Empires of Bronze: Dawn of War (Empires of Bronze #2)

Prologue The City of Ra, Egypt Spring 1294 BC

An Egyptian vulture sped low across the eastern desert, coasting on the white heat of the dune sea, its frill of pale feathers shuddering and its yellow head and purple-beak sweeping in search of prey.

'See how the carrion bird flies,' whispered Pharaoh Seti, his kohl-lined eyes tracking the creature.

'The sacred hunter,' said Ramesses, his youngest son, beside him on the temple balcony. 'It is coming this way.'

Indeed, the bird sped over the last dune and onto the green, fertile stripes of land hugging the mighty River Iteru. It rose to soar over the palm-fringed banks, swaying rushes and crop fields, its head switching this way and that, captivated by the myriad fawn-skinned people at work there. Finally, it tilted towards the sculpted, burnt-gold jewel on the river's eastern banks: The City of Ra, a vast complex of mud-brick pylon gates, temples, towering pillars and statues of gods and ancient kings. Young Ramesses stretched on his toes for a better look as the vulture sped closer to the temple, gripping the marble edge of the balcony and leaning out a little too far.

Seti felt a weakness in his veins – a need to protect the lad as a father should, to pull him back from the precipice. But when the vulture shrieked, Seti's eyes snapped up, seeing the bird banking around the head of one mighty statue – a likeness of Pharaoh Thutmosis, unforgotten despite the passing of many generations. A warrior-king, a conqueror, a victor, a god. The great statue's shadow stretched across the city, blanketing half of the balcony too. Seti forgot about his son's welfare in that moment. He stepped clear of the shadow, a shaft of sunlight falling across his axe-sharp cheekbones and lantern jaw. I will match and outshine your legendary achievements, he mouthed, staring at Thutmosis' stony eyes.

A strange noise sounded behind the pair. The creaking of a bow. Seti swung on his heel, tearing a dagger from his belt and bringing it round on the assailant.

'Chaset?' he raged at his eldest, the adolescent prince who would one day succeed him.

Prince Chaset did not even notice his father's dagger, halted just a hand's-width from his heart. The young man was too busy training his arrow-tip on the vulture. 'I will teach the bird its final lesson.'

With a swish of one hand, Seti snatched the bow from the prince and threw it across the room behind the balcony, where it clattered, knocking over a wicker stool and a vase of wine. 'Choose your enemies more carefully, you fool.'

Chaset's hooded eyes flared open for a moment. 'You told me to be the greatest warrior I could be: with the sword, the spear... the bow!'

Seti stood his full height and glared at Chaset – and Ramesses too for good measure. Snapping his fingers, he strode past them both. The two princes followed, obedient and afraid. 'You train not so you can shoot sacred birds and offend the Gods, boy, but so you might share my destiny.'

He led them into a grand chamber at the far side of the temple. White, sweet-smelling ribbons of frankincense and myrrh smoke rose from the sconces affixed to the chamber's pillars, the stone floor was polished to a sheen, and the high walls were adorned with reliefs of bird and snake gods. Most striking of all, however, was the set of stairs at the chamber's far end – as wide as the hall, streaked with sunlight and guarded by black-wigged, white-kilted spearmen on the edge of each and every step, leading up to the temple's roof terrace. Seti halted in the middle of the floor, lifting his arms while a pair of slaves helped strap to his chest a cuirass of crossed bronze-wings, gleaming even in the cool shade of the room. Another placed a coruscant and bulbous sapphire war-helm on his bare scalp. Two more handed him each a sceptre and a fanged flail, and another tied a lion's tail to his belt. Armed and armoured, he strode on and up the steps, shafts of sunlight passing over him as he ascended. 'It is to the north we will find our destiny. Conquest and glory, just as mighty Thutmosis once knew.'