wilbursmith_warlock-第109部分

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　helmet　sitting　high　on　the　bandages　that　were　wound　around　his　injured　head。
　　
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　　Socco　was　not　only　quartermaster　general　of　the　armies　of　the　false　pharaohs　with　the　rank　of　Best　of　Ten　Thousand；　but　he　was　also　an　adept　of　the　Red　Road。　He　was　able　to　give　Nefer　the　exact　tally　of　all　the　enemy　fighting　chariots　and　transport　wagons；　and　where　they　were　deployed。　From　memory　he　drew　up　a　list　of　the　numbers　of　horses　and　bullocks　in　depots　of　the　delta；　and　the　latest　inventory　of　weapons　stored　in　the　armouries。
　　
　　'Trok　and　Naja　have　taken　almost　the　last　serviceable　fighting　chariot　with　them　on　the　expedition　to　the　east。　There　are　less　than　fifty　left　in　Egypt；　in　either　the　Upper　or　Lower　Kingdom。　The　military　workshops　at　Avaris；　Thebes　and　Aswan　are　working　day　and　night；　but　every　chariot　they　turn　out　is　sent　immediately　along　the　road　to　Beersheba　and　Mesopotamia。'
　　
　　'Horses　we　now　have；　thanks　to　Pharaoh's　bold　stroke　at　Thane；　even　though　most　are　young　and　unbroken；　but　we　cannot　fight　a　campaign　without　chariots；'　said　Hilto　gloomily。　'We　cannot　seize　what　does　not　exist；　and　all　the　gold　now　in　the　royal　treasury　cannot　buy　a　single　squadron。'
　　
　　While　they　had　been　away　from　Gallala　on　the　great　horse　raid；　Hilto　had　brought　in　the　remaining　gold　from　the　caches　along　the　eastern　highway。　There　was　over　three　lakhs　of　the　precious　metal　in　the　ancient　cisterns　under　the　city　of　Gallala。　He　went　on；　'Soon　Trok　must　hear　of　our　successes。　He　will　realize　that　we　have　bee　a　real　threat。　As　soon　as　he　has　captured　Babylon；　he　will　divert　part　of　his　army　to　attack　us　here。　If　he　sent　only　a　hundred　chariots；　we　could　not　stand　against　them　in　our　present　state。'
　　
　　When　all　the　others　had　had　their　say；　Nefer　stood　to　address　the　council。　He　did　not　speak　long。　'Socco；　you　train　the　horses　for　me；'　he　said。　'Taita　and　I　will　find　the　chariots。'
　　
　　'That；　Majesty；　will　take　a　minor　miracle；'　said　Socco　gloomily。
　　
　　'Be　not　so　parsimonious；　Master　of　a　Thousand　Chariots。'　Nefer　smiled　at　him。　'How　can　we　make　good　your　title　with　only　a　minor　miracle？　Let　us　put　our　faith　in　a　major　one。'
　　
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　　Taita　stood　on　the　black　rock　outcrop。　Around　him　the　sand　dunes　stretched　away　to　the　limit　of　the　eye。　From　the　base　of　the　rock　a　hundred　men　watched　him；　puzzled　but　intrigued。　The　fame　of　the　Magus　was　as　boundless　as　the　desert　in　which　they　found　themselves。　All　of　them　were　warriors　who　had　e　to　Gallala　of　their　own　accord；　forsaking　the　false　pharaohs　to　offer　their　allegiance　to　Nefer　Seti。　That　allegiance　was　wearing　a　little　thin；　for　here　they　found　themselves　without　weapons　or　chariots；　and　daily　there　were　fresh　rumours　that　either　Trok　or　Naja　or　both　were　on　the　march　to　seek　vengeance　for　their　desertion。
　　
　　Pharaoh　Nefer　Seti　stood　beside　the　Warlock　on　the　pinnacle　of　rock。　They　were　in　deep　discussion。　Occasionally　one　or　the　other　would　gesticulate　or　point　out　towards　the　west；　where　there　was　nothing　to　see　but　sand；　sand　and　more　sand。
　　
　　They　waited　patiently　through　the　heat　of　the　day。　Not　one　expressed　disenchantment　or　disbelief　for　they　were　all　in　awe　of　Taita。　As　the　shadows　in　the　hollows　of　the　dunes　deepened　to　purple；　that　ill…assorted　pair；　young　monarch　and　ancient　Magus；　came　down　from　the　pinnacle　and　walked　out　into　the　dunes。　Without　any　apparent　purpose　the　Warlock　wandered　back　and　forth　along　one　of　the　dune　faces。　He　stopped　at　intervals　and　made　strange；　esoteric　gestures　with　his　long　staff；　then　went　on　again　with　Pharaoh　and　his　officers　following　him。
　　
　　At　last　in　the　gathering　dusk　the　Magus　planted　his　staff　in　the　soft　sand　and　spoke　quietly　to　Pharaoh　Nefer　Seti。　Now；　suddenly；　they　were　all　galvanized　by　the　shouted　orders　of　the　officers。
　　
