While Piay and Myssa hugged, Hannu tramped on. In the tightness of his shoulders and the lowering of his head, Piay knew something was troubling his friend, but he knew this was not the moment to question him.

  When they trudged into the city, the people crept out of their homes to scrutinise these strange new arrivals. The boy would have told everyone they were bringing a prize of the greatest value, one that would make this kingdom greater than all others. Piay hoped that would ease their passage into Chemue’s presence. He’d long been convinced that the king and his advisor Omari had never thought they would complete their quest and had decided these three travellers were long dead.

  Piay felt a simple joy to breathe in the earthy smells of a city – the woodsmoke, the sweat, the dust, even the stink of human waste.

  The crowds lined the street from the gate in silence, not sure what they were observing. Piay studied their thin forms and ragged clothes, the babies wailing in their mothers’ arms and the hollow-cheeked men. He’d expected them to have grown fat once the civil war had ended and food was not being wasted on endless battle. Yet it seemed that any wealth the king had gained from the end of the conflict had been kept in his own coffers.

  The guards were waiting at the palace gate. When Myssa spoke with the captain, the voices became raised and hands gesticulated until Piay feared they were not going to be granted admission. But then the captain swept inside and returned soon after, beckoning them in.

  Hannu wavered at the gate.

  ‘What is wrong?’ Piay asked.

  ‘I cannot look the king in the face,’ Hannu snarled.

  Piay nodded. Hannu was remembering the execution of Degba. That cruel act had eaten its way into his friend’s heart, rekindling many bitter emotions. Hannu would never forgive or forget. Piay tried to reassure him.

  ‘With any luck this dirty business will soon be done and we can be away from here.’

  Hannu handed over the pouch containing the Scarlet Feather.

  With the guards accompanying them, Piay and Myssa strode through the gate into the palace grounds. Piay’s eyes darted uneasily around him and he told himself to keep his wits about him. If Chemue had betrayed his own brother, the king could not be trusted to treat them fairly. How easy would it be to execute them both and take the feather without having to give up his prized elephants? Piay dropped his fingers to the hilt of his sword, ready to fight his way out if needs be. Myssa, too, gripped Jabilo’s spear at the ready. She had barely let the weapon out of her sight since they had left his grave.

  The throne room was stuffy in the heat of the day. Chemue sat straight-backed on his chair, grinning, but his eyes were as hard as pebbles. Beside him, Omari leaned on a tall staff. There was a smile there, too.

  When Omari spoke, Myssa translated.

  ‘He asks if you have what they desired.’

  Piay pulled out the long Scarlet Feather. Balancing it on his palms, he offered it up.

  Chemue and Omari’s eyes widened.

  Transfixed by this prize, Omari edged towards Piay. His face glowed with awe, as if this thing was some gift from the gods themselves, and then he bowed his head and said a few words.

  ‘I . . . I cannot understand,’ Myssa whispered. ‘Some prayer, I think.’

  Omari plucked up the feather with trembling fingers, placed it on his own palms and raised it towards the heavens. His voice rang like a bell.

  ‘Nothing can stand in the way of the great King Chemue,’ Myssa translated. ‘All that he desires will now be granted. The glory of the kingdom will shine forever.’

  Chemue threw his head back and laughed. Piay heard no joy, only a dark desire. Omari called out and a servant ran forwards with a bronze platter. Omari placed the feather upon it and the servant carried it away, no doubt ready to be fixed to the king’s headdress.

  ‘Tell him we have done as we were asked,’ Piay said. ‘Now we claim our reward.’

  Myssa uttered the words. Piay watched their eyes narrow.

  ‘Remind them that we are valued servants of the great Pharaoh of Egypt,’ he said. ‘Our return is eagerly anticipated. The Pharaoh will offer the open hand of friendship to any who would aid his envoys, as much as he would smite down any who betray them.’

  Once Myssa had spoken, Chemue and Omari reflected for a moment, their faces darkening, and then the king waved a dismissive hand. He was eager to lay his claim to power.

  Omari gave an answer.

  ‘Eight elephants – that is all we are allowed,’ Myssa translated.

