news.”
“Bring him to me at once. And summon the other officers and the senior sergeants.” Pushing aside the personal musings, Sahure descended the hill and went to his small tent. He was unrolling the papyrus map of the Oasis to facilitate a more detailed debriefing from the scout as the men crowded into his tent.
Wine was brought. Worn and shaking from exhaustion, the scout needed only a single gulp to drain the mug of beer handed to him. “The Oasis is besieged,” he said, wiping his lips.
A murmur went through the ring of listening warriors.
“Who dares to attack Pharaoh’s outpost?” Sahure asked, relieved to hear he faced a problem requiring a military solution.
The scout accepted a second cup of wine from the manservant. “It’s a mixed force, sir. Primarily nomads, a few mercenary warriors from the southern tribes, but also a small troop of Hyksos.”
Now there was cursing from his audience.
Sahure clenched his fist on the hilt of his sword. “Hyksos! You’re sure?”
The scout nodded. “There’s no mistake. I was with Pharaoh in the year he took Thebes from the Usurper Queen and in other battles of the campaign as well. I recognize Hyksos. This is a small detachment, maybe fifteen men.”
“They’ve probably recruited this tribe of nomads to be their allies, made them extravagant promises,” Sahure told his officers. “It’s the Hyksos style nowadays to get others to fight their battles.”
“Clever tactic. If the Hyksos can choke off the rich trade from Punt and Kush, Pharaoh’s treasury will be impacted. Which can create a ripple effect to harm Egypt.” Menkheperr took a deep drink of his wine, quizzing the scout, eyes narrowed. “Besieged, you say, not surrendered?”
The scout shook his head. “The fort is plainly still resisting.” Moving to the table where the map had been set up, he traced the topography for them. “The oasis is basically a large bowl in the desert, ringed with limestone cliffs and canyons. The fort lies here, on a slightly upraised ridge at the entrance to the main portion of the oasis.” He stabbed a finger at the red dot on the chart. “The town is outside the fort and has a few wells, but the majority of the water is deep inside the oasis. The enemy can’t gain access to the water without taking our fort.”
“I imagine rations are growing short inside the fort,” Sahure said. “Water wouldn’t be a problem for them, but if they were attacked several weeks ago, the stores of rations must be growing thin. They can’t go out to hunt either.”
“What of the villagers?” Menkheperr asked.
The scout shook his head. “I saw a few people moving about in the town without hindrance from the invaders. The locals seem to be staying clear of the fight.”
“The townspeople are the Ta-itjawy , sent by a great Egyptian pharaoh centuries ago to settle this oasis and hold the caravan route. They believe they’re descended from the goddess Sekhmet,” Sahure said. “They’re Egyptians, but through the long years they’ve grown independent minded, more allegiant to their goddess and the local chiefs than to Pharaoh.” He shared his new concern with the circle of his officers. “A high priority challenge once we’ve retaken the oasis is building closer ties to the villagers again. Clearly we need them as allies, not neutral parties who wait out any problem, or worse, who might help the enemy.”
“Certainly they did nothing to alert Pharaoh,” Menkheperr agreed.
Nodding, Sahure gave his renewed attention to the scout. “Did you see any caravans?”
“Massed to the south, sir, in a big camp, loosely guarded by the nomads and mercenaries. The Hyksos didn’t appear to be involved in directly managing the caravans. I’ve never seen so many in one place at one time before. Must be five to ten separate caravans, hundreds of camels and donkeys, all trying to stay as close to the oasis as they can.”
“What water are they
“Bring him to me at once. And summon the other officers and the senior sergeants.” Pushing aside the personal musings, Sahure descended the hill and went to his small tent. He was unrolling the papyrus map of the Oasis to facilitate a more detailed debriefing from the scout as the men crowded into his tent.
Wine was brought. Worn and shaking from exhaustion, the scout needed only a single gulp to drain the mug of beer handed to him. “The Oasis is besieged,” he said, wiping his lips.
A murmur went through the ring of listening warriors.
“Who dares to attack Pharaoh’s outpost?” Sahure asked, relieved to hear he faced a problem requiring a military solution.
The scout accepted a second cup of wine from the manservant. “It’s a mixed force, sir. Primarily nomads, a few mercenary warriors from the southern tribes, but also a small troop of Hyksos.”
Now there was cursing from his audience.
Sahure clenched his fist on the hilt of his sword. “Hyksos! You’re sure?”
The scout nodded. “There’s no mistake. I was with Pharaoh in the year he took Thebes from the Usurper Queen and in other battles of the campaign as well. I recognize Hyksos. This is a small detachment, maybe fifteen men.”
“They’ve probably recruited this tribe of nomads to be their allies, made them extravagant promises,” Sahure told his officers. “It’s the Hyksos style nowadays to get others to fight their battles.”
“Clever tactic. If the Hyksos can choke off the rich trade from Punt and Kush, Pharaoh’s treasury will be impacted. Which can create a ripple effect to harm Egypt.” Menkheperr took a deep drink of his wine, quizzing the scout, eyes narrowed. “Besieged, you say, not surrendered?”
The scout shook his head. “The fort is plainly still resisting.” Moving to the table where the map had been set up, he traced the topography for them. “The oasis is basically a large bowl in the desert, ringed with limestone cliffs and canyons. The fort lies here, on a slightly upraised ridge at the entrance to the main portion of the oasis.” He stabbed a finger at the red dot on the chart. “The town is outside the fort and has a few wells, but the majority of the water is deep inside the oasis. The enemy can’t gain access to the water without taking our fort.”
“I imagine rations are growing short inside the fort,” Sahure said. “Water wouldn’t be a problem for them, but if they were attacked several weeks ago, the stores of rations must be growing thin. They can’t go out to hunt either.”
“What of the villagers?” Menkheperr asked.
The scout shook his head. “I saw a few people moving about in the town without hindrance from the invaders. The locals seem to be staying clear of the fight.”
“The townspeople are the Ta-itjawy , sent by a great Egyptian pharaoh centuries ago to settle this oasis and hold the caravan route. They believe they’re descended from the goddess Sekhmet,” Sahure said. “They’re Egyptians, but through the long years they’ve grown independent minded, more allegiant to their goddess and the local chiefs than to Pharaoh.” He shared his new concern with the circle of his officers. “A high priority challenge once we’ve retaken the oasis is building closer ties to the villagers again. Clearly we need them as allies, not neutral parties who wait out any problem, or worse, who might help the enemy.”
“Certainly they did nothing to alert Pharaoh,” Menkheperr agreed.
Nodding, Sahure gave his renewed attention to the scout. “Did you see any caravans?”
“Massed to the south, sir, in a big camp, loosely guarded by the nomads and mercenaries. The Hyksos didn’t appear to be involved in directly managing the caravans. I’ve never seen so many in one place at one time before. Must be five to ten separate caravans, hundreds of camels and donkeys, all trying to stay as close to the oasis as they can.”
“What water are they
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