‘Aye. But not at the cost of our necks. “Get as close as you can,” Taita said.’

‘And we can get closer! I will not return to my master empty-handed.’

Piay glanced back at the six soldiers who had been sent to accompany them on this spying mission. They were young, their blades wavering in their hands as they crouched, waiting for an order. So many of the experienced soldiers had been killed in the fighting that they were recruiting boys who a short while ago had been working in their fathers’ fields.

Piay peered into the dark ahead. What were the barbarians planning to do next? That was the question he needed to answer.

This interminable war had been rolling back and forth along the valley of Mother Nile for nigh on half a century. The barbarians had superior numbers – what appeared to be an endless supply of the best fighting men in the world. They had the greater weapons – those cruel swords and bows that were three times as powerful as any in Egyptian hands. Most importantly, they had those damnable beasts that so terrified Hannu – the horses, powerful and well trained, able to pull gleaming chariots from which each warrior could loose a hundred arrows as they advanced.

Many had lost hope that Egypt would ever be free. But not his master. Taita the Wise, the Pharaoh’s mage and counsellor, insisted that a moment would come when they could drive the Hyksos out once and for all. They had to watch and wait. Taita had sent his agents out time and again to learn the valuable information that would turn the tide of battle. And every time, those spies had failed.

Piay felt his chest harden. Not him. He was the best of them all. He would succeed. He glanced at the white kilt he wore, embroidered with the yellow orb of Ra’s fiery chariot. It was his most prized possession, a present from Taita on the day he had finished his studies, and each time he had worn it, he had experienced good fortune. This was his moment. Glory awaited him.

‘You asked me to tell you if your confidence swelled your head to the point where it might burst,’ Hannu cautioned. ‘It is happening now.’

A terrible scream tore through the night and Hannu stiffened. Piay flinched. His soldiers’ faces were as bloodless as if they had seen the dead return from their tombs.

Piay would not show fear. These men depended on him to lead them into this blood-soaked territory. The Hyksos had advanced again, reclaiming land they had been driven from only two years before. They were showing no mercy to anyone they encountered. To save themselves, the farmers would follow the orders of their new masters. They always did.