A Long Time from Home Pt. 02 Ch. 02

I shook my head in wonder. It looked like Merneptah had taken my advice and made the archers the centre of his tactics this time, which meant that there was hope that we might win this. While that was good news for me and the rest of the Kumetians, it wasn't good for the Libyans.

The Sea People could run back to their ships, but the Libyans had been so convinced that they would win, that they had brought their families and belongings along, or at least enough of it to make their life comfortable once they had taken the land they were planning to. While that wasn't unusual for an invading army, it was also incredibly arrogant. In theory it would make the soldiers fight harder, because if they lost the battle their families would be captured by the enemy, but unfortunately, that wasn't how it had worked in the battles I had read about.

Once an army had its moral degraded to the point where the warriors ran away from the battle, there wasn't much rational thought left in them. They would ditch weapons and shields just to be able to run a little faster, even if that made them unable to protect themselves, and any thought of family was gone from their minds.

If I were them, I would be praying to whatever Gods they had, I determined and looked up as the trumpets sounded again. The battle had just started, and it was way too early to think about the fate of the enemy's family.

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The two lines of footmen clashed with the sound of metal meeting metal and the screams of the wounded. This close, the Kemetian archers couldn't hit the enemy lines and had to resort to launching arrows at any reinforcements.

That hadn't stopped the Sea People from utilizing their heavier armor and shields to cause a lot of trouble, as they fought more disciplined than I had thought possible. The Kemetian line were pressed backwards, giving ground to the amassed people in front of them slowly but surely, causing some of the Sea People to howl with glee and throw themselves into the combat with renewed energy.

From my position less than two hundred cubits away, but on higher ground, the situation didn't look as good for the Sea People as they thought. Instead of winning, the Sea People were falling into a trap. The centre of the Kemetian line did give ground, but at the same time the edges moved slower, and the end of the formation stood their ground, essentially tempting the Sea People into a pocket where they would be surrounded on three sides. Already a reserve was moving up from behind to reinforce our lines and...

A flash of colour caught my eye and as I looked an Kemetian officer stumbled away from the line, blood running from a deep cut in his weapon arm and another in his leg. That by itself wasn't anything special, but this officer was wearing the colours of the Pharaoh on top of his armor, meaning that he was part of the royal family.

With a sigh, I commanded the two armsmen Merneptah had given to me as protection to stay by the tent and started running towards the wounded officer. I had almost covered the distance, when a small group of Sea People broke through the Kemetian line, going after him. That was the trouble of wearing distinctive colours. It might tell your own troops that you were in command, but it also told any half-competent enemy whom they needed to kill to handicap the enemy.

Two Kemetian soldiers discovered what was going on and hastened to help their officer, but while they succeeded in slowing down the group of Sea People, they were soon cut down and the group fell upon the wounded officer, a pair with heavy armor and shields leading the assault. The officer managed to parry a blow with his shield, but his movements were sluggish, and I doubted that he would last long against five determined warriors.

Still running I activated an Ars Mentalis power that made me stronger and then threw a bronze dagger with each hand before I drew my sword. The two warriors fighting the wounded officer fell backwards as the daggers pierced first their leather armors and then their chests, but at the same time, the officer fell to the ground.

Sliding the last few meters on the rubble, I dodged under a sword attack, taking the warrior's leg off with my own sword, while I parried an attack against the wounded officer with the scabbard, and ended up between the officer and the remaining three warriors.

Their eyes widened, as they suddenly found themselves facing a tall, blue-eyed man, wielding a sword that looked nothing like the Kemetian Khopesh.

Instinctively I entered the state of Mutatur Tempus Mente (Baylon: "Time shall be changed in the mind.") without even thinking about it. My brain accelerated and everything else slowed to a crawl, including the warriors in front of me as they overcame their initial surprise and went on the attack.

Driven by Ars Mentalis enhanced muscles and a technique that had been honed by decades of training and combat, the razor-sharp Adamant blade of my sword went through shields, leather armor, flesh, and bone with ease, as I cut them down before they had a chance to come near the wounded officer.

