Lauren Haney - Path of Shadows

Bak knelt beside the shallow stream that gave life to the palms and tamarisks, the tall rushes that grew along its banks, and the brush that grew among the trees. According to the guide, the water appeared from out of nowhere and vanished in an equally mysterious fashion. It had an odd smell and tasted brackish, but was not so salty that it discour aged the presence of wildlife. Birds, lizards, and insects abounded, and the prints of gazelle and other larger animals revealed occasional visits, probably to eat rather than to drink the disagreeable water.

Hoping to learn where Minnakht had gone, Psuro and the nomad guide walked upstream while Bak and Nebre fol lowed the slowly moving water in the opposite direction. As the guide had predicted, the stream trickled away, leaving be hind a few patches of damp sand and a row of tamarisks clinging to the bank of a dry channel cut through a wider bed of gravel over which long ago had flowed a substantial river.

Beyond the scrubby trees, Nebre found signs partially oblit erated by wind of the explorer’s arrival from the west, but no prints indicating that he had left.

“Did he bring so much water with him that he had no need to replenish his supply?” Bak asked.

“Could he have brought enough for himself and two don keys?” Nebre gave a disapproving grunt. “I’d wager not.”

Psuro and the guide met them at the abandoned campsite.

They had had better luck.

“He’s run away,” the sergeant said. “He took his donkeys and walked upstream. The lord Amon alone knows how far he’s gone.”

Bak’s smile was grim. “I suggest we go hunting.”

Leaving their donkeys in the care of the guide, Bak and his

Medjays walked up a wadi barren of water and life. The high walls to either side entrapped the sun’s heat and the carpet of gravel absorbed it, turning the wadi into an oven. Sweat poured from the men, and the water they drank failed to quench their thirst.

Armed with bows and arrows, they ranged the width of the wadi floor, looking for signs of a man’s passage. The gravel made footprints difficult to find, but swarming flies drew them to two disturbances of pebbles which, when dug into, covered piles of manure similar to the one they had found in the oasis. Bak wondered if Minnakht had allowed the donkeys to drink the brackish water. Whatever had caused their distress, he doubted they could go on for long without proper care.

Frequently, he called out, “Minnakht! We’ve parted from the caravan and are traveling alone. You can show yourself now.”

Sometimes he shouted, “Minnakht! Your donkeys are ail ing. If they should die, you’ll not survive a week alone.”

More than an hour after they set out, they rounded a bend and spotted ahead a man walking toward them. Two laden donkeys plodded along behind him, stumbling at times on the loose gravel. As he and the weary animals drew near, Bak and Nebre identified the man who had approached them in the Eastern Desert. Minnakht. His tunic and kilt were clean and bright, but he needed a shave, his hair was too long, and his face looked haggard. He carried a bow and arrows. A spear and shield and a harpoon were suspended from the load on one of the donkeys.

He walked slowly toward them, cautious, mistrustful. A dozen paces away, he offered a tentative smile.

Bak smiled in return. “You’ve been alone too long, Min nakht. You must learn anew that some men can be trusted.

My Medjays and I among them.”

With a sharp laugh, Minnakht dropped the rope leads of the donkeys and rushed forward. He greeted Bak like a long lost friend, clasping his shoulders and giving him a broad smile. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you, Lieutenant.

I feel as one with the Eastern Desert and don’t mind its soli tude, but here I’m like a bird with a broken wing, unable to fly or care for itself.”

“No more,” Bak said, laughing. “You’ll remain with us un til we see you home.”

Minnakht jerked back, startled. “I told you before. I can’t go home. If anyone were to learn that I still live, word would spread like fire in a stiff wind. Those who tried to slay me would search me out, beat me to learn a secret I don’t hold in my heart, and take my life without a qualm.”

“Your father longs to see you again. You must go to him.”

Minnakht glanced at Nebre, who had taken up the ropes, ready to lead the donkeys back to the oasis, and at Psuro, standing off to the side, bow in hand, waiting. “I’d never complete the journey across the Eastern Desert.”

Bak held out his hand, signaling that they must return to the oasis. “Why imprison yourself in the desert wastes? Do you not wish to bathe in a true river, to walk through lush fields, to lead the life of a man of ease, one free to go where he wishes in a land of plenty such as Kemet?”

Reluctantly, Minnakht fell in beside him and they strode together down the wadi, followed by the Medjays and don keys. “I’d like nothing better, but…”

“Do you not hold your father close within your heart?

Would you not like to see him?”

“You know I would! But I fear you’d deliver nothing to him but the few small items I carry with me and news of my death.”

“I guarantee your safety.”

Minnakht’s mouth curled in a cynical smile. “Senna told me how many men were slain while you crossed the Eastern

Desert. As he also died in the end. And all the while, you and your men slept nearby.”

Bak bit back a sharp retort. The accusation had merit, but stung nonetheless. A hiss behind him told him what Psuro thought, or maybe Nebre. “My men and I will never let you out of our sight, that I vow. We’ll guard you day and night.”

“You tempt me with freedom,” Minnakht said with a bitter smile. “but you’d make me your prisoner.”

“I don’t deny that we’ll hold you close, but only for the time it takes to cross the sea and the Eastern Desert. When you reach Kemet, you can tell all the world that you found no gold and your life will no longer be at risk.”

Minnakht flashed a smile that failed to hide his irritation.

“All right, Lieutenant. I’ll come with you. But should I be in jured or slain, I pray your conscience doesn’t trouble you so much that never again will you rest easy.”

Bak knelt beside Sergeant Psuro, who was skinning a hare he had trapped, and spoke softly so his voice would not carry.

“Will Minnakht’s donkeys survive the journey to the sea?”

“If the sickness was caused by the tainted water in the stream, as Nebre and I believe, and if we share our good wa ter with them, their illness should clear up and their strength return. We must also lighten their loads and not push them too hard. We’ve already tended the galls on their shoulders.”

Psuro spat on the ground, a sign of contempt he had copied from Troop Captain Nebwa. “That Minnakht. What kind of man is he to treat his animals so?”

“Fear can make a man push beyond endurance the crea tures he needs most. Not wise in a desert such as this, where one’s life is so dependent upon their well-being.”

Psuro eyed with tight-lipped disapproval the man of whom they spoke, who was kneeling at the edge of the stream, washing his face and arms. “And he professes to be a man of the desert.”

Because Minnakht’s donkeys were weak and Bak’s ani mals had to carry a considerable amount of extra weight, the journey down the wadi to the sea took two days more than it should have. Neither Psuro nor Nebre nor the nomad guide bothered to hide their contempt for a man who would sacri fice his animals for himself. Bak, who wanted to set Min nakht at ease, took care not to register his own disapproval.

The wadi opened out onto the shore. After spending so many days in the barren desert, the clear blue waters lapping the sand drew them like ants to honey. Laughing like chil dren, in too much of a rush to remove their clothing, they raced into the water and indulged themselves in a long, re freshing swim. Later in the day, their guide led them south to the next oasis, which was located at the base of rounded grayish hills rising behind a narrow coastal plain. An open pool containing drinkable water supported a lush palm grove, grass, reeds, and tamarisk, and a tiny garden whose ancient caretaker dwelt in a palm-frond shack. From their camp, they could see the glittering expanse of water that merged with the sky on the horizon.