Abantu war make-up. The muscular chest was bare, but a brown leather armour reached from his neck across his collar bones. Bands wrapped around the biceps, and from them trailed strips of long pale fur now sodden in the seawater.

  Ahead more bodies littered the ocean, drifting with the currents.

  Hanbaal raised his hand and the drumming stopped. The sailors leaned on their oars and the ship drifted in silence towards the shore. Arrows bristled from all of the floating bodies.

  ‘I do not like the look of this,’ Hanbaal murmured. ‘We should turn back.’

  ‘No,’ Piay insisted. ‘Keep going.’

  The slaver hesitated and then raised his hand once more. The pounding of the drum rumbled, echoing the steady knocks of the bodies against the hull as the ship lurched forwards.

  Hannu pointed to an upturned log-boat. A single oar floated nearby.

  ‘Some kind of sea battle,’ he said.

  As they sailed into the mouth of the bay on calmer waters, the screams and the blaring of the elephants became punctuated with full-throated battle cries.

  A battle was raging. Beyond the shallows, a multitude of log-boats dotted the blue water – two small navies in close combat. Eight men clustered in each boat. Arrows rained down from archers standing in the rear of the vessels. The shafts thumped into chests, limbs, heads. Some whistled by harmlessly, splashing into the swell or rattling into the wood of the boats. In the centre of the battle, opposing warriors hacked at each other with swords as their vessels rowed side by side. The waters ran pink.

  Despite the fury of the conflict, Piay was fascinated by the fighting raging along the beach. Foot soldiers stabbed with spears and swords clashed. Two war elephants ripped through one army. They trampled warriors, gored others with their red-stained tusks. On their backs, riders urged them on into the throng.

  Piay marvelled at the fury of those giant beasts. For the first time, he truly understood the Oracle’s message. With these war elephants in the Pharaoh’s army, the Hyksos horses would flee in terror. The barbarians’ army would be routed.

  Piay had barely dared hope that his quest would be a success, but he now felt a swell of exhilaration. If the gods were willing, he would soon be journeying back to Egypt where he would bask in his master Taita’s praise.

  Once they were in the bay, Hanbaal commanded his men to stop rowing. The crew dropped the anchor and the ship strained on the swell.

  Piay watched the warriors in the boats observe the new arrival warily, no doubt each side fearing this was some ploy by their enemy. He wondered if they had ever even seen a vessel of this size. How terrifying must that be?

  The deluge of arrows slowed, then stopped, the last few shafts fizzing into the water. As if on some unheard command, the log-boats rowed apart, one group disappearing around the edge of the bay. The warriors along the beach ground to a halt, staring, their weapons lowered to their sides. Then they, too, broke up, racing in opposite directions. The two war elephants lumbered on to a track through the trees and vanished.

  In no time, the battle was over. Clouds of shrieking gulls swept in to feast on the remains.

  ‘This is a bloody fight,’ Hannu said as he looked across the field of bodies. ‘And we’re supposed to walk right into the middle of it?’

  S

  oon after, the gulls soared into the blue sky with a thunderous beating of wings. Piay watched a knot of figures stride from the line of trees There were ten of them, coming to a halt halfway down the beach where they stared at the ship. Nine were warriors – towering men holding their spears in the crooks of their arms. They were dressed like the first corpse Piay had seen drifting in the waves, with the leather armour around the neck, bands trailing pale furs on the biceps, a studded belt from which hung a leather kilt cut into long flaps, and more pale fur hanging from straps around the shins.

  At the centre of the group was a man with a tall headdress constructed from a leather helmet from which sprouted multiple fans of brightly coloured feathers. He wore a long brown linen robe tied at one shoulder and what looked like a leopard skin thrown over it, like the sem-priests at the temple in Thebes, who mummified the corpses and chanted the incantations.

  ‘They are waiting to greet us,’ Myssa said.

  ‘Or kill us,’ Hannu added.

  ‘We have no choice but to go ashore,’ Piay noted. ‘If they are the ones who commanded those magnificent war elephants, we must begin negotiations immediately.’

  ‘I will accompany you,’ Myssa said.

  ‘It may be dangerous,’ Piay said to her. ‘You should stay here, where it is safe.’

  Myssa cocked an eyebrow. ‘I will accompany you.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I am a free woman. I make my own decisions.’

  ‘Don’t waste your breath arguing,’ Hannu grunted. ‘Let’s get on with it.’

  ‘Good, good,’ Hanbaal said, rubbing his hands. He showed a sly grin. ‘The sooner you conduct your business, the sooner I can begin filling my coffers. Tell me who I should speak with in Thebes if you do not make it back alive.’

  P

  iay slipped out of the rowing boat and strode through the surf. Hannu, Myssa and Jabilo kept close behind him.

  They’d barely crunched on to the sand when Hannu whispered, ‘They are not alone. The trees seethe with archers. They can cut us down in an instant.’

  ‘I would expect no less.’

  As they neared the group, Piay watched their eyes shift from him and Hannu to the more familiar figures of Jabilo and Myssa. That seemed to put them at ease, as he had intended.

  Piay came to a halt two spears’ lengths away from the welcoming party and bowed. He could see the one in the headdress was much older than the warriors, clearly a leader. His face was graven and his voice rumbled, low and unwelcoming. Myssa nodded, understanding; the dialect sounded to Piay like the tongue of the abantu.

  ‘He says, “Leave here now. Or die.”’

  ‘Tell him we have been sent by the Pharaoh, the great king in the north, to discuss trade that will enrich such a powerful, exalted people.’

  Myssa stumbled over the words a little. The leader of the group responded with only a few curt words.