Lauren Haney - Path of Shadows

Later, after returning to the pools, Bak had pointed out the slope on which he had first seen the nomad. Kaha had climbed the incline. Higher up, he had found a print of the sandal worn by the watching man.

“The boy went off alone, you say.” Psuro adjusted his seat on the hard ground. “If he was truly what he said and was no friend of the watching man, do you think he got away unharmed?”

“Coming back from my foolhardy chase, I looked specifi cally for his footprints,” Bak said. “I found the place where he left the wadi to climb a hillside too rough and rocky to leave traces of himself. From that point on, I walked in reverse the path he took when he left here, covering all sign of his passing. I saw nothing to indicate that he’d been fol lowed, and I doubt he can be now.”

Kaha and Nebre exchanged a look. The latter spoke for them both. “User wishes to spend the night here. We should have plenty of time during the cooler hours of evening to track the man you chased.”

“I’d wager the last drop of water in this bowl…” Bak held up the container from which he had been drinking.

“… that he’s even now somewhere above the pools, watch ing us.”

The Medjays looked distinctly uncomfortable with the thought.

Kaha broke their long, unhappy silence. “Nefertem must’ve sent him. How else would he have known to look for you here?”

Bak could not bring himself to trust Nefertem without res ervation, but the nomad had been true to his word as far as the pools were concerned and the caravan had come as predicted.

“I first saw him watching us a day’s walk down the main wadi that descends to the west. Is that not the way you came?”

Nebre shifted a blade of dry grass from one corner of his mouth to the other. “We did.”

“Either that’s the only way to reach the pass we crossed to get here, or someone in the caravan told him the route you meant to take and he hurried on ahead to intercept you. My coming along may’ve been a surprise.”

Bak spoke reluctantly of a traitor in their midst. He had been greeted like a long-lost brother, with every man in the caravan clapping him on the back, expressing his joy at his return, and letting him know in a multitude of ways how worried they all had been for his safety. He had described his abduction as briefly as possible and had evaded further questions, saying the nomads had known few words of the tongue of Kemet.

“We’ve a snake among us, you think?” Kaha spat out a curse.

“Why take such interest in this caravan?” Psuro asked.

“We’ve done nothing of note, nor are we likely to.”

Bak gave him a wry smile. “Nefertem seemed to think we’re seeking the gold Minnakht is rumored to have found.”

“Bah! User’s been looking for gold for years. He’s never found a thing.”

“Will he be all right?” Bak asked.

Dedu let the donkey’s hoof drop to the ground. The crea ture sidled away, favoring the one leg. “A night’s rest will help. After that, we’ll see.”

User’s nomad guide was at least ten years older than

Senna, closer in age to the explorer than to any of the other men in the caravan. White hairs were visible among the black and deep wrinkles etched his face.

Bak knelt beside him to help him gather together tweezers, a small knife, a razor, and several other bronze tools suitable for use when men or animals needed medical care. “Do you always travel with User when he comes into this desert?”

“When I was a young man…” Dedu flashed a smile, cor rected himself. “When he and I were young, I served always as his guide. But I took a wife and she bore me many chil dren. Responsibility weighed heavy on my shoulders, and my days of wandering came to an end.”

Bak smothered a smile. The nomad may have ceased to wander far from his wife, but in the ensuing years, he and his family had without doubt roamed far and wide over the East ern Desert. “Your children have grown, I suppose, allowing you more time away?”

Dedu dropped the tools into a soft leather bag along with a dozen small packets of herbs. “While at the market in Kaine,

I heard men talking about User and this journey he planned.

I’ve long wanted to increase my flock and I know he gives fair exchange for labor.” A twinkle came to his eyes. “And if the truth be told, I missed the old days.”

Smiling, Bak stood up. “So you offered your services.”

“This, I think, will be my last journey. I thought never to say so, but I long for my wife.”

Laughing, Bak eased the guide toward the hillside over looking the pools, where the rock-strewn slope lay in shadow. A gentle breeze ruffled the grass and reeds, the leaves on the bushes. Most of the men had entered the gorge for their evening meal, and the limping donkey was nibbling his way toward his equine companions hobbled within the overhanging walls.

“Did you know Minnakht?” Bak asked, sitting on a flattish rock near the base of the slope.

Dedu chose a rock not far away. “Each time he came through my family’s territory, he stopped for a day or a night.

He was a good man. Should he not return-and after so long a time, I think it unlikely-we’ll miss him.”

“Did he bring Senna with him?”

“Since a year ago. I envied Senna his task. The gods surely smiled upon him when they sent him to Minnakht.”

“Had you ever met him before? He told me he’s a man from the north, but said he first came here many years ago.”

Dedu placed the leather bag on a rock close to his feet. He adjusted the way it lay and adjusted it a second time. Evi dently sensing Bak’s eyes upon him, he said, “Once before, I saw him. Five years ago or longer.”

Bak gave him a speculative look, wondering why the de lay in answering. “Was he serving as a guide at that time?”

Another hesitation. “He was.”

Giving no sign that he noticed Dedu’s reticence, Bak said,

“He mentioned toiling as a boy for a man who wanted above all things to find gold. Was he traveling with him at that time?

A man your age or older, I’d guess.”

“No.”

The nomad had been very forthcoming earlier. What had stolen his words? “Minnakht’s father sent me into this desert to find his son, Dedu. So far, I’ve learned nothing. I don’t even know if I can trust Senna.”

“I know nothing to Senna’s discredit.”

“Something happened five years ago. What was it?”

Dedu shook his head. “Nothing.”

“You claim you liked Minnakht. Why will you not help me in my quest?”

“What happened to me and mine has nothing to do with his disappearance.”

“I can’t be sure until you tell me.”

Dedu lowered his head, covering his face with his hands.

When at last he spoke, his voice was thick with distress.

“Senna came to our camp in the mountains. The man he trav eled with was not old. Twenty years, no more.” He raised his face to Bak, letting him see his shame. “My daughter, a child of beauty and innocence, was twelve years of age. She was betrothed to the son of one of our clan leaders, a youth she claimed to love above all others. That man with Senna smiled upon her and she in turn smiled at him. They went off to gether for a night and a day and another night. If her be trothed had been any other man, her loss of purity would’ve been of no significance, easily forgiven and quickly forgot ten. But the son of a chief must keep the line pure. That man with Senna ruined her in the eyes of her betrothed.”

Bak laid a sympathetic hand on the nomad’s arm. “What part did Senna play?”

“He went out to find them and brought my daughter back.”

Bitterness entered Dedu’s voice. “Later, we learned she was with child. She lives with me yet, she and the girl, and she re fuses to wed any other man, convinced the swine will one day come back for her.”