Copyright © Fred Watson 2007

A serialisation part 14

After successfully defeating the Desert Hawks led by Nebarmun the renegade Nomarch.  The young officers, Tuti, Hann and Abba, under the watchful eye of commander Ayi, marched the brigands back to Akhmim, handed them over to the authorities and spent that evening being entertained at the judge’s house.

The following morning, they set of once more on the desert route that would take them to the fort at Kharga. This time Hann made sure that his section was at the front marching right behind the commander. Tuti’s section was behind his and Abba and his men played catch up at the rear. Let him eat the dust for a while, thought Hann.

After the excitement of the run in with the desert Hawks, the march was dull, boring and monotonous, nothing but sand, rock and the odd scrubby tree or bush. The occasional vulture or two rode the thermals high in the sky and now and again, Hann glimpsed a lizard before it disappeared from view. It was a desolate, unforgiving landscape that was lacking in colour and he couldn’t wait to exchange it for the lush green of the oasis.

He was given his wish a week later when they topped a rise and saw a thin green line in the distance that denoted the oasis.  The fort build from local stone stood apart from one end of the oasis and blended well with the desert surrounding it. In fact it blended in so well that if it hadn’t been for the herds of animals and the tents and shops of the traders that lined the road either side of the gates, they might well have missed seeing it until they grew near.

The road into the fort was crowded with off duty soldiers and the merchants they haggled with. But as the troop approached the crowd moved aside to let them through, all bar one man, a giant Nubian who stood his ground and with a fierce scowl dared anyone to come near. All of the men edged over as they passed him except Abba who deliberately bumped him and then spun around, when the man lashed out, to deliver a punch to the man’s chin that would have felled an ox.

The Nubian took a step back, shook his head as if to rid himself of a fly and let loose with a punch that rocked Abba back on his heels. With a roar Abba retaliated and a crowd formed around them as they went at it hammer and tongs. A pair of giants – if it wasn’t for his skin colour Abba could have been the Nubians twin – that stood toe to toe and traded blows that would have had any other man on his knees. So well matched were they that the fight could have gone on for hours and would have, if Commander Ayi hadn’t arrived and ordered the arrest of both. It took ten men to subdue Nubian, four of whom ended up in the medical room at the fort.  It took fewer men to subdue Abba, but that was only because Tuti intervened and managed to calm him down.

The Commander gave the order for the brawlers to be bound and put under guard until they reached the fort. As Abba was being bound he turned as if to say something to the commander, but after a short pause shrugged his shoulders and allowed himself to be led away. To Hann it looked as if Abba had been about to pull rank and claim royal privilege.  But had changed his mind after realising that it wouldn’t work, not with commander Ayi in charge.

Khety the commander of the fort was waiting on the parade ground to greet the new arrivals. Commander Ayi at the head of his men, marched to the centre of the parade ground, brought the troops to a halt, gave the order to stand ready for inspection and moved forward to meet the forts commander. ‘Commander Ayi of the royal bodyguard at your service, Commander?’ 

‘Khety, I command here at Kharga and may I ask why the illustrious commander of the royal bodyguard is delivering my replacement troops? I take it that these men are my replacements?’

 ‘They are, all bar the three officers, who are under my direct command.’

‘Three? I only see two.’

‘The other is under guard along with a Nubian that I believe belongs to you.’

‘Ah, you talk of Ibhet, a trouble maker that one,’ said Khety.

Commander Ayi raised an eyebrow in query, and Khety continued. ‘I saw the brawl from the battlements above the gate. What do you want done with them?’

 ‘Lock them up for the night, that will cool them down.’ 

‘I will do as you ask, though I am afraid nothing will calm down Ibhet, he has a fiery temper that one.’

‘I have a suggestion to make that may sort him out for you. But first, if you have them locked up, we can inspect your new recruits.’

 While Abba and Ibhet were led away, Commander Khety took a look at the new men. ‘Not a bad looking bunch, but I take it that like most of the peace time recruits I am sent, they will never have seen any action.’