　　Twenty　men　ran　forward　carrying　the　digging　tools　with　which　they　had　been　issued。　Under　the　direction　of　Hilto　and　Meren；　and　under　the　daunting　eyes　of　their　king　and　the　Magus；　they　began　to　dig。　When　the　hole　was　shoulder　deep　the　loose　sand　ran　back　into　it　almost　as　fast　as　they　shovelled　it　out；　and　they　were　forced　to　redouble　their　efforts　to　make　any　gains。　The　heads　of　the　diggers　sank　slowly　below　the　level　of　the　surrounding　earth；　until　abruptly　there　came　an　excited　shout　from　the　bottom　of　the　excavation。　Nefer　strode　forward　and　stood　on　the　lip。
　　
　　'There　is　something　here；　divine　Majesty。'　A　man　was　kneeling　in　the　bottom　of　the　hole；　and　he　looked　up　with　sweat　mixed　with　the　grit　that　coated　his　face　and　body。
　　
　　'Let　me　see。'　Nefer　jumped　down　and　pushed　the　man　out　of　the　way。　A　patch　of　hide　was　exposed；　still　covered　with　hair　but　hard　as　cedarwood。
　　
　　Nefer　looked　up　at　Taita。　'It　is　the　body　of　a　horse！'　he　called。
　　
　　'What　colour？'　Taita　asked。　'Is　it　black？'
　　
　　'How　did　you　know　that？'　Nefer　was　not　really　surprised。
　　
　　'Does　the　halter　carry　the　golden　cartouche　of　Pharaoh　Trok　Uruk？'　Taita　answered　his　question　with　another。
　　
　　'Dig　it　open！〃　Nefer　ordered　the　sweating　men　around　him。　'But　gently　now。　Do　no　damage。'
　　
　　They　worked　with　great　care；　using　their　bare　hands　to　sweep　away　the　sand。　Gradually　they　exposed　the　plete　head　of　a　black　horse　that　wore　on　its　forehead　the　cartouche　of　Trok；　embossed　on　a　gold　disc；　just　as　Taita　had　foreseen。
　　
　　Then　they　went　on　to　uncover　the　rest　of　the　carcass。　The　animal　had　been　wonderfully　preserved　by　the　hot　dry　sand。　The　embalmers　in　Thebes　would　have　difficulty　in　matching　what　the　desert　had　achieved。　Beside　it　lay　its　harness　mate；　another　stallion。　Nefer　recalled　how　he　had　last　seen　these　magnificent　animals　as　they　drew　Trok's　chariot　forward　under　the　louring　dustclouds　of　the　khamsin。
　　
　　By　this　time　night　had　fallen　and　the　workmen　lit　the　oil　lamps　and　placed　them　on　the　lip　of　the　excavation。　They　went　on　with　the　work　through　the　night。　The　dead　horses　were　unbuckled　from　the　traces　and　lifted　out。　Their　desiccated　carcasses　were　so　light　that　four　men　could　carry　them　with　ease。
　　
　　Then　they　recovered　the　harness。　It　was　in　a　perfect　state　of　preservation；　and　Nefer　set　his　grooms　to　work　immediately；　oiling　the　leather　and　polishing　the　gold　and　bronze　parts。
　　
　　Now　they　worked　back　to　the　chariot　itself　and　a　gasp　went　up　from　the　diggers　as　the　dashboard　was　cleared　of　the　engulfing　sand：　it　was　covered　with　gold　leaf；　and　gleamed　in　the　lamplight；　shooting　out　darts　of　light　that　pricked　their　eyes。　The　javelins　and　lances　were　still　in　their　bins　on　either　side　of　the　cockpit；　ready　to　the　hand　of　the　charioteer。　Each　weapon　was　a　work　of　art　in　itself；　the　lance　handles　laminated　for　strength　and　the　metal　heads　sharp　as　the　scalpels　of　a　surgeon。　The　arrows　had　been　made　by　Grippa　of　Avaris；　the　shafts　straight　and　true；　the　fletchings　dyed　crimson；　yellow　and　green；　the　royal　cartouche　carved　into　the　shaft。
　　
　　Trok's　great　war　bow　was　still　in　its　rack；　and　only　the　bowstring　needed　to　be　replaced。　Nefer　flexed　the　shaft　in　his　hands　and　wondered　if　he　had　the　strength　to　wield　it　in　battle。
　　
　　When　the　entire　chariot　had　been　uncovered　they　passed　ropes　under　the　chassis　and　lifted　it　out　of　the　excavation。　The　gold　leaf　had　been　beaten　so　thin　that　it　added　no　more　than　two　taels　to　the　total　weight　of　the　vehicle；　and　to　pensate　for　this　the　chassis　had　been　carved　from　dark　hard　woods；　hewn　in　the　sinister　rain…forests　far　to　the　south　of　Egypt's　borders。　These　timbers　were　more　resilient　than　the　finest　bronze；　but　light　and　tough。　They　could　be　fined　down　to　save　weight　without　sacrificing　strength。
　　
　　Now　it　was　morning；　and　the　sun　was　climbing　above　the　horizon。　Nefer　and　Taita　circled　the　chariot　as　it　gleamed　in　the　light。　It　was　so　sleek　and　graceful　that　it　seemed　already　in　motion。　Its　single　shaft　seemed　to　pine　like　a　lover　for　the　touch　of　two　proud　horses。　Nefer　stroked　the　gold　work。　It　was　smooth　as　a　lovely　woman's　skin　and　warm　beneath　his　hand。
　　
　　'It　seems　to　be　a　living　creature；'　he　breathed。　'Surely　there　was　never　a　more　magnificent　weapon　of　war　ever　c