‘I will not try to make excuses for the lives I lost this night,’ Piay said. ‘I should have scouted the area. I should have listened to Hannu and proceeded with caution.’

  ‘You were reckless. You have always been reckless. Too sure of your abilities.’

  ‘I know my own worth, that is all.’

  Taita wagged a finger at him. ‘I saw it in you that night your father delivered you to me. Yes, even then. You had little respect. You spoke without being asked. And you told anyone who would listen how great you were and what a remarkable destiny would be yours. Two doors awaited you, one marked Glory, the other Destruction. And I remember thinking that if you passed through the door of destruction, it would be by your own choice.’

  Piay felt a flicker of irritation. His pride had been stung. Yes, he had made a mistake this night. But he did not deserve to be damned so totally in this way.

  ‘Have I not been a good student? Your best student? Have I not learned every lesson you taught me?’

  Taita sniffed. ‘In the early days I feared you were an imbecile who would never learn a thing. But now it’s true – you know all that I can teach of the arts of peace and war. You are the greatest of all spies. And yet I feel sorry for you, Piay.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you have not known hardship.’

  ‘Surely that can only be to my benefit.’

  ‘A man cannot learn who he truly is until he has suffered. You are an unformed thing, balancing on the brink of greatness, wavering on the edge of an abyss of failure. The door to glory or the door to destruction.’

  ‘And you say I need to suffer to find glory?’ Piay fought to keep the note of incredulity out of his voice. If truth were told, he was still afraid of that switch lashed across the back of the hand. He winced. Even now, even as a great hero of Egypt.

  ‘You need to be taught humility. And to listen to your fellow man. A wise man knows when to act and when to take advice.’

  ‘Listen to Hannu? He’ll be holding that door to destruction wide open.’

  ‘Since I took you under my guidance, your life has been one of privilege. The finest robes, made by the greatest craftsmen, encrusted with jewels upon the softest Syrian silk. Your belly has never known hunger. Indeed, you have drunk the richest wine and partaken of dishes crafted with the skills of artists, meals laid before the Pharaoh himself. And all that privilege, and all that fame, has served only to swell your head.’

  ‘This is true. For all the constant fighting, life has been good. In the darkest hours, one must seize the bright moments when one can. You taught me that.’

  ‘A good student does not hear only what he wants to hear.’

  Taita glided back to the tent flap and sniffed the air. He was searching for any trace of smoke from the burning that was always left in the Hyksos’ wake. His master had allowed himself to become over-burdened with the worries of war. That could be the only explanation for his sour tone.

  ‘I ask again,’ Piay said. ‘You would like to see me suffer more? More than I have this night?’

  ‘No good man wishes hardship upon another. But you will never know your true worth until you have been shaped by travails upon the hard road of life.’

  Piay lounged along a bench, grinning. It was a show, of course. He was incapable of revealing to the world how deeply any matter affected him, something that Hannu had pointed out time and again. But Taita and all those at court had expectations of his strength, his skill and his charm, and he was determined to live up to them. Anything else would be to admit weakness. Inside, though, his mind’s eye tormented him with each twisted expression on the faces of the men who had followed him – trusted him – as the blades fell.

  ‘What now for me?’ He heard the hollowness in his voice.

  Taita looked up into the smoky reaches of the tent. When he spoke, each word came gently, as if chosen with the utmost care.

  ‘You are of no use to me here.’

  Piay flinched.

  ‘These wounds you bear after this night will continue to eat their way deep into the heart of you, and there they will fester. I have seen this many times.’

  ‘Then my service is over.’

  ‘At your best, you are too valuable to waste, Piay. And you may yet have much to offer. But you must learn who you are first. You must prove to yourself that you can overcome any challenge. Only then will you regain your confidence, and see it tempered by experience and humility.’

  Taita stroked his chin. A plan seemed to be forming, and when he next looked at Piay his eyes twinkled.

  Piay tried to show a contrite face. Was he not still the greatest spy in all Egypt? He would not see himself tossed aside so easily, not even by such an exalted man as Taita.

