Chapter Thirteen

The atmosphere, previously one of indulgence and merriment, was shattered in an instant. Two black slaves stepped forward in unison, the tension escalating into a confrontation.

The man speaking, who called himself Saru, wore a look of smug triumph. As the nephew of the King of Tyre, he was a powerful merchant who controlled over a thousand slaves and dominated the city’s textile trade. Because of these slaves who worked from dawn until dusk, combined with his extensive political connections, even his bitterest rivals had to admit that his goods were always of the highest quality and sold the fastest.

Inanna looked down at his feet; even his shoes were crafted from purple fabric and gold thread, as if he were literally treading upon two gold bricks.

Prince Izmir had no desire to cause trouble. He had not come to trade or to wreck the establishment; his goal was merely to verify his suspicions. Now that he had achieved his purpose, there was no need to be confrontational. He stepped forward courteously, his naturally humble and handsome appearance lending a sincere and persuasive air to his words: "My name is Imir. I am but a merchant traveling the seas. I have certainly had my eyes opened today. It is not that I do not wish to join you, but rather that I cannot; I am truly no judge of spirits."

Seeing that the man offered a graceful way out and possessed a polished manner, Saru, unwilling to ruin the transaction, became somewhat interested. "Then what business have you come to conduct?"

Izmir smiled without answering, gesturing toward the camel wool, linen, lambskin, and silk on the display. "My ships are anchored in the harbor. If it is convenient to load the goods now, I can offer gold immediately."

Saru was taken aback. With his status and wealth, he had seen many such big-spending merchants, but they were usually procuring goods for royal houses. Curious, he asked, "What is your destination?"

"Egypt," Izmir did not hide his intent.

Saru smiled with sudden understanding. "With the Egyptian King newly enthroned, nations are sending tributes constantly. However, these goods of mine are rarities that one might not see even once a year. It seems you are destined to make a name for yourself in the Egyptian court."

He clapped his hands to summon men to assist Izmir with the loading and settlement. Though the deal was struck, he could not help but linger his gaze on Izmir’s departing back.

At that moment, in the ship's cabin, General Hazas was berating Casey: "You idiot! Why did you buy glass and amber cups?! Those are Egyptian-made to begin with. And look at this purple cloth—it loses its color the moment it touches water; it is clearly inferior stuff dyed with grass roots. You fool, you’ve wasted so much money!"

When the Prince lowered his head to enter the cabin, the General was still in the midst of his tirade. Luka coughed, causing the old man to realize the Prince’s presence; he shoved Casey aside and stood by, looking sheepish.

"It seems my trip to the market was the right choice after all," the Prince said, watching the slaves move the cargo into the cabin before turning his gaze to Casey. "Are you truly incapable of handling even this?"

Casey, a broad-faced, rugged man, nearly collapsed with fear. Only when General Hazas poked him in the waist with his sword hilt did he manage to stand steady, avoiding further embarrassment in front of outsiders. Prince Izmir knew it was difficult for a man like Casey, who knew only how to brandish swords and throw spears, to manage such affairs, but he had not expected such stupidity. His expression remained icy.

Luka retrieved a large bag of gold dust from the Prince’s personal satchel and handed it to the merchant’s manager. Amidst the manager’s fawning pleas for future patronage, Luka sent the outsiders away. The Prince then commanded, "Have the soldiers finish gathering on the ship before nightfall. We shall not rest for another day; we depart tomorrow."

The prow of this merchant ship was adorned with a bronze eagle of the highlands, making it easy to identify. While it was a standout among the vessels docked at the harbor, it was, in truth, little more than a medium-sized fishing boat by later standards, making for a very turbulent journey across the sea.

Throughout the ten-day voyage, Inanna had spent her time clinging to the gunwale, vomiting with a frequency directly proportional to the intensity of the wind and waves. Eventually, she stopped, not because the sickness passed, but because she had no strength left to purge.

By the twentieth day, they entered the Nile Delta. With the star Sirius having risen, Lower Egypt had become a watery realm due to the flooding of the Nile. Looking out, one saw only a vast expanse of water and desolate, muddy wasteland. The entire region resembled a giant mire, with reeds, animal carcasses, and chunks of rotting wood drifting by. Luka pointed to the logs and warned Inanna never to reach out of curiosity, lest she be dragged into the river and torn apart by crocodiles skilled in camouflage.

Amidst such harsh conditions, Prince Izmir was surprised to find teams of Egyptian soldiers wading through waist-deep water, searching for someone, seemingly oblivious to the crocodiles or the lions and hyenas that might lurk in the reeds.

After passing the first checkpoint and presenting his travel documents, he was asked a strange question by the commanding officer: "Have you seen a girl with golden hair?"

Receiving a negative reply, the officer thoroughly searched the ship. Finding only a group of burly men and one small, thin, black-haired girl, and seeing nothing suspicious in the cargo-laden hold, he finally allowed them to pass.

Unwilling to arouse suspicion, Prince Izmir ordered the ship to slow down once inside Egypt. It took another half-month to reach Thebes, the capital of Upper Egypt.

They abandoned the ship and went ashore to survey Thebes, a city unrivaled in the world and renowned as the "City of a Hundred Gates." The Egyptians had polished granite blocks, each weighing dozens of tons, to form city walls as high as ten stories. Four chariots could race side-by-side atop these walls. Starting from the Sphinx Gate in the south, the walls of Thebes stretched for over ten kilometers, pierced by nearly a hundred gates of varying sizes.

The great Greek poet Homer would later bestow upon it the title "City of a Hundred Gates," and Arab historians recorded it as a city as magnificent as a palace.