 ‘Oh, they’ve seen action, and given a good account of themselves too; we had a run in with the Desert Hawks on our way here.’

‘The Hawks have been a thorn in my side for the past two years and although we have captured and tortured several of them we never been able to find their leader or their base of operations.’

‘Well, they won’t be bothering you again. We have destroyed them and captured their leader the Nomarch Nebarmun.’

 ‘Nebarmun, no wonder I could never find their leader. You must think me inept at my job, but this fort was under his jurisdiction and as Nomarch he was beyond suspicion.’ 

‘Don’t worry I can see the problem you had. Beside we only managed to find him by accident, we just happened to be in the right place at the right time.’

 ‘That’s very magnanimous of you Commander Ayi. Why don’t we dismiss the men, get your officers settled in and then you can tell me all about it.’

The men were dismissed and taken to the barracks. There was plenty room for them even with the men they were to replace still in occupation. The peacetime garrison was less than half the size of a wartime garrison. Which was just as well since the men being replaced would not be leaving until commander Ayi had completed his business.

Tuti and Hann were taken to the officers’ quarters by under commander Huy a man of a thuggish coarse appearance that belied his hearty, almost pleasant nature.   The quarters for junior officers were divided into ten separate rooms each containing a bed some pegs to hang up clothing and equipment and little else. ‘The first four are in use, Gentlemen. You can take your pick of the others, they’ve all been swept out just in case.’

After slinging his kit into one of the rooms Hann asked Huy if there was any chance of them seeing Abba.

 ‘Don’t see why not, he’s only in for brawling and he’ll most likely be released in the morning.’

 After delivering them to the holding cells, Hoy left them to it, pleading other duties to perform. The cells were actually pits in the ground with heavy wooden grids across the top with a hatch for access in the centre. There were four pits, each big enough to hold at least a dozen prisoners, or more if the all stood up.  Today however, the pits had only one occupant each. Abba was in the nearest, the belligerent Nubian in the farthest and those in between held a couple of swarthy, hook-nosed, desert dwellers.

 It looked to Hann as if the pits would be hotter than the very heart of the desert, when the midday sun shone directly into their depths. Lucky for Abba then that midday was long past and he could sit in the shadowed portion to one side.

Tuti couldn’t help it, a grin split his face, ‘I always knew that temper of yours would put you in a cell one day,’ he said.

Abba shaded his eyes with his hand and looked up, ‘Very funny, ha, ha, I might have a temper but a least I don’t laugh like a hyena.’

‘Ooh we are touchy aren’t we?’

‘I’ll touchy you, when I get out of here.’ 

Hann listened to the banter with a smile, then composing his features he joined in, ‘Now children, play nicely,’ he said sternly and they all went into peels of laughter.

 As the laughter died down Tuti wiped his eyes and said, ‘Seriously, Brother I ‘m sorry you landed in a cell, but the good news according to Under Commander Hoy, is that the penalty for brawling is only one night and you should be let out in the morning.’

‘Oh wonderful, ‘said Abba. ‘Now all I have to do is spend the night in this pit and starve.’

‘Cheer up,’ said Hann. ‘We can’t get you out of the pit but we can certainly get you some decent food.’

 ‘Well, in that case, don’t stand there like a pair of idiots, go and find me some, I’m famished.’ 

‘Yes, Sir, at once, Sir.’

‘Well, what are you waiting for go on bugger off, and see if you can’t find some meat and some wine.’ 

The barrack cookhouse was a waste of time; the army was fed very little in the way of meat apart from what was served at the commander’s table. Their best bet was to buy a few chickens from one of the vendors outside the fort and talk one of the army cooks into cooking it for them. As turned out they managed to get the chickens cooked without going near the cookhouse.

Outside the fort they found a chicken seller with his crates of live chickens, sitting out side The Inn Of The Golden Palm. A fortunate occurrence since it turned out to be thirsty work buying chickens. Neither Tuti nor Hann had a clue as what constituted a good chicken so they picked four of the least scrawny. The birds were killed and were handed over complete with head feet and feathers.

