I said, "But it wasn't." It seemed safe.
"No, it-no. Last night…We were ashore. Do you remember that, Lucius?"
I said I did, though I did not.
"I caught a glimpse, more than a glimpse, really, of a-of a cat. An enormous cat, you understand. Very, very big. And black. Naturally I wondered."
"All cats are black at night," I said.
"No doubt." The scribe laughed. "No doubt at all. But still…Well, I began asking questions, and one of the sailors said he'd seen the woman not long ago. It wasn't Neht-nefret or Myt-ser'eu. He seemed quite certain of it. Another woman of about the same age, quite beautiful, wearing a lot of jewelry."
"He didn't speak to her?"
The scribe shook his head. "He was frightened, I'm sure. Perhaps he was simply frightened of her-I would be, I think. Perhaps he knew the cat would appear to protect her if he threatened her."
I said, "Could he have known that?"
"I don't see why not. The sailors aren't exactly open with me, and one of them might have tried it and not told us."
"You know it," I said, "or you wouldn't have spoken as you did. Did it happen to you?"
The scribe shook his head. "My master told me. I wasn't sure they were linked, the woman and the cat. But he says they are. When he says something like that, he knows. He says the cat is with her, invisible, until she's threatened. It shows itself then so that she can escape."
Uraeus whispered, "It cannot be with her always."
"I suppose not." The scribe shrugged. "There is a man who comes to the White Wall often who has a trained baboon, a big male. It will attack on command, or if it sees its master being attacked. He takes it with him whenever he goes out. But when he's at home it's locked in its cage."
I said, "Not an invisible baboon."
"No. One of the ordinary baboons who worship Ra. You say you haven't seen the cat down here, or the woman?"
"No. Not this time, at least. I suppose I could have been down here earlier, seen them, and forgotten it."
"I doubt it. You saw them both earlier, and described them to Qanju and me. You said the cat was large, half again as large as most cats."
I asked whether I had been afraid of it.
"I don't know. I doubt it. But the cat I saw was much larger than that. It must have been every bit as tall as a greyhound at the shoulder, with a tail as long as my arm." The scribe paused, biting his lips. "Sometimes unsuccessful exorcisms just make things worse. I was taught that in the House of Life, too; I'd almost forgotten it."
He paused to clear his throat. "Where did you get Uraeus, Latro?"
"My friend Sesostris gave him to me," I said.
"I-see. I don't like quizzing you like this, Latro. We've always been friends, and I'd like to stay friends. Do you happen to recall my name?"
Uraeus whispered it behind me, and I said, "You are Holy Thotmaktef."
"Right. I'm sorry to have troubled you." He spoke to my slave. "Uraeus, were you a slave in the temple of Sesostris up to the time we tied up there?"
Uraeus whispered, "Should I answer, master? I do not advise it."
"Yes," I said, "this time."
"I was not," he told the scribe.
"Where were you?"
Uraeus shook his head. There is something eerie about that, as I wrote earlier.
The scribe rose, wiping his palms on his thighs. "Lucius, will you order your slave to answer my questions?"
"No," I said. "Ask them of me, and I'll ask them of him if I choose."
"All right. There may not be many, and I'll ask this one of you. Will you please, as a favor to me, ask him to go over there under the hatch, where the light's better?"
I did.
"Now will you, as another favor, have him raise his chin?"
"Lift your chin," I told Uraeus. "There can be no harm in letting us see your neck."
He did. When I saw how wrinkled his neck was I knew he was older than I had thought.
"I was looking for a scar." The scribe seemed much more relaxed. "There isn't any."
I agreed.
"You said he'd been down here earlier alone, didn't you? Would you ask him whether he saw the cat-a huge black cat-or the woman down here then?"
I turned to Uraeus. "Did you?"
"No, master."
"Neither one?"
"No, master."
"Thank you," the scribe said. "I thank you both. A loyal slave who will hold his tongue is worth a great deal, Lucius. I congratulate you."
We watched the scribe climb the ladder to the deck, and I motioned for Uraeus to sit again. When we were both seated I said, "You understand that a great deal better than I do, I think. Probably better than Myt-ser'eu does, too. Explain it to me."
"No, master. Less than anyone, I fear. I had not heard of the cat until Thotmaktef mentioned it to us."
"But you had heard of the woman."
"Because I did not say I had not, master? No, no one had spoken of her to me. Do you wish to see her?"
"If you can show her to me."
"Then come, master." He led me to a bundle as long as I am high, a box wrapped in canvas and tied with rope. "She is in here, Master."
"Perhaps we shouldn't untie that," I said. "It doesn't belong to us, and there can't be a woman inside."
"I will not untie it, master." Uraeus looked up at me. I doubt that he ever smiles, but there was amusement in his slitted eyes. "Watch. I will show you this woman."
He lifted the lid without difficulty. The wax figure of a beautiful woman lay in the box. "I found this while hunting rats, master. I have an instinct for such things."
I was examining the wax figure. I lifted it, finding that my fingers thought it a real woman of blood and flesh, and laid it back in its box.
"Would you like to hear it speak?"
I shook my head. "I can easily believe that people have been deceived into thinking this wax woman real. Is that what you mean?"
"It is real, master. A real woman shaped of wax. If you change your mind and wish to hear it speak and see it walk, you and I might force the warlock to animate it, I think."
12
"ARE YOU TALKING about our commander, Uraeus?" I returned to the boxes on which we had been sitting. "That little old man from Parsa?"
"No, master." Uraeus joined me, bringing the lid of the wax woman's box. "Qanju is a Magi. Holy Sahuset is the warlock. He is a man of my own nation."
"The healer."
"Sahuset may heal at times, master. I do not know."
"He can make that figure walk and talk? That's the woman the scribe was talking about?"
"Yes, master. Even by day, perhaps, although those who saw her in Ra's golden light might not be deceived. By night he can, certainly. And in dark places, too, or so I would guess."
"Can you do it?"
To that question, Uraeus shook his head; if I had not been unnerved already, that would have done it.
"You are no common man," I told him. Like so many frightened men, I spoke too loudly.
"There are no common men," he whispered. "Only men others consider so. You yourself are not among those, master."
"I suppose you're right."
"Nor are there common women. Your Myt-ser'eu is no common woman, and neither is Neht-nefret. No more is Sabra."
I asked who Sabra was, and he pointed to the wax figure. "It is a trick known to many, master. The wizard makes an image and causes the image to live for a time. I know you forget many things, but if you have seen a staff carved to resemble a serpent, you may remember it."