The Egyptian New Kingdom, lasting roughly from 1550 BC to 1077 BC, exploded into being when the last of the hated Hyksos Kings was deposed. The people of the Nile never forgot that shameful period of occupation. Determined never to show such weakness again, they adopted a militaristic, expansionist and aggressive stance - far more so than the Middle Kingdom or Old Kingdom. As such, they reinvented their armies, dispensing with simple levy troops and establishing a standing army of professional soldiers, the ranks swollen by the abundant populace living along the fertile banks of the River Iteru (Nile). Population estimates of 3-4 million indicate that they certainly were never short of manpower (unlike the Hittites), and could field up to or even more than 40,000 men. 

Here, I take a look at the make-up of this fearsome Egyptian 'war machine'...

New Kingdom Pharaohs were protectors of their lands and people and direct appointees of the Gods. Let's have a look at Seti I, the lord of Egypt in Dawn of War:

Seti was certainly quite fond of gathering up honourific titles. . He was addressed as: "Falcon King, He of the Two Goddesses, Horus of Gold, King of Upper and Lower Egypt, Use-mare, Son of Ra, He who rages like a panther". (He who rages like a panther? Reminds me of the time I stepped on an upturned plug.)

Seti was a warrior too, personally commanding their armies and leading them into battle. Pharaohs of the New Kingdom took to wearing the distinctive and majestic blue 'kepresh' crown when they went to war. They would also wear a lion's tail in their belt and carry a sceptre and flail, both probably ceremonial - or perhaps practical depending on how battle was going!
 

​This new professional army was so vast and had to cover such a huge territory that it had to be split into divisions. Estimates of these divisions' sizes vary from 5,000 to 10,000. Each division was housed in huge barracks at a particular city in the Nile homelands, and each was devoted to a particular god (much like the Hittites). Also, each division was entirely self-sufficient with its own wing of chariots, archers, medics, priests, mules and wagons.

​*The Ptah Division was formed a little later that the first three - probably in response to the ramping-up of tensions with the Hittites.

​Evidence of rank and structure in the New Kingdom Egyptian army is rather thin and at times contradictory. We know for certain that Pharaoh was top of the tree. He would either lead the army on campaign or appoint a royal relative or otherwise trusted man to do it for him. Indeed, while still a prince, Seti served as battle master for his ailing father, Pharaoh Ramesses I.

Below Pharaoh there would have been a deputy and a raft of 'Overseers', 'Commanders' and 'Captains' in charge of thousands, hundreds and even tens of men.

​A foot soldier would have lived day-to-day in a 250-strong unit known as a 'Sa'. Egyptian infantrymen were typically either spearmen or archers.

The spearmen came in a few forms:

• the nefru - thought to be younger and less-experienced troops
  
• the menfyt - battle-hardened veterans
  
• the nakhtu-aa, otherwise known as the 'strongarm boys' - who were Pharaoh's crack infantry.

The archers of the New Kingdom armies were just as lethal as the spearmen. There were many native Egyptian bowmen, but there were also plentiful foreign archer regiments too - especially Nubians and Libyans.

The Chariots were to the New Kingdom armies what lancers were to the Normans, or tanks to the soldiers of WW2. They were swift and terrifying to behold: imagine two snorting horses bedecked in bronze and leather thrashing towards you, a warrior and a driver aboard intent on piercing your heart with a spear or arrow, all while the ground under your feet shudders as if the world is about to end!

The Egyptian chariots were honed for speed. The cabins themselves were feather-light and the steering mechanisms deft and nimble. Typically, a 25-strong Egyptian chariot wing would be assigned to each infantry Sa. In battle they would rove across the battlefield, peppering enemy vehicles and foot soldiers with arrows, veering clear of attempted counter attacks or plunging into vulnerable enemy ranks. Ironically, these devices were only introduced to the Egyptian world thanks to the earlier Hyksos occupation!

In total, Pharaoh could muster as many as 5,000 chariots 

​The Egyptians maintained a powerful navy - vital to control trade and piracy and to allow its armies to sail up the coast of Retenu (the modern Levant) and reinforce any trouble spots or to launch a campaign.
The Nile delta served as a perfect Naval launching point, and there was a giant royal dockyard near Memphis. Naval tactics were much like chariot tactics: sail past the enemy at speed, showering them with arrows, avoiding contact.

So, I hope that sheds some light on the military capacity of the New Kingdom. Do leave a comment or get in touch if you have any further questions. Thanks for reading!

Many thanks to Osprey Publishing for their continued excellence in illustrating long-gone eras​.

If you'd like to experience life in the era of the New Kingdom and the Hittite Empire, why not try my Empires of Bronze series? Book 2, Dawn of War (banner below) is out now!

Over three thousand years ago, before iron had been tamed, before Rome had risen, before the ashes from which Classical Greece would emerge had even been scattered, the world was forged in bronze. It was an age when Great Kings ruled, when vast armies clashed for glory, riches and the favour of their strange gods. In the south there was Egypt; in the east, Assyria; in the west, Ahhiyawa (Homer’s Greece); and in the north... the Hittites.

The Hittite King, also known as The Sun or Labarna, was venerated as the deputy of the Storm God, Tarhunda and the Sun Goddess, Arinnitti. Much of his time was spent in his secondary role as High Priest of the realm, attending the many religious festivals all across the Hittite realm, draped in blue robes. But he also served as commander-in-chief of the Hittite army, and in this guise he would wear bronze and leather.

 ​The King enjoyed the protection of two elite units:

The Mesedi were his bodyguards. A detachment of them would be ever-present at home or abroad, on the march, in battle, in camp (and maybe even in the latrine - who knows?) They would have been a small unit - perhaps a few hundred strong. Their leader, the Gal Mesedi, not only commanded these soldiers, but also served as a deputy to the king - organising affairs of state security and such matters. Most often, the Gal Mesedi was a trusted relative of the king.

