Soldier of Sidon (6 page)

Thotmaktef had seated himself beside him and spread a scroll like this upon his knee, ready to write as his master directed.

"A woman has gone into the village," I told them.

"A village woman?" Qanju asked.

Recalling the way her jewels had gleamed in the moonlight, I said, "No."

"Not your woman--she would not leave you."

"Myt-ser'eu?" I knew she was mine, but I wanted time to think. "She's asleep in the stern."

"Not the captain's woman. We left her behind us, didn't we, Thotmaktef?"

Thotmaktef nodded. "We did, Most Noble Qanju."

"Another woman?"

"Yes," I said.

"You have forgotten her name."

It was not a question, but I said, "No doubt I have."

"Indeed." Qanju sat up, surprising me. "Tell me everything, Lucius."

I did, speaking worse than I write and using too many words.

"This is an important matter," Qanju said when I had finished. "Will you remember everything in the morning?"

"Perhaps I will." Although I know I forget, I cannot be sure how soon I forget, or how much.

"I did not intend to pain you. You appear sober enough to write. Are you?"

"Certainly," I said.

"Good. You speak our tongue badly, making it difficult to judge. Thotmaktef?"

"Yes," Thotmaktef said.

"You are to come with me, Lucius. There are two fine lamps in my tent. You are to write of this incident in your scroll before you forget it. Include every detail. When you have finished, you may return here, if you choose."

I protested, saying that Muslak would be very angry when he learned that his ship had been left unprotected. This I knew to be true.

"It will not be unprotected," Qanju explained. "Thotmaktef will take your place until you return. He is young, strong, and honest. I would trust him with my life."

I offered to lend him my sword, but he declined with thanks.

That is all, and now I will return to the ship and Myt-ser'eu.

No, one thing more. When Qanju and I had traveled
some distance up the path from the river, I looked behind me to see whether Thotmaktef had uncovered Myt-ser'eu. He had not, but he was untying the rope with which I had fastened the cover over the hatch.

A BREEZE AND
a lovely woman must be pleasant at all times--or so it seems to me. Sahuset, the wise man of Kemet, has been speaking with Myt-ser'eu and me beneath these fragrant trees. There is nothing my eyes can see here that is not beautiful, save my own feet. Sometimes Myt-ser'eu speaks. Sometimes she is silent. That is the best way for a woman.

For anyone.

At times we kiss and laugh. Work is good, I think. No doubt hard fighting is good sometimes as well. But there are times when the best thing is to sit as we do, in a place of beauty, watching the sails upon the blue waters of the Great River. Before Sahuset came, we washed in the canal.

Myt-ser'eu says I speak her tongue well. I do not think so, yet she insists. I want to learn it, but know (because she tells me) that I forget each morning. Yet she insists that I speak much better than I did when we met.

She chose me, she says, in the temple of Hathor in her city. She says also that it is already written in this scroll;
thus I need not write it again. That temple is very far from here.

The temple behind us is that of Sesostris, a different god. He was a king long ago, but has become a god of a thousand years. (The priest told us this.) He built a mountain of white stone here, very beautiful, and his priests have built the other things, the wall, the temple, and many other buildings--a little city, Myt-ser'eu says, and I agree. I would call them of no use; the people of this land do not, and the labor was theirs, not mine.

MYT-SER'EU TELLS ME
I must write of the counsel we gave Qanju this morning. She says it because she wishes to know what we said, I know, and will tease me until I have read all that I write to her. Very well.

The sailors had complained to Muslak, and Muslak to Qanju, who summoned Azibaal, Sahuset, Thotmaktef, and me. He made me read from this, all that I had written when I remembered the woman herself. Now I recall only the things I read to the others.

Azibaal told us what the sailors had seen this morning, then what they had seen earlier, because I had mentioned it in my account. The sailors wish to turn back, Azibaal said, and to leave Qanju, Thotmaktef, and Sahuset here. I think they would like to leave my men, the women, and me behind as well; but they know Muslak would not consent to it. Soon they will want to leave Muslak, too--no one said that, but I think it.

"Let us do the other thing," I told Qanju. "There must be many good sailors among the men of Kemet. My men and I will drive these ashore, and you can hire others."

Muslak said, "You'll have to put me ashore too."

"Then I will not do it," I promised him.

"Nor will I," Qanju murmured. "These men have a legitimate complaint. It is our duty to resolve it. You have searched the ship for the woman?"

I nodded.

Muslak said, "So have I--I went with him."

"Without finding her. What of the cat?"

"It's larger than other cats," I said. "I've seen it. I believe I'm the only one here who has."

Thotmaktef said, "We breed cats much larger than any of you foreigners have, and use them to hunt small game." He looked to Sahuset for agreement, but Sahuset did not speak.

Muslak added, "Besides, you've forgotten it, Lewqys. You're just telling us what you wrote down."