Directly across the river from the gates of Thebes, on the western bank, lay the Valley of the Kings, the final resting place of the pharaohs. The city of the living and the city of the dead faced each other across the river. The living, under the exhortations of the Temple of Amun, believed in rebirth in the afterlife, while the dead pharaohs passed through the Gate of the Deceased on their sarcophagi, feeling the vitality of Thebes and yearning for eternal life. The two realms faced one another, strangely harmonious and peaceful.

Prince Izmir left half his men outside the city. Leading the rest with a camel in tow, he passed through the towering bronze gates of Thebes. Before his eyes stood the magnificent Temple of Amun. The common folk of Egypt, carrying their chickens and ducks, as well as white lotus flowers picked that morning from the Nile—still glistening with fresh dew—knelt on the temple steps, begging the bald priests to help them offer these gifts to the Daughter of the Nile.

The portly, bald priest, seeing that the offerings were of little value, wrinkled his hairless brow and looked away with an expression of utter disdain.

Prince Izmir found the scene bizarre, but he had no time to hesitate. After passing the temple, he turned into a residential area and slipped into an inconspicuous house. This hidden spot was a base for Hittite spies, and they had already received word, waiting respectfully for the Prince. The Prince stood on no ceremony and immediately summoned the head of the spies to ask for the latest intelligence.

Inanna saw the hesitation on the spy’s face and knew something dire had occurred. He carefully retrieved a blackened object from his waist pouch and handed it to the Prince. Standing close by, Inanna saw clearly that it was a string of jewelry, blackened and peeling in a shocking manner. Recalling the potential tragedy that had befallen the owner of the piece, she felt the brand on her lower back throb with pain.

Prince Izmir took the object, examined it closely, and suddenly stood up with a roar. He gripped the chain so tightly that a gemstone set within it flew off with a sharp click. Seeing the veins bulging on the Prince's forehead and the murderous fury in his eyes, everyone knelt in terror.

The Prince seemed blind to his trembling subordinates. He clutched the chain and muttered, "This is silver-gold, produced only in Lydia, a vassal state of the Hittites. This is an ornament Mytaun never parted with."

What he did not say was that the headpiece was scorched black, and the mottled stains upon it were dried, dark purple human blood. It was evident his sister had met with disaster. Yet, the Egyptians and this city of Thebes remained steeped in song and dance, unaware that a kingdom atop distant mountain peaks was about to ignite with the fire of vengeance.

Prince Izmir, experienced and composed, had long prepared himself for the worst. He took a few heavy breaths, sat back down, and asked calmly, "Where did this come from?"

"It was stolen and sold by a slave from the palace. My men feigned interest to buy it and secretly captured the slave, but he died without revealing any valuable clues," the spy knelt and reported. "We were unable to infiltrate the Egyptian palace, so we had to wait for your arrival, Highness."

Recalling the strange events he had encountered since entering Egypt, Izmir asked cautiously, "Has anything major happened in Egypt recently?"

The spy, as if finding a vent for his pent-up reports, spoke fluently: "There is indeed a momentous event. Months ago, Princess Mytaun wrote home complaining that the Egyptian Pharaoh Menfys had wounded her heart. The King was enraged and ordered an envoy to release a cobra into the palace to assassinate him. Unexpectedly, King Menfys was bitten but did not die. Legend has it he was saved by the divine power of the Daughter of the Nile."

In this era, a cobra was like a dose of lethal cyanide—a swift messenger of death from which there was no recovery. Prince Izmir was stunned: "The Daughter of the Nile?! Who is she?"

Speaking of the one who created such miracles, even the Hittite spies showed a measure of reverence: "This woman appeared out of thin air in Egypt months ago. I once caught a glimpse of her from afar while embedded in an envoy group. Just as the legends say, she has golden hair, eyes as blue as the sky, and skin as white as snow. She is exceptionally clever. It is said she saved the poisoned King Menfys, threw herself into the Nile on the day Sirius appeared, and mysteriously emerged from the riverbed days ago, performing the miracle of turning muddy water into clear water. Now, the people of Egypt worship this Daughter of the River, and Menfys is deeply in love with her, even willing to abandon his betrothal to his royal sister, Queen Isis."

This provided a logical explanation for the inspections he had encountered in Lower Egypt. Prince Izmir, however, was skeptical. He cast a glance at Inanna, who knelt silently to one side, and sneered, "Turning muddy water into clear water? Hmph!"

General Hazas, knowing the full story, advised: "I believe King Menfys’s move is quite clever."

Anyone with a modicum of political sense understood the General's meaning. Generations before Menfys, there had been a rebellious pharaoh, Akhenaten, who openly broke with the Temple of Amun, persecuted the priests, and even abandoned the prosperous capital of Thebes to move the capital to the desert city of Amarna, demanding that his subjects worship the solar disk, Aten.

But that pharaoh did not live long. After his death, the power of the Amun temple surged back, leading to a fierce counterattack. Subsequent pharaohs, including Tutankhamun, were forced to compromise and maneuver around them.

Now, due to the appearance of this mysterious and inexplicable Daughter of the Nile, the Egyptian people had a new, living idol of faith. Menfys held a powerful card to counter the influence of the temple. By invoking the name of deep affection, he had bound the daughter of a god to himself. Queen Isis, the High Priestess of Lower Egypt—who was also aligned with the temple—might ultimately never even touch the throne of the Queen.

Prince Izmir let out a cold laugh, the hatred in his tone chilling to the bone: "Menfys thinks too highly of himself. The blood of our Princess Mytaun has yet to be avenged; how can Egypt be allowed such smooth sailing? If he has caused my father and mother such sorrow and pain, I shall ensure he never sleeps in peace!"