The Golden Spearmen - named after their gilt lances - were a small (maybe as few as fifty) guard unit tasked with watching over the acropolis of Hattusa. When the king went on campaign, the Golden Spearmen would remain in the city.

At their peak, the Hittites could muster around 20,000 soldiers from their barracks, cities and farms. Based on this figure, and the evidence that they seemed to have four senior generals, I suspect that they would have organised these men into four infantry 'divisions'. There would also have been a chariot wing - the equivalent of a Bronze Age tank division! - and the aforementioned royal guard units.

The spearmen were the spine of the army though. Each was armed with a short, curved sword, a spear, a wood and leather shield and a battle-axe. Whether they wore armour or not, we cannot be sure. They would certainly have worn bronze or leather helmets, and padded tunics/robes, possibly with baked leather armour vests. The more senior soldiers and commanders might have worn bronze scale - although some sources claim the mark of an officer was to go bare chested! And all soldiers would have worn leather boots, upturned at the toes in true Hittite style.

Archers would have been dressed much like their spearmen comrades, but probably with minimal or no armour and likely without a shield too. They employed composite bows made of laminated ash, birch or cherry, with ibex horn glued to the inside of the bow.

Whether spearman or archer, a soldier could fall into one of three classes:

• Standing troops: these were the hard core of the Hittite army. Devoted, lifelong soldiers. In times of peach they would patrol the cities and put their backs into repairing crumbling walls or temples. I estimate that if there was one 'standing' regiment of 1,000 in each division, then there would have been 4,000 men in this core force.
• "Men of the weapon": These men were farmer-soldiers, trained as warriors but needed on the crop fields to keep the grain coming in. They would be called to arms when the standing army needed more muscle.
• Levy troops: These men were the last resort, barely trained or willing. When needs dictated, they would be levied, equipped with what weapons were available and told to stand straight and try not to take a spear in the eye!

​
While the Hittite army was mostly composed of native Hittites (although they were not a genetically 'pure' people by any means), they often recruited from foreign climes. Kaskans from the northern mountains, Westerners, Assyrians, captured Egyptians even - were all at times formed into fresh companies and treated as an equal part of the army. They were barracked together and even allowed to retain their dress, weapons and customs, so long as they obeyed their Hittite commanders.

​This must have been a delicate matter to handle, but they did it with aplomb, it seems. Indeed, the esprit de corps in the Hittite army as a whole seems to have been first class. In excavated tablets, we read of their enlistment ritual, where they are forced to choose between a frock and a mirror, or a sword; or of their oath of the army, where each man holds their fat-smeared hand over a fire until the fat runs off to show their strength and willingness to endure pain for one another. 

Easy one this - there were no cavalry. Well, not in the way we would think of cavalry now (i.e. armed men fighting on horseback). Horses of the Bronze Age were smaller and had not yet been bred to produce the likes of medieval destriers or modern racehorses. They could not be expected to walk with armoured soldiers on their backs for any great distance, let alone charge with such a burden during battle. Horses were ridden, but only by light scouts or messengers. In the main, they were employed in chariotry...

Crewed by a warrior and driver (until the Battle of Kadesh, when things changed) and pulled by two steeds, these thundering war-cars were blunt and brutal. A shock weapon if ever there was one. While the Egyptian chariots were all about speed and spryness, the Hittite chariots were about brute force - for carving into enemy infantry ranks like a scalpel.

​Tablets record a Hurrian by the name of Kikkuli living with the Hittites and schooling them in the art of chariotry and horse breeding. Indeed, it seems he even went swimming with the herds and experimented with grinding salt into their fodder in order to trigger growth hormones (and thus bigger horses). 

​The Hittites were not a seafaring people, mainly due to their heartlands being landlocked and the rivers of that regions being shallow and unsuitable even for serious river boating. But as they spread as a power and claimed coastal territories, it became vital to establish some sort of naval presence. It seems they did so by way of making alliances with and vassals of kingdoms which already possessed a fleet.

​One such kingdom was Ugarit (on the coast of modern Syria). The wealth of Ugarit was based on trade - their capital city being something of an international market hub - and so they maintained a strong flotilla of transport and war ships. Through Ugarit and other such arrangements, the Hittites could control the seas as they did the land.

So there's an overview of the Hittite Army. Hope you enjoyed the read. Any questions? Leave a comment below or get in touch - I'd be delighted to hear from you.

In the second half of the Late Bronze Age, four great powers dominated the international scene: The Hittites, the Egyptians, The Assyrians and the Ahhiyawans (Homer’s Greeks). Of these four, the Hittites and the Egyptians were the strongest.

​The Hittite armies were famed for their ferocity and skill, while the Egyptian 'New Kingdom' was expansionist, ambitious and fervently patriotic. The territories of these two superpowers abutted in a region known as 'Retenu' (roughly modern Syria & Lebanon). Retenu was effectively a patchwork of vassal kingdoms, answering to either the Hittite King (known as the Labarna) or the Egyptian Pharaoh. Vitally, Retenu was also arterial to the Bronze Age tin trade...

A perfect tinderbox for war, eh?

Circa 1294 BC, The newly-crowned Pharaoh Seti I is charged with ambition. He is desperate to attain military glory like his distant predecessor, Tuthmosis III. When he proclaims that all Retenu will fall to Egypt, his armies - vast and primed for conquest - explode with cries of hubris, rattling their spears and swords against their shields, 

​In contrast, the Hittite King Muwatalli II (Muwa for brevity) and his second-in-command and best general, Prince Hattusilis (Hattu), are simply not ready for war. Their hands are already full with the business of governing the Hittite heartlands. There is the neverending pressure from the rebellious Kaskans who dwell in the mountains north of their capital, Hattusa. Added to that, a complex and dangerous situation is developing on the western fringes of the empire, where Troy - an age-old and firm ally - is suffering increasingly-regular raids by the Ahhiyawan city states across the Western Sea. So this new and massive threat to Retenu presents a seemingly impossible problem. 

