Lauren Haney - Path of Shadows

“Did he offer to take you with him on one of his expedi tions?”

“Not in so many words, but when I told him I dreamed of seeing the stones in their natural state, of picking and choos ing myself rather than depending upon someone else’s judg ment as to which is the best and most beautiful, he said he thought we’d make a good team. Between his understanding of this desert and my knowledge of fine jewelry and stones, we’d surely find things overlooked by other men.”

Noting that Ani’s breathing had slowed and his color had almost returned to normal, Bak signaled that they move on.

“Did he show you any stones other than the turquoise and the crystal?”

“Carnelian, jasper, milky quartz. Attractive pieces, but of less value.”

“According to his father, he left Kemet to explore this desert about nine months ago, returned in three months, and went off two months later never to return. Why didn’t you travel with him on one of those journeys?”

“I was afraid.” Ani gave Bak a sheepish look. “Yes, afraid. A thing I’m not proud of, but true.” He looked down at himself.

“Look at me. Do I have the appearance of a man accustomed to hardships? Do I have the demeanor of a brave and hardy soul?”

Bak grinned. He liked a man with no illusions about him self. “What finally brought you here?”

“Desire overcame fear.”

After Wensu’s blustering, Ani’s modest admissions were refreshing. “You must’ve been disappointed when you heard that Minnakht never returned from his latest expedition.”

“I can’t tell you how disturbed I was.” Ani looked up the wadi toward the caravan. “We can walk a bit faster if you like. I feel better now.” As if he had not interrupted the thought, he went on, “I’d spent months convincing myself I could do this, and convincing my overseer that I should.

What did I find when I reached Kaine? The man who’d urged me to come had vanished!”

“You must’ve heard the rumor that he’d found gold.”

“I’m not a man who believes all I hear, Lieutenant, but when I heard that tale, my blood ran cold.”

“You feared his life was at risk?”

“I toil in a workshop well-supplied with precious metals and stones. Even I am not immune to their value. I know from experience how quickly men’s hearts can become in flamed by dreams of wealth.”

Bak understood. True or not, the rumor had put Min nakht’s life in jeopardy. “Did you and Wensu approach User together, or did you individually propose to travel with him?”

“We were in a house of pleasure, each of us alone, trying to decide what to do. We overheard a man speak of User, calling him witless for entering the desert after Minnakht had so recently failed to return. Foolhardy they called him, to travel alone with a single nomad to keep him company-as

Minnakht had. Wensu asked where User could be found, and

I inquired as to his appearance. We realized we were both af ter the same thing: a reliable man to take us into the desert.”

Bak recalled Senna saying that User was not entirely to be trusted. “Did you inquire about his reputation?”

“Several men-merchants, drovers, men selling don keys-vouched for his integrity and his knowledge of the desert.” Ani looked at Bak, frowned. “Have you heard any thing to his discredit, Lieutenant?”

Bak shook his head. He saw no reason to worry the jew eler. User might be the untrustworthy man Senna thought him. Or Senna might be as unreliable as User believed. Then again, both could be right-or wrong. As for Ani himself, he was a child in this harsh land, one whose every footstep would be torturous to him. Bak was willing to wager a jar of the finest northern wine that this man was as innocent in thought and deed as he appeared.

“I’ll say to you what I said to Wensu. If you wish to abandon this adventure of yours and return to Kemet, it’s not too late to do so. Kaine is two days’ trek away. You can go on with us to the well, stay through the night, and turn back tomorrow.”

“No, no, no.” Ani’s face held the same stubborn look

Wensu’s had. “I’m here, Lieutenant, and here I stay.”

The caravan had come to a halt by the time Bak and Ani caught up. Leaving the craftsman with User’s party, Bak hur ried forward, seeking a reason. Not a speck of shade was to be seen anywhere. The heat of the sun, confined within the tall, steep hillsides, was merciless. This was not a place to rest.

He found, near the head of his string of donkeys, Minmose holding the halter of a stocky black animal while Rona probed a front hoof with a pair of bronze tweezers. Psuro looked on.

“She’s gone lame, sir,” the sergeant explained.

“Ah, here it is.” Rona screwed up his mouth in concentra 70

Lauren Haney tion while he manipulated the tweezers. The donkey twitched, tried to pull away. The Medjay clamped the tweez ers tight and pulled out a small stone. As he released the hoof, Minmose let go of the halter. The animal shook its head and blew, expressing its contempt for such treatment.

They’d no sooner started forward than Nebre and Kaha made their careful way down a steep cut in the rocky slope to the right and walked toward them. Perspiration poured from the men; their tunics were stained with sweat and dust. Each man carried on his shoulder a bow and quiver filled with ar rows. Kaha carried a goatskin waterbag.

“You’ve been gone a long time,” Bak said, greeting them with a smile.

“This land is endless.” Nebre pulled bow and quiver from his shoulder and handed it to Minmose. “There’s much to see. All different but alike.”

“This is truly a barren land,” Kaha said. “How the nomads find sustenance for themselves and their flocks, I’ll never know.”

“Did you see any sign of the people who were camped near the well last night?” Bak asked.

“No, sir.” Nebre slipped his tunic over his head and shook the dust from it. “They’ve disappeared without a trace. I’ve a feeling they left the wadi long ago, probably not far from the well where we spent the night.”

Sneezing, Kaha backed away from the cloud Nebre had created. “Twice we saw a man on a distant hillside. Like us, he carried a bow and quiver. He was watching this caravan.”

“At first we thought him to be a nomad shepherd, moving his flocks and family through this area. Or a man hunting ibex or gazelle.” Nebre slipped his arms through the sleeves of his tunic and pulled it down over his head. “The second time we saw him, we went to the place where last he’d been.”

“We found the print of a sandal, sir,” Kaha said. “It matched the one I saw on the hillside north of Kaine.”

The sun beat down with the ferocity of a wounded lion. Short gusts of wind failed to lift the coarse granules of sand on the wadi floor, but carried a fine dust unseen at close hand. The land around them shimmered in the heat, while the distant ridges faded into a dirty yellowish haze. Bak and the others drank frequently, consuming the tepid water from their wa terbags, quenching a never-ending thirst. Sweat poured from their bodies, staining tunics and kilts.

The donkeys plodded forward, hooves now and again striking a stone, tails swishing away the flies. Bak walked for a while with Psuro, telling the sergeant what he had learned from the men with whom he had talked. He spoke softly, pre ferring that Senna not hear what he had to say.

“I’m certain Senna didn’t slay the man at the well. We’d not yet arrived when he lost his life.” Bak wiped the sweat from his face with the tail of his tunic. “But until we’re certain we can trust him, I’d rather we keep our suspicions to our selves.”

“You’ve not told him we’re policemen, I’ve noticed. Nor have you told anyone else.”