Coincidence Theory Page 15

It was a long ride back to the Great City and J’tan’s limbs were saddle weary by the time they made their way over the last crest and stared out over the plain before them.

  The view was incredible. The first threads of the ferocious morning sun swarmed across the sands, casting long shadows down the dunes. Not more than an hour’s ride away, the Great City sat resplendent; a giant semicircle of stone set against the river, enclosed by a band of green. The new day’s sun picked out the brightly coloured spires of the city’s houses, and the farms lining the bank of the river writhed with the activity of man and beast.

  Looking out across this wonder, J’tan felt his first pang of homesickness. With a surge of sorrow, he realised this may be his last chance to see it.

  “It is a magnificent sight.” Samali said. “Your people definitely have a way with stone.”

  He nodded a response, trying to keep his emotions in check.

  “What is your plan?”

  J’tan knew entering the city would be difficult. He did not know who might have been told of his rebellion, but he hoped, even if they had, the people who he needed help from would not have been swayed by whatever they may have heard.

  “We shall head down toward the farmsteads to the south near the river. There, I will contact my cousins who should be able to get us into the city unnoticed. If I can get to Malachi, my student, he should be able to help us locate, and perhaps free, the mason’s family.”

  “Where are they being held?”

  “The Pharaoh kept them close, most probably in case the mason did not do as he asked. I placed them, under guard, in the chambers at the back of the harem. I can only assume no-one will have moved them yet.”

  “How do you suggest we get in?”

  “That is where you and Malachi will be very useful.” J’tan said, with a smile. “Come, we must make haste before my kin leave for market.”

  They spurred their horses on and began the trek toward the southern tip of the farms. As they approached, they could see men busily herding goats into large pens, or tying bundles of vegetables to the back of pack animals for transport into the city. The women they passed were sitting in groups, milling grain to make bread, or chatting idly as the butchered lambs for the day’s food. From time to time, children playing in the dusty tracks weaving between the reed huts would catch a glimpse of Samali and come over in curiosity. With elegance beyond her youth, she would give each one a small portion of fruit and one of her intoxicating smiles, sending the beaming child scurrying away as if given the greatest prize on Earth.

  “Is that you, J’tan?”

  J’tan turned toward the voice. It came from a squat individual sitting by a horse, tying long fruited branches together with grass vines. The man’s rough hands were missing digits and his face was dark and hairless.

  “Doriah!” J’tan said, dismounting and sharing an embrace, given with all the comfort and dignity of brothers. “I was not paying attention. How are you?”

  “I am fine. Your presence has been missed.”

  “It has been too long since I came and saw my family. How is my sister?”

  “My wife is fine. She is out in the fields, tending the newborn of our flock. Do you wish me to send for her?”

  “I do not need to see her if she is working the fields, Doriah. As long as she is in good health, that is all I need.”

  “I will tell her that you still think of her when she returns. Now, I do not wish to keep an important man longer than is needed. What is it that brings you here?”

  J’tan swallowed. It appeared no one had been to see his family yet. That meant he would need to give both the story of what happened and the explanation for it.

  “I need to speak to my cousins. Are they going to market today?” J’tan said, trying to buy enough time to compose himself.

  “They are. I ready my own animal for them to take. Do you wish to speak with them?”

  “As soon as possible.”

  Doriah was so absorbed with talking he did not notice Samali. As she serenely glided over the ground toward them, he became absorbed in her beauty. “Is this your wife?” he asked, in a hushed voice.

  “She is my travelling companion.”

  “I am pleased to meet you.” said Doriah, bowing lightly as Samali approached.

  “I am pleased to meet you too, Doriah. My name is Samali.”

  Doriah was transfixed. He stood, mouth open, gaping at the attractiveness before him.

  “Can you take us to see my cousins now?” J’tan said, putting a hand on Doriah’s shoulder. “Or would you like to stare at my companion a little longer?”

  “What...er... Oh yes.” Doriah said, turning red with embarrassment. “I’ll take you there now. Follow me.”

  They walked down the street, before the clutch of shacks broke into an opening with a tree at its centre. Tied to it, a number of animals were laden with different goods. To the rear of the beasts, two men stood and chatted.

  One man was tall and lithe, with long, muscular arms and broad shoulders. The other was shorter, with braids of hair that ran in tight knots down his chest.

