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e stragglers from behind。
Nefer squinted into the first rays of the sun； and called to Shabako； 'Keep them headed up and moving。 I am going back to see if Socco and his men are after us yet。'
As he rode back； Nefer singled out Meren and three others； all skilled with javelin and sword。 He signalled to them and they galloped up to join him。 'If they are after us； we should try to change their minds for them。'
Nefer led them along their back trail； and at a point where the rock defile narrowed they left the three troopers to hold their horses； and he and Meren climbed the steep rock…strewn slope。
By the time they reached the top the sun was clear of the horizon； but had not yet dissipated the cool of the night and the dust and heat…haze had not built up。 The land glowed with that peculiar lambency of the desert dawn。 Each distant detail of rock and dune； cliff and gnarled tree； was etched with breath…stopping beauty。
'There！' said Nefer。 Meren's eyes were sharp； but his were more so。 'Ten riders。' Meren tried to hide his chagrin at not finding them first。 'Eleven；' Nefer corrected him； and he did not argue。 Instead he grinned delightedly。 'Fair odds to our five。'
'We will take them there。' Nefer pointed down into the gorge。 'There； where it narrows。 We don't want them to carry back their news to Avaris。 There must be no survivors。'
'That suits me above all things。' Meren laughed。 They waited among the boulders； standing by the heads of their horses； hands over their nostrils to prevent them whickering or snorting and springing the trap prematurely。 In the middle of the gap； Nefer had placed a leather bag； that had earlier contained captured jackals。 It was now stuffed with their cloaks； which were no longer needed in the rising morning warmth。
Their heads went up as； from lower down the gorge； they heard the click of hoof against stone and the rattle of a dislodged pebble。 Nefer looked across the open ground to where Meren and one of the other men were hidden on the far side of the defile。 He held up his left hand with fingers spread。 The signal for silence and vigilance。 His father had taught him that hand signals were always preferable to spoken mands； especially in the heat of battle when they might be lost and drowned in the tumult； or in situations when stealth was paramount。
Now he picked out other small sounds； loud in the great silence of the sands： the creak of tackle and the rattle of arrows in quivers。 Nefer glanced around the boulder that hid him and two of his troopers。 A scrubby growth of bottlebrush broke up the silhouette of his head。
A rider appeared in the mouth of the gorge； and halted his horse as he saw the leather bag lying in the path。 He looked around carefully and the rest of his troop crowded up behind him。 Even under the crocodile…skin helmet Nefer recognized Socco； and his back itched where the whip had raised a bloody welt。
Time to return a favour； he thought grimly。 Socco took his time； an old soldier； wary and suspicious。 Then he walked his horse forward and the others followed him。 They halted in a tight group； all leaning out and staring down at the bag。 Socco grunted an order； 'Steady now！ Watch my back；' and swung down from his horse。 He stooped over the bag； and Nefer gave the mand； a chopping motion with his raised left hand。
The throwing thongs were wrapped around every one of their right wrists and the range was point…blank。 They threw as one man； and because Hilto and Shabako had trained them to perfection no two picked the same target。 Five javelins buzzed like enraged bees； and struck where no armour could deflect them； three in the throat and two in the back of the neck。 Five men toppled from horseback； and fell under the hoofs of their startled steeds。
Nefer and his men burst from ambush at the gallop； swords drawn and screaming their war…cry； 'Horus and Seti！'
The survivors of that first murderous flight of javelins turned instinctively to meet them but did not have time to clear their swords from the scabbards before they crashed into them； their horses trained to charge in chest to chest。 Two more of Socco's horses were taken off…balance and dashed off their feet； throwing their riders。 Nefer picked the nearest man； who was still mounted； and killed him with a thrust to the throat。 Now Socco cleared his sword and thrust up at Nefer's belly。 Nefer turned the blow and his horse reared and lashed at Socco with both hoofs； one of which struck him a solid blow。 He was thrown sprawling into the sand。 Before Nefer could finish him another of the enemy rode at him； sword lifted high。 Nefer rode in under the stroke and engaged him； cut and parry； as they milled and shouted； struggling at close quarters。
Socco's men had only just rallied from the first shock when Meren chose his moment perfectly and led the trooper with him in a furious charge into the melee。 He sent a thrust to the heart and yelled in triumph。 Then immediately he reversed his blade and killed again； a cut across the neck。 His victim slid down on to the earth with his head half severed from the trembling jerking trunk。
Socco had lost his helmet and his sword and crawled desperately on his knees to try to retrieve the weapon。 He was the only one of all his men still able to resist。 Nefer leaned out from his horse's back and aimed at the opening where his breastplate of crocodile…skin armour was fastened between his shoulder…blades； but at the last moment could not bring himself to drive home。 He changed his blow smoothly； rolling his wrist to present the flat of the sickle…shaped blade and cracked Socco across the back of his grizzled pate。 The man dropped face down in the sand。
Nefer glanced round to make certain that Meren had everything in hand。 Then slid off his horse to the ground just as Socco groaned； shook his head and tried to sit up。 Nefer slammed his heel into his adversary's chest and thrust him back； then placed the point of his sword at his throat。 'Yield； Socco； or I will send the news of your passing to your mother and all the one hundred stinking goatherds who had a hand in fathering you。'
Socco's dazed expression cleared and became a defiant glare。 'Let me reach my sword； puppy； and I will teach you how to lift your leg when you piss。' He was about to add more to the insult； when suddenly the bellicose light in his eyes faded。 He stammered wordlessly。 He was gawking at the cartouche on Nefer's thigh。
'Majesty；' he gasped。 'Forgive me！ Strike！ Take my worthless life as forfeit for those gross and stupid words of mine。 I heard the rumours that you still lived； but I had wept at your funeral and could not believe in such a miracle。'
Nefer smiled with relief。 He had not wanted to kill him…he was an attractive old rogue； and Hilto said that he was one of the finest horse…handlers in all the armies of Egypt。 Hilto should know。 'Will you swear the loyal oath to me as Pharaoh？' he demanded sternly。
'Gladly； for all the earth fears you in your name of Nefer Seti； beloved of all the gods； and light of this very Egypt。 My heart beats only for you and my soul will sing my duty to you until the hour of my death。'
Then； Socco； I promote you to Master of a Thousand Chariots； and Taita had best guard his title of Poet Laureate； for you turn a pretty phrase。'
'Let me kiss your foot； Pharaoh；' Socco pleaded。
'Give me your hand； rather；' Nefer said； seized his horny fist and pulled him to his feet。 ''Tis a pity about your men。' Nefer glanced at the corpses。 'If they had shared your loyal sentiments； they need not have died。'
'They died at the hand of a god；' Socco pointed out。 'There is no greater honour。 Besides； Taita the Warlock may be able to save the few who are still groaning and twitching。'
Three days later； when they rode into Gallala； they were droving nigh on four hundred horses； and Socco rode proudly at the right hand of his new pharaoh with his helmet sitting high on the bandages that were wound around his injured head。
* * *