River God (Ancient Egyptian Series #1)

River God (Ancient Egyptian Series #1)

Audiobook(Cassette - 2 Cassettes)

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These audiobooks from Macmillan UK offer abridged readings of some of the world¹s most popular authors. Handsomely packaged, they feature readings by eminent actors of the stage and screen, including James Fox, Martin Shaw, Tim Pigott-Smith, and David Rintoul.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781578150212
Publisher: Media Books, L. L. C.
Publication date: 01/28/2000
Series: Ancient Egyptian Series , #1
Edition description: 2 Cassettes
Product dimensions: 4.26(w) x 7.16(h) x 0.69(d)

About the Author

Wilbur Smith is the bestselling author of many novels, each meticulously researched on his numerous expeditions worldwide. His bestselling Courtney series includes Assegai, The Sound of Thunder, Birds of Prey, Monsoon, and Blue Horizon. His other books include Those in Peril, Warlock, The Seventh Scroll, and The Sunbird. His books are now translated into twenty-six languages and have sold over 120 million copies. Smith was born to a British family in Northern Rhodesia, now Zambia, in Central Africa, and attended Rhodes University in South Africa. He has homes in Cape Town, London, Switzerland and Malta.

Read an Excerpt

The river lay heavily upon the desert, bright as a spill of molten metal from a furnace. The sky smoked with heat-haze and the sun beat down upon it all with the strokes of a coppersmith's hammer. In the mirage the gaunt hills flanking the Nile seemed to tremble to the blows.

Our boat sped close in beside the papyrus beds; near enough for the creaking of the water buckets of the shadoof, on their long, counter-balanced arms, to carry from the fields across the water. The sound harmonized with the singing of the girl in the bows.

Lostris was fourteen years of age. The Nile had begun its latest flood on the very day that her red woman's moon had flowered for the first time, a coincidence that the priests of Hapi had viewed as highly propitious. Lostris, the woman's name that they had then chosen to replace her discarded baby-name, meant `Daughter of the Waters'.

I remember her so vividly on that day. She would grow more beautiful as the years passed, become more poised and regal, but never again would that glow of virgin womanhood radiate from her so overpoweringly. Every man aboard, even the warriors at the rowing-benches, were aware of it. Neither I nor any one of them could keep our gaze off her. She filled me with a sense of my own inadequacy and a deep and poignant longing; for although I am a eunuch I was gelded only after I had known the joy of a woman's body.

'Taita,' she called to me, `sing with me!' And when I obeyed she smiled with pleasure. My voice was one of the many reasons that, whenever she was able, she kept me near her; my tenor complemented her lovely soprano to perfec- tion. We sang one of the old peasant love songs that I had taught her, and which was still one of her favourites:

My heart flutters up like a wounded quail when I see my beloved's face and my cheeks bloom like the dawn sky to the sunshine of his smile

From the stern another voice joined with ours. It was a man's voice, deep and powerful, but it lacked the clarity and purity of my own. If my voice was that of a dawngreeting thrush, then this was the voice of a young lion.

Lostris turned her head and now her smile shimmered like the sunbeams on the surface of the Nile. Although the man upon whom she played that smile was my friend, perhaps my only true friend, still I felt the bitter gall of envy burn the back of my throat. Yet I forced myself to smile at Tanus, as she did, with love.

Tanus' father, Pianki, Lord Harrah, had been one of the grandees of the Egyptian nobility, but his mother had been the daughter of a freed Tehenu slave. Like so many of her people, she had been fair-headed and blue-eyed. She had died of the swamp fever while Tanus was still a child; so my memory of her was imperfect. However, the old women said that seldom before had such beauty as hers been seen in either of the two kingdoms.

On the other hand, I had known and admired Tanus' father, before he lost all his vast fortune and the great estates that had once almost rivalled those of Pharaoh himself. He had been of dark complexion, with Egyptian eyes the colour of polished obsidian, a man with more physical strength than beauty, but with a generous and noble heartsome might say too generous and too trusting, for he had died destitute, with his heart broken by those he had thought his~friends, alone in the darkness, cut off from the sunshine of Pharaoh's favour.

Thus it seemed that Tanus had inherited the best from both his parents, except only worldly wealth. In nature and in power he was as his father; in beauty as his mother. So why should I resent my mistress loving him? I loved him also, and, poor neutered thing that I am, I knew that I could never have her for myself, not even if the gods had raised my status above that of slave. Yet such is the perversity of human nature that I hungered for what I could never have and dreamed of the impossible.