"No," I said. "I remember the cat." I held my hands apart to show its size.

"Do you?" Qanju whispered.

Muslak grinned and slapped my back. "You're getting better!"

Sahuset smiled too.

"What of my question, Lucius? What traces of the cat did you find?"

"None," I said.

"The urine of cats has a strong odor. ..."

"I know," I said. "I did not smell it."

"Neither did I," Muslak declared, "and I would have."

"In that case, the cat is not on the ship, though I feel sure the woman must be."

Thotmaktef looked puzzled. "How can you know that, Most Holy Qanju?"

Qanju spoke to me. "You remember the cat, you said. A large cat with green eyes."

I nodded. "Very large."

"Do you also remember the woman, Lucius?"

I held up my scroll. "Only what I have here. But I
remember also that it was you who insisted I write, for which I thank you."

"In which case we may assume that the woman is here."

Qanju turned to speak to Thotmaktef. "The cat vanished while Lucius was looking at it. He says it could not have jumped into the water, and I agree. Cats walk very quietly, but they cannot leap into water quietly. Since this cat was at the back of our vessel, some distance from the riverbank, it could not have sprung to the bank unseen. Having no other explanation, Lucius assumed that it must have gone into the hold. We know it wasn't there."

Slowly, Thotmaktef nodded.

"In which case ..." Qanju sighed. "Let us call it a ghost. That will make things simpler. The woman is not a ghost, however. Lucius touched her shoulder. Wishing to go to the village--or to our tents, which were near it--she walked up the path, even as we."

"I am blessed," Thotmaktef said, "to hear such wisdom."

"I will bless you further. Lucius forgets the places he has visited and the people he has seen in them. He even forgets Myt-ser'eu. In short, he forgets all the occurrences of common life. He does not forget the cat. Therefore, it does not belong to common life."

Thotmaktef murmured, "Myt-ser'eu," and wrote something on the deck with his finger.

"Interesting," Qanju murmured.

Sahuset nodded, I noticed, although his head scarcely moved. Thotmaktef was seated at Qanju's right, Sahuset at Thotmaktef's right. Sahuset, at least, had read what Thotmaktef wrote.

Muslak turned to Azibaal. "Which one scares them most?"

Azibaal spat. "They both do."

"You're saying that the woman's still in the village,"
Muslak told Qanju, "but the men say they saw her come back to my ship."

"I am saying nothing of the kind, Captain. I am saying that she is here on your ship and might be found."

"I searched it. So did Lewqys."

Qanju sighed. "You did not know where to look. I do, and may tell you later. If the woman were not accompanied by the cat, your men would not fear her."

Muslak and Azibaal nodded.

"They would offer her money, and if she would not take it, they would take her by force. Thus we need not rid ourselves of her, only of the cat."

I said, "I would protect her."

Azibaal frowned at me. "If she were gone, her cat would be gone too. That's what I think."

"Perhaps, but I doubt it." Qanju turned his head. "You seem eager to speak, Thotmaktef."

"As the Most Noble One wishes. We will soon be in sight of a great temple, the Mortuary Temple of Sesostris."

"A suitable venue?"

"I believe so, Most Noble Qanju."

Qanju smiled. "And what does Sahuset say?"

The wise man of Kemet shrugged.

"The cat must cease manifesting itself on this ship--or so the matter appears to me. Who among you disagrees?"

No one spoke.

"My scribe has suggested a means that may prove effectual. Has anyone some other means to suggest? Learned Sahuset?"

Sahuset shook his head.

"Then let us follow my scribe's suggestion."

That was everything of importance. We tied up in the canal that feeds the sacred lakes. Qanju and Muslak went to the temple and talked with the priests, then with
the chief priest. When they returned they said we must wait.

Myt-ser'eu points to words, presses herself close, and tickles me, asking what those words mean. Sahuset frightened her, I think. She would endear herself to me more than ever; that is plain. Women are ever affectionate where there is danger, and there would be less danger if it were not so.

SAHUSET CAME WHEN
we had been lolling here for some time. He brought cups and a skin of wine, which we shared with him. I do not like unmixed wine, but I drank a cup of it, slowly, so as not to offend him. Myt-ser'eu feared his wine was drugged (as she has told me since) and only feigned to sip until he had drained his own cup.

"I am the outcast of our ship," Sahuset said. "You need not agree. I know it, and know you both know it. That is enough."

"Everyone respects you," I told him.

He shook his head. "Everyone fears me, except you, Latro. When a man is respected, no one wants to plant a dagger in his back. When he is feared, everyone thinks upon it, and tests the point."

Myt-ser'eu turned down her empty cup and spoke boldly. "I fear you because I remember all that happened when we went to your house. Latro has forgotten those things or he would fear you too."

