Normally Bak had no time for wild and imaginative tales, but the trader was no fool. He would not have mentioned this story if he thought it of no merit. “I feel a need to be entertained.”
“My Kushite servant, a man who wishes to help himself by helping his master, passed on this tale he heard in the house of pleasure of a one-time spearman, Tati.” Nebamon glanced at Bak, making certain he understood the rumor’s provenance. “The place is small, he said, and it was filled with farmers besotted by beer. The story was told by one who had come to Buhen with goats to trade, an old man from upriver.
“He told a tale of a headless man meeting a ship in the dead of night at some secret spot south of Kor. He talked of objects passing back and forth, some leaving the vessel and others being taken on board.”
“A headless man.” Bak gave the trader a skeptical look.
176 / Lauren Haney
“A man with his head covered more likely, or his face blackened.”
“So I thought, but you know how superstitious these local farmers are.”
Bak pictured a vessel bringing contraband down the Belly of Stones. He had heard there were places below the worst of the rapids hidden from the eyes of those who manned the watchtowers. And he remembered Ramose talking about Captain Roy, saying he sometimes took longer than necessary to sail from one place to another. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, not bothering to hide his interest. “Only the one boat, or more?”
Nebamon smiled. “I asked my servant that same question, and he said every man there pressed the farmer with a like query. The old man could give no answer-or he wouldn’t.
Each time the headless man came, he swore, the nights were dark, with the stars on fire but no moon.”
Bak probed for detail, but could get nothing more. “Have you mentioned this tale to anyone else, Nebamon?”
“No, I wanted no one making light of me, thinking me gullible.” The trader laughed sheepishly. “Nor did I want a man, headless or not, coming to me in the dark of night, thinking to silence me through eternity.”
“A wise precaution.” Bak stood up and took a turn across the floor, his legs propelled by a surge of excitement. Could this be the breakthrough he had been searching for? “Speak no more of this tale to anyone, and caution your servant to remain mute. The fewer who know, the better for both of us. You’ll be safer, and I’ll be free to track down unhampered the headless man.”
Looking as if a load had been lifted from his shoulders, Nebamon rose to his feet. Bak escorted him to the door and watched him walk down the street, close to certain he was free of guilt. Or had he set a clever trap, designed to lure an unwary police officer to his death?
He turned around to a silent entry hall and five men staring at him, their expressions a blend of disappointment and perplexity. Nebamon had failed to react to the coffin. For a moment, he was as puzzled as his men, then he remembered bumping into the trader a few days earlier, Nebamon coming out of the guardhouse, Bak entering. The trader had surely seen the coffin then.
“An old tomb south of Kor, Intef’s wife told you, and now Nebamon mentions a secret spot south of Kor.” Imsiba eyed Bak, his expression thoughtful. “Perhaps we should explore the river above Kor.”
“We’ll leave at daybreak tomorrow.” Bak looked out across the harbor, which was quieter than he had ever seen it, with river craft large and small snug against the quays, their crews chatting, fishing, dozing in patches of shade untouched by the midday sun. “Go talk to the fisherman Meru and tell him what we want: a boat small and sleek, one easily maneuvered among the many small islands and through shallow waters overgrown with reeds. And collect sufficient weapons. We’ll not go empty-handed and unprotected.”
Imsiba gave him a sharp look. “You think the tale a trap?”
“I think it best to take no chances.” Leaning against the terrace wall, Bak eyed three small, scantily clad girls squatting by the river’s edge, forming handfuls of mud into loaves of bread and cakes. “While you prepare for our journey, I must talk again with Ramose-and to the men who sailed with Captain Roy. Maybe now they’ll speak up.”
“They’re beginning to think they’ve been forgotten, so say the men who’re guarding them.” Normally the Medjay would have smiled at the sailors’ plight, but he remained glum.
Bak could easily guess the reason. “When you’ve finished your task, you must go to mistress Sitamon. She’s had time to think since last we spoke of her brother’s death. Maybe she’s remembered some small item important to us but not to her.”
Imsiba glanced at him, suspicious of his motive, but chose not to press the issue. Because it suited his purpose, most likely.
“Intef was planning to join my crew?” Captain Ramose gave Bak a surprised look. “He said nothing to me.”
“Never?” Bak asked.
“He made no secret of the fact that he’d like to see more of the river, to wander far and wide, but he had a family to care for, a farm.” Ramose shook his head. “No, it must’ve been talk, nothing but talk.”
So, Bak thought, Intef had not yet thought the time right to journey north with his small treasure. Had he expected to find more?
“I’ve been in these waters far longer than need demands, Lieutenant, and I’d like to set sail.” Ramose stood on the bow of his ship in his customary stance: legs spread wide and hands on hips. “I went out of my way to help, reporting the shipwreck and staying with it, making two journeys where one would serve. The least you can do is plead my case to Commandant Thuty.”
A flock of ducks flew low overhead, honking, searching for a patch of reeds in which to feed. A yellow cur wandered up the quay, following an invisible trail with its nose. A fish leaped out of the mirror-smooth river and fell back with a plop, waking a naked sailor, his back propped against a mooring post, his raised knees supporting a fishing pole.
The smell of burning onions wafted across the harbor from a brazier on another vessel.
“The commandant will soon come to a decision. I can do nothing to sway him.” Bak had grown weary of the promise, the denial, the pretense of a secret where none existed.
“Aren’t you looking forward to the party Thuty’s wife is planning for the vizier?”
Thrusting out his bulging, sweaty belly, Ramose snorted.
“Do I look the type to rub shoulders with the nobility?”
Bak laughed. “I spent my youth in the capital, where men of noble birth are thicker on the ground than weeds. Believe me, you’re no less of a man than they are.”
Ramose grinned, flattered yet unmoved. “I’ll wave to the vizier as I pass his flotilla somewhere between here and Ma’am. And while you’re rubbing shoulders with the great ones, sipping thin wine and nibbling stale cakes, I’ll be lounging on deck with my men, drinking the best beer brewed in Wawat.”
The captain was not joking, Bak realized. He would leave Buhen the instant Thuty gave the word unless something could be done to stop him. “You’d let one half-naked desert tribesman frighten you so badly that you’d miss the grandest party ever given in this land of Wawat?”
Ramose’s good humor vanished; he turned hostile. “What did I tell you before? My ship was not attacked. We ran aground.”
Bak scowled at him, disgusted. He could understand the local people’s reluctance to trust authority, but a respectable seaman from the land of Kemet should show more confidence. “How can I hope to protect you and yours if you won’t help me lay hands on the man who threatened you?”
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“Captain Ramose! Two men have been slain so large quantities of trade goods can be smuggled downriver. If you run away, saving yourself, others will die, of that I’ve no doubt.”
“No!” Shaking his head like an angry bull, Ramose backed away. He bumped into the forecastle with a thud, cursed, glared hard at his inquisitor. Words erupted as if torn from his throat. “All right!” He stepped forward, away from the forecastle, seething. “The bow was axed the night after I refused to haul contraband. No warning could’ve been more clear. So I kept my mouth shut, fearing I’d lose not just my ship, but my life and the lives of my crew.” His expression hardened, his voice pulsed with fury. “Now I’ve put us all at risk. Are you content?”