Christopher Golde' Publications

Pharaoh Sneferu had decided he would begin his day preparing for his death. He was, as were most Egyptians of this time, of the strongest belief that his life on Earth was only a part of his journey to a more important After-life. He turned and walked back into his chambers as Ankhhaf his son entered.

“Good morning my son,” he said, “you are just in time to assist me with my plans for the day.”

“Good morning my Pharaoh,” said Ankhhaf, with a smile, “I am happy to be of service.”

Ankkhaf at just eighteen years of age was the Vizier to the Pharaoh, his father.

Sneferu walked across to his drawing table and unrolled some papyrus sheets on which were drawings prepared for him by his tomb builders. Ankhhaf followed him and stood next to his father looking at the detailed plans for two different burial chambers. He knew that his father had begun making plans for the passage through the Underworld for all of the family.

“My son it is no secret that when I pass on to the Underworld, your older brother Khufu will become Pharaoh,” Sneferu began solemnly, “and I wish for you to continue to be Vizier and assume responsibility for overseeing all the building in Egypt under my remaining rule and into your brothers until you meet up with me again in the After-life.”

He turned looking into the handsome face of his second-oldest son.

“These are the plans for our next two chambers that will carry myself and your mother and her sisters on that journey. Our masons and stoneworkers have already begun preparing the stonework for transportation.”

He took his hand from the drawings and placed it on Ankhhaf’s shoulder.

“The priests and astrologers are in disagreement with the location and positioning and we only have a few years to decide before the stones begin arriving in Memphis. I have a task for you that I could not trust to anyone else.”

At this he began to walk with Ankhhaf back towards the balcony, Ankhhaf did not say a word for although he was his son he knew very well, his father was the Pharaoh before he was his parent.

“My Astrologers tell me that there is a mystical place far from the lands of Egypt where with the right device they are able to read the stars and determine the correct and most direct route to the Underworld. If the burial positions are not correct and aligned with the stars we can all be lost in the Underworld never to make it to the After-life.”

Ankhhaf knew how important that was and the thought of that happening filled him with dread.

They arrived on the balcony. Looking out over the city and the lands beyond, they could see the day-to-day life of the Egyptian’s in full swing. It was the most beautiful city in the world and Ankhhaf could only think that the After-life must be even more perfect although he could not understand how.

“Yes it is beautiful isn’t it,” said Sneferu, seeing the smile on his sons face as they looked out over their domain, “but I am going to ask you to leave it all behind for a very long journey that may take you away from us for some years.”

Ankhhaf looked at his father shocked.

“Year’s sire,” was all he could say?

“This place according to my astrologers is a magical island they have been told of by travellers who have arrived with the sea people in recent years, but it is said to be more than two season’s journey by boat and horse from Memphis.”

Sneferu looked out towards the horizon where the sun god now rose above his fertile lands.

“Not only would I not trust this venture to anyone else but I also realise how dangerous it will be and I must tell you, that I dread the possibility of your failure and loss. You have been trained as a great warrior and your skills as a mathematician make you, along with the fact that you are my son, the only person I could consider for this audacious task.”

He paused to put emphasis on his next words.

“This is of the greatest importance to the wellbeing of all your family now and into the future.”

Ankhhaf just nodded his head, his bright blue eyes stared into the rich green eyes of his father.

“I will not let you down my King.”

“I know my son,” said Sneferu, with a look of approval, knowing he had made the right choice.

“Now let’s plan,” said the Pharaoh enthusiastically, “you will take with you five astrologers, six priests, seven builders, twenty of your most trusted warriors and enough slaves to keep you all well. I have already begun to make arrangements with the sea people for your passage across the water.”

They turned and re-entered the room heading to the table where Ankhhaf took out a clean papyrus sheet and a quill and they began to make notes and plans. The sea people had supplied his astrologers with maps of their known world with notes on dangers and stopping points for supplies but much of it was incomplete.

At the far end of one of the maps was a strangely shaped island they called Britannica. His father pointed to it.

“This is the island they speak of,” he said, with a smile on his face, “this is a magic land and from here I am told the local people have been star watchers for thousands of years. With their help and the skill of our astrologers, builders and priests we will be able to plot the course for our family to the underworld. Once you have built the necessary structures for them you will return with just your warriors and leave the rest of them there. They can then continue to guide us using messengers.”