Seti marches north to make his name. He leads his campaign army through the Egyptian (southern) half of Retenu, crushing rebellious tribes including the Shoshu bedouins. 

When he strides on across the widely-recognised border between Egyptian and Hittite lands - probably at the River Eleutheros which separates modern Lebanon from Syria - it becomes the Bronze Age's 'Rubicon' moment, the point of no return. He goes on a rampage, seizing Hittite-allied Amurru and the city of Kadesh.

War has arrived!

Spoiler note: This section explores my speculative sequence of events from Dawn of War during Pharaoh Seti's brief absence from Retenu.

It is during this hiatus that I chose to have Prince Hattu, venture into Retenu. Given the state of the Hittite armies, I don't think he would have led a military response. Instead, I think a mission of diplomacy might have been the only viable action - a journey to rally and reaffirm alliances with the remaining Hittite vassals of the troubled region. Specifically, he would have had good reason to visit Ugarit seeking assurances of continued allegiance.

Why Ugarit? Firstly, it lay immediately north of conquered Amurru and would surely be next in line when Pharaoh inevitably resumed his conquests. Secondly, the Hittite alliance with Ugarit was a vital one. The kingdom controlled important routes in the dwindling tin trade. Tin ingots and other goods such as oil, wood, silver, waxes, honey, pottery, precious stones, grain and textiles changed hands in great volumes at this coastal market city. More, the Hittites had no real navy to speak of, and instead relied on Ugarit's fleet to serve as their watchmen of the waves. Simply put, if Ugarit fell into Egyptian hands, it would spell disaster for the Hittites.

Dawn of War follows Hattu's adventures in Ugarit and through the rest of Retenu. Throughout it all, he would have been haunted by the size and importance of his task and the limited time window in which he had to achieve it before Pharaoh Seti's return.

For when Pharaoh did return, it would meant only one thing...

​The Egyptian reliefs at Karnak tell of a clash between an Egyptian army and a patchwork/vassal Hittite army in Retenu which took place shortly after Seti's punitive attacks upon his rebellious client kingdoms in the south. I won't go into too much detail/spoilers here, but here are a few teasers about what happened.

Sounds good? Well, you can live out the adventure in Dawn of War!

Any questions? Leave a comment below or get in touch - I'd be delighted to hear from you.

In 382 AD, after 6 years of ruinous warfare between the Eastern Roman Empire and the Goths, the two powers finally struck a deal for peace. But history tells us that peace is a rare and short-lived phenomenon. As it proved, this period of accord served merely as a fermentation ground for new and world-changing conflicts. ​

But, if we can take a moment to breathe deeply and cast an eye over the empire in this trice of tranquility, what did things look like?

In 382 AD, the Roman Empire had, for the best part of a century, existed in parts. Back in 285 AD, Emperor Diocletian split the empire into Eastern and Western halves. He further split each half in two to establish 'The Tetrarchy' - a system of two senior emperors, each known as Augustus, and two junior Caesars. It was supposed to establish a closer degree of imperial control over each quadrant and set in place a clear and undisputable system of succession. in practice, imperial control varied wildly and there was lots of dispute about succession. 
​
Fast forward through civil wars, religious unrest, Constantine's reunification of the empire and its subsequent return to separate halves and finally to the end of the Gothic War... and we arrive at the picture below.

The Western Empire, ruled by Emperor Gratian, consisted of Britannia, Gaul, Hispania, Italia and Africa. While relatively stable, the westerners did have to keep a close eye on the Rhine river frontier, beyond which the many powerful Germanic tribes and confederations held sway. Worse, a strange new threat from the eastern steppes - the Huns - had catalysed the panicked westwards movement of these tribes. Previously happy to raid and retreat, the Germanic tribes were now set on breaking into the Roman Empire to stay, and to put the great rivers between them and the aggressive Hun threat. Fortunately, the Rhine frontier held good up to this point,

The Eastern Empire didn't fare quite so well. The Goths - one of the more easterly of the Germanic peoples - had been living north of the River Danube in roughly modern-day Romania and Ukraine. But the arrival of the Huns forced them to move, en-masse, across the great river and into the Roman Diocese of Thracia (highlighted sandy-yellow in the map above). The Romans were ill-prepared to handle this mass-migration, and indeed they handled it terribly, mistreating the Gothic peoples. The Goths revolted and six years of war ensued, including the Eastern Empire's most infamous reverse at the Battle of Adrianople which saw Eastern Emperor Valens slain. In the end, there was no victor, just the edgy peace deal which saw the Goths settle in Thracia with some degree of autonomy - granted in exchange for their vow to serve the new Eastern Emperor, Theododius, should he call them to arms.

So that was how things were: the Goths planted in Roman Thracia, the Huns still at large in the north, continuing to drive tribal groups towards the perceived safety of imperial lands. Meanwhile, in the East, the Sassanid Persians remained strong and ominous on the desert borders.

With all of these potential foes around the Eastern and Western Empires, you might think it would be common sense for both halves to stand together and compose a strategy to keep the ancient imperial world safe. Unfortunately, common sense seems to have been a rare commodity, for it would not be long before the two halves turned upon each other. I won't go into the specific details of this - but you can read all about them in my latest novel Legionary: Dark Eagle, which gives a soldier's-eye view of the chaos that was about to come.

But I can give you an illustration - partly speculative, but based as much as possible on historical records - of the military arsenals available to the Western and Eastern Empires.

