Authors: Chanta Rand
He staggered back, then lost his footing and fell to the ground, striking his head on a large rock. His vision blurred and limbs hung dead. He could hear the battle raging around him, but he was powerless to help.
As his body lay immobile, his thoughts drifted to Kama. He could not be dying. He could not leave her now. She’d entrusted her heart to him. And he’d failed her. Now, he would never see her again. This was his last somber thought as he closed his eyes and surrendered to the total darkness.
Chapter Seventeen
It was early morning in Hermopolis. The sun tiptoed across the horizon, illuminating the battlefield and the carnage. Dust floated in the air and slowly began settling upon the abandoned weapons and dead bodies. A makeshift recovery room had been set up for the wounded soldiers on one of the Egyptian vessels. Latmay was relieved that very few of them were in need of serious medical attention. Most had superficial injuries that were easily rectified. Of the one thousand men that had gone into battle, only forty had been counted as killed so far. Another seventy had been badly injured. The rest of the men escaped with barely a scratch. It was a testament to their skill and fearlessness.
Latmay opened his leather case and quickly rummaged through its contents. He carried a variety of treatments for anything that ailed anyone. Aloe vera for headaches, chest pains, and burns; Sandalwood for indigestion, gout, and diarrhea; garlic for flatulence and hemorrhoids; frankincense to stop bleeding; and turmeric to heal open wounds.
He’d been trained as one of Egypt’s best physicians, but he rarely practiced all the things he’d learned until he followed the troops into battle. The Pharaoh had never had any maladies in the twenty-plus years he’d known him. Being Amonmose’s doctor had turned him into a fat, lazy old man. But he did not complain. He was paid well, and he ate well. Wasn’t that what life was all about?
Latmay had just finished setting a broken arm when a soldier burst into the room and announced he was needed on the Pharaoh’s boat. Fear gripped his heart. This could mean only one thing.
Latmay arrived to find Nadesh hobbling around the cabin, blood dripping from a cut on his leg, yelling orders to one of the infantrymen.
“Find him!” Nadesh barked. “He is still out there, I know it!”
The soldier bowed, unable to meet his eyes. “I am sorry. We are looking, but he is not easy to identify. Everyone looks the same out there.”
Nadesh sneered. “Keep scouring the battlefield.”
“We’ve got hundreds of men searching.”
“Get more! We are not paying for excuses. We are paying for results!”
“Yes, sir.” The soldier quickly departed the room.
“Can you believe this?” Nadesh turned to Latmay. “No one can find Amonmose. It is as if he’s disappeared off the face of the Earth.”
Latmay remained silent. Maybe he’d been kidnapped? It was not unusual for rival leaders to be held prisoner and used to bargain for money, land, trade routes, and even the crown itself. Latmay frowned, his body sagging with worry. Amonmose had no heirs. If something happened to him, one of his advisors would have to take his place. Latmay bit his lower lip to keep down the rising bile as he watched Nadesh lower himself into Amonmose’s chair.
He disliked the grand vizier a great deal, but right now, he’d rather have him as a patient than Amonmose. Latmay’s heartbeat gradually slowed down as he turned his attention to Nadesh’s leg. He’d seen worse cuts on the stray animals that occasionally ended up at his doorstep. He expertly cleaned the wound and applied a yeast poultice to reduce any swelling that might occur later. He wrapped the wound with a clean strip of fabric.
“You may have some pain after this wears off,” he told Nadesh. “If you do, you can take this.” He gave him a small pouch filled with crushed poppy seeds. “Use only what you need. This herb taken in great quantities is very addictive.”
Nadesh snatched the small pouch from Latmay’s hands. “My tolerance is higher than most.” He sneered.
Latmay sneered in reply. “I wish I could say the same.”
Edu picked through the bloody dead, searching for the bodies of his fellow soldiers. Many of them had wives not to different from his wife, who watched him go, not knowing if he would return. He would because the men next to him took down a Hyksos he had not seen coming; these others would not. He owed it to his fellow soldiers to get their bodies home to their families.
Edu’s eye caught the edge of a white tunic as he scanned the battlefield, and his heart sank. Another one. He carelessly moved the heavy bodies of the dead Hyksos soldiers from atop his fallen comrade. He breathed sharply. The soldier was covered from head to toe in blood. The poor man had probably suffered a great deal before dying. Edu peered closer at the body to see how he had been slain, but there were no cuts through his clothes. The blood did not belong to the dead man. It was from the dead soldiers that had fallen on top of him.
He bent down and grabbed the man’s arm, intending to sling him over his shoulders and carry him to the waiting cart. The corpse moaned. Then its fingers flexed, and Edu jumped back.
“We’ve got a man alive!”
Nadesh sat, nursing his wound. “I am going out there to look for him myself!”
Latmay kept his thoughts to himself. With each passing hour, he grew more fearful. What could have happened to Amonmose? Was he alive? A prisoner?