  “Albamek! Rishorn!” said Doriah, as he entered the clearing.

  “I hope that beast of yours is ready, Doriah.” said Albamek, the taller of the two, as he turned to face them. “We can’t wait much longer for... J’tan!”

  At the name, Rishorn spun, a smile stretching across his face.

  “It is an honour to have you here, my cousin.” said Albamek, walking toward J’tan.

  J’tan clasped Albamek’s arm firmly at the elbow and hugged him. “It is a pleasure to see you all are well, Albamek. Allow me to introduce my companion. Samali, these are my cousins; Albamek and Rishorn.”

  “What brings you to our lands? I hope we are not in trouble with the Pharaoh.” said Rishorn, with a hearty laugh.

  “I am here because I require your help.”

  “And you shall have it. Any assistance we can give Pharaoh, we are happy to.”

  “I am not asking for help for the Pharaoh. I ask it for myself.” said J’tan, worry taking the deep undertones from his voice.

  “What has happened?” said Albamek, fear and hesitancy lining his words.

  J’tan stilled his anxiety. These were his kin. He required their help, so he must treat them with the respect they deserved. He recounted the last three days’ story as best he could, being careful to leave out any information regarding the artefacts.

  “I can only add that no harm will come to you or your families because of this.” said Samali, as J’tan finished. “The Pharaoh is leaving these lands soon, and will not return. However, if you do not assist us, many people may be harmed by your inaction.”

  Albamek and Rishorn glanced at one another. It was clear they thought that even if they did aid them, harm may befall their loved ones. No words were exchanged as the pair continued to fret over their decision, each one of them hoping the other would take the initiative and return a comment.

  “We will assist you.” said Albamek, eventually. “But only so you can restore honour to our family.”

  “I will do what you ask, my kin.” said J’tan, bowing in respect of their wishes.

  “We know you will our brother.” said Rishorn, striding forward and placing and hand on J’tan in a show of solidarity. “Now tell us how we may help.”

  “I need to get back into the city.”

  “Is that it? That should be simple enough.” said Rishorn, laughing.

  “The problem will come if any of the guards recognise me. I need your assistance in getting inside the city without being seen as we enter.”

  “That may be more difficult.” said Rishorn, thoughtfully.

  “I have an idea of how to get J’tan beyond the gates.” said Samali, pitching in when no other plan was presented. “We will cover him with goods and march him into the city tied to the side of a horse.”

  Albamek and Rishorn stared at Samali, a look of shock crossing their faces,
which slowly dissolved as they turned back to one another.

  “As we do not have time to think of anything better, it will have to do.” said Rishorn.

  Samali caught herself before she chastised the man for insulting her. Her place in these lands was as a subservient. She was sure if J’tan were not present, the men would normally ignore anything she suggested. She saw, on too many occasions during her time here, repeated acts of brutality against women who dared speak out against their servitude. Here, many seasons travel from her home, she was sure men treated their wives as commodities to be traded, with values assigned to them like goats and bulls. The thought that at any time a man of these lands could claim her, as long as he could subdue her and shave her head, was terrifying enough to make her every night’s sleep shallow and uneasy.

  J’tan’s cousins moved quickly to untie one side of a packhorse’s strapping, rigging up four heavy, leather braces. They carefully lifted J’tan onto the beast’s side, his face pressed firmly against the animal’s hide, and bound him to it.

  “I will ride the beast so it shall not be overburdened.” said Samali.

  “Then I believe we are ready to leave.” Albamek said, looking round the group.

  A short while later, their train set off out of the small square with Albamek, as the eldest male, leading the way.

  Once their caravan was out of their community it started along a main thoroughfare toward the gates of the city. Every now and again, another convoy of packhorses would join them from a different enclave and progress would be slowed. When they were within sight of the gate, progress was reduced to a crawl.

  When they eventually arrived, the main gate heaved with the activity of market. Sellers from all over the known world were here; Nubian artisans, Akkadian spice merchants, salt sellers from Karanduniash on the banks of the Euphrates, and the merchants of Mycenae. Many of these traders only rarely came this far into the lands of the Pharaoh and only when the weather was good and the season at home bad. The last few seasons were bad. Between drought and plague, most people were struggling to survive. Many of the city’s food reserves were desperately low and trade with foreigners was vital in keeping supplies of essential goods and minor luxuries flowing.