He looked up from the map and stared solemnly into Ankhhaf’s eyes.

“Do not tell them they will be staying there as they all think they will return with you, just make them settle in with the local population and be sure they are happy, powerful and rich, then they will not mind staying.”

Ankhhaf nodded knowingly. He thought how bad it would be never to return to Egypt and he worried at the thought of how he would leave so many behind to such a fate. He hoped this island was not only magical but also enchanting.

“There is a new breakaway tribe from a province much further to the west.” Continued the Pharaoh, “they are called Phoenician’s and they are not only fearsome warriors but great travellers and have already traversed the route you are to travel and have built trusted contacts along the way. You will board the vessels of the Sea People at the port in Canopus for your first leg of the journey.”

Sneferu pointed to the map.

“First stop will be the island of Creta which is where you will meet the Phoenician’s for the second leg.”

They continued plotting, planning and making lists of necessary supplies for most of the day. In the afternoon they brought in a young priest called Dedi and Ito the head of the builders who would also be going on the long journey. Not only did they plan the trip and what supplies they would need, but they also formulated plans on what must be done on arriving on the island nation and discussed what travellers had told them about the people there. They would take with them precious gifts from Egypt that would surely impress any persons, let alone these more primitive peoples.

Six full moon cycles later, in the early hours of the morning, a procession of twenty mounted horses, ten mules fully laden and thirty slaves on foot left the city of Memphis for the port on Canopus.

When they arrived late in that same day they were greeted by the sight of four large vessels of about eighty cubits in length each. They were the sturdiest and largest vessels Ankhhaf had ever seen. A marvel of modern engineering made from large flat planks of timber sewn together with binding and then mortared to make them waterproof. At the middle of each was a large mast and the men on board were unfurling huge square sales made of animal skins. Along each side were twenty oars and at the tail end of the boat the gigantic steering till reached down into the water.

Ankhhaf’s Master of Arms, a half Greek half Egyptian, battle-hardened soldier by the name of Avelier approached on foot and Ankhhaf dismounted his horse to meet him.

“My Lord,” began Avelier, “the head of the Sea Peoples wishes to speak with you.”

Avelier bowed his head waiting for a response

“Take me to him,” was the short response, as he handed the reins of his fine white Arabian horse to one of his personal slaves.

“Yes, Lord.”

Avelier turned and lead the way along the sea wall next to the ships as the men on board stopped working briefly to look at Ankhhaf in all his finery walking behind his Master of Arms. It was a sight none of them had ever witnessed, a Semi-Pharaoh in the flesh. It was for most of them like seeing a real God walking among mortal men.

The head of the Sea Peoples was a merchant, seaman, come pirate, by the name of Guidea. He was in his late thirties and considered amongst his compatriots as old for the job, but none were fiercer and demanded more respect than Guidea.

He looked up from a piece of papyrus he was studying when Ankhhaf and his soldier arrived.

“My Lord,” announced Avelier, “This is the leader of the Sherden Sea Peoples, General Guidea.”

At that announcement, Guidea walked passed the soldier and stood in front of the Egyptian Monarch bowing appropriately.

“My Lord Pharaoh,” began Guidea in a broken Egyptian dialect, “it is an honour to be at your service.”

Ankhhaf half-smiled, he was pleased to be welcomed a Pharaoh even though he was only the representative of the Pharaoh. He was equally entertained by the Sherden’s attempt at his language.

“You honour me, General, with your respect for my language and I accept genuinely your welcome,” replied Ankhhaf.

“The honour is mine sire,” replied Guidea, his head still bowed, “that you will journey with us to these distant lands as requested by your priests.”

He raised his head. Ankhhaf noted his thick dark brows and very dark eyes that could be mistaken for being sinister but of course was distinctive of his heritage from Assyria, although he called himself Sherden. He knew that the Sherden as a tribe had not been around long but had noted themselves throughout the lands as excellent sailors and hence were labelled by most as Sea People, although this name related to a few tribes that used the sea for their livelihoods.

The General continued.

“I have put at your disposal four of my largest and finest vessels but I am afraid we will not be able to accommodate all of the livestock you have with you,” he gestured to the twenty horses and ten mules standing nearby. “With all your people, five more Phoenicians we must pick up in Creta and your considerable luggage I think we can only take ten horses and no mules.”

