Lauren Haney - Path of Shadows

“Initially, I didn’t want him to know until he’d proven himself reliable. Now, with our circumstances altered and a dead man left behind, I’m convinced the decision was a wise one. Ofttimes people grow defensive with the police. They’re more apt to speak openly to soldiers. We’ll enlighten no one, at least for the present.”

As the wadi walls grew higher where the ancient water way had sliced a path through the hills, Bak walked back along the caravan. The donkeys looked half asleep, as if each followed the one in front by instinct rather than thought.

From time to time one would shake its head to throw off a fly or pull back its lips for a soft whicker. He scratched each an imal between the ears as he passed it by, grateful for the help it gave to man, the patience it exercised in the most trying of conditions.

Midway in User’s widespread string of men and animals, he stopped to speak with Amonmose, who was trudging along beside a donkey laden with water jars. He carried a long staff as Senna did, and probed the sand in front of him self and his equine companion. Other than ruddy cheeks and a shift dripping with sweat, he seemed no more troubled by the heat than the other men, further convincing Bak that much of his weight was muscle rather than fat.

“You appear to be holding up well in this heat, Lieu tenant,” he said, as if reading Bak’s thought and returning it.

“I must admit I prefer green fields and the northerly breezes along the river,” Bak said with a smile.

Amonmose chuckled. “I’ve already begun to suspect I’ll find the southern route to the Eastern Sea preferable to this path.”

“According to Senna, we’ll reach the next well by midday.

After we leave it behind, we’ve two days ahead of us without water, then another well and two or three more dry days.”

“User told us.” Amonmose licked his lips, whether to moisten them or because he was concerned about the jour ney, Bak could not tell. “He also said the landscape will grow rougher each day.”

“If your decision is nearly made, why not turn back? It’s not too late.” Bak spoke with scant conviction; he doubted

Amonmose would ever give up a task once begun. Certainly not this one. If Ani and Wensu, as green as they were, would not return to Kaine, neither would the more experienced man.

“Minnakht said this way was more direct, and he should know. I’ll stay to the end.”

“Our sovereign’s caravans have traveled the southern route for many generations,” Bak pointed out.

“So my wife reminded me.” Amonmose spoke in a sour voice, as if his spouse had belabored the point.

If she had, Bak thought, nothing less than a catastrophe would make him retreat. “How long ago did you meet Min nakht?”

“I’m not sure exactly. Probably within a few days of the day he set off into the desert, never to return.” Amonmose pulled a square of cloth from beneath his belt and patted the sweat from his face. “In Waset, it was, at a house of pleasure near the waterfront. My youngest son spends too much time there. Drinking, gambling, playing with the women. You know how a youth of fourteen years can be. Irresponsible.

Totally absorbed with fun and games and relieving his sexual urges.” A sudden smile spread across his face. “I find nothing wrong with women, mind you, but all things in moderation,

I say.”

Returning a quick smile, Bak asked, “Did you approach

Minnakht or did he come to you?”

“I’d gone in search of the boy and found instead the ex plorer. I heard him talking to the women there. They were enthralled and, I must admit, so was I. He spoke with a knowledge of the desert that I could never hope to attain. I joined him, offered him a brew, and we talked. He’d heard of my fishing camp and said he’d thought a time or two of sail ing up or down the coast on one of my boats, thinking to has ten his journey. Each time the desert beckoned and in the end he never took advantage of my men’s generosity.”

“Did he say anything about seeking gold?”

Amonmose laughed. “Isn’t that every explorer’s dream?”

Bak laughed with him. Other than an errand such as his own, what besides wealth or royal attention would entice a man into a land as grim and empty of life as this?

“He admitted he hoped to find gold or some precious stone,” Amonmose said, “but he spoke more of the quest for adventure. And knowledge.”

A vague movement caught Bak’s eye, drawing his atten tion to a silla bush a dozen paces away. It looked dead, but small pale purple flowers studded its dry, naked branches.

The sand was slightly disturbed under it, betraying the pres ence of a viper beneath the loose surface granules, waiting to ambush a passing rodent or bird. The serpent was far enough off the track to pose no threat to men or donkeys, so he let it be.

“Before your fishing enterprise, how did you support your family?” he asked.

“I was-and still am-a merchant. I began as a young man with the fish my father netted in the Great Green Sea. Fresh and dried, I traded them to nearby farmers. In exchange, I re ceived the bounty of the land, fruits and vegetables, which I traded in turn to villagers for the products of craftsmen.

Those I bartered at the estates of noblemen, getting in return goats, sheep, and cattle. And so it went. I ultimately traveled all through the land of Kemet, from the Great Green Sea to the land of Wawat. In the end, we grew quite prosperous.”

“We?”

“My three brothers and I. Our families.” With the tip of his staff, Amonmose turned over a flattish rock, revealing noth ing beneath but sand. “My wife would have me stay at home now and play the country gentleman.” A snort of derision burst from his lips. “What a life that would be! The nobility would look down upon me; the men who toil as I’ve done would think me acting above myself. No, thanks! Let her play the fine lady if she wishes, but that’s not the life for me.”

Bak liked Amonmose. He felt as the merchant did and could not imagine a life with no purpose. Could Amonmose slay a man? Most certainly. He had the determination and the strength to take a life should the need arise, and he was so light on his feet that he could probably slip unseen through a brigade of sleeping spearmen. Bak preferred not to think that he might have slain the man at the well.

Amonmose caught the bottom of his tunic, pulled it away from his sweaty belly, and flapped it up and down in a vain attempt to dry himself. “I hope you didn’t mind my insis tence that you join our caravan, Lieutenant.”

“To travel together made sense.”

“Thus I believed, especially with a slayer lurking some where close by.”

Bak gave him an interested look. “You don’t seem a man easily alarmed.”

“Alarmed, no. Cautious, yes.” Amonmose glanced up the line of donkeys toward User and smiled, obviously pleased that he had had his own way. “Why travel in two separate groups when we’re all taking the same path? Not only are we safer, but we now have the benefit of your experience and the pleasure of your company.”

“User believes we’ve no experience.”

“He underestimates you. You and your men are soldiers, proficient fighting men. You may be unschooled in the ways of this particular desert, but you’ve a knowledge of the weak nesses of others that few men attain.”

The words were spoken in so positive a manner they left no doubt of Amonmose’s conviction-and more. “Exactly how far into Wawat did you travel?”

“The fortress of Kubban. No farther, and just the once. A man can grow wealthy in Wawat, but it takes time and pa 76

Lauren Haney tience. Time I preferred to spend in Kemet, trading with men

I’ve known for years.” All the good humor vanished from the merchant’s face; his expression turned grave. “I heard at