  As they passed beyond the gate and entered the main square, the sound of bartering was loud. Around them, hundreds of sellers lined the walls of the mud-brick dwellings surrounding the market square, and yet more weaved around man and animal alike, shouting prices and proffering goods up for inspection to those still entering the city.

  The fine pottery of the Nubian artisans, so essential in making food reserves last, was one commodity everyone needed during these hard times. Escalations in traded values were leading to several outbreaks of violence, and swarms of guards roamed the market area subduing the skirmishes.

  Albamek led their train through the throng and selected a spot between some spice merchants and a group of Nubian potters.

  “Rishorn!” Albamek said, as he dismounted. “I need you to work your spell quickly today, my brother. We cannot afford to trade too much for what we need, but we must get our supplies. The most vital is the ewes. Ensure you get two from the second or third summer. Be careful to look for the wailing lice this time. We cannot afford to lose more of our flock to infested breeders.” His instructions given, he turned to Samali and extended an arm. “If you would not mind. I am sure my kin has suffered enough.”

  Once down, Samali and Albamek removed the cloth and quickly untied the straps holding J’tan in place. He stood and stretched as he was released, his powerful body covered in sweat and fur beetles.

  Albamek helped J’tan remove the irritating insects and gave him some water to quench his thirst.

  “You must change your clothing, brother.” Albamek said, handing J’tan a heavy, hooded tunic.

  J’tan stripped quickly. He strapped his bow to his back before he put on the garment, tying a belt round the front, concealing his knives with an overflow of material.

  “I thank you, my brother.” J’tan said, with a respectful bow. “For all you have done for us.”

  “Think nothing of it, my kin. Just ensure you return our family name to its rightful glory and allow us to find our place with the gods.”

  “And you ensure you leave the city before nightfall.” said J’tan.

  The two shared another bow, before Albamek departed to begin the process of arranging his wares.

  “So where do we need to go?” asked Samali.

  “We need to get to the training grounds by the barracks. Malachi will be there, as always, setting up for the day. I hope that we can reach him before the rest of the group arrives. Come.”

  The rich smell of slowly roasting lamb drifted on the early morning breeze, clinging to J’tan’s nostrils and reminding him just how hungry and tired he was.

  As they weaved through the traffic in the market, the brightly coloured walls of the palace loomed above the simple houses surrounding the district.

  As they left the gate area behind, the houses thinned and they had to work hard to shift between areas of shade to make progress.

  Eventually, they made their way to the rear of the mighty palace, rounding its encompassing wall, and heading to a simple structure located to its side.

  The training grounds were a basic affair; a large, open dust circle, with a few dotted wooden huts and a straw barracks, surrounded by a low, mud-brick barrier.

  As J’tan approached, he could see Malachi laying out wooden swords and knives on benches in preparation for the day’s training.

  “I need you to find out if he will meet with me.” J’tan said, motioning for Samali to go and do as he asked. “I hope he has not been convinced I am the monster who others may have described, but I cannot take the chance.”

  Samali nodded, neatening her appearance before cautiously moving toward the boundary. As she approached, she could tell Malachi was young. Although shorter than J’tan, his impressive physique was equally muscled. He had long, dark hair, which ran in tight curls down his broad shoulders and his facial features were soft and not fully developed. If she were to guess, she would not have thought Malachi more than fourteen summers old.

  “Hello.” Samali said, as luxuriously as possible.

  The young man lifted his head, his interest stirred when his gaze fell upon her.

  “I come with a message from someone who needs your assistance. Someone who hopes he can trust your wisdom and strength.”

  “Who would need my assistance? I am but an apprentice.” said Malachi, his light voice conveying an inner power.

  “I come with a message from the only person who would call for aid from an apprentice. A person whose name I cannot say.”

  Malachi stood for a while, attempting to understand the cryptic words. Finally, his eyes opened wide and a knowing look crept across his face.

  “Tell your companion my presence would be missed now, but I will meet them after training has ended. I will repay my loyalty to them where they gave me their assistance so many moons ago.”

  Samali bowed to Malachi and walked back to their hiding place.

  “Did he agree to see me?” J’tan asked, as Samali squatted to his side.

  “Malachi said he would be happy to assist you and you should meet him where you once gave him assistance. He said he would meet you after his work is complete.”

  “Then we should move. The place where I first witnessed Akhenaten murder an innocent is not far.”

  Chapter 16