“How long ago did you hear?”
“Six or eight months, I suppose. When he failed to return, men began to talk.”
“He was an explorer, Amonmose was led to believe.”
“Ahmose by name, yes.”
As the merchant had said, few men explored this waste land and those who did were bound to know of one another.
“You knew him?”
“I’ve heard of him, that’s all. He trod the desert far to the north, in the vicinity of the trail that connects Mennufer to the Eastern Sea.”
“What was he doing this far south, I wonder?”
The explorer pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees. “I heard a few years ago that he knew Min nakht. Perhaps he heard the rumors of gold and thought to get a share.” He frowned, shook his head. “No, that couldn’t be true. The first I heard of gold was when Minnakht failed to return to Kaine, long after Ahmose vanished.”
Minmose and Kaha lifted the pot off the fire, holding the hot vessel between two flexible sticks. Minmose pried the lid off to let the loaf cool. The smell of the fresh bread made the onlookers moan with anticipation.
“Have you decided to travel on to the mountain of turquoise?” Bak asked.
“Amonmose told the fishermen to sail south, you may’ve noticed.” User’s laugh held equal parts of cynicism and hu mor. “Any ship they meet, whether at the end of the southern trail or on the water, will most likely be sailing north. The odds are great that we’ll travel to the port that serves the mines whether we want to or not.”
“No, Lieutenant, we can’t remain. As soon as the donkeys are loaded, we must sail.” Captain Kheruef stood on the bow of the largest of the three cargo ships that had sailed into the bay an hour after daybreak, while Bak and Nebre were arm ing themselves, preparing to walk up the wadi in search of
Minnakht.
Resting his hands on the railing, the captain looked out across the water, watching a donkey struggling to get away from Kaha, who was swimming it out to the ship on which the animals would travel. “We carry plenty of food and water for ourselves, but ten extra men will strain our resources. As for the donkeys, you’re fortunate we’re transporting hay and grain for the caravan animals kept at the port.”
The three vessels, the largest in Maatkare Hatshepsut’s fleet, had been built several years earlier to sail to the distant land of Punt to trade for incense trees, exotic animals, ebony, and other luxury items. Rather than break the ships down and carry the pieces across the desert to be reassembled in Waset, as had been done with the rest of the fleet, these three had been left intact to haul men and equipment, and the turquoise and copper they mined, across the Eastern Sea. As User had guessed, they had been traveling north to the port when inter cepted by the fishing boat.
The ship on which the animals would travel had anchored as close to the shore as its broad, nearly flat bottom would al low. Often used to transport donkeys, it had been an easy matter to clear the deck of cargo so pens could be raised. A half-dozen sailors stood on the deck near the open railing where the gangplank would normally be. Their task was to lift the donkeys on board, using a sturdy wooden winch. Be neath them, Nebenkemet and two additional sailors caught the fractious donkey and slipped a sling beneath its belly. A man yelled and the donkey rose upward, kicking out and screaming in fear. Within a short time, it stood on deck as docile as it had been on the beach.
“You’ve done this before,” Bak said, appreciative of the ease with which the task was performed.
“There are few quays along the shores of this sea, Lieu tenant.”
“We’ll be gone for four hours, no more,” Bak said, contin uing a plea that had thus far fallen on deaf ears. “I wish to know if Minnakht stayed near.”
“From what you’ve told me of him, I’m more inclined to believe he’s deep in the mountains, hiding from shadows.”
Bak had had no qualms about relating his tale to the cap tain. He had thought it best to share with a man of authority the fact that Minnakht still lived. “We could-and probably should-refill the water jars at Amonmose’s fishing camp.”
“So I mean to do. We must also instruct the fishermen there to move across the sea to the port.” Kheruef watched another donkey, this one more sedate, being hoisted onto the ship. “I know you think them safe, and I’m inclined to agree, but we must warn them anyway. A short delay, but necessary, making a hasty departure from this bay even more urgent.”
Chapter 14
“Not quite what you expected, Lieutenant?” Lieutenant
Puemre, his eyes twinkling, stood with Bak on the bow of
Captain Kheruef’s cargo ship.
The vessel and its two attendant ships were anchored in front of the port that served the mines. A smaller, fleeter trav eling ship-used to carry messages, Puemre had ex plained-was moored with them. Bak likened it to a small, graceful dove sitting with three ostriches.
“No, sir,” Bak admitted. “Not even the southern frontier, with its barren and empty landscape, prepared me for this stark coast and no doubt lonely outpost.”
The two men stood at the railing, looking at the port for which Puemre was responsible across a narrow stretch of water so clear Bak could see fish swimming around the hull.
Within a wall built of stones, the various colors muted by dust, were a dozen or so single-story interconnected build ings inhabited by soldiers, a somewhat larger structure that served as military headquarters, and a storehouse easily identified by its vaulted roof. A rough stone quay jutted into the sea in front of the enclosure. A more casual village lay outside the wall. A few dwellings were similar to those of the army, but most consisted of a framework of spindly poles supporting mud-coated brush walls. Donkey paddocks lay south of the dwellings. A large plain spread out beyond the port, with haze-shrouded hills rising behind and jagged peaks in the faroff distance.
“You think it lonely now,” Puemre said, “you should visit us during the heat of the year when the mines are closed down.”
“I’m amazed that anyone remains.”
“This is a military base, and we must keep it manned throughout the year. Nomads come and go, and a surprising number of people dwell in the few oases scattered along the flanks of the mountains or in the wadis that cut through the highlands. And the fishermen come. Amonmose’s men and others who fish the Eastern Sea or the waters around the southern tip of this peninsula.”
“They all come to trade?” Bak asked, thinking of User and the objects he had brought across the Eastern Desert in the vain hope of trading with the nomads.
“Every ship brings items not easy to get in this empty land.
A goodwill gesture by our sovereign, well worth the effort.”
Bak pointed out User, seated on the deck between the mas sive oarlike rudders of the next ship in line, playing knuckle bones with Ani and Wensu. Several sailors toiled at the bow, singing a bawdy song while they scrubbed away the manure dropped by the caravan’s donkeys. He asked if the explorer’s trade goods would be welcome at the port. They would, so
Puemre said.
Amonmose had long since disembarked and was walking north along the shore to the place where his fishermen had begun to set up their camp. Psuro had gone with Nebenkemet to see to the donkeys’ well-being, while the other Medjays had boarded the third vessel to watch a final wrestling match in what had been an ongoing competition among the sailors.
The ship rose and fell on gentle swells, its hull and fittings creaking. At irregular intervals, schools of small fish sur 210
Lauren Haney faced, drawing seagulls in large numbers. The squawking birds plummeted out of the sky to gather on the water and feed. Amid the frenzy, a half-dozen terns swooped down to snatch fish on the fly. Several small boats lay on the shore above the waterline, and three feral dogs fought over the torn remains of a gull. Farther down the beach, a group of naked children were splashing in the shallows, their laughter ring ing through the clear air.