We can see that Gratian's Western Empire retained a strong core of field legions and elite palace regiments (Auxilia Palatina), as well as a great number of cavalry troops from the African provinces to supplement the imperial cavalry schools (Scholae Palatinae).

The Eastern forces might - at a glance - appear matched in number. but if we look closely at the legionary corps, we have only patchy remnants left over from the Gothic War. After all, it is thought that some two-thirds of the eastern army was destroyed at the Battle of Adrianople alone. Ironically, the bulk of the forces available to Emperor Theodosius at this point were the Gothic tribes settled in Thracia - a populous, proven force... but how reliable?

And when it came down to it, could the Roman brothers of East and West really lift swords against one another?

The next few decades were to serve as an answer. Those years would prove be the most torrid the Roman Empire had ever endured, with world-shaping wars and ancient cities ablaze, all to the plaintive death-cry of the old gods.

Upon entering Batumi and crawling through its traffic, I also noticed a rather unusual fashion amongst the men of the city: standing around on street corners with their t-shirts rolled up from the waist, right up to the armpits! Perhaps it was because Batumi was very hot and muggy. It was also very busy and from what I could detect on the way through, the air seemed to be quite polluted.

Fortunate then, that I was not stopping here. Near Batumi's central train station, I hopped off the dolmus and into another taxi which sped me at warp speed along the highway up the Black Sea coast through fresh country air and towards a quiet little place known as Ureki Beach. I had picked this place at random as a good 'downtime' stop for a few days. Ureki Beach sports black, magnetic sand, and the perceived healing qualities of the sand make it a very popular destination for those with health problems, including bone and ​cardiovascular diseases. I checked into a very pleasant beach shack there and - after weeks of fast-paced travel - began to wind down.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time here at Ureki, reading and contemplating history, swimming in the Black Sea, eating my own body weight in 'kachapuri' (and even gloriously-filthier version of trabzon pide!) and getting far too drunk on the 2.5l bottles of beer! I was taken by the local red wines: Mukuzani and Saperavi. I did pass, however, at the offer of some home-made vodka, packaged in repurposed coke bottles. In general, the prices here were a bit of a pleasant surprise. I struggled to spend more than £5 on a full meal with drinks. Not surprisingly, English speakers were few and far between, and I made the effort to establish a little Georgian (mainly 'cheers' and 'where is the...' kind of stuff).

After a few days here, I was fully recharged, with a spare few inches on my waistline. Time to catch the cross-country train and head eastwards to Georgia's capital!

While navigating on foot to my apartment, I quickly found out just how precipitous the city streets were. I really should have packed crampons! But then something quite memorable happened. I arrived at my apartment (Jonjolly Apartments - highly recommended) and met Mariam, who was there to give me the keys. She greeted me with a warm smile and then an apology: the apartment wasn't quite ready yet - it'd be another half hour or so before they had it tidied up. I was quite happy to sit on the doorstep and read, but she insisted on taking me to sample some Georgian wine. I assumed this meant a quick taster glass in a bar across the road. But no, she drove me to her favourite wine bar in the city and proceeded to ply me with 12 wine tasters and a range of snacks and appetisers: walnut and aubergine dips, freshly toasted flatbread, hummus, cheeses, cured meats and olives. Drool!

Mariam couldn't have been more friendly or welcoming, chatting about her country's history and politics and asking about how things were in Scotland. I really enjoyed the conversation, and came to understand the strength of spirit of the Georgian people, and their sometimes fractious relationship with their giant neighbour in the north, Russia. It's always a bit daunting when you arrive in a new city for the first time, especially in a foreign country, but this was easily the most enjoyable welcome I've ever experienced. Maybe if was because of the 12 glasses of wine, but I decided then and there that Georgia was abshulutely bril-hic!-liant...

The next day I woke, dazed, confused and glad I had already mapped out my itinerary a few days previously. First up, I visited Tbilisi Museum, packed with exhibits from the dawn of man right through to recent centuries - covering the eras of Persia, Rome, Greece, the Ottomans and Seljuks. Tantalisingly, there was a special display covering ancient Georgia's  Colchis era, and the wealth of gold and in particular its proliferation of expert goldsmiths. This tied right in with my Hittite interests and potential that the Golden Fleece legend happened at the time of Empires of Bronze. The exhibits were simply breathtaking. The level of skill and creativity from so long ago really shifted my perceptions of history. More, they sowed a dragon's tooth or two in my mind, which may well spring to life in the later books of Empires of Bronze :-).

Wonderful, eh? And the views from up on the fortress were even better. Here's a video - the final video of my trip - from up on those heights:

...the Great Hittite Trail adventure was at an end.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed and/or drew some inspiration from this.

Now go... explore!

And maybe take a copy of this to read along the way? ;-)

Into the unknown! That's how this leg of the expedition felt. An 18 hour sleeper-train across Eastern Turkey? The idea had thrilled me since I first planned it. I had notions of waking, parting my cabin curtains and seeing dawn pouring across the snow-capped Pontic Mountains, then whiling away the rest of the day gazing out of the window with my notepad and letting the muse take me.

The reality? Booking a cabin on this famous train is very, very difficult. You have to wait until a few weeks before the journey before you can book, and the few cabins are sold out within moments of becoming available. Anyway, enough whingeing, I still got a berth, but just a normal train seat.