‘What are we supposed to do with these,’ cried Tuti in disgust.

‘Why, get your servants to pluck, clean and cook them, Master,’ said the old chicken seller.

‘And if I don’t have a servant, what then?’

‘Ah, in that case,’ said the old man. ‘For a six copper coins I can have them plucked, cleaned and delivered to The Golden Palm. The owner is Khaba. If you tell him Adjib sent you he will get one of his women to cook them for you.’ 

After a bit of bartering they settled on a price of three coins and somehow still thought that Adjib got the better of them. The other three coins they gave to Khaba and after purchasing a skin of palm wine settled down to wait. The wine was a house speciality and it was pretty potent. So much so that by the time the chickens were ready, the two of them could barely stand. Luckily Khaba, please with the money they had spent on a day that was normally quiet, loaned them for only one copper coin, the use of a boy to carry the basket of cooked chicken and the extra skin of wine they had purchased.

Thanking the innkeeper profusely, as drunks are wont to do, they staggered back to the fort with the boy in tow.  Taking a chicken each from the basket, they handed the basket and the skin to the guard who lowered them into the pit.

‘Ah, that’s better,’ said Abba, after taking a long swig from the skin and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. For the next fifteen minutes no one spoke, they were busy tearing the chickens apart with their teeth. When they’d finished eating Tuti and Hann, mumbled goodnight and leaving Abba to finish the wine, staggered back to the barracks and fell into their cots.

Compared to the rest of the barracks the commander’s five roomed quarters were luxurious and having no family he had them all to himself.

 ‘ I’ve had a bed made up for you here, commander Ayi, I hope it will be comfortable enough for you.’

‘Thank you, I’m sure it will be and between the two of us I think we can do away with the commander bit, Khety.’ 

‘In that case Ayi, I invite you to dine with me. Shall we go through? My servants have prepared a meal, it is quite a simple one I’m afraid.’

The table had been laid out under the shade trees in the garden and while Khety insisted that it was simple fare, the spread that included, besides the staples, chicken, duck and desert hare, with sweet meats to follow, looked pretty good to Ayi. The wine being Syrian was exceptionally good too.

During the meal, prompted by Khety, Ayi described in detail Tuti, Abba and Hann’s part in the capture of the Desert Hawk’s and their leader the renegade Nomarch.

‘Your officers seem to be exceptional young men,’ said Khety when the tale was at an end.

By now with the meal and half a skin of wine consumed between them the two men had become comfortable with each other and Ayi judged that now was the time to tell Khety the reason for his visit.

‘They are indeed special, so special that I have the Pharaoh’s permission to bring them here and make a request of you.’ Ayi said, as he reached into his cloak and produced the royal seal given to him by the Pharaoh. 

‘This gives you permission to demand anything you want and I cannot refuse.’ 

‘True, but what I propose is beyond the norm and I would prefer to make it a request, which gives you the opportunity to refuse, should you feel unable to arrange what I request.’

 ‘Well I’ll say this, you certainly know how raise a mans curiosity; come on, out with it man.’

Ayi smiled at Khety’s impatient tone and wondered how he would react to his request, even as he blurted it out, ‘My officers wish to take part in one on one combat.’

‘They could do that anywhere in the land. Why here?’

‘Because of who they are, and the fact that the contests are to be to the death.’

There a sharp hiss as Khety took a breath, then silence a he mulled things over before speaking, ‘I still ask why here? The Pharaoh could order anyone to fight them and none dare refuse.’

‘Ah, there is a problem with that. How can I put it?  Abba, Tuti and Hann are not the true names of the officers in question and if their names were known, none would dare harm them for fear of the Pharaohs wrath.’

‘Maybe that would be as well, if they are so important as to make people fear the wrath of the Pharaoh.’

‘Yes, but the young men themselves insist that the fights are truly to the death and the Pharaoh for reasons of his own has agreed to that without fear or favour. So here I am in a place where none can possibly know who they are, requesting three opponents to fight my men to the death.’ 