Ankhhaf looked annoyed and turned to his Commander. He, in turn, reacted as he thought he should and started to tell the Sherden General that this was preposterous. The Egyptian translation of that seemed to get lost on the Sherden who simply shrugged his shoulders.

“Sire,” he finally said, “turning bluntly away from the blustering soldier, “I will make sure you can purchase more mules and enough horses when we finally make land and I will make sure you are paid equally here for the horses and mules we cannot take. You will not be out of pocket one grain of gold in the transaction I will even get you more horses than you have now.”

It was a reasonable offer considering the circumstances but Ankhhaf was suspicious that this had been a well thought out plan as surely his priests were too wise to have not mentioned loads on the ships. He was sure that the cost of horses and mules where they were going would be far less than the cost here in Egypt and that the translation in gold would provide a handsome profit on top of what he knew must have been a considerable amount his father was paying them for the transport. However, he had not the time now to barter, so he agreed and the loading began.

They did not leave till first light the next morning and when they set out it was a sight to behold. The four large ships with their twenty oars a side each, turning the ships in the right direction and the sails on each being set in a stiff breeze. Even the colours and flags of the Pharaoh flew out in full shape at the rear, providing to all onlookers the justifiable impression of great speed.

Ankhhaf stood at the rear of the lead ship with the General beside him pointing out features along the shoreline as they moved swiftly passed them. He could not remember the time he had enjoyed something so much. As the day passed so did the sight of the shoreline until it was almost as if the whole world was water. Ankhhaf and the rest on board put this down to the distances being so great that they could not now see anything because they were just too small to see. It would be thousands of years before men would come to understand it was the curvature of the Earth that hid everything from view.

Once night fell the stars shone so brightly in the sky that the astrologers with their measuring devices began to explain to the royal party of Ankhhaf and the General about what each star cluster or line represented. The Pharaohs son found this information fascinating and listened intently as the Astrologers and Didi, the head of the priests, argued about some points that represented different Gods and different meanings.

A special area had been arranged for Ankhhaf away from everyone else for sleeping which was like a tent on the open deck of the vessel. The makeshift quarters were lined with animal skins and his bed was a low framework made of wood but laid with gold trim that had been assembled during the day time of the voyage. He sunk his head back into the pillow of fine feathers and pulled one of the finer skins up over his torso to his neck. He had the option of sleeping with one of the slave-girls brought along just for this duty but tonight he wanted to be alone to think.

The journey ahead was dangerous and important, he needed to prepare mentally. He prayed to Anubis to fulfil his mission and help his family to get through to the After-life. He believed without a doubt that his father had given him a mission that was of the gravest importance to his whole family and all families of the royal line of Egypt to come for thousands of years. He must be successful.

As the morning light bathed the interior of his quarters, Ankhhaf opened his eyes and ears and he could hear the Tillerman giving instructions to the oarsmen in their Assyrian dialect. He had been schooled in many languages and understood most of what was being said except for occasional words that he assumed would be sea people slangs not in the general populace dialogue.

He rose and dressed in some light robes leaving his quarters. The light outside was still just breaking and he could see Ra just lifting his head from his own sleep beneath the water. Overhead some sea birds squawked and he heard the deep voice of the Sherden General greet him.

“Welcome your highness to the rising of Ra,” he said in his accented Egyptian.

Ankhhaf smiled. He was impressed not only now by the Generals language skills but also his knowledge of Egyptian greetings and beliefs.

“Good morning General, and a beautiful morning it is.”

The General smiled in return and bowed his head in acknowledgement of the greeting. He then pointed to the front of the vessel or beyond.

“Your highness, we approach land in the distance.”

Ankhhaf looked and a smile came to his face.

“This indeed is a wonderful morning, how long before we arrive?”

“We will need to travel pass what we see ahead as although it is the island of Creta we can see, we must enter from the other side, so perhaps by mid-afternoon, we can dock.”

Ankhhaf could see that not only was the sail up in full but the entire complement of oarsmen was hard at work pushing the vessel to probably its fullest speed.

“You make haste General,” commented Ankhhaf?

“The tides around the island are treacherous Sire so we are not taking any chances of being swept off our course.”