Truth be told I almost didn't even make it onto the train. When my taxi dropped me off at Yerköy station, I had no ticket or confirmation. The TCDD app had confidently told me I needed only produce my passport to get my tickets at the station. Ha! Yerköy is a small town and the station was pretty basic. The chap in the ticket office  - who had the patience of a saint - didn't speak a word of English, and I only command a really basic Turkish vocabulary, Google translate rode to the rescue - kind of. There were a few comedy mis-translations (one involving me claiming "I have already burned my tickets"). Good job I had got there 2 hours before the train's arrival because it took over one and a half hours to search the TCDD system and prove that I had bought tickets. Me and the station master actually did an ecstatic high five once we found them :)

Famished, and having read the advice that the train sometimes didn't have much food on board, I grabbed a lamb pide and a bottle of juice. I assumed it was some kind of soft drink... then I noticed it was actually 'hot black carrot juice'? Eh?! Well, try everything once, I say. I did, and I won't be trying it again. It tasted something like spicy dishwater. Urk!

This was the vision I had been waiting for. Silhouetted hills, rolling dusty plains, Cliffs and crags. These were the lands that the Hittites once roamed, honouring the spirits of every rock, wood and vale. And the landscape changed after a time. The train plunged into mountainside tunnels, emerging into successively rockier and more lofty ranges - chiselled walls of terracotta that stretched for the sky - some capped with snow even though the ground-level heat remained sweltering. For every height there was a matching ravine, with opaque, emerald brooks, fed by toppling, silvery waterfalls. Now I was in my element!

I left my seat behind and began patrolling the train in search of good windows from which I could take photos or simply observe (and wait for the muse to come!). It was simply magical, and at one point I was entranced by a green river and the way the sunlight was sparkling on its surface... then I realised (with a quick check of the map) that it was actually the upper Euphrates - one of the most famous and ancient rivers in the world.

The highlight - by far - was my find of the mail carriage. It was deserted. No mail bags, no furniture - just an empty shell of a carriage... with huge doors on either side, lying wide open! So, with a form grip on the rail next to the door and my camera set to video mode, I tried to capture the moment...

My train journey ended at the city of Erzerum, which deserves a special mention because - although it is small and not quite the 'beautiful' tourist city, it is very authentically Turkish, and that is what I was here to see. I only had a short overnight here, but I did manage to browse the historic city centre and its very wonderful mosque and medrese. Even better, I was introduced to a Trabzon Pide here - a deliciously calorific cheese, egg and bread concoction that went wonderfully with a chilled pint of Efes :)

​

Empires of Bronze: Son of Ishtar is available now in eBook, paperback and audiobook formats.

Hattusa. This place had haunted my days and dreams for over six years. I had pieced it together mentally thanks to a variety of maps and photographs online, but I had craved this moment, to be here where 3,000 years ago the Hittite Empire flourished.

All the way on the 3 hour bus from Ankara to Sungurlu, then again during the dolmus ride towards the town of Boğazkale, I scoured the horizons, waiting, eager, watching sierras and cliffs rise then peel away as we sped closer and closer. Would I even recognise the mountainside of Hattusa amongst this highland region?

But the moment the rolling, rocky masif arose from the eastern skyline, I felt a hot thrill of recognition - a great sense of arrival. 'That's it!' I proclaimed - somewhat startling the elderly Turkish gent in the dolmus seat in front of me. 'Look, see the ravine - that's cut by the Ambarlikaya river. The tor on the right - that's the acropolis. And on the left, that's Tarhunda's Shoulder!' I gibbered away to anyone who was interested. 

The dolmus pulled into the small town of Boğazkale, situated at the western foot of the mountain ruins. I hopped out, dropped my bags into the excellent Hittite Houses hotel. Sitting in the leafy shade of the hotel gardens, I wolfed down a quick lunch of bread and tomatoes, before arming myself with my backpack - water, headscarf, camera being the usual essentials.

And there was one other thing vital to this walking tour: the guide book I had bought in the Ankara Museum of Anatolian Civilizations. It's perfect - containing a route map and concise but informative explanations of the ruins on show at every step.

Off I went on the short (~1km) walk up the quiet country road that leads to the ruin site. But like all adventurers, I was waylaid by two almost impassable obstacles. First: a wild cherry tree, heavy with fat, glinting, red and ripe fruit. I simply had to stop and stuff my face with these. Never in my life have I tasted cherries as pleasant as these ones.

Next up, I was assailed by a ferocious monster! Not quite. It was actually a wild tortoise, ambling across the middle of the road. I don't know how often traffic passes along this road, but I wasn't minded to leave the wee fella like that, so I lifted him over to the side of the track he was headed for.

Tortoises tamed and cherries guzzled, I rounded the bend in the track and entered a pleasant stip of shade cast by a stand of pine and birch trees. The sound of a high breeze, sussurating through the branches provided an extra sensation of coolness. But then I heard something else: running water. I knew what this was before I saw it - the Ambarlikaya (or River Ambar, as I call it in Empires of Bronze). This was the waterway - sacred to the Hittites - that ran through their capital all those years ago and still does even now. This is where Prince Hattu and his brother Muwa, swam and played as children. This is where the Wise Women of the Hittite Empire would have prayed and divined.

A few hundred yards on the trees opened up and I once saw the site before me. Dominant in the foreground was the stretch of reconstructed lower town walls. These stout defences would have run for some 7 miles all around the mountainside.

So here I was! Hattusa was first 'discovered' by Charles Texier in 1834. Seemingly he was stunned by the place and it's sheer scale and architectural ambition - and I could see why: the interior wards and fortifications of the city are built on the most precipitous of rocks and crags, and the expanse of the place simply blew me away.

Here's a vid of my first impressions:

I got my bearings then began to follow the route map in my guide book. First, I came past the Storm Temple - the greatest and most sacred of the many Hittite temples. This one was - as the name suggests - built to honour the Hittite Storm God, Tarhunda.

Like all Hittite temples, the focal point was an open-air central plaza, at the corners of which niche-rooms housed statues of Tarhunda himself and his divine wife Arinniti, Goddess of the Sun. More, the temple was ringed by a huge ward of warehouses and workshops, where the clergy and temple artisans lived and worked.

