After cleaning his hands on the sand, Bak rose to his feet and joined User, Senna, and the boy. “The caravan must move on, Senna. If you wish to walk at its head, go with Psuro.”
“But, sir…”
“We’ve a long journey to the next well.” Bak’s voice was curt, allowing for no disagreement.
Senna flushed. “Yes, sir.”
The guide, who had managed to cling to the crag, thereby saving himself from being torn away by the flood as Bak and
Amonmose had been, had begged forgiveness. He had since been subdued, self-effacing. Bak had not meant to belittle him, but he wanted no argument from the man who might well have brought about his death.
Amonmose hoisted himself to his feet, threw away the last few bones, and walked to the boy. With a broad smile, he ruffled his hair and bade him goodbye. The child’s smile was shy, wistful almost, as if he thought himself losing a friend.
“Could I have a word with you, User?” Amonmose asked.
The explorer gave him and Bak a speculative look, evi dently realizing he was being steered away. He offered a farewell smile to the child and strode toward the waiting car avan with the trader.
When Kaha hurried up, Bak told him of User’s failure and asked him to question the boy further. “Rather than asking where his family is camped, try this time to discover why he won’t reveal where they are.”
Kaha stumbled through the question. The boy shrugged as if he did not understand. The Medjay tried again, receiving in return another shrug. After several further attempts, Kaha flung a desperate look at Bak and tried a fresh approach. He knelt before the boy and delivered a long, painfully difficult speech, looking often at Bak. After a while, the child began to offer a word when the Medjay failed to find one. His eyes grew wide and he often glanced Bak’s way.
“If you make him fear me, Kaha, he’ll never tell you what we wish to know.”
The Medjay chuckled. “I’m telling him how brave and strong you are and how clever you are when you face an en emy, using guile as well as arms to win the battle.”
Smiling at the boy, Bak said, “You’d best tell him that I have no intention of harming his family. Or any other nomad in this barren desert unless we’re forced to protect ourselves.”
Kaha passed on the reassurance. The boy gave Bak a grave look and nodded. He said something to Kaha, a few brief words. The Medjay asked a question. A stubborn look ap peared on the child’s face and he uttered the same words he had spoken before. Kaha stared long and hard as if willing him to say more. When he failed to respond, the Medjay picked up the basket containing the four remaining grouse, spoke a few words, and handed the container to him. The boy flung a quick smile at Bak and ran up the defile to his goats.
“What did he tell you?” Bak asked.
“All he’d say was that we travel with a bad man.”
A bad man. As if Bak needed to be told that. He suspected the boy spoke of Senna, but he could just as well have meant any of the other men in User’s party-or the watching man.
One thing he knew for a fact: the child had had no reserva tions about Amonmose.
So they could reach good shade in which to rest through the heat of the day, the caravan moved on. The sun beat down on the wadi floor, drying its surface. Birds appeared from out of nowhere to drink from puddles and gazelle could be seen in the distance, drinking their fill. Minmose claimed he could see new leaves already popping out on the silla bushes.
Amonmose refused to allow the donkey he swore had saved his life-as it probably had-to be loaded, saying it needed more rest. User adopted a severe demeanor, insisting he’d spoil the beast, and flung Bak a good-natured wink. The abundance of water had lifted the spirits of everyone.
Even the drovers seemed less disheartened, but they re mained as watchful as they had been since Dedu’s body had been found. Bak had a feeling they no longer trusted anyone, not even User, the man for whom they toiled. They continued to accept Nebenkemet’s help with the donkeys and the load ing, but were much more taciturn than before. When Bak sent Kaha to sound them out, they shook their heads, pre tending not to understand.
No one had seen any sign of the watching man since leav ing the gorge where last they had seen Dedu alive. Was he still watching them from afar? Or had the guide’s death been his ultimate goal, releasing the caravan from his constant scrutiny?
Convinced they were not yet free of him, Bak sent Kaha and Rona to scout the land through which they were travel ing, telling them specifically to look for the watching man.
After they left, he walked to the head of the caravan to in quire about the day’s trek. He found Senna to be unusually informative and anxious to please.
“Minnakht was more interested in this area, sir, than in any other place.” Senna motioned toward the rugged reddish hill sides all around them. “We spent almost two weeks explor ing the mountain slopes and the wadis, never straying more than a day’s march from water: the pools where we were when Dedu died, the well to the east that you and User spurned, and the gorge where we’ll spend this night.”
“Did you always remain within the triangle formed by those three water sources?” Bak asked.
“Now and then, he’d spot a faroff landform that he thought interesting or would find a stone that had been washed down a wadi from afar. If he believed them promising, we ventured farther afield.”
Bak wondered if Minnakht had restricted his explorations solely because of the proximity to water or if something had convinced him that he would find what he sought in the trian gular area Senna had described. User had never ceased to study the landscape through which they walked. He had dis 168
Lauren Haney played no special interest in anything he saw and derided the idea that gold would be found this far north. Eyeing the bro ken and eroded granite around them, Bak was inclined to agree.
“If you wish, sir, we could part from this caravan and I could take you to the places we explored. Minnakht might’ve seen something I missed and kept it to himself.” Senna spoke with a growing enthusiasm. “Who knows what we might find if we travel the path he took!”
Bak smothered a smile. He regretted that Amonmose was not close by to hear the offer-and the lure of wealth that made it sweeter. The trader’s mistrust of the guide far sur passed his own and his reaction would have been interesting to behold.
“I thought myself close to Minnakht,” Senna went on, “but
I’d not be surprised if he kept to himself whatever he found.
You’ve no idea how secretive these explorers can be when they think they’re close to finding something of value.”
The guide surely knew Bak did not entirely trust him. Was he so naive that he believed the thought of discovering gold would break down his defenses? “I think it best that we re main with User. We can explore these wadis and mountains more thoroughly on our return journey to Waset.”
Senna flung him a surprised look. “You plan to come back this way, sir?”
Bak could not be sure, but he thought he heard a touch of dismay in the nomad’s voice. “Unless I find Minnakht else where, we must. His father and Commandant Thuty would expect no less.”
“It’s clear to me,” Nebre said. “Senna wishes to separate
Lieutenant Bak from the caravan and slay him.”
“Where the lieutenant goes, we go,” Psuro said. “He knows that.”
Bak leaned back against the wall of rock behind him and watched the pair fill a goatskin waterbag, pouring water from a large pottery jar. “I must admit I was tempted to go with him, if for no other reason than to learn if he’s as innocent as he claims.”
“You wouldn’t, sir!” Psuro said, horrified.
“Not without taking precautions, no, but it might be worth the risk. If we knew for a fact that he wishes me dead, we could in all good conscience force the truth from him about
Minnakht. As for the men who’ve been slain since we set out from Kaine, he couldn’t have taken either life, but I’d not be surprised to learn that he knows who did.”