‘Regardless of who they are, I couldn’t possibly, nor would I want to order any of my men to take part in such a contest.’

‘And that is precisely why I made it a request, but are you sure none of you men would volunteer for such a fight.’

‘I’m sure… no wait there may be one who might, given the right incentive.’

‘And what would that incentive be?’

‘Discharge from the army and a bounty to take back to his village in Nubia.’ 

‘Ah, I see, you mean Ibhet, the big Nubian trouble maker, and you are prepared to let him fight?’

 ‘I am, to be honest Ihbet hates it here and is always fighting with the other men. He’s a vicious fighter who will kill one day and I shall only have to execute him in the end. So yes I think it is better to give him this chance.’

‘That is one now there is only two more needed, is there no one else you can think of?’

‘None unless you count the two Libyans due for execution tomorrow and surely you wouldn’t want to give them the chance of freedom?’

‘Why not? Let’s ask them.’

The next morning Khety had the Nubian brought before him and he accepted the proposition with a grin. Next the Libyans were brought up from the pit and were given a choice that was no choice at all. Be executed forthwith or take part in a fight to the death, with freedom as the prize should they win. They of course took the second option and the contests were set for three days hence.

When Abba was released Tuti and Hann took him to the cookhouse for breakfast and they had barely finished eating when they were ordered to attend the fort commander in his office. There, commander Ayi gave them news of the forthcoming contests and informed them of the choice of opponents.

‘The Nubian is mine,’ cried Abba, stating his claim before anyone else had the chance to draw a breath.

‘Well, in that case Hann I’ll give you first pick of the other two,’ said Tuti.

‘That is kind of you, I’ll have the one with the big nose.’

‘But they’ve both got … ha, ha, very funny. I that case I’ll take the one … ’ 

‘Stop this foolishness at once,’ said commander Ayi. ‘ It is no laughing matter. These men will be fighting for their lives, as will you, so I suggest that you spend the next two days honing you skills in preparation and I strongly advise you to keep off the drink too.’ 

This last remark was directed at them all, but his eyes came to rest on Abba, who squirmed uncomfortably under their stare.

Tuti Abba and Hann spent the next two days on the edge of the desert at the far side of the oasis, away from prying eyes. There they practiced from dawn to noon and again in cool of the evenings in preparation for the contests. Having asked to face their opponents in a fight to the death, they now realised that they must give themselves every advantage for in such a contest there was an even chance that they could be the ones to die.

Back in the fort the Nubian and the two Libyan’s were given the same opportunity to practice, albeit under the watchful eye of armed guards in the case of the Libyans.  All three however declined, such was their confidence in their own fighting abilities that they were certain that they could easily overcome a trio of wet behind the ears boys.  Even though the Libyans were enemies, In the interest of fairness commander Khety ordered that they be allowed out of the pit for exercise twice a day and be fed the same food as the rest of the garrison. As to the Nubian, freed from the pit and excused duties until after the contest, he spent his time bragging to anyone who would listen, about how he would annihilate the big snotty young officer.

The fights were to take place at dawn to take advantage of the cooler air and in the grey predawn of the third morning commander Ayi led the royal trio to the centre of the parade ground. As the sky began to lighten and the night shadows fled they found themselves facing the three fighting rings.  The rings marked by a circle of white stones were ten paces across and separated by the same distance. Each pair must fight within the ring and since it was to be a fight to the death. Any man leaving the ring, either by accident or design, before the conclusion would be killed by the guards that ringed the outside. Once you stepped inside, there was only one way out alive, and that was to kill your opponent. 

Every man in the garrison, with the exception of those on guard, was out in force. The mind numbing boredom of a peacetime posting in a desert outpost was gone and there was a carnival atmosphere. Men bet amongst themselves as to the outcome and all around the parade ground bloodthirsty men jostled for the best positions. On Ayi’s order the contestants moved into place outside of the rings, Abba as he requested facing the Nubian. Tuti faced one of the Libyan’s and Hann the other.