After the Storm Temple, the path leads steeply uphill, through the foundation ruins of the original city's outer walls and ascending to the later 'Upper City'. All the way, the Hititte fondness for ultra-ambitious architecture stunned me. There were gates perched on bluff edges and forts planted up on towering rocky pillars like eagle's eyries. Rather stirring was the sight of a falcon soaring up on the thermals. I felt a true frisson of emotion then, wondering if Hattu might have watched his pet falcons fly like this, right here.

The 'Upper City' was built in the time of our hero, Hattu from Empires of Bronze. This extension to the capital was spread all across the sprawling heights to the south of the original city, doubling the size of the place. The strange thing is, the new ward is comprised almost entirely of temples. Scores of them. And atop the high outcrops of rock between the temples, the Hittites built lofty fortresses. Yerikale and Sarikale (yellow castle) are the two most impressive of these. And the whole Upper City region was encompassed in massive buttress walls - double-layered in places.
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So why the many temples and fortresses? Why the sudden need to double the city's size? Those are the questions I examine in this next video:

Down through past the Upper City's eastern walls we came, past hieroglpyh chambers and more temple ruins, back into the original city before finally approaching the acropolis. This was the centre of the capital - the fortified residence of the Hittite Labarna. Here, foreign kings would have come to pay homage to their Hittite master in a grand hall. Here, Hattu, his ancestors, father, brothers and children would have lived.

Here's my video, taken up on the acropolis. I try to summarise my thoughts and feelings about the place on what had been an incredible day. After so long, I had finally walked the same ground as Hattu and the line of Hittite Kings!

After nearly 15k of walking - most of it steeply uphill - I felt surprisingly fresh, But on the way back to my hotel - probably once the adrenalin started to subside - my legs began to ache. When I reached the hotel, Denis, the owner, was running a birthday party for his young son. I sat down in a quiet part of the restaurant, ordering and enjoying a delicious meal of doner and rice with an ice-cold beer. Then Denis came over, kindly bringing me a bowl of popcorn and a giant slice of birthday cake to enjoy :)

Off to bed I went, replete, exhausted... and exhilarated.

The next day, I awoke feeling stecky (a Scottish term meaning stiff) but well-rested, I sat on the porch of my room in the morning sunshine, enjoying a traditional Turkish  breakfast of tomatoes, cucumber, olives and cheese, along with fresh apricots from Denis' orchard and a super-strength coffee!

I was due to leave later on in the day after this all-too-short visit, but I still had time to see two more close-by and crucial Hittite sites.

First up, Yazilikaya - the ancient Rock Shrine out in the nearby countryside.

The walk from Boğazkale​ to Yazilikaya is about 3km. not too bad, but in 30 degree heat and with zero shade... and all sharply uphill, you'd be advised to take the usual hat, water and good walking shoes.

All that aside, the trek there is pretty special. I did it on a perfectly still summer's day, along the winding tarmac road that rises past Hattusa's northernmost promontory (Tarhunda's Shoulder), giving excellent views of the precipitous battlements on that end of the city, and then splendid vistas across the countryside near Hattusa. I did this in July, and the land to the west was a patchwork of rolling green, gold and hazy terracotta and grey nearer the horizon. The fields were freckled with poppies, buttercups and tulips and misted with a haze of butterflies. East and south was dominated by the Hattusa massif... but northwards was strange - a green and constantly rising land, studded with silvery warts of rock. One of which stood proud, and I knew - just as I knew when I saw Hattusa from a distance - that I had arrived at the famous rock shrine.

Yazilikaya, literally 'The Written Rock' is rather aptly named, for some of the finest extant Hittite reliefs are to be found here. They venerated this place almost as much as the great Storm Temple in Hattusa. During Hittite times the steps (see the image, above) would have been covered  with a vestibule of sorts which would have led right up to the jagged 'crown' of rock on the left of the pic. Inside the 'crown' sit two roofless chambers (known as A & B), adorned with images of Hittite Gods, Kings and legends. The place was  embellished throughout the reign of the Hittites, with some of the final modifications dated to the very last of the Hittite Kings.

After Yazilikaya, I headed back into Boğazkale, and to the Hittite Museum there. It is small-ish but thoughtfully laid out inside, and it does a fine job of telling the Hittite 'story' It also houses Roman, Byzantine and Phrygian finds from the local area, but it is first and foremost a Hittite exhibition. Here are some of my best pics:

Brimming with facts and ideas, I left the museum behind (dropping off more of my bookmarks on the way out!) and caught a lift to the nearby town of Yerköy, where I was scheduled to catch the famous 'Eastern Express' sleeper train that would take me across Turkey - right through the ancient Hittite heartlands - and to the country's eastern edge. The next part of this blog series will chart my rail-based adventures!

Despite many visits to Turkey, this was my first proper foray across the country's interior, and it began on the high speed train from Istanbul's Karikoy region (the part on the Asian side of the city). We whizzed through the outer suburbs of the city and soon we were in a green, hilly paradise. It brought to mind Seton Lloyd's description of the Turkish landmass:

I settled back, popped in my earphones to listen to an H.G. Wells audiobook (War of the Worlds) and drank in the views of the wooded hills, river vales and hazy summer sky. Having paid a whole 36 Turkish Lira (roughly £4.50) for this 4 hour train trip, I had in my backpack a bottle of water and a rather uninspiring pretzel. After all, this was economy class, so you have to bring your own grub, right?

Wrong! The trolley chap came along and started loading food onto my table: fruit juice, fresh bread, dried apricots, olives, salad, cheeses, cakes, coffee... a veritable feast - all complimentary with the economy service. I'm not sure he understood why I started gibbering in gratitude, but thankful I was and I munched away for the next hour of the trip.

