Pharaoh by Jackie French Read Free Book Online Page B

at a mosquito and then another.
    The palace and the town were quiet. Not even the blue flicker of a castor oil lamp shone through the cracks of the mats that were hung over windows to keep out dust and insects. The only sounds were a few snores drifting down from sleepers who had made their beds up on the flat roofs, and the cry of a disturbed plover from the hills beyond the flood.
    ‘This way,’ whispered Hawk.
    They began to run. Up the town’s central street and onto the main dyke. Hawk was soon out of breath.
    Narmer peered though the shadows. Hippos were hard to see at the best of times. Even in the moonlight it wasalmost impossible to spot a grey hide against a black sky, in even blacker water.
    But they should have been able to hear the animal by now. Perhaps it was dozing, thought Narmer—just as Hawk called out behind him, ‘Stop!’
    ‘Is this the right place?’ Narmer tried to make out shapes in the darkness. The water was rippled with moonlight, the dyke wall all mud and shadows.
    ‘Down there!’ Hawk pointed into the shallows, hanging back. Narmer had long suspected that Hawk was scared of animals, especially large ones.
    Narmer waded into the water. But still nothing moved. Was the hippo sitting motionless against the bank? It was impossible to see. Was it—
    The world exploded.
    For precious seconds he wondered where he was, and what had happened. His mind had been focused on the hippopotamus. He hadn’t thought of a crocodile.
    Its first lunge trapped his leg. He screamed and twisted, so that he landed on his stomach in the mud, his head still out of the water, the great jaws still around his flesh.
    ‘Help!’ he shrieked. ‘Hawk! Help!’
    There was no answer.
    The croc was shaking him now, back and forth. Then it slid into the mud, and the water rose around him as the monster dragged him down.
    Down, down…His fingers grasped frantically at the mud. He screamed again. This time the pain was too great for words.
    Down under the water, the blackness choking him, the cold gripping him—all but his leg, which was a burst of fire. And then the creature rolled…
    Over, under, twisting him, turning. This was the death roll, from which nothing escaped.
    His leg was agony. More than agony. His lungs were bursting, desperate for air. But he couldn’t breathe. If he breathed he would drown, there in the murk and darkness. If he breathed the beast would have him. Not even his bones would be found.
    And then it surfaced, dragging him along. Time for one quick gasp of air, then down again…
    Time slowed. It was as if his brain had all the time it needed now to calculate his last chance of escape.
    This time he lashed out, twisted himself, trying to get his fingers into the beast’s eyes. The crocodile seemed startled. Prey animals always went limp and passive in the water. They gave in to the will of the predator.
    Not Narmer. Never Narmer. He thrust out again. Once again he had the feeling that the monster was shaken. This shouldn’t be happening, hadn’t ever happened; quarry never behaved this way. For just one instant the beast relaxed its grip. Narmer surged upwards. He had to get air! For one blessed moment he smelt mud and night-time, felt the air rush into his lungs.
    Beside him the crocodile rose to the surface as well. It too needed to breathe. Narmer felt its leathery back against him; caught one glimpse of its teeth in the moonlight. And then he leapt, flinging himself towards the dyke wall, landing in the water again, but for themoment free, his feet pushing at the mud. No, one foot only, the other…
    There was no time to think about the other…
    Somehow, with one foot only, he struggled up onto the dyke, then fell onto his stomach in the mud. He couldn’t get up, he couldn’t run, but he could crawl…
    He screamed again. Again there was no answer. Had Hawk run for help? Any moment now, thought Narmer, they’ll come, with spears and javelins. They’ll drive the beast