Desert God. Wilbur Smith

to make out the reefs below the surface, and to find a safe passage through them.

      The closer we came to the many mouths of the Nile Delta the more certain I became of our position, until in the late afternoon we sailed past an estuarine mouth which was bounded on the east side by a low forested headland and on the west by an exposed mud-bank. On the headland facing the sea stood a rudimentary tower of mud-bricks that were painted with limewash. The roof of the tower had collapsed, as had most of the wall on the seaward side of the construction. However, enough of it was still standing for me to be certain that this was the navigational marker for the Tamiat channel, probably erected there by some long-dead Egyptian mariner.

      I ran to the foot of the single mast and clambered up it until I reached the sloping yard of the lateen sail. I wrapped my legs around it and hugged the mainmast. From this vantage I had a clear view inland and I immediately picked up the square outline of a man-made structure which just showed above the treetops far inland. Like the channel marker it also was painted with limewash. I was in no doubt at all that this was the watchtower of the Minoan trading fort and treasury which we were seeking. I slid back down the yard and as my feet hit the deck I shouted at the helmsman: ‘Put up your helm! Turn three points to starboard!’

      Zaras strode across to where I stood. ‘Yes?’ he asked. Usually he is genial and gregarious, but at a time such as this he becomes a man of quick decisions and even quicker reactions.

      ‘Yes!’ I agreed, and he gave a brief cold smile and a curt nod to the helm to confirm my order. We turned out towards the open sea. The other two galleys followed us around. Now we headed obliquely away from the shore. However, as soon as we passed the next headland and were screened from the surveillance of any sentry on the tower of the Tamiat fortress, I ordered another change of course. We headed back directly towards the labyrinthine swamps of the delta.

      I knew from my map where to find what looked to be a secure anchorage. We lowered the masts and laid them flat on the decks while we poled our way through the dense banks of papyrus and bulrushes into the sheltered lagoon that I had chosen. Here we were completely screened by dense vegetation. We anchored a boat’s length apart in the shallow murky water with our keels only just clear of the mud of the bottom. We were able to wade between the boats with the water at the deepest parts of the lagoon reaching only as high as our chins.

      While we watched the sun set and the moon rise, the men feasted on what remained of the smoked tuna steaks. Zaras waded quietly from galley to galley, selecting eight of his best men and warning them to be ready before sunrise the next morning to accompany us on a reconnaissance.

      An hour before dawn we crowded into two of the skiffs that we had towed behind the galleys. We paddled across the wide lagoon to the shore nearest the headland on which I had spotted the watchtower of the fort.

      I could hear the cries of swamp birds and the susurration of their wings passing over us in the darkness. As the light strengthened I could make out the long flighting lines of waterfowl and their arrowhead formations against the brightening sky. There were wild ducks and geese, storks, herons, cranes with long necks and trailing legs, ibis and egrets and fifty or more other species. They rose in huge flocks from the surface of the lagoon as we rowed through them. At last the sun pushed itself above the horizon and the vast expanses of the delta around us were revealed. It is a wild and desolate place, unfit for human habitation.

      We had to drag the skiffs through the shallows and hide them in the reeds when we at last reached firmer ground. I was uncertain of the layout of the fort and its surroundings so we groped our way through the dense stands of reeds and bulrushes ever more cautiously.

      Abruptly we came out upon the bank of a deep channel which cut through the papyrus beds from the south in the direction of the open waters of the Middle Sea. It was about 150 paces wide, and I could see that it was too deep to wade. On the opposite bank of the channel I was able to make out the flat roof of the watchtower we had spotted the previous day. The helmeted heads of at least three of the guards were showing above the parapet as they patrolled their beats.

      Suddenly I heard the unmistakable sounds of a moving vessel coming up the channel from the seaward direction of where we lay, and I cautioned my companions to silence. The creaking of the rigging, the voice of the seaman chanting the soundings in the bows and the thud of the oars in the rowlocks increased in volume until suddenly an enormous seagoing vessel appeared around the bend in the channel.

      I had never seen a ship of this type or size before; however, I knew from descriptions that my spies had sent me that this was a Cretan trireme. She was both a cargo vessel and a warship. She was triple-decked, with three banks of oars.

      Her long, pointed bows were reinforced with sheets of beaten bronze for ramming enemy ships. She had two masts, which would enable her to spread a goodly area of sail, although these were now furled as she threaded the narrow channel under oars. She was a lovely vessel, with long clean lines and a high transom. Looking at her it was not difficult to understand why Crete was the pre-eminent naval power of the world. This was the fastest and most powerful ship on all the seas. Even though she was heavily burdened and low in the water no other vessel could challenge her. Nevertheless I wondered what cargo she carried in her holds.

      As she drew level with where we lay hidden in the reed beds, I was able to study her officers. There were three of them in the stern, standing aside from the four crewmen who were manipulating the long steering-oar. Although the cheek-pieces of their armour masked most of their features they seemed to be taller and more robust than our average Egyptian. I could see that their kilts were of the finest linen and that their weapons were lovingly polished and engraved. These were more warriors than they were merchants.

      As she passed us the breeze wafted the stench of the ship to where we lay. I knew that her upper bank of long oars was rowed by her crew, who were fighting men more than they were beasts of burden. At an order from their captain they could jump up from the rowing bench and seize their weapons which lay at their feet. They would fight like men and share in the prize money.

      However, the lower banks of oars were pulled by slaves who were shackled to the deck timbers. The stench I smelled was that of these unfortunates who would live their whole lives on the benches. They would row, sleep, eat, defecate and ultimately die where they sat.

      The Cretan galley swept on past us and then we heard the shouted orders of her officers. The upper bank of oars rose from the water like the wings of a silver seagull as they were shipped, and only the lower banks continued dipping and pulling delicately as the ship turned into the final bend of the channel, heading towards the glistening white walls of the fortress which showed in the distance above the nodding heads of the papyrus banks.

      Then a most extraordinary event occurred; something for which I was completely unprepared. A second ship, almost identical in every respect to the first, rounded the bend of the channel and rowed past where we lay. She also was low in the water, carrying a weighty cargo.

      Then to my utter astonishment and delight a third heavily burdened trireme came down the channel and sailed past us. She followed her two sister ships towards the fort.

      I realized what had happened. Three months previously I had been informed by my agents that the three treasure ships were prepared to sail from the principal Cretan port of Aggafer. However, it had taken many months for this information to reach me. In the meantime the departure of the convoy must have been delayed by unforeseen circumstances, the most probable reason being unfavourable weather conditions. My agents had been unable to warn me timeously of this delay.

      I had expected to reach the Tamiat fort only long after the convoy had arrived, discharged its cargo and departed again on its return voyage to Aggafer.

      The chances of me arriving at Tamiat at exactly the same time as the treasure convoy was so remote that it must have been arranged by divine intervention. From an early age I have known that I am a favourite of the gods, particularly of the great god Horus to whom I pray. How else could I have been gifted from birth with so many talents and virtues? How else have I been able to survive so many terrible perils and mortal dangers that would certainly have destroyed any lesser being? How else have I been able to stay so young and handsome and my mind so sharp