  ‘I can make amends. Give me any challenge, no matter how dangerous. I will prove to you my worth.’ As if he had not proved it a thousand times over.

  A ghost of a smile flashed across his master’s lips, or perhaps he had imagined it, for there was nothing to smile about in his demand.

  ‘Our survival here hangs by a thread,’ said Taita. ‘Our army is depleted. We have too few horses to match the relentless cavalry of the Hyksos. Any hope for victory is draining away by the day. All that stands in our favour is that so far we have managed to shield our weakness from our enemy. But if the Hyksos decide to come for us in any number, we will be crushed.’

  ‘But now we know their plans to attack Thebes—’

  ‘We do not have the numbers to defend Thebes. It will fall as surely as the morning follows night.’

  ‘What then? Retreat beyond the Second Cataract once again?’

  ‘We will have no choice but to attempt to retake Thebes. And we will be defeated, and that will be the end of the glory that is Egypt. Unless . . .’

  Piay narrowed his eyes. He knew that tone. His master’s great brain was burning white-hot. A plan was forming.

  ‘Unless we can find an ally.’

  ‘Who will ally with us? We have traded with all the world and we have many friends in foreign lands. But friends who will send an army to stand against the might that is the Hyksos?’

  ‘It is a difficult task, perhaps an impossible one. But I entrust it to you.’

  ‘To me? But if I fail . . .?’

  ‘Then all is lost.’

  Piay felt his head swim, and when it cleared he realised Taita was staring at him in a strange manner, a look that he could not divine. Yet he had the certain feeling that his master had guided him to this moment.

  ‘A desperate man can achieve great things,’ his master pressed in a quiet voice. ‘A man with nothing to lose will walk farther, climb higher, risk everything – including his own life – to find the prize that will bring him redemption. And you have nothing to lose, Piay. If you fail in this task, do not return. There will be no place for you here. Indeed, there may be nothing for you to return to.’

  ‘But where will I go? West? Only desert wanderers and murderous Libyans live there and they will not see any gain in sending men to fight the Hyksos. South, to Kush? Would the king beyond the cataracts ever help us?’

  ‘To the lands north of the great sea. To Mycenae,’ Taita said without a moment’s thought. ‘We have strong ties to the city states, through trade, through the exchange of knowledge with our wise men. The Mycenaeans are much like us. An ancient people, civilised, wealthy. And, most importantly, they have great armies, for those city states are always at one another’s throats.’

  ‘Mycenae? Do you wish me dead?’ Piay pressed his palm against his forehead. ‘I will have to travel through the heart of the Hyksos lands, find passage on a ship to cross the great sea through pirate-infested waters, traverse the war-torn lands between those city states . . . and then brave it all again on the return journey. Never mind negotiating with kings with little to offer them in return beyond gratitude and the promise of future riches.’

  ‘Then we are done here—’

  Piay held up his hand. ‘Now that I mention it, those things are no real obstacles, not for a man like me. Consider it done. Make your plans for victory. The days of the Hyksos are already over. One thought – how should I convince the Myceneans? Even my own powerful debating skills may not be persuasive enough.’

  Taita strode to a chest in the corner of the tent and delved into its contents. He pulled out something wrapped in cloth and handed it over. When Piay unwrapped the item, he gazed at a gleaming chunk of violet quartz.

  ‘This is amethyst,’ he said. ‘I have never seen so much before.’

  Taita folded his hands behind his back. ‘That is only the smallest part of it. There is a secret mine, known only to a very few and certainly not the Hyksos, which is the purest source of this beautiful gemstone. The Myceneans prize amethyst highly. Offer this sample in your negotiations and promise the mine to whomever becomes our ally. When the Hyksos are defeated, all the riches are theirs.’

  Piay stared into the violet depths of the crystal. Strange that Taita had such a sample on hand. But no matter.

  ‘I will depart immediately, if I can be given a vessel to carry me along the river.’

  Taita smiled fully this time, as if he had won some unspoken wager.

