The Pharaoh and the Priest: An Historical Novel of Ancient EgyptPrus, Bolesław
History
The Pharaoh and the Priest: An Historical Novel of Ancient Egypt
Prus, Bolesław
Egypt -- History -- To 332 B.C. -- Fiction
Trumpet after trumpet sounded the attack, and when they had ceased the
command was heard in the central column, and then followed the
rhythmic roll of drums and the beat of the infantry step, marching
slowly and in time: one--two! one--two! one--two! The command was
repeated on the right and on the left wing; again drums rolled and the
wing columns moved forward: one--two! one--two!
The Libyan slingers began to withdraw, showering stones on the
marching Egyptians. But though one warrior fell after another, the
columns moved on without stopping; they marched slowly, regularly,
one--two! one--two! one--two!
The yellow cloud, growing ever denser, indicated the march of the
Egyptian battalions. The slingers could hurl stones no longer, and
there came a comparative quiet in the midst of which were heard sobs
and groans from wounded warriors.
"It is rare that they march on review so well," cried Rameses to the
staff officers.
"They are not afraid of sticks this time," grumbled a veteran officer.
The space between the dust cloud around the Egyptians and that on the
Libyan side decreased every minute, but the barbarians, halting, stood
motionless, and behind their line a second cloud made its appearance.
Evidently some reserve was strengthening the central column, which was
threatened by the wildest of onsets.
The heir ran down from his eminence and mounted; the last Egyptian
reserves poured out of the ravines, fixed themselves in ranks, and
waited for the order. Behind the infantry pushed out some hundreds of
Asiatic horsemen on small but enduring horses.
The prince hurried after the columns advancing to attack, and when he
had gone a hundred yards he found a new eminence, not high, but from
which he could see the whole field of battle. The retinue, the Asiatic
cavalry, and the reserve column hurried after him.
The prince looked impatiently toward the left wing whence Mentezufis
had to come, but he was not coming. The Libyans stood immovable, the
situation seemed more and more serious.
The viceroy's division was the stronger, but against it were arrayed
almost all the Libyan forces. The two sides were equal as to numbers;
the prince had no doubt of victory, but he dreaded the immense loss
since his opponent was so manful.
Besides, battle has caprices.
Over men who have gone to attack, the leader's influence has ceased,
he controls them no longer; Rameses has only a regiment of reserves,
and a handful of cavalry. If one of the Egyptian columns is beaten, or
if reinforcements come to the foe unexpectedly!
The prince rubbed his forehead at this thought. He felt all the
responsibility of a leader. He was like a dice thrower who has staked
all he owns, cast his dice, and asks, "How will they come out?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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