If the Hyksos found him dead, his lifeless body would have been mutilated and dismembered. Then, his body parts would have been presented to the enemy’s king and put on display. Without being properly mummified, Amonmose would be unable to enter the afterlife. If found alive, he could have been taken as a prisoner of war, tortured, or worse yet, enslaved.
No
, Latmay thought,
Amonmose is far too clever to die in battle
.
And Egypt needs him far too much
.
Already, Nadesh was making arrangements to set up camp and continue the search. There was no other choice. They could not leave without him.
A young soldier came bursting into the cabin, and both men looked up. “We have found him, sir!”
Nadesh’s eyes grew wide as he watched two large men carry Amonmose’s unconscious body into the room. “Lay him down on that table and get out!”
The men carefully laid the Pharaoh down as though he were fragile. His face was caked with blood and dirt. His white tunic was thoroughly soiled, and his entire body was bloodied and bruised. It was no wonder it had taken so long to find him. Without his crown or armor, he looked just like every other dead soldier.
Latmay sprang from his chair.
“Is he alive?” Nadesh hobbled closer.
Latmay put his ear to Amonmose’s mouth and felt a faint, warm breath. “Blessed be the gods…” He looked up at Nadesh and nodded. “Alive.” The grand vizier breathed out in relief and stepped back as Latmay began moving around the table. He checked his pupils and his pulse. Amonmose was barely hanging on. A Hyksos arrow still protruded from his shoulder, and the flesh around it had turned a grotesque, dark purple. A few more inches and it might have struck a major artery.
As he continued his inspection, Latmay noticed a nasty wound on one side of the Pharaoh’s head. The blood had congealed, but he could tell that it was a hard, blunt blow. The impact was probably what had knocked Amonmose unconscious.
“He’s taken a severe blow to the head,” he said aloud.
“Get that arrow out first,” Nadesh told him.
Latmay shook his head. “No, this wound to his head is more critical. The bleeding has stopped for now, but if I don’t tend to it first, he could die.”
He soaked clean linen strips in a mixture of water and turmeric. Then, he wrapped Amonmose’s entire head with the careful precision he had learned from preparing mummies.
Once Amonmose was bandaged, Latmay waved a smelling salt under his nose. The Pharaoh came around slowly, twisting and turning his face away. He scowled and sucked a sharp breath when he tried to move his arms.
Amonmose’s voice came out weak and lethargic when he spoke. “Where am I?”
Latmay answered, “Onboard your ship. You’ve suffered some substantial injuries that I’m attending to. Right now, it is imperative that I get this arrow out of your arm.”
Amonmose’s eyes slowly focused. “Who are you?”
“I am your personal physician.” Latmay said.
“A doctor?”
“Yes,
your
doctor.”
Latmay glanced at Nadesh. “He may be suffering from some type of delirium from the loss of so much blood. There is no cause for worry.”
“You’ve got to remove that arrow,” Nadesh growled.
Amonmose slowly turned his head in the direction the voice came from. “Are you also a doctor?”
Nadesh flashed Latmay a worried look. “I am Nadesh, your grand vizier and chief commander.”
Amonmose nodded deliberately. He took his time before he spoke. “If you’re my vizier…and he’s my doctor, then who am I?”
Chapter Eighteen
For the twentieth time darkness fell in Thebes, and still there was no sign of the Pharaoh’s army. Wives waited patiently for their husbands to arrive, ready to soothe the grim echoes of sacrifice from their faces. When the ships finally sailed silently into port, it was well into twilight, when most citizens were asleep.
Amonmose was immediately taken to his chambers. He’d slept for most of the voyage home, waking only to ask more questions. Latmay tended to him as he floated in and out of consciousness. The wound in his shoulder improved some, and he seemed to take a turn for the better.
Nadesh had planned their return carefully to ensure that no one knew the extent of the Pharaoh’s injuries. The men simply assumed he was resting as a result of the sleeping potion Latmay had administered. Once inside the palace, Nadesh was relieved to find that Amonmose’s chambers were empty. He gave strict orders that only Latmay and the advisors were permitted entry, Baal was left to stand guard over the Pharaoh, and the advisors held a private meeting behind the closed doors.
As the four men sat alone in Amonmose’s great room, Nadesh spoke freely. “He doesn’t recall who he is, or who anyone else is,” Nadesh said. “Until he regains his memory, I suggest we keep him sequestered in here.”
Hai jumped to his feet. “Have you gone mad? You cannot hold a Pharaoh against his will.”
“He does not know that he is Pharaoh.”
“He is still our ruler and He is capable of making his own decisions. What you propose is imprisonment, Nadesh!”
Nadesh gritted his teeth. “I do not believe so. For his safety, he should not be wandering the halls of the palace. He needs time to recover.”
Hai crossed his arms. “I think the best way for him to regain his memory is to be around people who are familiar with him. It is our duty to help him recover, not punish him because he has amnesia.”