A quick look around told me that there were no more people attacking me, so I quickly examined the wounded officer. To my relief he was still alive and had just passed out, so I hurriedly bandaged his two major wounds. They didn't seem serious enough to cause him to pass out and I suspected that he had more wounds under the armor. Unfortunately, it was a leather tunic reinforced with bronze lamellar, and while it was quite effective in stopping attacks, it also stopped me from examining the body under the armor.

Fortunately, the trick I had used to enhance my muscles was still working, and with a sigh, I placed the sword in the belt again, lifted the officer up on my shoulder and walked back to my tent.

The guards were looking at me wide-eyed as I returned, but one of them, a middle-aged soldier named Ramose, had the presence of mind to hold the tent door open, so I could get inside easier.

I nodded a thanks to him and looked at the other as I walked past. "Kheti, get one of the assistant healers from the main tent over here as fast as possible."

Being given an order seemed to wake him up and he set off in a run, while I walked to the table and placed the wounded officer on it.

"Can I do anything, sir?" Asked Ramose, causing me to nod. "Help me get his armor off. I suspect it hides a wound."

He came over to help and together we got the heavy bronze armor off, revealing a wound into the side of the stomach, where a dagger or something similar had penetrated both armor and flesh.

That made me curse. Stab wounds in that area were always difficult to treat, especially if the gut was ruptured. Placing my hand on his stomach, I sent my senses into his body. To my pleasant surprise the wound had not hit any major organs and it seemed mostly superficial in nature. That still left the mystery of what had made him pass out, but a quick search through the body showed that it was a combination of heat exhaustion and blood loss.

Retracting my senses, I breathed a sigh of relief. With just a little ordinary healing, the wounded officer was going to be alright.

The sight that met me when I opened my eyes was extremely pleasant, as I was looking directly down the cleavage of two well-shaped breasts, only covered by cotton so thin that it was transparent and framed by the strap of a dress that also covered the nipples.

I let my gaze slide upwards, over the smooth olive skin, encountering an elegant neck, a well-formed mouth, a cute little nose, and large almond-shaped brown eyes in a face that was pretty, without being beautiful. The most surprising part was that the face was framed by dark red hair that fell to her shoulders, curling as it did so.

In short, she looked a lot like Tia Magnus and with that red hair, I had no doubt that Ramesses was her father. Of course being a person with a healthy sexual appetite and access to a harem of good-looking women that lived only to serve him, Ramesses had fathered more than a hundred children and many of the oldest ones, like Khaemweset, had died from old age before Ramesses.

However, there was nothing old about the woman standing on the other side of the wounded officer and unless I missed my guess, I was looking at Neferure (Kemetian: Beauty of Re), the last daughter of Ramesses to be born in the Royal Palace at Pi-Ramesses. Her mother had been one of the many princesses sent to the court of Ramesses as part of trade- or peace agreements.

Not being a child of one of the Great Royal Wives, she had little influence in the complex hierarchy that was Kemetian court politics and according to Tia Magnus, who had been a member of the same court, it was for that reason, she had become an acolyte. A quick look at the jewellery she wore confirmed that, as it depicted a lion headed goddess. However, it wasn't Bastet, but Sekhmet. Another lion headed and a sister of Bastet, Sekhmet was, as all feline gods and goddesses, a warrior goddess, but where Bastet was the Goddess of sex and everything connected to that, like pregnancy and childbirth, Sekhmet was the Goddess of medicine.

I bowed slightly. "Greetings, acolyte. I hope that you're here to help."

"I am, healer. Your armsman said that you needed help."

I nodded and explained that I needed somebody to hold together the edges of the wounds, while I sewed them together, after I had washed them with the usual honey-and-alcohol mix, that would kill off any infections.

Just as I had finished the explanation, a female voice said. "Do as he says, acolyte. He's blessed by Maahes, Bastet and Sekhmet, and knows what he is doing."

Blinking in surprise, I looked in the direction of the voice and discovered that Neferure hadn't come alone. Near the entrance to the tent stood a Priestess of Bastet, easily recognized by her loose fitting and revealing clothes, that resembled an embroidered version of a traditional dance costume. The body beneath the cloth was toned and muscular without being bulky and she had the spectacular legs of a dancer.

