I asked how the woman had gotten in.
Neht-nefret shrugged. "You tell me."
Qanju smiled. "Thotmaktef?"
"I have a theory," Thotmaktef said, "and the Noble Qanju agrees. This woman-others have seen her, if it is the same woman-is often accompanied by a large black cat." He hesitated. "Have you ever seen a leopard, Latro?"
"I don't know. I may have. Certainly I saw the skin of one this morning."
"Yes, I suppose you must have, at the temple of Ap-uat. The chief priest of every temple in our nation wears a leopard skin as his badge of office. Since you've seen that skin and remember it now, you should have some idea of the size of a living leopard. They're far bigger than any ordinary cat, but smaller than a lion."
I nodded.
"This cat is about the same size, but it's black instead of spotted. It could have climbed the outside of the inn. It's mud brick, and I've often seen cats climb mud brick. Inside, it could lift the bar with its teeth."
Neht-nefret looked as skeptical as I felt.
"It could have been trained to do that," Thotmaktef insisted. "We train animals to do things that are far more difficult."
"A baboon would be better," Neht-nefret said. "It would be easier to train, and they have hands."
I agreed and added, "From what Neht-nefret has said, this woman ran when she saw the man she was with-"
"Muslak."
"Was waking up. That would not have been necessary if the cat were her guard."
Neht-nefret said, "Muslak's sword was beside our bed."
"Did you see this cat?" I asked her.
She shook her head.
Thotmaktef said, "A man with a sword might have killed the cat in the wink of an eye. She would not want to lose it. Besides, she may have sent the cat into the corridor to make sure she wasn't interrupted."
I asked whether he and Qanju were certain the woman was on our ship.
Qanju said, "It would appear that she has been with us since we set out, though she is seen only at night."
I suggested that the ship be searched for her. Thotmaktef said that it has been. A moment ago, I asked Uraeus whether I was among the searchers. He says I was not among them this time.
Now I am sitting in the shade to write. We just passed three laden lumber ships; Muslak says they are carrying wood from Triquetra to Wast. May not this woman have her own ship? A ship or boat in which she follows ours? What Uraeus tells me cannot be true. I HAVE READ what I have written. Here I add that Muslak and I will take care to stay at the same inn tonight. We have agreed on that, and that I am to remain awake and watch.
The scarab is to guide me, but it has no wings now. No doubt they have broken off.
17
THE CAT THAT accompanies the woman is terrifying. It would be easy, now, to pretend that I was not afraid of it; but what is the use of lying here? If I cannot believe what I myself write, why write? Besides, fear is a thing that accompanies the thing feared. To look into the eyes of the panther is to know fear, for any man who ever walked.
We are in Wast the Thousand-Gated. I told Myt-ser'eu that there cannot be a thousand gates in the city wall. Such a wall would be nothing but gates. Neht-nefret said there was no wall-that the courage of its soldiers was all the defense Kemet had ever required. Muslak says no one can resist the Great King, and a wall would not have saved Kemet from his armies.
Later I asked a Hellene we met in the market, because I overheard him call this city thousand-gated. He said the thousand gates are the gates of its temples, and the gates within them. It may be there are a thousand such gates, or very near that number. Certainly there are many temples here, and Muslak says that all the temples of Kemet have many gated enclosures.
It was already late when we went ashore. We arranged for rooms side by side at the top of this inn and ate a sober supper. Muslak said he would try to sleep, that he must sleep to do his duty as captain, but that he would sleep with his sword at his side, ready to spring up at the least sound. Neht-nefret said she could not sleep; Myt-ser'eu that she would do certain things to keep me awake, and sleep between times. She was less serious than we and tried to cheer us with jokes and smiles. "I'm under a curse," she said. "I must have five bowls of beer and sleep until the sun is high, or lose my beauty." She wants a new wig, and wants me to buy it for her here.
We made love, and I took up my post. I kept the door open by the width of my finger so that I might hear. The corridor was too dark for me to see. Her soft breathing soon told me Myt-ser'eu slept. The innkeeper came with a lamp, showing a new guest to his room and making him comfortable. He left, and I heard the wooden bar drop into its iron fittings. After what seemed to me a long time-I cannot say how long it really was-the light under the door went out. After that, there was a drunken quarrel in the room below, where three or four men, I think strangers to one another, shared a single room. It ceased in time; I found myself more than half asleep upon my stool and had to wake and walk around the room, draw my sword, practice some cuts, and sheath it again, until I no longer yawned.
A gong sounded in the corridor-a small gong, like the striking of a metal cup. It sounded only once, and was not repeated.
It filled me with awe-and fear.
I felt myself in the grip of an evil dream, although I knew I was not sleeping. I stood, drew Falcata again, and picked up the stool. There was no sound at all, none, yet I knew the corridor was not empty. Something waited for me outside.
Opening the door with my foot, I went out. It may be I once did a harder thing-I know I forget, and my friends confirm it. But I cannot believe I have. If opening that door had been any harder, I could not have done it.
The corridor was as black as the soil of this Kemet. At the end, where the stairs began, the gong sounded again. Very soft it was, but I heard it. I went to the stair and down its steps, moving slowly and cautiously, for I could see nothing. A woman, Neht-nefret had said, with a necklace and other jewels. I saw no woman, nor could I imagine any reason for such a woman to ring a little gong. I was frightened. I do not like writing that, but it is the truth. What sort of man, I asked myself, is frightened of a woman? But I knew, I think, that it was not a woman. Even then, I must have known it. There was a sharp odor, half lost in the stench of the stair. I did not know what it was, but it was not such a sweet scent as women delight in.
The floor below was as silent as our own, and darker. I walked the length of its corridor, groping my way with the stool and the blade of my sword.
Twenty or thirty steps brought me to the end. I turned and saw yellow eyes between me and the stair. A voice that snarled warned me to come no nearer.
I did not obey, yet it seemed to me that I walked through water, that the night must end before I reached those glowing eyes.
The scuffle of sandals came and faded away, as someone light of foot mounted the stair. The eyes never moved.
When I had nearly reached them, it snarled. I saw its teeth, fangs like knives that gleamed in the faint light and seemed almost to shine. It was a beast, yet it had spoken like a man, ordering me to come no nearer. I halted, saying, "Beasts can't speak." I did not intend those words, which were forced from me by the eyes and shining teeth.
"Men cannot understand," the panther said.
I had stopped walking. I know that now, but I was not conscious of it then.
"Who are you?"
"You will come to our temple in the south," the panther said, "then you will know me."
Light came to the corridor. Perhaps someone in one of the rooms behind me had lit a lamp or fed a fire so that the light crept from under his door. Perhaps it was only that the moon had risen. I do not know. However the light came, I could see the entire beast then, a great black cat as big as the biggest man.