As we gradually ascended onto the inner plateau, I was reminded of another traveller's description of the changing landscape. Gertrude Bell, writer and archaeologist said:

​Very evocative! I really did feel like I was entering a different land - cooler (still sweltering though) higher and differently shaped. And the city of Ankara itself is very different to Istanbul. Smaller - just the 5 million people here! - and with a very different vibe. It isn't as 'pretty' as Istanbul, but it does have its own type of ascetic beauty. Spread across the wide open hills and plains like a defiant outpost it more accurately personifies Turkey as a country.

Another bonus is that the prices here are vastly cheaper than in Istanbul.​​ After arriving in central Ankara, I enjoyed a lunch of tasty doner kebab and cold coke which cost less than 2 quid, and the '2017 hotel' (breakfast included) cost £20 per night - good value for a traveller on a budget.

First, I had to visit the Anitkabir - an iconic structure that defines modern Turkey, and has Hittite connections. I'll let my YouTube vid explain:

But the main reason I was here in Ankara was for its famed Museum of Anatolian Civilizations - an absolute treasure trove of history, with exhibits ranging from the stone age, the Hittite period and all the way through to Byzantine times.

I wasn't sure just how much Hittite stuff I would find here. What if the Hittite collection amounted to no more than a few bits and pieces? So I was absolutely thrilled to see, on my approach, this giant replica of a Hittite totem (known as a huwasi)... as well as some other rather light-hearted Hittite references...

Inside the museum was even better. Laid out in successive epochs, starting with the paleolithic era, it beautifully tells Anatolia's story with a selection of glass-case artefacts, interactive big screens and tableau recreations of ancient homes. I could actually 'see' Hittite culture emerging into history, especially with the variety of sun disc artefacts dating from the late 3rd/early 2nd millenium BC. The sun disc would go on to become a Hittite royal symbol by around 1600 BC.

Then I came to the Hittite section proper. The first thing that struck me was the number of tablets. Beautiful and majestic things. Whole and undamaged unlike the Kadesh treaty. There was even one incredible bronze slab, laced with chains, authored by King Tudhaliya IV, son of our hero, Hattu. 

​A bronze handled sword with an iron blade. A very interesting find and one that stokes the old 'did the Hittites use iron weapons' debate.

Empires of Bronze: Son of Ishtar is available now in eBook, paperback and audiobook formats,

For the last few decades I have developed an unhealthy obsession with The Aegean and Turkey - a land riddled with history, steeped in legend and lore. Every book I have written has been set in or around that region. I have been fortunate enough to enjoy a number of forays around the lands of Constantinople (Istanbul), Greece, southern Thrace (European Turkey and Bulgaria) and around Turkey's western and southern coastal regions. But apart from a few expeditions inland - to Pergamum, Ephesus and Pamukkale, I had never yet truly penetrated the rugged interior or north of Turkey.

Madness! Considering my Strategos trilogy was set up there in the borderlands between the Byzantine and Seljuk domains. Insanity! Given my new Hittite series, Empires of Bronze, was based up there too. And it's this current series that drove me to finally plan and execute this adventure - a trip that would take me from Istanbul, three millenia ago the western edge of the Hittite realm, to Georgia, on the eastern periphery of the ancient Hittite world.

So join me in my travels across this ancient land as I seek out remnants of the once-great and long lost civilization of the Hittites. Join me... on the Great Hittite Trail!

An interactive Google Map of my journey, across northern Turkey and into Georgia, passing through some key Hittite sites along the way ( with all the landmarks, train stations, hotels, restaurants etc pinned for reference.).

Where else to begin the journey, but in the place known to countless millions simply as 'the city'? I've been to this ancient metropolis a number of times now. On every single occassion I have been struck dumb by the aura of the place. It's something sensory and spiritual at once: the balmy heat on the skin, the scent of spices and roasting meats, the storm of colours and spectrum of architecture, the crash of the waves on the sea walls and the other-wordly paean of the call to prayer that  - every single time I hear it - sends shivers of awe up my spine as I think back through the many civilizations who have inhabited this hilly peninsula, the people who have walked here, who have lived and died here. Their lives, their stories.

It's always the Hippodrome region that gets me most of all - something about the open space and how it allows the hustle and bustle of the city to just glide over me like a gentle breeze. I could sit there for hours and hours and just contemplate. And while I was here I did just that - equipped with my Kindle, a tasty kebab and a few cold drinks (and abetted in my eating efforts by some of the local street cats).

There are so many Roman and Byzantine ruins to see here (covered in my Walking Through Constantinople blog), but this time I was here in search of the Hittites! The site of Istanbul probably hosted a village or small citadel back in the Bronze Age, but whatever was here in those days was never part of the Hititte Empire, The Hittite 'realm' stretched across most of Anatolia (Asian Turkey), and controlled a ring of vassal kingdoms around its periphery. The closest of those vassals would have been Troy, just across the Sea of Marmara. 

So why was I here if there was no direct Hittite connection?
One, because it's where my plane landed!
Two, because I adore this city and
Three... because there is one monumental Hittite artefact here... let me explain:

The Istanbul Archaeological Museum is a must-see. I've been round it several times to take it all in: there is the Alexander Sarcophagus, pieces of Pergamon's Temple of Zeus, Exhibits from Troy, parts of the Gates of Babylon. Roman statues and military remains, Byzantine naval reconstructions. Relics, artefacts... everything.

And the one thing I had neglected to pay due attention to on all those previous visits: the Hititte-Egyptian Peace Treaty of Kadesh.

So what's the significance of this treaty? Well, over 3,000 years ago, the Hittites and the Egyptians were the superpowers of their day. When they went to war - as one old Turkish man described it to me - it was the real first world war. Everyone was dragged to battle with one side or the other. Kingdoms and nomadic tribes were compelled to march with the Hittite Labarna or the Egyptian Pharaoh. They met at a place called Kadesh in modern-day Syria. On that baking field of combat, they nearly destroyed one another. Both sides boasted of victory, and then came to realise, slowly and horribly, that they had each in fact lost immeasurably.