Lostris sat on her cushion on the prow with her slave girls sprawled at her feet, two little black girls from Cush, lithe as panthers, entirely naked except for the golden collars around their necks. Lostris herself wore only a skirt of bleached linen crisp and white as an egret's wing. The skin of her upper body, caressed by the sun, was the colour of oiled cedar wood from the mountains beyond Byblos. Her breasts were the size and shape of ripe figs just ready for plucking, and tipped with rose garnets.

She had set aside her formal wig, and wore her natural hair in a sidelock that fell in a thick dark rope over one breast. The slant of her eyes was enhanced by the silvergreen of powdered malachite cunningly touched to the upper lids. The colour of her eyes was green also, but the darker, clearer green of the Nile when its waters have shrunk and deposited their burden of precious silts. Between her breasts, suspended on a gold chain, she wore a figurine of Hapi, the goddess of the Nile, fashioned in gold and precious lapis lazuli. Of course it was a superb piece, for I had made it with my own hands for her.

Suddenly Tanus lifted his right hand with the fist clenched. As a single man the rowers checked their stroke and held the blades of their paddles aloft, glinting in the sunlight and dripping water. Then Tanus thrust the steeringoar hard over, and the men on the port bank stabbed their backstroke deeply, creating a series of tiny whirlpools in the surface of the green water. The starboard side pulled strongly ahead. The boat spun so sharply that the deck canted over at an alarming angle. Then both banks pulled together and she shot forward.' ,The sharp prow, with the blue eyes of Horus emblazoned upon it, brushed aside the dense stands of papyrus, and she lanced her way out of the flow of the river and into the still waters of the lagoon beyond.

Lostris broke off the song and shaded her eyes to gaze ahead. `There they are!' she cried, and pointed with a graceful little hand. The other boats of Tanus' squadron were cast like a net across the southern reaches of the lagoon, blocking the main entrance to the great river, cutting off any escape in that direction.

Naturally, Tanus had chosen for himself the northern station, for he knew that this was where the sport would be most furious. I wished it was not so. Not that I am a coward, but I have always the safety of my mistress to consider. She had inveigled herself aboard the Breath of Horus only after much intrigue in which, as always, she had deeply involved me. When her father learned, as he surely would, of her presence in the thick of the hunt, it would go badly enough for me, but if he learned also that I was responsible for allowing her to be in the company of Tanus for a full day, not even my privileged position would protect me from his wrath. His instructions to me regarding this young man were unequivocal.

However, I seemed to be the only soul aboard the Breath of Horus who was perturbed. The others were simmering with excitement. Tanus checked the rowers with a peremptory hand-signal, and the boat glided to a halt and lay rocking gently upon the green waters that were so still that when I glanced overboard and saw my own reflection look back at me, I was struck, as always, by how well my beauty had carried over the years. To me it seemed that my face was more lovely than the cerulean blue lotus blooms that framed it. I had little time to admire it, however, for the crew were all abustle.

One of Tanus' staff officers ran up his personal standard to the masthead. It was the image of a blue crocodile, with its great coxcombed tail held erect and its jaws open. Only an officer of the rank of Best of Ten Thousand was entitled to his own standard. Tanus had achieved such rank, together with the command of the Blue Crocodile division of Pharaoh's own elite guard, before his twentieth birthday.

Now the standard at the masthead was the signal for the hunt to begin. On the horizon of the lagoon the rest of the squadron were tiny with distance, but their paddles began to beat rhythmically, rising and falling like the wings of wild geese in flight, glistening in the sunlight. From their sterns the multiple wavelets of their wakes were drawn out across the placid waters and lay for a long while on the surface; as though moulded from solid clay.

Tanus lowered the gong over the stern. It was a long bronze tube. He allowed the end of it to sink below the surface. When struck with a hammer of the same metal the shrill, reverberating tones would be transmitted through the water, filling our quarry with consternation. Unhappily for my equanimity, I knew that this could readily turn to a murderous rage.

Tanus laughed at me. Even in his own excitation he had sensed my qualms. For a rude soldier he had unusual perception. `Come up here in the stern-tower, TaitaP he ordered. `You can beat the gong for us. It will take your mind off the safety of your own beautiful hide for a while.'

I was hurt by his levity, but relieved by the invitation, for the sterntower is high above the water. I moved to do his bidding without undignified haste, and, as I passed him, I paused to exhort him sternly, 'Have a care for the safety of my mistress. Do you hear me, boy? Do not encourage her to recklessness, for she is every bit as wild as you are.' I could speak thus to an illustrious commander of ten thousand, for he was once my pupil and I had wielded the cane on more than one occasion across those martial buttocks. He grinned at me now as he had in those days, as cocky and impudent as ever.