Ankhhaf looked at the deep blue water and could see that it churned about the vessel’s hull and nodded his head in agreement.

After a good breakfast of fruit and yoghurt served by his slaves, Ankhhaf prowled the boat looking to the island as it crept ever so closer. By the time Ra was in the second half of the sky, they could see a rocky outcrop on the island that was attended by other vessels of much smaller size than the giants they sailed in.

The General gave the order to prepare to dock and there was instantly an eruption of activity on board. One of their other vessels had come almost alongside and he could see that the same preparation was taking place. Ahead on the shore, which he could see now was a rocky outcrop sheltering a small harbour, there was also activity. He could imagine that the sight of four such large vessels approaching, flying the Egyptian insignia among their banners, would be a reason for great excitement on such a small island.

The men had now reined in the sails on each vessel and the oarsmen and tiller had taken over guiding the ships skilfully around the rock outcrop and into the sheltered water. Ankhhaf was amazed at how skilfully the ships masters brought them about and up to the man-made portions of the outcrop where some obviously military type people awaited their arrival along with cargo he assumed they must be taking on board.

As all four vessels pulled alongside the man-made dock they took up all the space available. A small flotilla of what looked like fishing vessels sat off a bit watching with amazement at the grand sight.

The general turned to Ankhhaf.

“My Lord, we will be spending the night here in Creta to give the men time to freshen, re-stock some supplies and then we will depart early tomorrow morning for the next leg.”

Ankhhaf nodded and actually was pleased that he could get some time to look around the small fishing port. His Master at Arms pushed through the activity on-board to get to Ankhhaf’s side.

“Your highness,” he said bowing his head slightly, “we will unload the horses here to allow them to graze and get some exercise and I will get the men to find a suitable spot to set up your quarters.”

“Very good,” said Ankhhaf, “and I would like to take some time to go for a ride and have a look around the island.”

Avelier frowned.

“Your Highness, it may not be safe for you in a land we do not know among primitives who will not understand you are not an equal mortal to them.”

“Avelier,” Ankhhaf smiled at him, “we are going to be travelling to many lands we do not know or understand, among people who do not know us or what we represent, so I do not think a ride on this small island will be the worst of our fears for the next seasons to come.”

Avelier could see the logic in what was said but his natural instinct to protect the royal family still left him with unease.

“You are right my Lord,” he replied, bowing slightly in acknowledgement of his defeated argument, “but please take with you myself and some of my men.”

“Very well,” smiled Ankhhaf, “it will be good for you as well to get out into the fresh air.”

“One more thing Highness,” said Avelier, “the Phoenicians are here and would like to meet you.”

Avelier indicated four military looking types that stood on the dock looking on as the Egyptian horses were being unloaded. Ankhhaf noted that one was a tall dark-skinned woman that had very short jet black hair and wore flowing purple and yellow robes over gold breastplates and animal skin pants. She was shockingly beautiful in a very warlike way and this attracted him greatly.

“Yes of course,” said Ankhhaf, still staring at her, “bring them aboard.”

Avelier bowed and left heading towards the boarding plank that had been erected to unload the horses. He spoke briefly with the four warriors and then escorted them back towards were Ankhhaf stood with the General and two of his senior slaves. He noted with significance that the female was allowed to lead the other three warriors. He thought to himself that if she were not a personage of importance this would never be allowed to happen. This intrigued him even more.

When Avelier returned he bowed again and turned to the four waiting Phoenician warriors. Each of them had now fallen to their knees bowing deeply to the deck of the vessel.

“Your Highness the Grand Vizier of Egypt and son of the great Pharaoh Sneferu,” began Avelier with his formal introduction, “Prince Hannibal of Byblos and his sister Princess Elisheva, as well as their two royal guards.”

Ankhaaf was delighted, he had Phoenician royalty to accompany them.

“Rise,” said Ankhhaf walking over to them, “I and my father appreciate very much your knowledge and assistance on this epic journey.”

The four Phoenicians rose and Ankhhaf could not help but stare at the Princess Elisheva. She was much darker in skin than her brother but still compared to the royal guards with them who were quite pale-skinned, both the royals were much darker. He knew that the Phoenicians were a relatively new and mixed-race originating from Assyria, the ancient Canaanite and the Saharan nations, as well as others, so it was not really surprising.

