Khu: A Tale of Ancient Egypt by Jocelyn Murray Page A

individual voices were lost in the general cacophony of the fight.
    Mentuhotep’s eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up. For a moment he wondered what unholy world the squabbling and shrieking mass had come from. Only Khu and Nakhti watched in amusement. Then the king glanced at Qeb. The trainer shook his head slowly while muttering something under his breath. He looked like he had had enough for the day, as he stood with his muscled arms hanging limply by his sides. It had been a long day in the company of the rambunctious boys whose temperaments sometimes got the better of him.
    “That is enough for today, Qeb,” the king said with a wave of his hand. “Let them be.”
    The boys ceased their wrestling at the sound of their father’s voice. And when they went to drink some of the heqet from the jugs waiting under the shade of a tent by their older brothers, Nakhti doused them with the drink, laughing as he poured it over their shaved heads.
    “That is to cool your hot tempers,” he told them with a grin.
    They shrieked and giggled as the liquid soaked them and dripped down their single plaited sidelocks, forgetting their warrior’s training as they reverted to their childish ways.
    Servants collected the fighting accoutrements and other materials used for the day’s training as the king took Qeb aside for a private word.
    “I plan to take Khu and Nakhti with us on our next expedition south,” he said.
    Qeb looked away for a while, his expression guarded as he pondered the king’s intentions. Perspiration beaded his smooth dark skin that gleamed like burnished bronze under the hot sun. He ran a hand over his smooth ebony scalp in an absent-minded gesture. His densely-coiled, wooly hair was kept shaved, so that it never grew beyond a stubble, and only when an expedition or other important matter kept him from shaving every day.
    Qeb had been with Mentuhotep for many years, since before the king ascended to the throne. He had been captured in a raid when he was just a boy down in the land of Kush from where he had originated. Like many of the captured Kushites, Qeb had been assimilated into the Theban royal army where he had honed his fighting skills under the tutelage of other warriors. He had fought many times alongside Mentuhotep in the years since then, and had proven himself to be a formidable soldier of steadfast loyalty.
    Qeb had earned the illustrious, hard-won title of Military Chancellor in Mentuhotep’s army at the beginning of the king’s reign, and was highly respected by all the king’s soldiers. Although Qeb had men working for him who assisted with all the boys’ training, there were some things he preferred to oversee himself. It was this hands-on approach that earned him great respect. He was never one to dictate to others what he would not do himself, whatever the circumstances might entail.
    Qeb watched Khu and Nakhti as they led the smaller boys back to the palace. The two boys had lost their long plaited sidelocks when they had reached adolescence, and their shaved heads shone golden under the sun. Qeb worked his jaw a little, crossing his long arms over his broad chest as he thought of the boys he had been training for years. He knew they were talented and that they would prove themselves fine warriors someday. He just did not wish to see that day come too soon.
    This would not be the first expedition in which the two boys had accompanied their father. But previous missions were mainly administrative in purpose, where the king visited the various settlements in his kingdom in order to meet with the officials overseeing them, discuss local matters and concerns, and to collect the taxes that he was owed as their regent.
    It was important for Khu and Nakhti to accompany their father since one day they too would be given the responsibility of governmental positions, overseeing settlements or perhaps even becoming commanders in Mentuhotep’s elite army. Whatever they ended up doing required