`Leave that lady in my hands, I implore you, old friend. There is nothing I would relish more, believe met' I did not admonish him for such a disrespectful tone, for I was in some small haste to take my place in the tower. From there I watched him take up his bow.

Already that bow was famous throughout the army, indeed throughout the length of the great river from the cataracts to the sea. I had designed it for him when he had grown dissatisfied with the puny weapons that, up until that time, were all that were available to him. I had suggested that we should try to fashion a bow with some new material other than those feeble woods that grow in our narrow riverine valley; perhaps with exotic timbers such as the heartwood of the olive from the land of the Hittites or of the ebony from Cush; or with even stranger materials such as the horn of the rhinoceros or the ivory tusk of, the elephant.

No sooner had we made the attempt than we came upon a myriad of problems, the first of which was the brittlenessof these exotic materials. In their natural state none of them would bend without cracking, and only the largest and therefore the most expensive elephant tusk would allow us to carve a complete bowstock from it. I solved both these problems by splitting the ivory of a smaller tusk into slivers and gluing these together in sufficient girth and bulk to form afull bow. Unfortunately it was too rigid for any man to draw.

However, from there it was an easy and natural step to laminate together all four of our chosen materials-olive wood, ebony, horn and ivory. Of course, there were many months of experimentation with combinations of these materials, and with various types of glue to hold them together. We never did succeed in making a glue strong enough. In the end I solved this last problem by binding the entire bowstock with electrum wire to prevent it from flying apart: I had two big men assist Tanus in twisting the wire on to it with all their combined strength, while the glue was still hot. When it cooled, it set to an almost perfect combination of strength and pliability.

Then I cut strands from the gut of a great black-maned lion that Tanus hunted and killed with his bronze-bladed war spear out in the desert. These I tanned and twisted together to form a bowstring. The result was this gleaming arc of such extraordinary power that only one man out of all the hundreds who had made the attempt could draw it to full stretch.

The regulation style of archery as taught by the army instructors was to face the target and draw the hocked arrow to the sternum of the chest, hold that aim for a deliberate pause, then loose on command. However, not even Tanus had the strength to draw this bow and hold his aim steadily. He was forced to develop a completely new style. Standing sideways to the target, addressing it over his left shoulder, he would throw up the bow with his left arm outstretched and, with a convulsive heave, draw back the arrow until the feathered flights touched his lips and the muscles of his arms and chest stood proud with the effort. In that same instant of full extension, seemingly without aiming, he would loose.

At first, his arrows flew at random as wild bees leave the hive, but he practised day after day and month after month. The fingers of his right hand became raw and bleeding from the chafing of the bowstring, but they healed and toughened. The inside of his left forearm was bruised and excoriated where the bowstring slashed past it on the release of the arrow, but I fashioned a leather guard to protect it. And Tanus stood at the butts and practised and practised.

Even I lost confidence in his ability to master the weapon but Tanus never gave up. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he gained control of it to the point where, finally; he could launch three arrows with such rapidity that they were all in the air at the same instant. At least two of the three would strike the target, a copper disc the size of a man's head set up at a distance of fifty paces from where Tanus stood. Such was the force of those arrows that they would fly cleanly through the metal which was the thickness of my little finger

Tanus named this mighty weapon Lanata which was, quite coincidentally, the discarded baby-name of my mistress. Now he stood in the bows with the woman at his side, and her namesake in his left hand. They made a marvellous couple; but too obviously so for my peace of mind.

I called sharply, `Mistress! Come back here immediately! It is unsafe where you are.' She did not even deign to glance over her shoulder, but made a sign at me behind her back. Every one of the crew of the galley saw it, and the boldest of them guffawed. One of those little black vixens that were her handmaidens must have taught Lostris that gesture, which was more appropriate to the ladies of the riverside taverns than to a high-born daughter of the House of Intef. I considered remonstrating with her, but at once abandoned such an imprudent course, for my mistress is amenable to restraint only in certain of her moods. Instead, I applied myself to beating the bronze gong with sufficient vigour to disguise my chagrin.

The shrill, reverberating tone carried across the glassy waters of the lagoon, and instantly the air was filled with the susurration of wings and a shade was cast over the sun as, from the papyrus beds and the hidden pools and open water, a vast cloud of water-fowl rose into the sky. They were of a hundred varieties: black and white ibis with vulturine heads, sacred to the goddess of the river; flights of honking geese in russet plumage, each with a ruby droplet in the centre of its chest; herons of greenish-blue or midnight black, with bills like swords and ponderous wing-beats; and ducks in such profusion that their numbers challenged the eye and the credibility of the beholder.