Hann looked from one Libyan to the other and at first couldn’t tell them apart. They were both sons of the desert with the same sun darkened skins and hooked noses. Then as he looked closer he spotted two barely discernable distinguishing marks.  While they both had the hooded eyes of a pair of hawks, the left eyelid of the one facing Tuti drooped a fraction lower than the other. As to the one facing him, his right earlobe was split vertically as if someone in the past had torn out an earring with great force. The observations wouldn’t be of any use in the upcoming fight, but it served to occupy his mind until it was time to step into the ring.

 ‘Right boys, now is the time to put everything I taught you into practice and Amun will guide your arm,’ said Ayi, as he nodded to Khety at the other side of the rings. As one, the opponents stepped into the rings facing each other. Weapon wise they were evenly matched each man armed with a battle-axe, to maim and a dagger to kill. In such a situation only the skill of the wielder would carry the day and yet each man believed he had the skill to win through.

As the order to begin was called and opponents squared up, the crowd surged forward pushing and shoving to get the best spots behind the guards surrounding the rings. 

In ring one, Abba was taken on the back foot as the Nubian charge straight at him hoping for a quick kill. But he recovered in time and the crushing blow barely scraped the skin from his upper arm as he spun away. The Nubian however had barely started and came back at him immediately and Abba was forced to stop another overhead blow with the shaft of his axe. Arm numbed by the blow he danced away trying to hold onto the shaft with nerveless fingers. For the next few minutes he back-pedalled manically around the ring, giving his arm the chance to recover and at the same time weighing up his opponents method of attack. The Nubian like most powerfully built men, relied on brute strength to overcome his opponents and so attacked again and again, wearing them down. Abba had the strength to match him but that wouldn’t be enough, he could carry the attack to his opponent and they could trade blows and wounds all day without a satisfactory outcome and that just wouldn’t do.  He decided to end the fight and end it now. As the Nubian came at him again he swapped the axe to the other hand ducked beneath a blow that was meant to take off his head, drove his axe into the Nubians side, chopped into the back of his neck as he double over, and finished him off with his knife.  It all happened so fast that the crowd who had been jeering him for backing away a moment ago, fell silent, before bursting into an excited babble of amazement.

In the next ring Tuti and Droop eye circled each other warily both were wounded, droop eye with a wound to his upper arm and Tuti with a raking slash running diagonally across his chest. Neither of the wounds was serious, but they served to teach each a grudging respect for the other. Droop eye sprang forward feigning a right handed, over head blow with the axe and as Tuti raised his axe in defence, Droop eye swept his knife in from the left intent gutting him where he stood. Tuti leaped back and the knife left a thin line across his belly that welled with blood. This second cut made him realise that if he was to survive the fight he must use what he had been taught to turn the tables on his opponent.  As the next axe blow descended he dance away and as droop eye attempted the same slashing move again he slipped to one side and danced back in to stab forward into droop eye’s kidney. The shock and pain of the blow doubled Droop eye over and threw him backwards at the same time. He tried to recover but his momentum was such that he was flung mortally wounded from the ring and dispatched by a spear thrust from one of the guards.

Hann and Split ear in ring three, were evenly matched and Hann, the only one of the trio to fully remember all he had been taught by commander Ayi, had spent the last fifteen minutes in weighing up his opponents method of attack. He had feigned, stabbed, attacked and retreated and every move he had made had been countered by Split ear, but all the time he had watched and he had learned.  Now he believed he was ready and moved in raining blows on his opponent, who as expected countered each move, then pulling back a little he waited for Split ear to signal his intentions. He had observed that before the Libyan began to draw back his arm for an overhead blow his eyes flickered to the expected point of impact on the upper body and for a split second as his arm went back his chest and throat were exposed.  The eyes flicker the arm went back and Hann darted in and rammed his knife at angle under the Libyans chin and up into his brain. Slit ear dropped like a sack and lay still. Hann turned and left the ring sickened, it was one thing to kill in the heat of the moment on a battlefield, but it was another to kill a man face to face in cold blood.