  P

  iay swept out through the sprawling camp. In the east, a thin line of silver edged the horizon. Soon the Pharaoh’s army would be waking, a new day of struggle ahead. There was no time to waste. The journey would be long and hard and there were many arrangements to be made.

  He found Hannu sitting by embers of the campfire, gnawing on a knob of bread. His assistant eyed him as he approached in a manner that suggested he thought Piay was coming to wrestle the bread from his grasp.

  ‘Did he whip you?’ Hannu said, spitting crumbs.

  ‘No, Taita did not whip me.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I am not a child.’

  Hannu sniffed in a manner that seemed to speak volumes. Piay looked at the other man. Perhaps it was his imagination.

  ‘We have an important job to do,’ Piay said.

  ‘Another one?’

  ‘More important than the last one.’

  ‘Ah, I see. The reward of failure.’

  ‘Things did not go as planned, that I admit,’ Piay said, raising his gaze to the sunrise. ‘But we learned the plans of the enemy, the very point of our foray this night. How can that be classed as failure? No, no, it may very well be that all our fortunes turn on what I have achieved.’

  Hannu swallowed the last morsel and sighed.

  ‘What’s our punishment?’

  ‘Our reward, my little friend, is the honour of being the saviours of Egypt.’ Piay let his hand drop to the hilt of his sword. ‘We are about to embark upon the greatest adventure of your life. Glory awaits you, Hannu. Glory awaits us both. Ready yourself to set out before the sun rises above the hills.’

  A

  forest of masts reached across the harbour. Piay marvelled at the number of vessels moored along the wharf as Hannu rowed their skiff in to the side. There must have been more than a hundred, of all shapes and sizes. Many had travelled from along the length of the Nile, but others had strange designs of a kind Piay hadn’t seen before and those could only have come from distant lands. Never had he seen so many crafts in one place.

  But this was Avaris, and all life must pass through the city if business was to be conducted in the Hyksos lands.

  Piay pulled himself out of the shelter at the rear of the skiff. Shielding his eyes against the bright morning sun, he surveyed the docks. They were swarming with sailors and merchants, but also Hyksos warriors with eyes as hard as stone, hands resting on the hilts of their crescent swords. This was the time of greatest danger. They would have to take extreme care from this moment on.

  The barbarians had chosen their administrative centre well after the invasion. Deep in the delta where the Nile drifted eastwards, Avaris stood in a commanding position for trade coming from the great sea to the north, or for those Egyptians who wanted to take their wares to distant climes.

  Piay studied the sprawling city beyond the walls. The Hyksos had been hard at work here. Scaffolding clung to several towering buildings. Masons heaved blocks of creamy stone into place. New homes for the burgeoning number of officials required to count the riches flowing into the coffers from all that trade and taxes on the now-conquered lands. A palace for the king? Most likely. And places for the generals to plot their campaigns against the Pharaoh.

  In the smoky distance, he could make out a half-built temple reaching up above the surrounding rooftops. The Hyksos left no doubt who were the masters here. With such shows of grandeur, it was unsurprising that many Egyptians bowed their heads to their overlords.

  Piay felt the bite of cold anger in his gut and imagined running from building to building with a flaming brand, burning the entire city and the legacy of the hated barbarians to the ground.

  Piay crawled back beneath the shelter. The chance of him being recognised so far north and deep in Hyksos territory was slim, but Taita had taught him to take no chances when he was on a spying mission.

  ‘The gods will challenge you when you least expect it,’ his master had said. Like most of Taita’s lessons, it had served him well.

  As he fanned himself with a palm frond, Piay watched the array of vessels drift by. No stranger would ever guess there was a war being waged along the frontier. Life went on as it always had. The Hyksos kept their intrusion into the affairs of the people to a minimum, encouraging trade and prayer and learning so that few could tell any difference whether it was god-given pharaoh or barbarian king who ruled over them.

  That made his task a little easier. He was well-versed in the art of blending in.

