"Are you Myron son of Perseus?"
"Yes. And you, sir?"
"Gergis by name. Your slave brings a message from Embas."
"Embas? Oh, yes, that priest of Mithra in Babylon, who saved us from nocturnal attack."
"That is right. As soon as you can withdraw your comrade from his throng of worshipful subjects, I fain would speak with him."
That, however, was easier said than done. Half the Banu Khalaf, it seemed, had quarrels or claims which they had been saving up for months and which they wanted Bessas to judge. He put them off, saying:
"Dear friends, give me until the morrow! I shall have to think deeply ere I can judge such weighty matters, and I am weary."
He turned to Myron, who presented the Persian. Bessas and Gergis exchanged a quick, secret sign, and Bessas said:
"How knew you that we should return by this route?"
"Your slave knew not. Embas sent out three messengers. One awaits you at Buhen and another at Swenet. We thought that surely such a net would catch you in your flight; and behold it has done so!"
"And your message?"
"I bring you a warning of traps laid for you along the path of your return. But—was there not a man named Kothar bar-Malko, who attached himself to you?"
"Aye, there was. We learnt that he had been suborned by the priest Belkishir, in Babylon, to get us murdered. He has joined the majority."
"No loss. Since you know of that plot, I will go on to the other. Know you of the plans of the House of Daduchus for your future?"
"Was it not they who set Labashi's cutthroats upon us in Babylon and the Banu Tarafa upon us at Marath?"
"Aye."
"Are they still at this game?"
"They are. They have hired more gangs of desperate rogues, to lie in wait for you in the lands betwixt here and Persepolis."
"That is cheerful news, comrade. How shall we avoid these rascals?"
"We cannot tell you for certain where and who the assassins are, but we believe that they lurk in the smaller towns and cities along the way: places like Siout and Gaza and Tiphsah."
"Wherefore should they do that?"
"They reason that a traveler could too easily slip through their fingers in a great city like Opet or Babylon, whereas all travelers pass through small towns along the principal route and are easy to keep watch for."
Bessas stroked his beard, frowning. Then his weathered face broke into a broad grin. "They did not count upon my returning as an Arab shaykh. With our camels we can avoid the small towns, stopping only at cities when we must to buy supplies."
"You seem well-prepared to take care of yourself, and we have done what we can. Are your resources enough to take you to Persepolis?"
"Not only that, but I shall also call upon that banking fellow Murashu in Babylon and pay him back every daric. And how can I repay your kindness?"
"It is nothing; the treasury of the Mithraeum meets my expenses, and it is no more than the son of Phraates merits. But if you would care to make an offering on your way through Babylon, to carry on the holy work ..."
"It shall be done. Now let's wash the dust from our throats. Your slave can only offer the date wine of his new-found clan, but 'tis better than the slop I have been drinking for the past few months."
Bessas' wives served them in the shaykh's tent. Sitting cross-legged on the rugs and cushions that had belonged to Zayd, they drank and talked. Bessas and Myron told of their adventures, while Gergis recounted events at the Persian Court.
He told, for instance, about the great Athenian general Themistokles, architect of the defeat of the Persian fleet at Salamis. Themistokles, beset by political enemies out for his blood, had fled to the Persian Court and thrown himself on Xerxes' mercy. Some courtiers and royal relatives, whose kin had fallen in the ill-starred Greek campaign, wished the man slain. But Xerxes had deferred his decision until Themistokles should learn the Persian language and ways and thus make the best case for himself. So Themistokles now lived with the commander in chief Artabanus and studied Persian speech and manners with the same intensity that he had once applied to Athenian politics and military matters.
"Which," said Gergis, "one must admit is fair."
"Had Xerxes been as just in all matters, he had earned the title of 'great,' " growled Bessas.
"True. And now your slave must be on his way, to inform my comrades at Buhen and Swenet that I have conveyed our message. May the Sleepless One befriend you!"
"May the Lord of the Wide Pastures give you long life and wealth," said Bessas.
He and Myron helped the man to saddle up and mount, and Gergis cantered off across the desert to eastward.
"Well," said Bessas, "we must begin to prepare for departure. A dozen or so of my nomads would, methinks, make an adequate escort. Besides, it will give me a chance to know these knaves better. And speaking of money, step back with me into the shaykh's tent. Labid! Abras! Umayya!"
When Bessas had gathered the three Arabs who had accompanied him to the Locust Killer, he opened the treasure chest. He dug in both hands, scooped up a glittering mass, and dumped it on the carpet.
"This," he said, "is your share of the loot. Divide it equally amongst yourselves."
"How shall we do that, lord?" said Umayya. "It is hard to value such things."
"Let one man divide the stuff into three portions, and the others get first choice of the piles. Flip a coin to determine which of the two shall be first and which second."
As the three pressed kisses on Bessas' hands and garments, he said: "Aye, I know you love me, and I love you also. Now take your stuff and go." When the Arabs had gone, he began taking out pieces of gold. "Confirm my judgment, old man; but meseems this pile ought to pay off Astes' Nubians; this should suffice Master Murashu; this should make the Mithraeum happy; this should replace the camels the clan lost on this venture ..."
Then he scooped out the rest of the treasure in handfuls and dumped it in piles, saying:
"Remember our covenant for division of the treasure? It still holds. Kothar and Skhâ are dead; Shimri, being a god, needs no such lucre. Salimat, as Zayd's heir, gets five parts; I get three parts, and you two."
"What about the True Anthrax? It's the most valuable single piece, apart from any magical powers it may or may not possess."
"We'll count that as one of the ten parts, and I'll take it for myself." Bessas hung the great gem around his neck. "I am the one most likely to need its protection. Now, teacher, choose any two piles you like. I have not weighed the gold down to the last bean, nor yet taken the gems to a lapidary for evaluation. Life is too short for such finical arguments, now!"
"These will do nicely," said Myron, indicating the two piles nearest to him.
"You cheat yourself. Here, take some more!" Bessas dumped another jingling handful on Myron's piles. "No arguments, now!"
"What are you doing with the rest?"
"I shall leave it in charge of my wives. Salimat knows the tribe and is a clever wench withal, so I trust her to choose trustworthy guards."
"Aren't you taking the girls?"
"Nay. I seem to have gotten both with child and, for such, long camel rides were not good. Besides, methinks a sometime vacation from one's loved ones were not a bad thing." Bessas gave a low, rumbling laugh. "Know, O Myron, that my father—God welcome him—had three wives, of whom only my mother survives. These three quarreled all the time, so that my poor father was put to it to referee their strife. I swore that I would take but one wife, if any. Now I have these two. A fine span of fillies they are; they quarrel not but are dear friends and sisters in sentiment.
"Howsomever, that brings up another difficulty for the man of the house. When they wish to persuade me to some course of action, they can always wheedle it out of me by taking turns in working upon me, thus wearing me down as the drip of water wears away a stone. As I have told you, I can refuse nought to a woman I love, and when I love two I am as soft as millet mush. Belike when their babes are born, they'll have less time to plot such stratagems.