  ‘It is not much, but it will have to do,’ Piay said.

  ‘They are too valuable to offer any more than that,’ Myssa continued, ‘and the king and his generals will need the rest of the trained beasts for what will come next.’

  Piay knew what that would be, just as Hannu had predicted.

  ‘But Chemue demands that in return for his generosity, strong ties will be formed with Egypt and there will be much trade to fill the coffers.’ Myssa showed an emotionless face, but her eyes revealed she knew what Piay was thinking. ‘A relationship of equals,’ she added.

  ‘Equals,’ Piay sneered. ‘Very well. Tell them we will do what he asks. Then let us claim these great beasts and be away.’

  T

  he ground rumbled as the elephants tramped away from their pen. Once again, Piay marvelled at the majesty of these beasts. However many times he saw them, he was no less awed by their power. He could see that their eyes sparkled with the same intelligence he had seen in the horses that Taita had trained in Thebes. They were seemingly as docile as any house-dogs, walking in line, their trunks swaying. After the carnage he had witnessed the bull elephant unleash in Azania, Piay could scarcely believe it.

  The Tumisi stepped beside them. A flick of a wooden switch or a raised hand was all it took to prompt the beasts to obey – to change direction, to lower themselves so their human brothers could climb upon them, and to charge into battle and terrify the enemy.

  Seats of wood and hide were strapped across the wrinkled grey skin of the elephants’ backs so the Tumisi could ride upon them, and harnesses were bound around their heads with ropes attached so their masters could guide them. The Tumisi lined up in front of their mounts. They were young, strong, wearing only leather kilts and a strip of fur tied around their foreheads to signify their status.

  Piay nodded to Myssa and she walked along the line, giving the orders with a shake of her spear for emphasis. The Tumisi needed to know that they belonged to Piay now and he demanded absolute loyalty. Anything less would receive a brutal punishment. But for those who stayed true, there would be rewards beyond their wildest dreams.

  Piay wasn’t about to risk the Tumisi turning on them once they had left the city, killing them and returning home. After Hanbaal’s betrayal, he would be more cautious with everyone he encountered.

  Myssa performed her task well, showing a hard face. Her voice cracked like a whip.

  Once he was sure the Tumisi understood their roles, Piay strode up. He needed to study these great beasts and divine their ways if they were to fight in the forefront of any battle with the Hyksos. To answer any of Piay’s questions, Myssa summoned one of the Tumisi, a young man with a shaven head and a gap between his teeth.

  ‘The elephants are not as docile as they appear at first glance,’ Myssa translated. ‘They each have their own personalities, their moods, which can shift like any man or woman.’

  The rider moved along the line, announcing the names of the elephants and describing their traits. Piay marvelled at how the Tumisi saw so many shades of behaviour in these lumbering monsters.

  ‘This one is Raju.’ Myssa pointed to one of the beasts.

  Piay flinched as he stared into its dark eyes, for he seemed to see a fierce intelligence there. The elephant flicked its trunk, almost caressing the side of Piay’s head as it nuzzled him.

  ‘Raju has a gentle nature and loves all men,’ Myssa translated. ‘Despite the elephants’ fear of fire, he broke down the wall of a burning hut so a child inside could be saved.’

  ‘Gentle, you say.’ Piay couldn’t help but smile at the beast as it playfully tapped him with its trunk. ‘But then what use will he be in the thick of battle?’

  The young man grinned when Myssa asked him.

  ‘We should have no worry there,’ she eventually replied. ‘Raju is a happy warrior. Gentle in peacetime, fierce in battle.’

  Piay moved along the line until he came to the final elephant. This time the trainer stepped forwards and pressed a hand against Piay’s chest to hold him back.

  ‘Do not get too close to this one,’ Myssa translated. ‘Mero has a temper as foul as a man waking the morning after a night filled with too much beer. He will swat you off your feet if the mood takes him, and one swat can break bones.’

  Once again, Piay peered into the eyes, and this time he saw the same sullen warning he glimpsed in a man thinking about drawing a weapon.