  But the journey north had been tense to begin with. They’d left the camp at sunset the day following their rescue of the Egyptian soldier and sailed under cover of darkness to cross the frontier. Even so, flaming arrows had seared through the night from the bank every now and then, coursing past their skiff to sizzle in the water.

  The boat given to them by Taita was larger than the one they had used to transport themselves across the river the previous night, but still small enough to be powered by the muscle of one man at oars. Hannu sweated under the blazing sun on the rowing bench. He didn’t complain, and why should he? He had the easy task. Piay had to expend the powers of his mind to plot a path through dangerous territory with enemies on every side.

  Once the sun had risen, it became easier to blend in. The Nile soon filled with vessels as far as the eye could see, from nimble skiffs to vast cargo ships low in the water, their holds filled with stone from the quarries. Sails cracked in the cooling breeze that swept along the valley from the Lower Kingdom, carrying the vessels towards Thebes in the south. Those travelling downstream towards Memphis took advantage of the powerful current pulling them towards the great sea.

  Hannu heaved the skiff towards the wharf. He was naked, the mat of black hair covering his back glistening with sweat.

  ‘Hyksos everywhere,’ he muttered.

  ‘All will be well as long as we do nothing to make them suspicious,’ Piay said in a low voice, his eyes constantly searching along the quay. ‘We are two papyrus traders, that is all.’

  ‘Then keep your hands hidden. They are as smooth as a handmaiden’s,’ Hannu said. ‘Anyone who sees them will know you’ve never done a day’s work in your life.’

  Once the skiff had drifted into the shadow of the wharf, Hannu jumped out and tied it up. Piay climbed the steps to where the multitude thronged. His ears ached from the din. Traders shouted over one another while they haggled. Sailors lounged on bales, singing and drinking beer and resting their aching arms. The prostitutes flashed their eyes and smiled with their red-painted lips at every passing man.

  Piay stared at the strange races that had found their way to Avaris: men with thick black hair shaped like mushrooms and narrow eyes in round faces; others with skin the colour of ebony, wearing scarves piled high on their heads; olive-skinned travellers in long white robes; slave traders with waxed beards; others with skin as pale as milk. Their voices formed a cacophony of unfamiliar languages, sighing and singing and jabbering.

  The air was thick with the scents of the spices being unloaded along the wharf. A new aroma tantalised his nose with each breath of wind.

  Suddenly realising he had been gaping like a stranger, Piay clapped his hands and grinned in a show of a trader eager to do business. He looked around with purpose. After a moment, one of the tax collectors walked up – an Egyptian. Though a slight paunch hung over the waist of his kilt, he was slender, his muscles undeveloped, and he held his hands as if his wrists ended in dead fish. He carried his record scroll under his arm. The barbarians had no writing of their own, so they employed Egyptian scribes to maintain their records.

  A Hyksos warrior prowled by, examining Piay to see if he was likely to be any trouble. Piay ignored the warrior’s piercing gaze and focused his attention on the thin man.

  ‘What is your business in Avaris?’ The scribe’s voice had a faint sibilance.

  ‘Papyrus.’ Piay gestured towards the skiff and the bales of papyrus that Taita had ordered to be prepared for them. ‘We are transporting our wares to Sena.’

  The scribe studied the skiff. Hannu kept his head down, pretending to rearrange the stack of bales.

  ‘One bale,’ the scribe said, turning back.

  Piay hesitated, not sure if he should haggle or give up the tax without a complaint. Either one could draw suspicion if it was wrong. He glanced along the quayside, watching the other new arrivals being met by the tax collectors.

  ‘I said one bale,’ the scribe snapped.

  ‘Very well,’ Piay said, making his choice. ‘But you will turn me into a beggar.’ He shouted to Hannu, ‘One bale!’

  With a few swift strokes of his brush, the tax collector made his mark on his scroll. Piay felt a note of relief that he’d made the right decision. But as he finished his mark, the scribe added, ‘Next time don’t complain.’ He looked pointedly from Piay to one of the patrolling barbarians.