Pushing his way through the crowd, every man of whom seemed to be vying to pat him on the back,  he made his way to where Tuti and Abba stood next to commander Ayi.

 ‘Another one with a gloomy face,’ said Ayi. ‘ What is the matter with you all? You’ve gotten what you asked for and if you are feeling guilty over the men you have killed. Don’t. The Libyans were due to be executed three days ago and according to commander Khety, the Nubian would follow soon. So now why don’t we get those wounds seen to and then go and get something to drink?’

After their wounds were dressed commander Ayi led them out to The Golden Palm and after sharing a couple of glasses of wine with them, he left claiming a prior engagement with commander Khety. Needless to say they got roaring drunk and when the passed out, Ayi had arranged for under commander Huy and a squad of men to carry them back to the barracks.

A few days later they left the oasis behind and two weeks after that arrived back to the palace, where with great ceremony the Pharaoh presented each of them with a gold chain of valour. Three months later, on his eighteenth birthday Hanno said goodbye to his Friends Tutimaios and Abados and returned to his family home in the island city-state of Tyre.

The Saltshaker Wars

‘Back, back, get back!’ Commander Thompson screamed at the top of his voice. He was barely able to hear himself over the roar of the crowd advancing towards them, and he was unsure that his men could hear him either. The bricks and petrol bombs that had been raining down on them, had if anything increased in the last few minutes and with half the men down they were finding it hard to maintain position.

Normally when facing a mob of this size they would have been reinforced or would have long ago retired to a fortified position to the rear. But they were the last of the troops on the ground and there was no reinforcements or fortified position to fall back on. The town like so many others had done in the past, was about to fall to the rioters and they were the rearguard, left behind to hold back the mob. The rest of what was left of the army had withdrawn, hopefully to fight another day.

The Commander screamed again for his men to move back and this time he was heard. The men began to back up one step at a time and slowly the gap between the thin kaki line and the rioters, opened up. But not for long, the braying crowd surged forward as one, and the troops knowing that they could not hold them, broke and ran. Not that it did them any good; they were clubbed to the ground and kicked to death where they lay.

As the commander lay dying he cursed the nameless official that brought it all about. Who would believe that a saltshaker would be the final straw the turned ordinary peace loving citizens into ravening mobs, bent on throwing off the yoke of both local and national government.

The saltshakers might have sparked the riots off, but the causes of unrest within the population went back a lot further. Back in fact to the time when people belatedly began to think that Orwell’s vision of an all-observing, totalitarian government, portrayed in his book ‘Nineteen Eighty Four’ was looking not so much a piece of fiction, but more of a miss timed prophesy.

This was confirmed when streets formerly free to park in, were planted with bandits on poles that had be fed with hard cash and were policed by yellow capped vultures that descended on the tardy motorist to strip his or her pockets to the bone. And if they should escape the vultures they would have their vehicle immobilised or towed and held to ransom by licensed pirates. If this wasn’t bad enough spying CCTV cameras were erected on street corners and speed camera were built at the sides of the roads. The people were told that they were there to keep them safe, but doubted this explanation, as crime figures continued to rise and they saw the speed cameras being placed in many cases not in accident black spots, but on roads that would garner the most loot for central government.

Next came the smoking ban to be followed by the drinking ban, to be followed by the chewing gum ban and by the picking your nose ban. These were followed by hundreds of petty restrictions introduced by the nanny state. Admittedly the first two were bad for people’s health, the third was hard to remove from pavements and the last one was pretty disgusting. But the rest were an abomination and the ordinary folks began to wonder just what had happened to their freedom of choice. They also had a horrible nagging feeling at the back of their minds that maybe breathing would be rationed, along with the amount of space they were allowed to use in the dustbins.

But the breaking point came when the powers that must be obeyed decided that the masses were using too much salt and it had to be stopped. They removed all the seventeen holed saltshakers from the kebab houses and chip shops and replaced them with five-holed, versions. But the people weren’t having that and began