“Did you follow me when I was abducted by the nomads?”
“Senna told me later that you’d been taken. I’d gone on ahead of the caravan, so I knew nothing of your absence un til I saw you with the child.” Minnakht eyed Bak narrowly.
“What did they say of me?”
“I was threatened with death if I didn’t help find you. Does that not tell you in what great esteem they hold you?”
Minnakht’s brow wrinkled in thought. “They might wish your help so they can slay me. Or are they, like User, looking for gold?”
Bak decided to assume the question rhetorical. “I’d planned to cross the sea and go to the mountain of turquoise, but with your father so eager to see you, we must return to
Kemet without delay. I suggest we travel south along the coast and go back by way of the southern route. At this time of year, with caravans coming and going, transporting sup plies for the mines and carrying ore to the land of Kemet, we should be able to travel in complete safety.”
“Will User remain with you?”
“I believe he will.”
“If I were to travel with you, I’d be placing my life in his hands.”
“Maybe,” Bak said doubtfully.
“I can see that you’re unsure of me, and I don’t blame you.
We’ve barely met.” Minnakht gave him an understanding smile. “You need more time to reconcile yourself to the fact that I still live. I suggest you go on to the mountain of turquoise, and I’ll meet you upon your return.”
“You wish me to drag out your father’s agony? No. We’ll travel to Kemet immediately.”
Minnakht stared at him, unhappy with what amounted to a ultimatum. “I’ve two donkeys hobbled north of here, far from food or water. I must go get them. I’ll follow you to the sea, and meet you there before day’s end.”
“Kaha and Nebre will accompany you.”
“You trust me so little?” Minnakht’s laugh carried a hint of bitterness. “Trust goes two ways, Lieutenant. If you send them with me, I’ll slip away and you may never see me again.”
“What would you do?” Bak jeered. “Slink off into the wilderness and hide forever, living like a frightened animal?”
“I do miss the land of Kemet,” Minnakht said with a rueful smile. “I’ll meet you, that I promise. If not today, then tomorrow.” He must have noticed the lack of conviction on
Bak’s face. His smile faded. “If for some unaccountable rea son, I fail to do so, I’ll follow you wherever you go. Senna told me you were a man of your word, one who never fails to do his duty. If I’m ever again to see my home and my father, you’re the man who’ll keep me safe.
“All I ask is that you watch User and wait for him to reveal himself as a slayer. I grant the possibility that the guilt lies elsewhere, but I think the likelihood small.” Minnakht leaned forward, as if to physically impress Bak with his plea.
“Whatever you do, you must tell no one I live. Ahmose van ished nearly a year ago and other men have since been slain.
I’d not like to follow them to the netherworld.”
Bak studied the man seated before him, letting the silence build. He found him to be likable in spite of what he sus pected was an irrational fear. He could not and would not en tirely trust him-Minnakht or not, he was a stranger-but he saw no reason to spread the word that the young explorer lived. “I’ll say nothing, that I vow.” He glanced at Nebre and
Kaha and added, “My men will also remain silent.”
Chapter 13
“The nomads have gone,” User said, stating the obvious.
Bak scowled at the empty fishing camp, built on the shore of the Eastern Sea. “They’ve avoided us throughout our jour ney. Why should this place be any different?”
He was thoroughly irritated with Nefertem. He did not know for a fact that the tribal chief had told his people to stay away from the caravan, but he strongly suspected such was the case. Why could the man not help rather than hinder?
He and the explorer led the caravan into the camp, where men and donkeys gathered on the beach between two rough huts and the water’s edge. The shelters could not have been more basic. Spindly acacia branches supported roofs covered with brush held in place by rocks. They would not provide much shelter during a storm, but would suffice for men wish ing to sleep through the heat of the day. A larger, rectangular hut farther along the beach showed signs of occupation by animals-donkeys and goats, Bak guessed.
He strode to an unpainted wooden boat lying on its side well above the waterline. It and three similar vessels had been overturned and left in a row to dry in the hot sun. He squatted to feel the sand beneath the small craft.
“They’ve not been gone for long,” he said, standing up and brushing damp sand from his hands.
Bak’s Medjays and the other men, long deprived of baths, eyed the sea with eager anticipation. Wensu abandoned his fellows and ran into the water, which splashed around his legs.
“Not so fast!” User growled, wading in to grab his arm and usher him back to the shore. “The donkeys must come before your pleasure.”
Wensu had the grace to blush.
Bak stood at the water’s edge, where the tiny swells washed over his feet. The beach was a long, empty stretch of pale sand curled around a bay whose waters were a deep blue green. The sand was soft, stirred up all around the huts and boats by the nomads, and in one place he noticed a gridlike pattern where a net had been stretched out to dry. For as far as the eye could see to north and south, not a tree or bush inter rupted the shoreline. Seabirds were everywhere: soaring overhead, diving for fish, standing on the beach to dry their wings.
“I don’t see any of my boats,” Amonmose said, striding up beside him and staring out to sea.
“How best can we raise a signal?” Bak refused to think that help might be slow to come.
“Let me show you.”
The merchant walked slowly along the line of boats, studying the wooden masts resting on the ground. He stopped at the tallest and called to Nebenkemet, who was poking around in a basket tied to the back of a donkey. The carpenter pulled a roll of whitish fabric from the container.
He shook it out, revealing a long-sleeved tunic that was none too clean, and hastened to Amonmose’s side.
Bak helped the merchant tip the boat, raising the mast off the sand so Nebenkemet could tie the tunic to the upper end of the long, straight pole. Curiosity drew the other members of the caravan, who stood close by, watching. The merchant demanded rocks. While the men scattered, he, Bak, and Nebenkemet scooped out a shallow hole and set the vessel upright, its flat bottom resting in the cavity. The men returned with enough stone to anchor the hull in its sandy berth. The northerly breeze caught the fabric, making it blossom out and flap in the sun.
Smiling his satisfaction, Bak asked the men standing around, “Who wants fresh fish for our evening meal?”
They all raised their voices in eager anticipation.
Bak held out what looked like a bundle of loose, knotted cords he had found tucked into the prow of the upright boat.
“Have you ever fished with nets, Psuro?”
“I can learn, sir.”
“I have,” Wensu said, surprising them all. “My father has an estate a short way inland from the Great Green Sea. As a youth, I sneaked away with the men who fished its waters.”
A half-hour later, two boats were sailing out to sea. From the foremost, with Wensu in command, Kaha was paying out the net between his craft and that of Psuro and Nebre.
“I hope they don’t get lost out there,” User said, scowling at the vessels.
Bak flung off his filthy tunic, kilt, and loincloth and waded into the water. Nebenkemet was settling the donkeys in the shade of the elongated hut, while Minmose was excavating a shallow pit for a fire. Ani and Amonmose had finished their tasks and were enjoying their first real bath in days. “Wensu vowed they’d never lose sight of the shore.”