“Thank you my King,” spoke the Prince in Greek, “I hope you do not mind me speaking in Greek as I am not able to speak in your holy tongue.”

“No,” replied Ankhhaf in fluent Greek, “I do not mind at all, Greek is almost my second language.”

The Prince smiled.

“My sister, however,” replied the Prince, “can speak many tongues including your Egyptian. I am afraid while I was schooling in the arts of sailing and war, she was more a scholar of intellect.”

Ankhaaf turned to the Princess who was staring at him with the most magnificent dark eyes and addressed her in Egyptian.

“I am impressed Princess Elisheva that you speak my language but I guess for the politeness to all others present we should probably converse in Greek unless we have anything private to share.”

The Princess, smiled and Ankhhaf was taken back by his own inner feelings at the incredible but sharp beautiful features of her face.

“Thank you my King,” she replied in very fluent and precise Egyptian, “I would agree that for the politeness to others we should use Greek but I will look forward to those private conversations as well.”

Ankhhaf smiled, this was indeed a force to be reckoned with and he would enjoy the challenge.

“Would you and your brother be interested to join us for a ride now to have a look around some of the island,” he asked directly to the Princess but this time in Greek.

Elisheva took a quick look to her brother and then turned back to the Ankhhaf.

“Yes, we would be honoured to join you.”

“Terrific,” said Ankhhaf looking to his Master at Arms, “Avelier, prepare our horses we depart as soon as you are ready.”

“Yes your highness,” said Avelier in a somewhat defeated manner while bowing his head. He took one wary look at the Prince and Princess and then departed to prepare the horses and his men. It really was an extra headache he did not need.

Inside twenty minutes the party of Ankhaaf, his Master at Arms, two of his men and the Prince and Princess from Byblos, were all mounting their horses in an area of land opposite the vessels that the Egyptians had prepared for the care of their horses overnight.

Avelier had found a local guide by the name of Masco that he had paid to escort them and even though the payment had been accompanied by a stern threat of death if anything went not according to expectations, Masco still seemed happy to be their guide.

There were many local onlookers who for the most part appeared to be local traders or dock workers. They seemed delighted by the activity and the regalia that the Egyptians had brought with them and some even cheered as the small group took off at a gallop down the road away from the docks.

Avelier led the troop along with Masco, second was Ankhhaf himself then came the Prince and Princess followed up by Avelier’s men, seven horses in all. The Phoenicians had brought their own horses which were fine-looking war horses one black and one white, dressed in full armoury, while Ankhhaf road his pure white Arabian steed and Avelier his own tough Egyptian battle horse.

As they moved through what looked like the local trading area they slowed down to a walk. Along both sides of the road were traders, some in makeshift houses with flimsy stalls or even just large beakers in front of them with products on display but others were full brick houses with permanent vending structures in front and all manner of pots, tools, clothes, and building materials for sale. At the furthest end of the street were the food traders and this was the busiest section. The group had to stop sometimes to allow for traffic in front to pass. Then after that were the residential houses and the crowds thinned out.

These were a mixture like before, of what looked like temporary shanties but next to some were quite grand brick and wood houses that even in some cases had second floors to them and balconies. Ankhhaf was impressed by this as he had not expected much civilisation at all.

Soon they had left the houses behind them and were out on the open road that was lined with saltbush and stumpy trees. The ground, for the most part, was sand and rock and the roadway quickly deteriorated to a cart track.

After about thirty minutes of riding the surrounding areas became quite hilly and not long after that a view of the surrounding ocean opened up and they encountered a very large building that was under construction and had many workers in attendance.

The guide pulled over to a row of trees where a few men sheltered and he dismounted speaking quickly to one who looked like a leader rather than a workman. He pointed to his party who were all still mounted and then walked back to Avelier. After a quick conversation, Avelier came back to Ankhhaf still mounted.

“The guide says this is a good place to have a look around and the men here will prepare us some lunch,” said Avelier, still lacking in his enthusiasm for the expedition.

“That will be splendid,” said Ankhhaf dismounting, “have the guide come to me and explain where we are.”

Avelier dismounted as well and returned to the guide who looked pleased and started walking towards Ankhhaf who had turned to talk to the Phoenicians. Avelier grabbed the guide by the arm and indicated him to follow.

Avelier came up to the three who had all now dismounted and introduced the guide.

