Imsiba’s smile turned wry. “I feared for a moment I’d have the rest of the day to myself.”
Bak laughed, but quickly sobered. “Before anything else, you must search out Pashenuro.” He was speaking of the Medjay sergeant next in line behind Imsiba. “Tell him to find a place-an empty house in the outer city would be best-where we can sequester the sailors from the wrecked ship. They’ve told us close to nothing. With luck, a few days with no company other than each other will remind them of many details they claim now they’ve forgotten.”
“Lieutenant!” Ramose strode around the deckhouse to the coffin and rapped it with his knuckles. “What shall I do with this? If I’m to return to Pahuro’s village and bring back all we left behind, I’ll need every square cubit of deck space.”
Bak eyed the white man-shaped box, undecided. It had no place in a warehouse, and the priests at the house of death were always complaining about a lack of space. He had not noticed the titles of the deceased on the manifest, but doubted the man was of sufficient importance to convince the priest of Horus of Buhen to keep the coffin in a storeroom in the god’s mansion. He could think of only one place, one that did not appeal in the least. “Have it delivered to the old guardhouse, Imsiba. With luck, we can send it on to Abu within a couple of days. Perhaps on your ship, Captain Ramose?”
“Fair enough,” Ramose laughed.
Imsiba shook his head in mock despair. “Little did I know when first I set eyes on you, my friend, that you’d make me caretaker to a coffin.”
Bak clasped his hands before his breast and deepened his voice, mimicking the chief prophet of the lord Amon. “The mastery of many tasks separates a great man from an ordinary one.”
Imsiba tried to look pained, but a grin broke through.
Ramose’s laugh boomed across the harbor, drawing the attention of sailors and fishermen and ferrymen, drawing laughter
60 / Lauren Haney from the men who toiled nearby whether or not they understood the joke.
When the laughter died away, Bak said, “After you’ve finished with Pashenuro and the coffin, you must come back here, bringing Hori with you. You’ll oversee the transfer of cargo from this vessel to the appropriate warehouse and he, in turn, will record that transfer. In short, you’ll treat the ship as you do each new arrival in Buhen, but Ramose will pay no tolls.”
Commandant Thuty leaned back in his armchair, adjusted the thick pillow beneath his rear, and stretched his legs in front of him. He had a way of looking around the unadorned, white-walled room he called his office that left no doubt of the pleasure he took in his command. Bak stood facing him between two of the four red columns which supported the ceiling. Other than the chair, the room held no furniture.
Thuty used it for official appearances; his real place of business was his reception room in the family quarters on the second floor.
“You’ve done well, Lieutenant.” Rubbing the palms of his hands together, Thuty grinned like a delighted child. “Very well indeed. You’re to be commended for convincing the headman that it would be in his best interest and that of his village to reveal the hidden contraband. And for dealing with its return to Buhen in the best manner possible under the circumstances.”
So far, Thuty had dispensed nothing but praise, giving no attention to the few small objects Bak had given the villagers.
Maybe he would overlook them in light of the vast number of items recovered. “I was lucky Captain Ramose was there.
Many ship’s officers wouldn’t have been so helpful, so willing to delay their voyage north.”
Thuty unrolled the false manifest and glanced through it as he spoke. “When the viceroy hears of all you found-a respectable prize by any man’s standards-he’ll surely send word to the vizier. Who knows? That worthy official may even whisper the news in the ear of our sovereign, Maatkare Hatshepsut.”
Bak shifted his feet, uncomfortable with the thought. The one time he had drawn the queen’s attention, he had been torn from his duties as a charioteer and exiled to Wawat.
Fortunately, what had been intended as punishment had turned out to be a gift of the gods. He liked Buhen and wanted nothing to imperil his life on the frontier. “I don’t know what Pahuro meant to do with so much of value. He could barter away the cowhides with no trouble and an ingot or two now and again, but the remainder, all rare and costly items, would’ve brought officials without number into his village, each with questions he’d have no end of trouble answering.”
“He’d probably have come up with some wild tale of finding the objects strewn along the river’s edge, though how he’d account for anything as heavy as the ingots is anybody’s guess.” Thuty looked up from the manifest. “And the animals.
Caged the way they are, they’d make a lie of any claim that the ship sank while the creatures were on deck.”
Bak heard the soft patter of sandals on stone, someone crossing the audience hall, approaching the doorway behind him. Someone, he hoped, who would seek an interview with Thuty, giving him a chance to slip away and return to the harbor. “They were well tended when we found them, but I imagine the cages would sooner or later have been shoved into the river and the animals drowned so their skins could be safely taken. The villagers couldn’t release them, nor do they have the wealth to feed them for long.”
Thuty looked back at the manifest and ran his finger down the listed items. “I see no mention of an elephant tusk.”
“No, sir.” A rivulet of sweat crept down Bak’s breastbone, tickling him. “When I saw the shelter and all those precious objects, I prayed to the lord Amon a tusk would be among them. He failed to respond.” The tale was true, but the plea had been made mainly so his life and Nebwa’s could return to normal, with no more wretched inspections. If they 62 / Lauren Haney had discovered that Roy had been smugling ivory, their job would have been done.
Thuty glanced past Bak and raised his hand, signaling whoever stood at the door to wait outside until he was free.
He rerolled the scroll, planted his elbows on the arms of his chair, and stared hard at the younger officer over pyramided fingers. Bak stiffened.
“You’ve many admirable qualities, Lieutenant, but now and again you demonstrate a lack of good judgment surprising in a man as competent as you-as you did this morning.”
“Sir…”
“Pahuro and the people of his village took as their own many precious objects which by rights belong to the royal house. Without your intervention, they’d not have given them up, yet you rewarded them with a portion of their plunder.”
“Yes, sir.”
Thuty’s expression hardened. “I’m responsible for meting out justice along this sector of the river. You are not. Is that clear, Lieutenant?”
Bak felt the blood rush to his face. “Yes, sir.” He had expected official disapproval. Never once had he thought he might be treading on the commandant’s authority.
Still smarting from Thuty’s chastisement, Bak hurried to the harbor to set in motion the inspection of Mahu’s ship.
He found the captain near the stern, sitting on an overturned woven reed basket. He was chatting with Lieutenant Kay, a short, broad-shouldered man of thirty or so years who stood on the quay, resting a hip on a mooring post. Kay was new to Buhen, an infantry officer transferred a month or so earlier from the more southerly fortress of Semna.
Bak raised his baton of office in greeting and led his men on board. While they spread out across the deck, he walked to the bow and climbed into the forecastle. From there, he could see much of the ship-and he had the privacy he needed to cool his heated temper.
He resented Thuty’s accusation that he had overstepped his bounds. Well, maybe he had, but in a small way and with no ill intent. One thing he knew as a certainty: he could not go back and undo what he had done. In fact, he was not sure he would if he could. What were the few insignificant objects he had given the villagers compared to the riches of the royal house? As for Thuty…