"Would you oppose me, mortal?" There was death and monstrous cruelty in the question.
"I don't want to," I said, and I have never uttered truer words. "But I must return to the floor above, and you are in my way. If I have to kill you to get there, I will."
"You will try, and you will die."
I said nothing.
It smiled as cats smile. "Aren't you curious about me? Beasts do not speak, you said. I speak. Indeed I might maintain that I am the only beast that does. I explain, and I am the soul of truth."
Someone-I have forgotten who it was-must have told me long ago that gods sometimes take the forms of beasts. Now I found I knew it.
"Would you fight a god?"
I said, "If I must, yes."
"You are a man of the name. I will kill you if it proves necessary, but I would sooner have your friendship. Know that I am a friend to many men, and will be a friend to Man always."
I suppose I nodded.
"Sometimes even to men like you. Listen. My master gave a pet to a worshipper. You know him. Evil men drove that pet away. It returned to my master, mewing numberless complaints. You have a kitten yourself. Conceive it."
I could only think that I was speaking to a god I was about to kill. I took one step, and another, and shook as if awakened from a dream of falling. The tread of sandaled feet sounded again, this time from above.
"I came to investigate," the panther said, "and to help the worshipper if help were needed. Many gods have sought to kill me, and have failed."
The sandaled feet were behind him.
"My master gives him a helpmeet for him." The panther's tail swung to and fro, like the tail of a cat that watches for prey. "Farewell."
At that moment I recalled the stool, which I had brought to use as a shield. I flung it at the panther, but he was no longer there.
The stool clattered on the empty steps. The sandaled feet were already far below. Their quick tread faded…And was gone.
When I returned to this room, Myt-ser'eu was still asleep, in a welter of blood. I cut strips from my headcloth to make a bandage. Neht-nefret heard her sobs and helped, rousing an inn servant, bringing clean rags, and kindling this lamp.
"I dreamed I had the most beautiful bracelet," Myt-ser'eu told us. "It was rubies, and circled my wrist like flame-a bracelet a queen might wear."
Neht-nefret asked, "Did you see who cut you?"
I do not believe Myt-ser'eu heard. Her big, dark eyes were full of dreams. "My sister Sabra asked me to give it to her," she said, "and I did. I gave it gladly."
Neht-nefret bent above her. "Do you have a sister? You never talk about her."
"Yes." Myt-ser'eu nodded as the dream left her. "She's older than I am. Her name's Maftet, and I hate her." After that, she wept as before. She is pale and very weak.
It is a clean wound, long, and deeper than I like. Soon I will tell Myt-ser'eu we must change her bandage; I want to look at her wound again by sunlight.
This is enough writing. I must get what sleep I can. Muslak slept the whole time. WE ARE BACK on the ship. I wanted to take Myt-ser'eu to the healer, but he was still on shore. I took her to Qanju instead, and he and Thotmaktef washed her wound and applied a healing ointment. "This will hold the edges closed," Qanju told her, "provided you do not finger it and do not try to lift any heavy thing. You have lost a great deal of blood."
She promised that she would not, and he made her leave us and lie down in the shade. "You must get the best water you can for her," he told me, "and mix it with wine. Five measures of water to each of wine."
I said that I had no wine.
"You have money, Lucius, and money will always buy wine. Go to the market as soon as it opens. You must get good wine, you understand. Buy from a reputable merchant."
"I'll go with you," Thotmaktef said, "if the Noble Qanju does not object."
"The water must be good, too," Qanju told us, "the purest obtainable."
Then he began to question me about the events of the night. I had read this scroll, and I told him about the chime I had heard, and the cat.
"That was the Dark God," Qanju said; he did not seem afraid. "We call him Angra Manyu. He has but that one name among us, but many others among other peoples. He is the thing that eats the stars."
I do not believe stars can be eaten, but I did not contradict Qanju.
"We call him Apep," Thotmaktef told me, "and Aaapef. Set, Sut, Sutekh, Setcheh, and many other names."
I asked whether it were not possible to appease this god.
"You would not wish to do so," Qanju said.
The healer returned with a monkey riding his shoulder. This monkey made faces at Myt-ser'eu and me, chattered, whispered to the healer, tried to peer up Myt-ser'eu's thin cotton shift, and did many other things that amused me.
I told the healer how Myt-ser'eu had been hurt, but he did not wish to examine her wound. "If the Noble Qanju has treated it, he will have done all I could do," the healer said. "I will make an amulet for her to keep this from happening again."
He took the little bag Myt-ser'eu wears about her neck; I saw that she was loath to part with it, although she did at my urging. It was given to her by a priest of Hathor.
"What of the Dark God," I said, "the god Noble Qanju calls Angra Manyu?"
"You sit in the sun all day," the healer told me, "in order to be comfortable. Is that not so?"
I said that I did not remember, but that it did not seem likely. Myt-ser'eu said we sit in the shade. The sun here is bright and strong, and even the sailors lounge in the shade when they have no work to do. My soldiers-the five from Kemet-make shades of their big shields.
"In that case," the healer told us, "you must not listen when men speak ill of the Dark God."
I asked whether this god ever appeared as a black cat of great size.
"Ah, you've seen his servant. He often takes that shape. I see him in that shape by night, here on the ship."
I explained that he had kept me from returning to Myt-ser'eu while she was being cut; the healer said it would not happen again, that the amulet he would give her would prevent it.
Myt-ser'eu said, "How was it possible for someone to cut me without waking me? I had drunk only a single bowl. I swear it."
"Her knife is very sharp," the healer said, "and she knows spells that bring deep sleep."
We wanted to know who this woman was. It was clear he knew her. He would not tell us, saying that the time was not ripe and ill fortune would follow if he revealed her name.
"If the panther is a god," I said, "how is it he serves this woman?"
"He is not and does not," the healer told us. "He serves the Dark God, and Sabra serves me."
18
THE HEALER'S PET wished us farewell as Thotmaktef, Uraeus, and I went to the market to buy wine for Myt-ser'eu. It used both front paws, and it seemed to me the omen was ill. If a man had those eyes, I would at once suppose him a bad one.
Qanju had told us to buy good wine, and to bring Myt-ser'eu only the cleanest and purest water. This is because of the wound she suffered while sleeping in an inn. Now I can recall neither the inn nor the panther, but I know I told Qanju about them. I have read this scroll, and all that I said is written here as well.
When we had left our ship, and indeed the quay and its storehouses, behind us, Thotmaktef assured me that Muslak would not put out without me, and that Qanju would not permit him to put out without us in any case.