"Smith, Wilbur - [Egyptian 03] - Warlock(txt)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Wilbur)

short distance from where we now stand. His tents are set up just
beyond the first line of hills, yonder.' He pointed back with his drawn
sword.
‘Can you be certain it is Apepi?' Tamose could barely control his own
excitement.
‘I saw him clearly in the light of his campfire. Every detail of his
features. His great beaked nose and beard shot with silver shining in the
firelight. There is no mistaking such stature. He towers above all those
around him, and wears the vulture crown on his head.'
‘What is his strength?' Pharaoh demanded.
‘With his usual arrogance he has a bodyguard of less than fifty. I have
counted them, and half of them are asleep, their lances stacked. He
suspects nothing and his watchfires burn bright. A swift charge out of
the darkness and we will have him in our grasp.
‘Take me to where Apepi lies,' Pharaoh commanded, and leaped to
the footplate.
Naja led them, and the soft silvery sands of the wadi muffled the
sounds of the wheels, so that in a ghostly silence the squadron swept
around the last bend and Naj a raised his clenched fist high to order the
halt. Pharaoh drew up alongside him and leaned across.
‘Where lies Apepi's camp?'
‘Beyond the ridge. I left my spies overlooking it.' Naja pointed up the
pathway towards the watchtower on the crest. ‘On the far side is a
hidden oasis. A sweet-water well and date palms. His tents are set
among the trees.'
‘We will take a small patrol with us to scout the camp. Only then
can we plan our attack.'
Naja had anticipated the order, and with a few terse orders selected a
scouting party of five troopers. Each one was bound to him by blood
oath. They were his men, hand and heart.
‘Muffle your scabbards,' Naja ordered. ‘Make not a sound.' Then, with
his recurved bow in his left hand, he stepped on to the pathway.
Pharaoh came close behind him. They went upwards swiftly, until Naja
saw the crossed branches of the thorn tree silhouetted against the dawn
sky. He stopped abruptly, and held up his right hand for silence. He
listened.
‘What is it?' Pharaoh whispered close behind him.

‘I thought I heard voices on the crest,' Naja answered, ‘speaking the
Hyksosian tongue. Wait here, Majesty, while I clear the path ahead.'
Pharaoh and the five troopers sank down and squatted beside the path,
while Naja went on stealthily. He stepped around a large boulder
and his dim figure disappeared from view. The minutes passed slowly and
Pharaoh began to fret. The dawn was coming on swiftly. The Hyksosian
king would soon be breaking his camp, and moving on, out of their
grasp. As a soft whistle came down to him he sprang to his feet eagerly.
It was a skilful imitation of a nightingale's dawn call.
Pharaoh hefted his fabled blue sword. ‘The way is clear,' he murinured, ‘Come, follow me.
They went on upwards, and Pharaoh reached the tall rock that
blocked the pathway. He stepped round it then stopped abruptly. Lord