  ‘We should all keep away from this one,’ he said with a nod.

  Nearby, Hannu leaned against a mahogany tree, his arms folded. He couldn’t bring himself to show any joy at their success. His heavy-lidded gaze flickered towards the palace rooftop visible beyond the elephant pens.

  ‘We have done it, Hannu,’ Piay said as he walked up. ‘There were times I thought we would never gain what we desired – this prize always seemed to be disappearing into the distance. But . . . we have done it.’ He allowed himself a grin.

  ‘I had no doubts,’ Hannu replied. ‘If anybody could do this, it would be you.’

  Piay furrowed his brow at the surprising compliment.

  ‘We have a long march ahead of us,’ he said. ‘At least there will be beer and a feast fit for a king at the end of it.’

  Hannu grunted.

  M

  yssa strode ahead of a line of slaves carrying bales upon their heads, the provisions for the journey that she had been negotiating with Omari. While the Tumisi fastened the bales to the elephants’ backs, Myssa unfurled a roll of papyrus she had been carrying under her arm. It was a map, delicate brushstrokes showing their way in black ink.

  ‘See here,’ she said, tracing a finger along the line of their route. ‘Omari says we can follow the trade road to the north. It is well travelled and should allow for a fast pace. When we reach Azania we will find a great lake in the highlands, and from there we will follow the waters that become the Nile through Kush and back to Egypt.’

  Piay smiled, amazed. ‘Every day I watched Mother Nile flow by, and every season I celebrated when the floods came and she offered us her bounty, but never once did I think of her beginnings.’ He tapped his finger on the map. ‘This lake, you say? What magic must live there. That will be a tale to tell indeed when we are back in Thebes.’

  Once the arrangements had been completed, they bathed and Piay shaved off his beard and hair before preparing to fill their bellies from broad leaves covered with fruit that Chemue’s servants laid before them. As Piay raised the first bite to his mouth, Hannu stopped him. Taking a morsel of the fruit, Hannu pushed it into a servant’s mouth and watched the man chew. Only then did Hannu nod, satisfied.

  ‘Can’t be too careful,’ he muttered.

  ‘You are right,’ Piay said. ‘The king expects us to leave at first light tomorrow. I think it wise to make our departure today, at sunset, should he have any surprises for us. I am told there will be celebrations across the city this evening, and with luck Chemue and all his followers will be distracted.’

  ‘Wise, indeed,’ Hannu said.

  After that, Hannu grabbed an armful of fruit and wandered away to one side to eat his meal on his own.

  ‘Why is he brooding?’ Myssa asked.

  ‘The execution of Degba still preys on his mind. He will be well soon enough.’

  Myssa narrowed her eyes as she studied Hannu. ‘He seems to be wrestling with some choice. Have you spoken to him?’

  ‘One thing I have learned during my time with Hannu is that when something is on his mind, he doesn’t like to be asked about it. I have no doubt he will come to the right conclusion, whatever it is.’

  T

  he red sun burned above the treetops in the west. All the preparations had been made and the time had come to depart. As the shadows pooled across the city, Piay wandered to where their caravan waited. He was happy to leave this place. The throats of sleeping visitors could easily be cut in the dark.

  Perhaps he was worrying about nothing. He’d watched the slaves preparing a great feast for a ceremony when the king would be crowned with his new headdress with the Scarlet Feather set firmly in it. The news of Chemue’s elevation to godhood had spread across the city. The celebrations had begun. Piay could hear the music and the laughter ringing out. The king’s guards were already drunk and soon everyone at the feast would be, too. But even if there was no threat, Piay wanted no part of this merrymaking. The sooner this city was behind them, the better.

  Myssa shouted the order to the Tumisi and with a flick of their switches, the elephants lurched along the road and out of the city towards the north.

  ‘We are going home,’ Piay said, looking at the darkening sky ahead.

  ‘You are going home.’ Myssa’s tone was flat. She was remembering what she had lost.

  ‘I hope Egypt will become your home, too,’ Piay replied. ‘If not at first, then soon. I will do all within my power to show you the joy I feel there.’