Wild-fowling is one of the most ardent pursuits of the Egyptian nobility, but that day we were after different game. At that moment, I saw far ahead a disturbance upon the glassy surface. It was weighty and massive, and my spirits quailed, for I knew what terrible beast had moved there. Tanus also had seen it, but his reaction was altogether different from mine. He gave tongue like a hunting hound, and his men shouted with him and bent to their paddles. The Breath of Horus shot forward as though she were one of the birds that darkened the sky above us, and my mistress shrieked with excitement and beat with one small fist upon Tanus' muscled shoulder.

The waters roiled once more and Tanus signalled to his steersman to follow the movement, while I hammered upon the gong to bolster and sustain my courage. We reached the spot where last we had seen movement, and the vessel glided to a standstill while every man upon her decks gazed around eagerly.

I alone glanced directly over the stern. The water beneath our hull was shallow and almost as clear as the air above us. I shrieked as loudly and as shrilly as my mistress had and leapt back from the stem-rail, for the monster was directly under us.

The hippopotamus is the familiar of Hapi, the goddess of the Nile. It was only with her special dispensation that we could hunt it. To that end Tanus had prayed and sacrificed at the goddess's temple that morning, with my mistress close by his side. Of course, Hapi is her patron goddess, but I doubted that alone was the reason for her avid participation in the ceremony.

The beast that I saw beneath us now was an enormous old bull. To my eye, he seemed as large as our galley, a gigantic shape that lumbered along the bottom of the lagoon, his movements slowed down by the drag of the water so that he moved like a creature from a nightmare. He raised puffs of mud from beneath his hooves the same way that a wild oryx stirs the dust as it races across the desert sands.

With the steering-oar Tanus spun the boat about and we sped after the bull. But even at that slow and mannered gallop he rapidly drew away from us. His dark shape faded into the green depths of the lagoon ahead of us.

`Pull! By Seth's foul breath, pull!' Tanus howled at his men, -but when one of his officers shook out the knotted lash of the whip, Tanus frowned and shook his head. I have never seen him ply the lash where it was not warranted.

Suddenly the bull broke through the surface ahead of us and blew a great cloud of fetid steam from his lungs. The stink of it, washed over us, even though he was well out of bowshot. For a moment his back formed a gleaming granite island in the lagoon, then he drew a whistling breath and with a swirl was gone again.

`After him!' Tanus bellowed.

`There he is,' I cried, as I pointed over the side, `he's doubling back.'

`Well done, old friend,' Tanus laughed at me, `we'll make a warrior of you yet.' That notion was ridiculous, for I am a scribe, a sage and an artist. My heroics are of the mind.

None the less, I felt a thrill of pleasure, as I always do at Tanus' praise, and my trepidation was, for the moment, lost in the excitement of the chase.

