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op of this was the smell of unwashed men and their festering wounds； cooking food and fermenting beer； unburied rubbish； and filth； the ammoniacal reek of the latrine pits and the dung heaps； and the even more biting stench of unburied corpses。
Underlying this stifling blend of odours Taita picked out another sickly taint。 He thought he recognized it； but it was only when one of the sufferers staggered drunkenly in front of his horse； forcing him to rein in sharply； that he saw the rose…coloured blotches on the pale face and he was certain。 He knew now why Apepi had failed so far to follow up his victory at Abnub； why he had not yet sent his chariots tearing southwards towards Thebes where the Egyptian army was in disarray； and at his mercy。 Taita pushed his horse up alongside Trok's mount； and asked him quietly； 'My lord； when did the plague first strike your troops？'
Trok reined in so roughly that his mount danced and circled under him； 'Who told you that； Warlock？' he demanded。 'Is this cursed disease one of your spells？ Is it you who have laid this pestilence upon us？' He spurred away angrily without waiting for a denial。 Taita followed at a discreet distance； but his eyes were busy taking in every detail of what was happening around him。
By this time the light was strengthening； and a weak； hazy sun barely showed through the heavy bank of mist and woodsmoke that blanketed the land and blotted out the dawn sky。 It gave the scene a weird； unearthly aspect； like a vision of the underworld。 Men and animals were transformed by it into dark and demoniacal figures； and under the hoofs of their horses the mud of the recent inundation was black and glutinous。
They passed the first of the burial carts； and the men around Taita used their cloaks to cover their mouths and noses against the stink and the evil humours that hung over the heap of naked； bloated corpses piled high in the back of the cart。 Trok spurred his horse to overtake it quickly； but ahead there were many more similarly laden vehicles almost blocking the roadway。
Further on they passed one of the cremation fields； on which more carts were unloading their grisly burden。 Firewood was a scarce modity in this land； and the flames were not fierce enough to consume the heaps of corpses。 They spluttered and flickered as the fats oozed out of the decaying flesh； and sent up clouds of oily black smoke that coated the mouths and throats of the living men who breathed it。
How many of the dead are victims of the plague？ Taita wondered。 And how many from the fighting with our army？
The plague was like some grim spectre that marched in step with any army。 Apepi had been here at Bubasti for many years in camps that swarmed with rats； vultures and the carrion…eating marabou storks。 His men were crowded together in their own filth； their bodies crawling with fleas and lice； eating rotten food and drinking the water from the irrigation canals into which the effluent from the graves and dung heaps drained。 These were the conditions in which the plague flourished。
Closer to Bubasti the encampments became more numerous； tents； huts and hovels crowded right up to the walls and ditches that surrounded the garrison town。 The more fortunate among the plague victims lay under tattered roofs of palm fronds； scant protection from the hot morning sunlight。 Others lay out in the trampled mud of the fields； abandoned to thirst and the elements。 The dead were mixed with the dying； those wounded in the fighting lying side by side with those ravaged by streaming dysentery。
Although his instincts were those of a healer； Taita would do nothing to succour them。 They were condemned by their own multitudes； for what could one man do to help so many？ What was more； they were the enemies of this very Egypt； and it was clear to him that the pestilence was a visitation from the gods。 Should he heal a single Hyksos； it would mean that there was one more to march on Thebes and put his beloved city to flame and rapine。
They entered the fortress and found that conditions were not much better within its walls。 Plague victims lay where they had been struck down by the disease； and the rats and pariah dogs gnawed at their corpses； and even at those still alive but too far gone to defend themselves。
Apepi's headquarters was the principal building in Bubasti； a。 massive sprawling mud…brick and thatch palace in the centre of the town。 Grooms took their horses at the gates； but one carried Taita's saddlebags。 Lord Trok led Taita through courtyards and the dark shuttered halls where incense and sandalwood burned in bronze braziers to cloak the plague stench that wafted up from the town and the surrounding encampments； but whose guttering flames made the heated air scarcely bearable。 Even here in the main headquarters the groans of plague victims rang eerily through the rooms； and huddled figures lay in dark corners。
Sentries stopped them outside a barred bronze door in the deepest recesses of the building； but as soon as they recognized Trok's hulking figure they stood aside and allowed them to pass through。 This area was Apepi's private quarters。 The walls were hung with magnificent carpets and the furniture was of precious wood； ivory and mother…of…pearl； much of it plundered from the palaces and temples of Egypt。
Trok ushered Taita into a small but luxuriously furnished antechamber； and left him there。 Female slaves brought him a jug of sherbet and a platter of ripe dates and pomegranates。 Taita sipped the drink but ate only a little of the fruit。 He was always abstemious。
It was a long wait。 A sunbeam through the single high window moved sedately along the opposite wall measuring the passage of time。 Lying on one of the carpets； he used his saddlebags as a pillow； dozing； never sinking into deep sleep； and ing instantly awake at every noise。 At intervals he heard the distant sound of women weeping； and the keening wail of mourning somewhere behind the massive walls。
At last there came the tramp of heavy footsteps down the passage outside； and the curtains over the doorway were thrown open。 A burly figure stood in the doorway。 He wore only a crimson linen kilt belted below his great belly with a gold chain。 His chest was covered with grizzled wiry curls； coarse as the pelt of a bear。 There were heavy sandals on his feet and greaves of hard polished leather covered his shins。 But he carried no sword or other weapon。 His arms and legs seemed massive as the pillars of a temple； and were covered with battle scars； some white and silky； long…ago healed； others； more recent； were purple and angry…looking。 His beard and dense bush of hair were grizzled also； but lacking the usual ribbons or plaits。 They had not been oiled or bed and were in careless disarray。 His dark eyes were wild and distracted； and his thick lips under the great beaked nose were twisted as if with pain。
'You are Taita； the physician；' he said。 His voice was powerful； but without accent for he had been born in Avaris and had adopted much of the Egyptian culture and way of life。
Taita knew him well： to him Apepi was the invader； the bloody barbarian； mortal enemy of his country and his Pharaoh。 It took the exercise of all his self…control to keep his expression neutral and his voice calm as he replied； 'I am Taita。'
'I have heard of your skills；' said Apepi。 'I have need of them now。 e with me。'
Taita slung the saddlebags over his shoulder and followed him out into the cloister。 Lord Trok was waiting there with an escort of armed men。 They fell in around Taita as he followed the Hyksosian king deeper into the palace。 Ahead the sound of weeping became louder； until Apepi threw aside the heavy curtains that covered another doorway； and took Taita's arm to push him through。
Dominating the crowded chamber was a large contingent of priests from the temple of Isis in Avaris。 Taita's lip curled as he recognized them by their headdress of egret feathers。 They were chanting and shaking sistrums over the brazier in one corner in which cauterizing tongs glowe