She looked familiar but took me a few heartbeats to realize that it was Nofret. The acolyte of Bastet that I had bought off a slave trader in Alashiya and later freed. Apparently, she had become a Priestess since then.

I bowed again. "Hello again, Nofret... or should I say Priestess?"

Her face split in a wide smile, and I noticed that while she was older now, she was just as good-looking as she had been fourteen years ago.

"For you, Nofret will do just fine."

I smiled at her and nodded, before I looked at the redheaded beauty in front of me. "Oh, by the way, do you have any idea who we're healing?"

She nodded shortly. "Yes, that's Prince Userpehti."

I shrugged slightly. A pharaoh as old as Merneptah had a dozen princes, with many of them being in the army as commanders and the name didn't tell me anything, as it wasn't one of those in line for the throne. "Thank you. Now give me the green bottle over there on the table and let's get this done."

As always, cleaning and sewing the wounds together took a lot longer than causing them, but by the time I had placed the last bandages, the sun was still up and it had become even warmer than it was when I started.

"Will he live?" Asked Neferure with a slight edge to her voice.

"Yes, he will." I said firmly. "It was just superficial wounds. The armor took most of it."

"Including the stomach wound?"

"Yes, also that." I looked at Ramose. "Water, please."

He nodded and handed me a jug of water. It was lukewarm, but with the heat it felt wonderfully refreshing.

"How's the battle going?"

"We're winning." He answered and from the side, Nofret added. "Our bowmen are slaughtering them, and the footmen stop them whenever they advance."

"Good." I said as I placed the jug back on the table. "Then perhaps we will have peace for the next thirty years or so."

"You think they'll be back then?" Asked Nofret, as she rose from the pillow she had been sitting on.

"If, or rather when, they lose here, they'll remember it for about a generation." I said with a shrug of the shoulders. "When the next generation grow up, they will have forgotten it and attack again. Especially if the kingdom is weakened in some way."

Neferure snorted. "Kemet is never going to be weak."

Laughing, I looked over at Nofret. "It seems like your acolyte is in need of some history lessons."

"I think you're right." Nofret agreed and walked gracefully towards me. Her clothes doing little to disguise the fact that her dancer's body was as trim as it had been fourteen years ago. Then she hugged me, followed by a sizzling kiss so filled with lust, that it gave me a hard-on even under these circumstances.

She felt it and pressed her body against mine for a moment before she broke the kiss and whispered. "I've missed you, Avatar of Maahes. Can I see you tonight?"

"If the Pharaoh wills." I whispered back. "Otherwise, come visit me in my home in Men-nefer."

"Deal." She said with a grin and let go of me just as the tent was opened and two men with a stretcher between them came in, followed by a small group of soldiers.

Looking at the wounded man on the stretcher, I sighed. It was Prince Senusret and from the look of it, he was gravely wounded.

"No rest for the healers." I told Neferure and ordered the soldiers to take Prince Userpehti to the Royal Camp, so we could focus on Prince Senusret, who was still conscious and moaning in pain. As it looked like he had been hit by arrows hard enough to throw him off his chariot and subsequently dragged over the rough ground behind it, that was quite understandable.

I fed him some poppy juice to ease his pain and then looked at Neferure. "Let's go to work."

She looked at me in surprise. "You think we can save him?"

"Yes."

She nodded, but her facial expression was doubtful as she said. "I'll get some slaves in here with fans. It'll only get warmer from now on."

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So, while the battle raged outside, Neferure and I fought our own battle against the Goddess of Death or Anubis as the God of Death was named in Kemet, removing broken arrows, setting broken bones, and sewing wounds together, trying to save the prince's life. In the end, we were successful, but for a long time it was touch and go, and I had to restart his heart twice with rhythmic pressure to his chest before he became stable enough to survive.

Closing the last bandage, I looked up at Neferure, who was standing to one side of the stretcher, enjoying the flow of air provided by three fan-wielding slaves, while she looked at me closing the bandage.

When we had started operation, she had looked calm and collected, but after hours of healing her curly red hair was wet, her smooth olive skin had taken on a glistening sheen of sweat and the thin cotton dress clung to her body revealing the graceful curves and contours beneath the fabric. In short, she looked both sexy and alluring.