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River God 4.4 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 70 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I read this book for the second time after 20 years because I remembered it when I was finally able to take up my much loved habit of reading again...I devoured it in two days! No way to keep from picking it up at every opportunity!The characters and story line are flawless and the action and anticipation are on the mark!    
Guest More than 1 year ago
Wilber Smith truly captivates you with this beautifully written novel. Its the kind of novel where you finish reading the last page and you want to turn it to the beginning and read it over again. Its one of my favorites and I highly recommend it! Warlock and The Seventh Scroll are next on my list.
Guest More than 1 year ago
After about the first 30 pages, the book picks up steam. Incredibly researched. Read the author's notes at the end of the book before you start reading the book. . . it explains how the story is based on scrolls found inside of an egyptian tomb. If I had known that when I started the book it would have been even more interesting while reading it. Definitely worth reading if you like historical novels.
Guest More than 1 year ago
original. a bit predictable, but still enjoyable. a gread depection of ancient egypts culure & religion - the good and the bad!
Guest More than 1 year ago
This book was one of the best books I've ever read. Some people think that this book is too vivid in some of it's details. I happen to believe its better to read such a masterpiece than witness the vulgarity and pervertiness in a music video on MTV. There are many things that seem inapropriate for younger viewers, but yet if that viewer is mature enough to understand that this has to do with history, than it truly makes it a wonder to read and comprehend. I find this book such a joy to read becuase of these vivid details. On the edge of your seat action, I like to call it. Wilbur Smith has done it again, bringing action and adventure to our maturing minds.
Anonymous 7 months ago
An excellent story about ancient Egypt.
doulweapons on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
A decent story about life in egypt around 2000BC is marred by hamfisted writing. I didn't hate the book, but i sure hated parts of it. In general the story isn't bad, but the writing made me cringe at best, and annoyed or angry at worst. It is full of 2-dimensional characters who never change (or change from one flat personality to another), constant deus ex machina (in the form of actual egyptian gods) and somewhat creepily sexual writing that is out of place and excessive.River God is narrated by a slave Taita, who, the way the book tells it, is the pinnacle of human life. He is amazing at everything he does and touches - writing, invention, music, invention, military strategy, architecture, sculpture, invention, painting, invention, science, weather prediction, cartography, astrology, fortune telling, invention, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. He is more annoying in that he's in no way modest; since he's narrating, he constantly tells you how good he is at everything, not that he's trying to brag. And i shouldn't forget to mention how amazingly beautiful he is, irresistible to men and women. Basically if Taita had not existed, Egypt would have collapsed 4000 years ago.The writing is better than the DaVinci Code, but not by much.
ajbarnett on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
I really enjoyed this book. Smith veers from his usual style with this book. He normally writes about his native South Africa, but with this one, he gets inside the head of an ancient eunuch in ancient Egypt. The story is thrilling, imaginative and haunting - what more can I say.
juliebooks on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
What an epic novel - it stirred my interest in Egyption history. Couldn't put it down.
KerriL on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Amazing read. I love historical fiction, and have always been fascinated by Ancient Egypt. Wilbur Smith made it come alive. Fast paced, full of action and incredibly well developed characters. This is the first book I've read by this author and I cannot wait to read more by him.
jayne_charles on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
This is the only Wilbur Smith I have ever read. I was quite impressed with it - the prose was simple and accessible, and the author didn't let too much description get in the way of a good story. On the negative side, some of the battle scenes went on a mite too long for my liking, and the main character was a bit too clever - was there anything he couldn't do? (other than procreate?)On the other hand I'm very glad I read all the way through, if only for the explosive Author's Note right at the end.
pippi-longstockings on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
The first time i attempted to read it I couldn't get into it. I picked it up a year later and couldn't put it down. Taita is one of my favourite character in a book EVER. The second book in the series WARLOCK is amazing, and I got into it straight away. Wilber Smith has a way of bringing to life Egypt. I was never into books set in this era, but I have been converted. Peter Jackson should make the movie!
ppope on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
This book is by far my favourite. It has everything a good story should! I have read the other books by Wilbur Smith that followed from this book, but they can't compare to this one!
Karen_Wells on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Smith churns books out by the dozen, but as churners go, he's hard to beat. His books remind me of glorious B-movies: full of colour and drama and sex. In short, they seem much better when you're reading them than they do in retrospect. But I mention this one because I have a protest to make - something in my view absolutely disgraceful. At the end of the book, the author speaks directly to the reader in his own voice, talking about an archaeological discovery that partially validates his fiction. On investigating this, I found it to be a lie. What on earth possessed the man? I shall never read another book of his again.
bibliobbe on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Wilbur Smith has been churning out these adventure stories for years, so in a sense if you¿ve read one, you¿ve read them all. They are almost all set in Africa and this one differs only marginally, as it is set in Egypt at the time of the Pharaohs. There¿s lots of gore, because naturally every second person is a baddie, and there¿s double dealing between the ageing Pharaoh, his beautiful and much younger wife, and one of his leading soldiers. So when the young wife succumbs to the soldier¿s charms, you know the much-awaited son of the Pharaoh is about to make his entrance. Fairly predictable, although the story races along. A pleasant enough way to waste some time, but this one is not about to set the world on fire. I only read this because it's number 29 on the Top 100 (so high? Unbelievable) and can't find it in my heart to recommend it.
pam_in_recovery on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
This has been my all time fav book, out of the many hundreds of bks read over the years. I highly recommend it. I have read it numerous times.
erinclark on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Wow, did I enjoy this book! Wilbur Smith is a fabulous story teller. I had no idea the Ancient Egyptians had so many interesting and terrible ways to kill, maim and dismember each other. Gory to the max but an exceptionally good read!
sdemler on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Perhaps Wilbur Smith's best work. A rollicking yarn that brings to life Ancient Egypt. A great holiday read, once I started this I was gripped and couldn't put it down !
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Good read
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This book belongs in the fantasy category not historical fiction. So, if you are interested in a fairy tale based in aancient Egypt this book might be right for you. Otherwise don't waste your time.
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