If our troops hoped for time to rest when they arrived at Horemheb’s camp, they were to be sorely disappointed. If they believed he might commend them for their rapid march and for having worn the skin from their feet in the sand, they were indeed deluded. He received us with rage in his face; his eyes were bloodshot with weariness.
Swinging the golden whip, which was flecked with blood and dust, he said to us, “Where have you been loitering, dung beetles? Where have you skulked, you devils’ spawn? Truly I should rejoice to see your skulls whiten in the sand tomorrow; I am so filled with shame at the sight of you! You creep to me like tortoises; you smellof sweat and filth so that I am compelled to hold my nose, while my best men bleed from countless wounds and my noble horses pant their last. Dig now, you men of Egypt, dig for your lives! This is work most fitting for you who have dug all your lives in the mud.”
The raw warriors of Egypt were in no way resentful of his words but rejoiced at them and repeated them laughing to one another, having found protection from the terrifying wilderness in the mere presence of Horemheb. They forgot their flayed soles and parched tongues and began at his direction to dig deep trenches in the ground, to drive stakes between stones, to stretch rush ropes between these stakes, and to roll and drag huge stones down the slopes of the hills.
Horemheb’s weary charioteers crept out from their crannies and tents and limped up to display their wounds and boast of their prowess. Of the two thousand five hundred who had set out there remained not five hundred fit men.
The greater part of the army arrived at Horemheb’s encampment that day in an unbroken stream. Each man was sent immediately to dig trenches and build barricades, to keep the Hittites from the desert. He sent word to those exhausted troops that had not yet arrived that all must reach the fortified position in the course of that night. Any left in the desert at daybreak would die a fearful death at the hands of the enemy, should the chariots of these break through.
The courage of the Egyptians was notably strengthened at the sight of their own numbers in that empty wilderness, and they placed blind trust in Horemheb, confident that he would save them from the Hittites. But as they were building their barricades, stretching their ropes and rolling their rocks, they beheld the enemy approaching in a cloud of dust. With white faces and wavering glances they looked about them, in great dread of the chariots and their hideous scythes.
Night was drawing on, and the Hittites would not attack before they had surveyed the terrain or estimated the strength of their adversary. They pitched camp, tended their horses, and kindled fires. When darkness fell, the fringe of the desert was spangled with fires as far as the eye could see. All night long their scouts drove up to the barricades in light chariots, slaying guards and skirmishing along the whole front. Cut on either flank, where no barricades could be built, the ruffians of the free forces surprised the Hittites and captured their chariots and horses.
The night was loud with the thunder of wheels, the shrieks of the dying, the whine of arrows, and the clash of arms. The raw troops were sorely alarmed and dared not sleep. But Horemheb comforted them, saying, “Sleep, marsh rats, sleep! rest and smear your torn feet with oil, for I am watching over your slumbers, to guard you.”
I did not sleep; I walked about the camp all night, dressing the wounds of Horemheb’s charioteers, while he encouraged me, saying, “Heal them, Sinuhe, with all your arts. More valiant warriors the world has never seen; each of them is worth a hundred or even a thousand of those mud grubbers. Heal them, for I dearly love these scum of mine, and I have no trained men to put in their places.”
I was out of humor from the toilsome journey across the desert, although I had performed it in a chair. My throat was dry with the acrid dust, and I was enraged to think that because of Horemheb’s foolish obstinacy I must die at the hands of the Hittites, although death in itself held no terrors for me.
I said to him irritably, “I seek to heal these scum of yours purely for my own sake since to my mind they are the only men in the army capable of fighting. Those who came with me will fly as soon as they see the whites of enemy eyes. You would do well to pick out the swiftest horses and speed back with me to the Lower Kingdom, to muster a new and better army.”
Horemheb rubbed his nose and said, “Your counsel does honor to your wisdom. But we have no choice save to defeat the Hittites here in the desert. Defeat them we must, having no alternative. I shall now take my rest and shall drink. After drinking I am ever exceedingly ill tempered and fight well.”
He left me, and soon I heard the gurgling from his wine jar. He offered it to such men of his as passed, slapping them on the shoulder and hailing each by name.
So the night passed, and morning rose like a specter from the desert. Before the barricades lay dead horses and overturned chariots, and vultures were tearing out the eyes of Hittites who had died there. Horns sounded at Horemheb’s order, and he paraded his men at the foot of the slopes.
While the Hittites were smothering their fires with sand, harnessing their horses, and whetting their blades, Horemheb addressed his troops. He bit at a chunk of hard bread and an onion as he did so.
“Look before you, and you shall see a great marvel. Ammon has delivered the Hittites into our hands, and we shall do great things this day. The enemy foot soldiers have not yet come up; they remain at the edge of the desert because they lack water. The chariots must break through our lines and capture the water stores in our rear if the army xs to pursue its sttsc k on Egypt. Already their horses are thirsty and lack forage, for I have burned up their stores and smashed their water jars all the way from here to Syria. They must therefore either break through or retire unless they pitch camp to await fresh supplies, in which event they will be unable to engage us in battle. But they are greedy men, and they have invested all the gold and silver in Syria in those water jars that lie strung out behind us, full, all the way to Egypt. They will not give them up without a struggle. Thus Ammon has delivered them into our hands. When they attack, their horses will stumble and entangle themselves in our barriers. They cannot hurl their full force against us, for the trenches you have so diligently dug and the rocks and the ropes will break the edge of their assault.”
Horemheb spat out an onion skin and chewed the bread until the troops began stamping and shouting, like children eager for another story. Then Horemheb said, “My only fear is that in your feebleness you will let the Hittites slip through your fingers. Those rods you hold in your hands are spears whose points are designed to rip up the bellies of Hittites. To the bowmen I say: Were you true warriors and marksmen you would shoot out their eyes. But such counsels are vain. Aim at the horses, for these are bigger targets, and you could never hit the men who drive them. The nearer they come, the more certain will be your unskillful aim; I counsel you to let them come very near. I will flog with my own hands every man who wastes an arrow; we have not one to spare. And you, javelin throwers! When the horses approach, steady the butts of your spears against the ground with both hands and direct the points at the horses’ bellies. In this way you incur no danger and can leap aside before the animal falls on you. Should you be flung to the ground, hamstring them, for only that way can you avoid being crushed by the wheels. This is your task, you rats of the Nile.”