Desert God. Wilbur Smith

I would have carts ready to trundle the chests across the wharf and into the gates of the fort.

      The Cretan slaves were manhandling each chest individually up the ladder from the bottom of the hold to the main deck. At this rate it would take several days to unload each ship.

      I was worried. I had not truly recognized the immensity of my own task until I saw it laid out before me. It was one thing to speak lightly of handling hundreds of lakhs of bullion, but it became entirely another matter when I was presented with the physical weight and bulk of such a treasure and the problem of seizing it and transporting it hundreds of leagues over sea and mountain and desert while being pursued by a vengeful army.

      I began to worry that I had taken on an impossible task, and thought dismally that perhaps the only solution if I was ever able to get my hands on such a vast cargo was to take it out into the deep waters of the Middle Sea and to dump it overboard where it would be forever beyond the reach of both King Beon and the Supreme Minos.

      Then I would flee with all my men who had survived the wrath of the Cretans back to the safety of Thebes. Perhaps the Supreme Minos could then be persuaded that King Beon was the culprit, but I doubted it.

      The solution did not come to me at once, and even I had to wrestle with the problem for almost an hour while Zaras and I lay there in the papyrus beds. Then suddenly the solution struck me like a thunderbolt. It was so ingenious that even I was stunned by the beauty of it.

      I thought I would explain it all to Zaras, but then I decided not to overpower him with something so simple and yet so devilishly complex.

      I looked up at the sun. It had reached its zenith some time ago and was already halfway down the sky again. I looked back at the trio of treasure ships and I think I grinned. I sensed that Zaras was watching me intently. I think he knew that I was on to something at last, and he was waiting eagerly for my orders, which I was not yet ready to reveal to him.

      ‘Enough!’ I told him. ‘We must go.’

      ‘Where to, Taita?’

      ‘Back to the boats. We have a great deal of work to do before nightfall.’

      The sun was setting when at last Zaras and I managed to swim and wade back to where we had left our three small boats in the lagoon. The men were overjoyed to see us again. I think they had convinced themselves that we had been discovered and killed by the enemy, leaving them leaderless and thrown back on their own limited resources. They scrambled to obey my orders.

      The first of the many challenges facing me was to get every single one of my heavily armed and armoured men, almost none of whom were able to swim, across the deep channels of the river to reach the fort.

      To this end I selected the smallest and lightest of our three boats. Then I made the men strip the ropes and other useful loose items from the remaining two hulls. I thought of burning these, but the Cretans would surely have seen the smoke and sent men to investigate it. Instead I ordered my men to knock the bottoms out of them and scuttle them in the deepest part of the lagoon.

      Then we dragged the single boat that I had selected through the shallow waters to the eastern bank of the lagoon, nearest the fort. From there I needed every single one of my men to manhandle it across the dry ground to the river channel. I ordered them to attach the anchor ropes that we had salvaged from the two scuttled boats to the bows of this one that we had retrieved.

      With a hundred men hauling on each rope the keel of the boat acted as a skid, and the hull slid readily enough over the papyrus stalks which were flattened beneath its weight. Nevertheless we had almost half a league of dry ground to cover before we reached the main channel of the river. By that time it was close to midnight and the waxing gibbous moon was high in the sky.

      I allowed the men a short time to rest on the river-bank, and to don their armour and to wolf down a cold meal. Then with muffled oars and carrying fifty men at each crossing we began to ferry them over the channel. When every one of them was across, I divided our little force into two groups.

      The larger group of 150 men I sent with Zaras to creep through the reed beds until they were as close to the main gate of the fort as possible without being in danger of discovery by the sentries. They were to conceal themselves there until they received my signal.

      Before we parted I explained to Zaras what I planned. I would row up the channel with a crew of fifty men. My intention was to attack and destroy the pontoon bridge which connected the main enemy camp to the island on which the treasury stood. Before we parted company I embraced Zaras briefly, and I repeated my orders to him so that there could be no misunderstanding.

      Then I sent him away, while I clambered on board the waiting galley and gave the order to my rowers to ply the oars. The current was swift and strong, but my men heaved away lustily and, hugging the bank of the channel furthest from the fort, we made good speed upstream. Soon we could see the limewashed tower of the fort gleaming in the moonlight. The sight encouraged my oarsmen to still greater effort.

      We came around the final bend in the channel and the fort lay before us. The three triremes were as I had last seen them, moored against the stone wharf. The moonlight was bright enough for me to make out that two of them were still riding low in the water; still fully laden with their cargoes of bullion. The third trireme was standing a little higher. Much of her cargo must have been unloaded. Nevertheless I estimated that she still had more than half her load of treasure chests in her holds.

      There were no Cretan sentries anywhere in sight. There were no lights showing aboard any of the great ships. However, there was a fire glowing at one end of the wharf and there were torches burning in brackets on each side of the gates of the fort.

      I lifted the bronze helmet from my head and placed it on my lap. Then I adjusted the bright yellow cloth that was knotted around my throat to mask the lower half of my face. This is an extraordinary type of cloth known as silk. It is extremely rare and worth a hundred times its own weight in silver. It comes from a land at the edge of the world, where it is spun not by men but by worms. It is possessed of magical powers. It can turn away evil spells and such diseases as the plague and the Yellow Flowers. However, now I used it simply to hide my face.

      My features are so distinctive that there is always a strong possibility that they will be recognized by either friend or foe. Beauty comes at a price. After that of Pharaoh himself my face is probably the best known in the civilized world, by which I mean Egypt. When I replaced my helmet I was faceless in the ranks of faceless men.

      As we rowed closer to the wharf the torch flames threw just sufficient flickering light for me to make out the blanket-wrapped forms of the sentries crouching close to the warmth of their watch fires.

      It was obvious to me that the Cretan officers had not wished to spend the night in the crowded fort with all their men. At nightfall they must have gone back across the bridge with the majority of their men to the comforts of their elaborate camp on the further bank of the channel. This suited my purpose well enough.

      Still keeping as far from the wharf as the channel allowed we rowed quietly past the moored galleys and the looming walls of the fort. As we left those behind I could make out ahead of us the row of longboats that formed the pontoon bridge strung out across the channel.

      We rowed on up the main channel until I judged we were at least two hundred yards upstream of the pontoon bridge. Then I turned our boat across the current and I aimed our bows at the centre of the long narrow pontoon bridge. I gave a quiet order to the rowers to stop heaving and to ship their oars, and we let the current run us down on the centre of the bridge.

      At the last moment I put the helm over and we turned broadside to the bridge and came to rest with our starboard side pressed by the current hard against the causeway.

      My men were ready for this. Two small groups of three men each jumped from the bows and stern of our ship and made her fast to the bridge. The rest of them armed with axes and swords swarmed over the ship’s side on to the pontoons. Without waiting for further orders they began to chop at the ropes that secured the line of longboats to each other.

      The sounds of the blows had certainly