When Neferure saw me looking at her, she bowed slightly. "Well done, Healer Ivah. I am sorry I doubted your ability to heal Prince Senusret."

"Not a problem." I replied and accepted the jug of water Ramose handed me. I also realized that the distant sound of combat had disappeared and smiled. "From the lack of combat noises, I assume that we won."

"Yes, sir." He said with a wide smile. "While you were healing, our infantry held them off while our bowmen killed the majority of them. Then the King in his wisdom ordered a final great charge of the chariots, supported by the infantry, and succeeded in routing the enemy."

"Good." I looked over as a group of Royal Guards entered the tent, followed by the Captain of the Amen army group, easily identifiable by his armor and helmet.

I bowed slightly. "Greetings, Captain. What can I do for you?"

He nodded to me. "Greetings, healer. I'm here to transport Prince Senusret to the royal camp."

"I'm sorry, Captain, but that is not a good idea. Prince Senusret is not stable enough to be moved yet. If you try, he might die."

For a moment, I was sure he would object, but he surprised me by nodding and saying, "Then we shall wait." He saw my expression and smiled. "I was a Royal Guard during Ramesses and I was there when you healed him. He was carried into Prince Khaemweset's house a cripple and walked out on his own two feet. I'm not going to argue against any medical judgement you make."

"Thank you." I said with a chuckle and looked at Ramose again. "Could you find something to eat for the acolyte and I?"

"Yes, sir."

So, we waited, while I checked the prince from time to time. It was boring, but the Guard Captain filled us in on the aftermath of the battle. No less than six thousand of the enemy had been killed, while nine thousand had been captured, and the rest were on the run pursued by the Kemetian Chariots and light Infantry.

As I had expected, the Libu had abandoned their baggage and dependents, as they ran for their lives. Those had been captured as well and would be brought back to Kemet as slaves. Not exactly a great life, but better than getting killed on the spot as so many others would have done.

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As it turned out, the Pharaoh's will did come in the way between Nofret and me, but mostly because when it was time to move the prince to the royal camp, the Captain insisted that I came along, so I could join the victory feast.

Since that was considered an honour, there was no way I could avoid going, so I spent the rest of the evening and half the night eating, drinking, and listening to the officers telling stories about their heroic acts in the battle.

I was talking with Huy, the Captain that had visited me in the tent, when a Royal Servant approached us, bowing as he said. "I'm sorry to interrupt the pleasant evening, but are these... " He held out two bronze throwing knives. "... yours by any chance?"

"Ah... yes." I said with a smile, as I recognized the two knives, I had used against the Sea people warriors. In the hurry to get Prince Userpehti back to the tent for healing, I had forgotten all about them. Not that they were indispensable, since I could make new ones, but having them back saved me a lot of work.

The Royal Servant handed me the knives and I accepted them, placing them in the empty scabbards in my belt.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure, sir." He said with another bow and walked away again.

"May I ask how a healer lost two knives during a battle?" Asked Captain Huy with a drunk grin.

Looking around, I lowered my voice. "Only if you promise not to tell others."

"That I can promise."

Drinking from my cup, I said. "I was watching the combat from outside the tent, when I spotted Prince Userpehti stagger away from the line, so I ran to get him. However, a group of Sea People soldiers came after him, so I had to kill them before I could get the prince back to the tent." I shrugged. "The two first were a little too close to the prince and as he fell down, I took them down with my throwing knives, and the rest with my sword. Unfortunately, I forgot the knives in my hurry to get the Prince to the tent."

He laughed drunkenly but kept his voice low as he chuckled. "One of the Priestesses of Bastet claim that you're an avatar of Maahes. I can understand why now." He paused and then asked. "Did the prince see it?"

I shrugged lightly. "I don't know. I was occupied by the Sea People at the time, but when I went to examine him, he had passed out."

"Why haven't you told anybody about this?"

"Politics." I simply said. "I'm from the line of Horemheb and Merneptah is old. I have no wish to become involved in some dynastic feud once the mortal shell of Ra leaves us. As most other people in this country I value stability and security, especially with the Sea People running rampant and burning down cities left and right."