“Your highness,” said Avelier in Greek, probably for the benefit of everyone else including the guide,“ this is the guide Masco.”

Masco took the hint and bowed low to Ankhhaf.

“Masco,” began Ankhhaf with a welcoming smile, “tell me where we are and what we see.”

“Your highness,” began Masco, in rough Greek, “where we are now is the outskirts of a holy place we Minoans call Phaistos, and these men are building a palace and quarters for the son of our King. As you can see this has a wonderful view and it is unfortunate you were not a couple of years later in arriving or we would be able to greet you as you deserve in the courtyard of a grand palace.”

Masco, looked about him waving his hands as if to introduce the building which was still only a basic structure in all its grandness of completion.

Ankhhaf could appreciate how the building was going and what it may look like as completed; after all he was now in charge of all the building in Egypt under his father the Pharaoh and had been educated in engineering and masonry.

He walked forward to inspect the buildings and everyone followed him, Masco just beside him but not daring to get in front of the royal guest.

“And where is your Prince now,” asked Ankhhaf, as he walked through the structure?

“Your highness,” continued Masco, “The royal family are based in our main city of Knossos which is on the other side of Creta. This will be for the Prince and his new wife when it is finished as a country villa to I imagine rest from the toils of Government as the Crown Prince is also the head of Government under his father.”

“I see,” said Ankhhaf, who looked over at Avelier questioningly.

“No your highness,” answered Avelier, knowing what the next question was going to be, “we did not inform the Cretian royalty or Government of your visit as we intended it only to be a stop to pick up the Phoenicians and some supplies then leave immediately. We thought it was better for most of this journey not to attract too much attention so as not to invite dangers.”

“I see,” said Ankhhaf, “I guess that is wise.”

He turned to Princess Alisheva who he had not spoken to at all till now.

“My Princess, what do you think of this island then?”

“You’re Highness,” she said walking closer to his other side away from the guide “they are beautiful views and it is most enjoyable to get out into the fresh air of the countryside.”

She smiled at him and Ankhhaf looked directly into her beautiful dark-skinned face and mesmerising black eyes. It was almost as if she were the statue of a Goddess in Egypt he thought to himself.

“We actually arrived in Knossos two days ago to then travel here to meet you in Amyklaion,” she continued, as they walked, “it is quite a big city with many great structures including the parliament and Palace. Of course, nothing compared to the incredible city of Memphis in your Egypt my Lord King.”

She smiled and lowered her eyes as she said this.

“Ah, so you have been to Memphis,” said Ankhhaf, with surprise, “why would I not know that?”

“My Lord, it was many years ago when I was but a nine-year-old girl,” she said, as they continued to walk, “My father was then the King of Assyria and he had adopted my brother and I from the King of a tribe that he had defeated.”

Ankhaaf noted that she seemed to pause and speak softer as her story was revealed.

“We travelled through Memphis with his slave wagons and as they sold some slaves to your father on the way through, we had a day to see your magnificent city. I was very young but it is not something I would ever forget my Lord.”

Ankhaaf thought about this as she fell silent and knew that the Princess and her brother were probably slaves themselves to be sold for a large price but considering their bloodline was for some reason adopted as part of the royal family on arriving in Aysria.  Perhaps there had been no offspring to this King and that is why. That would not be uncommon. It would also explain their dark skin.

The royal party continued for an hour to walk through the construction and then to some cliff tops to admire the view across the waters of Creta. Small chat was made between the party and the Pharaoh’s son seemed to enjoy himself even laughing occasionally at comments made by the Princess. Finally, they arrived at the most constructed part of the buildings which seemed to be a courtyard. Here the workers had set up some makeshift tables and chairs with a spread of food that although not princely, it was welcoming and Ankhhaf was pleased with the efforts of their hosts.

During the meal, Ankhhaf sat with the Prince and Princess either side of him. He made an attempt to share his discussions with both and the rest of the table but there was no doubt he favoured his attentions with the Princess. After their lunch, while they sat enjoying the local wine brought to them by the builders, Ankhaaf noticed Masco enter the courtyard quickly and go direct to Avelier and whisper in his ear. Immediately, his Master of Arms got to his feet and came straight to Ankhhaf.