Years later, both still traumatised by the clash, the great states came together and agreed the remarkable treaty of peace and harmony. Neither wanted to see a repeat of that great war. The Hittite version of the treaty was originally recorded on a great silver slab. But the Hittites were meticulous in their record-keeping, and copies were made. We know this because the tablet that survives to this day is a copy, written on a slab of baked clay. When the clay was wet and soft, the Hittite scribes would have marked the treaty details into the clay using a wedge in a writing system known as cuneiform a-script, before putting the clay in kiln to bake it hard and dry. The language on the treaty is very evocative, and the desire for true peace shines through.

What is remarkable, surprising and at the same time, perfectly apt, is that a copy of this tablet stands proudly on display at the ​Security Council Chamber of the United Nations in New York - as an example of altruistic peace between nations.

Most electrifying of all was the fact that Hattu - the protagonist in Empires of Bronze - would have been involved in the writing of this tablet, and would almost certainly have held it and rolled his sylinder seal along the completed copy before it was baked. I must admit it brought a lump to my throat to think of that strange temporal bridge, three thousand years long, between me and him. What a poignant and amazing start to my Hittite adventure!

I spent the rest of my few days in Istanbul touring some of my favourite Roman and Byzantine sites and some that I had previously been unable to get to. The Column of Marcian, erected in the 5th century AD in honour of the eponymous emperor, was a wonderful find - nestled away in the tight streets between Istanbul's Fatih and Eminönü wards.

After snapping away with my camera for a while, I felt the afternoon sun growing a little too strong (it was hot that day!) so I retreated to a nearby street cafe, ordered a Turkish coffee (think you've had strong coffee? think again!) and admired the marble column from the pleasant shade.

On my way back to my hotel (Naz Wooden House hotel - charming and very affordable if basic) in the historic centre of Istanbul (the Sultanahmet district), I passed through a quite incredible street celebration - more like a show of defiance - about the recent election results which had confirmed President Erdogan's loss of Istanbul. The atmosphere here was absolutely electric, with skirling zurna pipes, banging drums, crowds chanting and dancing, punching the air. Great banners of Atatürk - Turkey's founding president whose manifesto was something of an antithesis to Erdoğan's policies - fluttered in the air over all of this.

By the time I got through the crowds and back to the Sultanahment region I was so hot and sweaty I decided to go for a haircut to help cool me down. It was a vigorous and quite enjoyable experience involving hot towels, lemon juice, matches and all sorts of implements. The end result was a shorn and much cooler head :)

The following day I skirted around the magnificent Valens Aqueduct - the scene for some vertigo-inducing combat in Legionary: The Blood Road - before stopping for a must-have Istanbul lunch: a freshly caught fish sandwich (who knew sandwiches could swim?) at the run of cafes under the Galata Bridge, overlooking the Golden Horn.

In the afternoon, I finally got a chance to visit one of the city's many subterranean Roman cisterns that had previously eluded me. The Binbirdirek Cistern (the name is Turkish for 'Cistern of 1001 columns') was constructed in the reign of Constantine the Great in order to supply water to the Imperial Palace. It's less well known and maintained than the Basilica Cistern, and on my visit there was nobody else there at all! But that made it all the more atmospheric for me. The weakly uplit vaults, the smell of dampness and the starngely muted echoes of my footsteps and breaths gave me a strange sense that I was not alone down there. The experience was all I hoped it might be - and I even came back out with a creepy book scene planned out in my head. Crazy to think that the place was used as a rubbish dump for centuries.

The last evening in Istanbul was rather pleasant. After enjoying a meal of sea bass and wine on a rooftop terrace overlooking the Bosphorus, I then decided to wander down to the Palatium cafe - a splendid and very relaxed place with an incredible glass floor looking down upon the excavated ruins of the Magnaura Roman Palace. So I had to stay for a while, didn't I? I had no option but to have several beers, did I? I was practically obliged to try a Shisha pipe for the first time, wasn't I? 

Anyway, dizzy from beer and smoke but aware that I needed to be up early to catch the train to Ankara, I headed back to my apartment... only to be accosted by this little chap!

• My map of all hotels, sights and travel connections
• Getting there: be aware that the Atatürk airport is now permanently closed. All incoming flights now arrive at the new international airport on the northern side of the peninsula (this caught us out - our air tickets still listed the old airport as the destination). 
• Be prepared to pay the same as you would in the UK for meals etc here. It's well worth it though.
• If you can, rent a place in the Sultanahment district - so much more atmospheric and history-packed than the Galata/Taksim region.
• On your phone, download maps of Istanbul before you go. GPS doesn't need mobile data so you can safely and freely use GPS to navigate using the saved offline maps.
• Ditch the backpack and take a bum bag - much less hassle and really convenient and safe. Also, no sweaty back!
• Leaving: note that to catch the intercity train through to Ankara, the nearest stop is over on the Asian side of Istanbul. Fortunately it's easy enough to get to - via the Sirkeci İstasyonu station on the Marmaray line (which takes you under the Bosphorus!)

A full gallery of my visit to Istanbul is available here on Facebook (Like and follow, please!)

Thanks for reading this first part of my travelogue. I hope I've whetted your wanderlust and ignited an interest in the Hittites - in my opinion they are one of history's greatest and least understood civilizations. If I may be so bold as to sign off this part with a bit of self-promotion, then allow me to point you in the direction of my Hittite fiction series Empires of Bronze.
​Book 1, Son of Ishtar, is available now in eBook, paperback and audiobook formats for as little as a few quid. Perhaps the perfect read to take with you on the above expedition? :)