And here it is again in a more threatening form. When Pepy, the slave, has spelt out just how desperate the fugitives' situation is:
"Thoas nodded tiredly. The wind ruffled the plume on his helmet - the wind, the hot dry wind of Egypt, the cursed hell-wind blowing out of the north." (p. 148)
It cannot be stated any more strongly than that. This wind is cursed and from hell. But then something else familiar happens. Thoas reflects on something else that Pepy has said. Then he suddenly stands dead still. Ankhsenamen recognizes his stare as that of a man who has seen a revelation. Her father had looked like that coming from Aton's temple but Thoas' god is fiercer. He mutters, then shouts orders. His men swarm.
Poul Anderson's readers recognize a moment of realization as well as they recognize a meaningful wind. These are perhaps his two most memorable literary trademarks. Thoas has realized how to defeat the enemy but we will have to wait to learn how he is going to do it. And that will not be this evening. Other reading calls.
Good night.