“Sire,” he said softly, but urgently, “Masco warns me that a storm is brewing off the coast and heading towards the shore. Evidently, the storms on Creta can be quite violent.”

Ankhhaf stood and so did every guest immediately. He touched the arm of the Princess lightly.

“Princess, we should leave.”

Avelier turned to all the guests.

“We will all be returning to our horses now for the journey back to the port. We need to make haste as a storm of significance is approaching from the sea.”

No-one needed more than that as an invitation and following Ankhhaf and Elisheva they all made their way back to the horses, mounted and left in a quick gallop. Avelier was the last to leave, thanking the head of the builders for their hospitality and offering them a small bag of gold for their effort. It was accepted with great appreciation.

It did not take long for Avelier to catch the group and then soon take the lead. It was important that the protector of the Pharaoh’s son must protect the pathway as often as possible.

As they rode, the sky darkened dramatically and soon thunder could be heard rolling across the hills around them. Avelier rode strongly in the lead, his warhorse grunting and thundering along the bush trails while following closely on their fine steeds were Ankhhaf and Elisheva, followed closely by her brother and the two Phoenician warriors. The guide Masco struggled to keep up on his local pony and dropped back until he was out of sight.

The wind now howled through the forest around them and lightning flashed across the darkened sky startling the horses and causing them to rear and thrash their heads as they rode, with the exception of Avelier’s warhorse who was trained to ignore the noise of battle.

Ankhhaf looked across at Elisheva and marvelled at her prowess in riding so magnificently in such challenging conditions. It was probably the most beautiful image he had ever seen when a flash of lightning highlighted the Princess in full flight on her brilliant white steed as the forest around them seemed to erupt into a whirlwind of leaves and branches. For just a second, it all seemed to stop and continue in slow motion as he watched her horses neck straining forward to its fullest extent while her own beautiful face, with her jet black hair streaming behind, became almost one with the magnificent beast.

In front of Avelier’s warhorse, a giant tree struck by a bolt of lightning lost a huge branch across their path and somehow the mighty horse managed in a split second to lift itself off the ground and fly, clearing it completely as the master warrior held firmly to its neck. Even in full flight, Ankhhaf could see the face of his protector looking back to make sure his master was okay regardless of his own wellbeing.

Almost simultaneously, Ankhhafs fine Arabian and Elisheya’s white steed lifted off crossing the fallen branch safely. Ankhhaf looked back to see the Prince clear safely with one of his warriors but the second warrior’s horse clipped the top of the branch and both rider and horse came crashing to the ground in a spray of leaves and mud.

Prince Hannibal was the first to pull up, turning his mount around and galloping back to the prone rider. More lightning flashed and a roll of thunder seemed to crash through the forest like an avalanche. The horse did not move but the rider was trying to regain his feet and as the Prince got to him he reached down and scooped him on to the back of his horse. The pair then turned and the giant horse laboured for one minute then got back onto stride with the extra weight of another passenger. The rain was now descending in sheets and Ankhhaf could only just make out the Prince and his passenger but they seemed to be okay and he put his concentration back into his own issues being the mud, wind and torrential rain.

As he chased Avelier’s horse through the darkness of the storm he was thinking how his Master at Arms would now be feeling vindicated in his reluctance to venture off on a day trip.

Finally, as they cleared the forest and they saw the first of the houses, the road widened as simultaneously the wind seemed to suddenly die down and now only occasional thunder and lightning streaked the evening sky and even some light could be seen from the descending sun as the sky cleared on the horizon.

It was then that Ankhhaf looked back toward the forest wondering what had happened to Masco the guide.

‘Oh well,’ he thought, ‘it is his island so he should be okay, probably stopped to wait out the storm.’

With not much more thought about it, he turned and rode up alongside Avelier’s horse which had now slowed to a canter.

“Sire,” said the Master at Arms respectfully as his master pulled alongside, “are you okay?”

Ankhhaf smiled.

“You would rather say that you told me that we should not go,” said Ankhhaf, not really expecting a response.

“My Lord,” said Avelier, without looking towards him, “I suspect you probably enjoyed yourself immensely,”

The young Pharaoh laughed loud.

“I did at that,” he said loudly and slapped his horse into a gallop towards the port.

Avelier just looked forward in frustration and kicked the side of his horse to keep up. The others all followed suit, and none thought about the guide Masco again.