"Perhaps I have seen such staffs," I said, "since I feel sure that seeing a staff like that would not surprise me."
"Warlocks have them, master, and anoint them with the blood of serpents. They throw them down, and the wooden serpent lives for a time. I fought such a serpent once." Uraeus does not smile, or so I believe; but he came near it then. "The trick is easily done, and the box that surprised you easier still. Do you not wish to examine this lid?"
I carried it to the sunlight under the hatch; its canvas and ropes had been glued to the wood.
"The ends of these ropes touch the ends of the others, master," Uraeus explained. "The cloth to which they cling has itself been glued to the lid. One must look carefully in Ra's light to see it as it is."
I nodded, mostly to myself. "The healer must have brought this to our ship after dark. It's just a trick."
"They are all tricks, master. None but the gods work miracles."
"I'm surprised the lid didn't fall off while the box was being loaded. Do you know how he kept it on?"
A new voice, low and haunting, said, "You hold the answer."
I turned, and saw the wax woman sitting up in her box.
"Would you like this back?" I asked. I was still frightened, but I showed her the lid. "I suppose it's yours."
"You need not bring it, Latro." She rose. "I will come and get it."
This she did, walking slowly and gracefully, not in the least troubled by the gentle motion of our vessel. Can I ever have been as frightened as I was by the leisurely approach of that beautiful woman? Each fluid step shouted that worse than death may befall a man.
"Look here." She turned over the lid to show its underside. "Don't you have handles like these on the back of your shield?"
I mastered my fear sufficiently to confess that I have no shield.
"Men who flee throw aside their shields and leave them on the battlefield," the wax woman said. "You did not flee when I came to take this."
"Neither did Uraeus," I told her.
"He would not, only slither into some crevice." She smiled. "Do you think him your friend?"
"He's my slave, but I hope he bears me no ill will."
"He is no one's friend, save his master's."
Uraeus surprised me, saying, "This is my master now, Sabra. His is the blood of Osiris."
"What? Your chill ichor warms to him?" The wax woman's laugh was low and soft. "May I sit by you, Latro? There's plenty of room."
I told her she might, rose while she sat, and resumed my seat when she had settled into place. "You are not wax," I said.
"Thank you, kind Latro."
"Your breasts moved as you sat. Wax would not do that."
"My mouth moves when I speak to you. Would wax do that?"
I did not know what to say.
"We've met before, you and I, though you have forgotten me. I came to your inn to guide you and your little singing girl to my master's house."
I said, "That must be why I'm not afraid of you," although I was terribly afraid of her.
Uraeus whispered, "Did your master come here to animate you, Sabra? Can he walk unseen?"
"Oh, sometimes." The wax woman smiled. "No, Serpent of Sesostris, he did not. He would be angry to learn that I walk and speak here."
Uraeus's eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, and it seemed to me his neck grew longer, as a turtle's does. "Who has animated you?"
The wax woman ignored his question. "You do not have your sword tonight, Latro."
"It isn't night," I told her, "and I gave my sword to Myt-ser'eu while I wrestled."
"I pray Great Ra excuse me, though he is no friend of mine. I am accustomed to the night. Possibly you fear that I have some weapon concealed on my person?"
"You may keep it if you do," I told her.
"Thank you. In the same spirit of friendship, you may search me for a dagger." Her hand found mine; it was warm, smooth, and soft. "Wouldn't you like to look under my skirt?"
"No," I said. "By your own account, you belong to Sahuset. He has done me much good."
"He risked your life to make himself great. Shall I tell you?"
"If you wish."
Uraeus whispered, "You speak of what you cannot know."
"Oh, but I do! He told me. Everyone must have someone to boast to." The wax woman's voice was low, dull, and throbbing, but strangely distinct. "Your master boasts to his singing girl, I'm sure. Sahuset boasts to me, and I to your new master. To whom do you boast, Serpent of Sesostris?"
Uraeus only hissed in reply.
"I do not fear you. Latro will not harm me, and you cannot poison me." The smooth little hand squeezed mine. "He drugged you, Latro. Write that in your scroll when you come to write. The drug often brings death. When it does not, it brings him who takes it near unto death. The breath slows and weakens. Would you feel my breath?"
"Do you breathe?" I asked.
"I must, to speak. Kiss me, and you will feel it."
I shook my head.
"I will tell you more. Then you will send your slave away, giving him no tales to bear to-whom? Your singing girl? She would thank me for saving her so much night labor."
That was untrue, and I knew it.
"You and she sat beneath a tree on the green hillside before a temple. My master came to you with wooden cups and a skin of wine. He gave you cups and filled them. The drug was smeared on the bottom of your cup alone."
I sat in silence, considering what she had said.
"You do not credit me."
I shook myself. "I don't know what to believe. I have to think."
"You are still young, and the strongest man on this ship, yet you lay down to sleep. And died? No sword, no arrow, no fever, not even a cobra's bite. If you will not accept my explanation, how do you explain it?"
"I don't," I said. "Even the gods are not required to explain everything. What is it you want?"
"Your love, to begin."
"It isn't mine to give." I tried to soften my words. "Love can't be handed over like a stone. I owe you friendship, and I'll try to be your friend because you've been mine."
"If you are my friend, will you get me what I want? And need? What I must have?"
Frightened again, I only shrugged.
"Myt-ser'eu's blood. Or Neht-nefret's. It doesn't matter which. But quite a lot of it, not just a few drops."
Uraeus hissed softly. I suppose it was meant as a warning to me, although I did not require it.
"No." I struggled to sound firm. "I won't get anyone's blood for you unless you'll take the blood of beasts."
"Latro, I cannot." Tears trickled from both eyes, streaking her cheeks. "I must have the blood of such women as they. Reconsider, please."
"You spoke of love," I told her. "I love Myt-ser'eu. Neht-nefret is her friend, and my friend Muslak loves her."
"He does not."
"So you say." I shuddered. "No! I won't do it."
"I know all Sahuset's secrets. I can make you great among the xu, and will if only you will get me the blood I need. Myt-ser'eu cannot do that."
I laughed to hide my fear. "My greatness is to begin with betrayal? Will they set up a statue in the forum for that? Well, I suppose they might."
"You'll do it?" She squeezed my hand.
I shook my head. "If betrayal is the price of greatness among the xu, it's too high."
"Then give me back my roof."
I picked up the lid and handed it to her.
"I am a good friend, Latro, but a terrible foe. In days to come you shall learn the truth of that."