"In that case, I am glad he has forgotten. I want his friendship, not his fear. I want yours, too, Myt-ser'eu."

"Go to the priests of Hathor. They will find you another. I'm engaged."

Sahuset laughed. "So you are, Myt-ser'eu. Some other time, perhaps. Latro, your little cat is most appealing."

Although there had been an unsettling note in his laugh, I smiled and agreed.

"That is what her name means. Did you know? A cat that is not yet grown."

I shook my head. "I know she wears a cat on her headband."

"Not the cat you saw."

"No," I said. "Certainly not."

"What will you do if these priests tell the Man of Parsa that Myt-ser'eu must be killed to rid our ship of the phantom cat?"

Myt-ser'eu sat up straight. "You didn't tell me about this!"

"It has nothing to do with you," I said, "and I didn't want to frighten you."

"Will they really want to kill me?"

"It doesn't matter. I won't permit it. We'll leave the ship."

Sahuset nodded. "Good. Will your men obey if you tell them not to strike?"

"They will."

"There are three of Parsa and five of my own nation. Our five may side with you. It would please me but not surprise me. The three will surely obey Qanju."

"They will obey me," I insisted.

"I hope we won't get to find out. The priests may say no such thing, though priests are often malicious and meddling. Cats are sacred animals, after all. Did I shock you, Myt-ser'eu?"

If she had been frightened, and I think she had been frightened badly, she had recovered. "They are grasping,
too, Sahuset. Grasping and devious. You forgot to mention that."

"So I did, but only because it did not seem to apply. I was a priest myself for some years, and thus I am in a position to know."

"Have they cast you out?" Myt-ser'eu's hand tightened on mine.

"I cast myself out. I wanted knowledge. They wanted gold, as you say, and power. More land. More and more land. Yet I still have friends among the priests at my old temple. Do you believe that, Latro?"

"Certainly," I said, "it seems very probable. I feel that I have friends far away too, and though I do not remember them, I would like to find them."

"I may be able to help with it. I mean to take you to my old temple when we reach it and prove the truth of my assertion. Meanwhile, I wanted to warn you, as I have, and remind you I'm a friend--hers as well as yours."

We thanked him.

"Qanju did not know the meaning of Myt-ser'eu's name until his scribe traced it on the deck for him at our meeting. So it seemed, at least. He does now, and we may be sure he will tell the priests here that a woman of that name is on board."

"You called yourself an outcast," I said, "though you say the priests at your temple did not cast you out."

"So I am. I am of Kemet, but a southerner. I was born--it doesn't matter. Here in the north, my own people consider me foreign. We of Kemet have little tolerance for foreigners, the Nine Bows who have brought us only war and rapine, century after century."

I said that I would try to bring none.

"Oh, particular individuals can be well-intentioned, and even useful. But as a class ..." Sahuset raised his shoulders and let them fall. "Now we are occupied by a
foreign power. The satrap governs us mercifully and with justice--governs us better than most of our own pharaohs did, in my judgment, but he is resented just the same, and his countrymen are resented still more."

"And I with them. That's what you're saying."

"Among other things, yes. As for me, the satrap finds me useful, and rewards me for my services. I am a wise man of Kemet." Sahuset laughed again. "We're not the only ones who find foreigners useful at times, you see. As for me, I take his gold. I'm hated for that by men who would grovel for it, were it offered to them."

Myt-ser'eu surprised me then by saying, "I'm as much an outcast as you are. No, as much as you and Latro together."

"'Marry a maid from your own village.'" Sahuset smiled. "Isn't that how the poem goes? 'Have nothing to do with the strange woman.' That's in it someplace too."

"I'm sure it is." Myt-ser'eu turned to me. "I might as well tell you--I don't think I ever have. Once a woman leaves her neighborhood in Sais, she is marked. It doesn't matter if she comes back later and lives there again. She's still marked. I was driven out." Her eyes filled with tears. "By my mother, my sister, and my brothers. That doesn't matter either. I'm still marked. There are men who'll marry a strange woman, but not many."

I hugged her, and Sahuset refilled her cup.

"What she says is true of villages and every city in this land," he told me. "What I've said is true as well. On our ship I'm the greater outcast. Surely you've seen that."

I said, "I noticed that you never spoke during the meeting. The rest of us did, and even Azibaal talked a lot. But you did not."

"Correct. I would have told them the truth if they had asked for it. Yet I knew how the truth would be received, and thought it better not to voice it unless I was asked to."

"Then speak this truth to me," I said, "I ask for it now."

"Very well. But first--our ship is in my country, but neither its captain nor its crew are of my country. It is commanded by a Man of Parsa. A good man, and a wise one by his lights, but a foreigner. The only countryman of mine who has any authority at all has sided with the People from Parsa much more firmly than I have. He governs me for them, or tries. As for the rest--five foot soldiers and two women. Half the men on board would take Myt-ser'eu or the other woman by force, and throw her to the crocodiles afterward. They know that, and if you don't you should."