  Myssa smiled. ‘I care not where we are, as long as you are there at my side.’

  Piay glanced to the rear of the caravan and glimpsed Hannu with his head still bowed. He marched along the line of elephants to Piay’s side.

  ‘I cannot go with you,’ Hannu said.

  Piay held out a hand. ‘If there is something wrong, we can—’

  ‘No!’

  Piay recoiled at the vehemence of his friend’s response.

  ‘Here is where we part company,’ Hannu insisted. ‘Do not come after me. Do not wait for me. It will do no good.’

  ‘Hannu,’ Myssa protested, ‘we need you.’

  ‘I have served you faithfully,’ Hannu said to Piay, ‘and if you have any kindness in your heart for that – for a friend – then do as I say. I cannot stay with you. I am compelled to go.’

  Piay shook his head in disbelief. He did not want to lose his friend. But as he stared into the other man’s eyes, he saw the determination there and knew he had no choice. Whatever preyed on his friend’s mind, there was no doubt this decision had been a long time coming. He seemed tormented by some inner conflict.

  ‘Why do you feel the need to stay behind?’ Piay asked. ‘After all we have been through, I cannot begin to fathom this.’

  ‘I cannot say—’

  ‘Will not.’

  ‘Yes. You will only try to talk me out of leaving and my mind is made up. Better not to waste your breath.’

  ‘I beg you to reconsider. Hope lies ahead of us, and victory. A rebirth for all of us. Nothing good lies behind.’

  ‘And therein lies the problem.’ Hannu lowered his eyes and said in a quiet voice, ‘This may be the last we see of each other. But if I can find my way back to you, I will.’

  Before Piay could press him further, Hannu turned and limped back along the road.

  T

  he moon turned the road into a strip of beaten silver running through the forest. In the camp at the side of the track, Piay leaned against a trunk with Myssa curled against him. Since Hannu’s departure, they had not travelled on much further before they broke their journey. Piay felt too despondent to trudge on, and he could see from Myssa’s downcast face that she felt the same. He hoped that after a night’s sleep his spirits would improve.

  The elephants slumbered, leaning against the trees that lined the road. The Tumisi dozed close to their charges.

  ‘Tell me what Egypt is like,’ Myssa said.

  ‘I have never known it at the height of its grandeur. Only stories I have heard, from my master Taita. But his eyes were filled with fire when he told me of the royal barges sailing down the Nile, and the glory of the cities, the feasts and the music and the art, even the simple pleasures of those who toiled in the fields. There was trade from all over the world, and great learning and medicine that healed men and women and children. There was peace. Truly it was a land blessed by the gods.’

  ‘That sounds wondrous indeed.’ Myssa paused, choosing her words. ‘And you believe your homeland can be that way again?’

  ‘There is no doubt.’ Piay’s voice rose with defiance. ‘Egypt’s glory lies in the hearts of its people. That will never be diminished. The Hyksos may have taken us by surprise. They may have been stronger with their bows and chariots and horses. But their time has been like a blink of an eye in the long history of my home. Soon they will be gone and forgotten. Egypt will endure.’

  ‘If your land is to be saved, my love, it will be because of people like you. You are the true treasure of Egypt.’

  Piay was moved by her statement. Not long ago he would have said such a thing as an empty boast. Now, to hear those words from another, they shone like gold. He wanted to thank her, but before he could speak he felt the slowing rise of her chest and the steadiness of her breathing and he knew she had fallen asleep.

  T

  he shrieking of the birds rang out across the camp. Piay eased himself out from beside Myssa and climbed to his feet. Drawing his sword, he wandered along the road to see what had disturbed them. The low rays of the sun were streaming through the trees and the cold of the night was fading as fast as the shadows.

  He glimpsed a flicker of movement. Something was rounding the bend in the road. The gait was rolling, the shape indistinct in the thin dawn light, but as it took on form, Piay recoiled in horror. Some terrible apparition was lurching along the road towards them, a creature that looked like it had escaped from the very depths of Duat. It had the shape of a man, but it was like no man Piay had ever seen before.