"I do," I said. "What about the truth you were too wise to voice in our meeting?"

"As you wish. First, that the woman who cannot be found is at least as uncanny as the cat they fear. Second, that the cat is not hers, since it did not accompany her to the village. Third, that neither has done the least harm, but trying to rid the ship of them is likely to do a great deal."

I said that the same thought had occurred to me.

"Then tell them. They will certainly take it better from you than they would from me. I earn a modest living, Latro, chiefly by telling fortunes and driving out xu who have possessed a particular house--less commonly, a particular person. When someone comes to me wanting a xu driven out, I ask what harm the xu has done. Most often the answer is none; when it is, I tell my client frankly that it would be prudent to leave well enough alone. When a xu occupies a place--or a person, for that matter--others rarely try to occupy it as well. No one tries to move into a house that is already inhabited."

"I understand," I said. "Do they take your advice?"

Sahuset lifted his shoulders and let them fall as before. "Do I appear well fed?"

"No," I said.

He laughed. "Remind me never to debate you. But you're wrong. I'm not starving, and I would starve if they did. I expel the harmless spirit for a modest fee--and charge a great deal more for the worse one who finds the first's house empty."

"Could you drive out the cat?"

"Perhaps." Sahuset turned away to gaze out over the river.

"Would you? If Qanju ordered it?"

He shook his head.

"Why not?"

"You are a soldier. Would you accept an order from someone who knew far less of the military art than you do?"

Now it was my turn to watch the sails and the wheeling river-birds. "It would depend on what it was," I said at last.

"Just so." Sahuset held out his wine skin. "More? You, Myt-ser'eu?"

She accepted a second cup; when he had filled it, he poured another for himself. "I have offered my wine and my friendship. You are both afraid I'll ask some service for them. I will not, but will gladly do one for you if you ask. Do you? Either of you?"

Myt-ser'eu said, "Would you want money if I asked you to tell my fortune?"

Sahuset shook his head.

"Then please, would you?"

"Certainly." From the pouch at his belt he took four gold sticks, none of which were quite straight. "I should have my wand for this," he said--and it was there, a rod of carved ivory, though I had not noticed it before. He laid the gold sticks on the grass, each a corner of a rough square, then traced a circle about them with his wand.
Closing his eyes, he looked toward the sky. For a time so long that I grew sleepy his lips moved, though I could not hear what they said.

At last he picked up the sticks, shook them in his hands, and flung them toward Myt-ser'eu. They landed in the circle, as well as I could judge, and he bent above them. "Much sorrow soon," he said, "but joy not long after it."

"That's good," she said.

He nodded absently. "You will travel to strange lands, and will be in danger there. You will return to your native place--and leave it again. Hathor favors you. That's all I can read here."

"That's what I've always wanted," Myt-ser'eu said, "to get away from my family and see strange places and meet new people like Latro. Hathor must be very kind."

"She is. Latro?"

I shook my head.

"Please?" Myt-ser'eu's hand tried to squeeze my thigh. "For me? Just this once?"

I shook my head again. "I'm a soldier, as he said. I'll die on some battlefield, and knowing that I know as much as he can find out."

"But you might not, and we're together, so if we learn about you we'll learn more about me."

I shrugged.

Taking it for consent, Sahuset scooped up his gold sticks and flung them at me. For an instant it seemed they had struck my face; they had not, and fell in the circle as before. One lay upon another there.

Sahuset leaned over them. I heard his indrawn breath, but he did not speak. He rose, walked toward the temple wall, then returned to us and studied his gold sticks again from a different angle.

"What is it?" Myt-ser'eu asked.

"You are frightened," he said. "So am I." He picked up
his sticks slowly, one by one, tossed them straight up into the air, and studied them as before.

"Tell us!"

"Latro? This is ill news, I'm afraid. If you demand it, I'll tell you. I advise you not to."

"I would rather hear bad news," I said, "than know myself a coward."

"Very well. Death is near you. Very near. Myt-ser'eu and I may save you, but we may not. We will try, of course. Certainly I will. Will you, Myt-ser'eu?"

She nodded, and I felt her hand tremble. I said, "How near is it?"

Sahuset bit his lip. "Before sunrise tomorrow. You may be confident of that. If you see the sun rise, you are out of danger. Beyond the proximity of your peril, there is no certainty. Be careful this evening. Be very careful tonight, and recall always that death may be kinder than Hathor. That is all I can tell you."

He left. I opened the leather case that holds this scroll, and Myt-ser'eu fetched water from the canal for me. She said that fortunes told are sometimes wrong, which I know is true. I said that it would be hard to think of a place where danger threatened less than here, which is true too. We made jokes and kissed, and soon her tears dried.