officer, he thought it best to let this particular item die a natural death from lack of attention. 'More than half the bricks are coming away broken, I see. Has that been the case since you started this task?'
The smile faded from the sergeant's face. 'The mud hasn't been moistened for years and the straw that binds it has rotted away. Here, let me show you.' He strode to a mound of bricks so broken they looked like the clods in a newly plowed field. Picking up a chunk, he crumbled the black earth between his fingers, turning it to dust. 'You see?'
Bak's voice grew firm, an officer speaking to a lesser man. 'Have you tried other walls in other parts of Iken?' The sergeant stiffened at the unexpected tone of command. 'No, sir, but I doubt… '
'Do it. The buildings in this city couldn't have been raised all at one time or by a single brickmaker or mason. The binder will be different, the consistency, the way they dried. They'll have weathered in different ways, depending on their location.'
Minnakht's eyes narrowed in thought, then a look of approval passed over his face. Without another word, he selected five men and sent them to various ruined sections of the city.
Bak watched the nearest man slowly, painstakingly extract a brick from a wall. 'Tell the men here to cut bigger blocks from these poor walls. The island fortress has many large gaps as*ell as small ones.'
'Yes, sir.' The sergeant strode through the ruined building, issuing the new orders. By the time he came back, his men looked more cheerful and he more content with this new and untried officer to whom they must report.
Satisfied with the tentative acceptance, Bak let his voice return to normal. 'Puemre served for a short time in my old regiment, the regiment of Amon. Why did he transfer so soon to Wawat?'
'The officers there, he told me, were youthful men firmly settled in their ranks, leaving few opportunities for a newcomer. He thought promotion would come faster on the frontier.'
'So he came to Iken, where all the officers were older men; firmly settled in their ranks.'
Minnakht stared straight ahead; his voice turned defensive. 'If the truth were known, the officers in the regiment of Amon probably turned their backs against him, as they did here.'
Yes, Bak thought, like most men of courage and integrity, they had no time for a man who thought himself more deserving than he was. 'You got along well with him, I've been told.'
'He wasn't the easiest man to please, but he was a good officer-the best I've ever known.' The sergeant turned away so Bak could not see his face, and a huskiness filled his throat. 'When any of us needed help, he was generous with both his time and his wealth. When we marched into battle, he was the first to face the enemy, and he was the bravest. Once he understood the ways of the frontier, he never planned a skirmish that failed.'
Bak was surprised at Minnakht's depth of feeling, like a man grieving for a friend rather than an officer. 'What of mistress Mutnefer? Did he speak to you of her?'
'Many times. He thought her a kind and gentle woman, one to love through eternity. He meant to take her with him when he went back to Kemet.' Minnakht's eyes spilled over. With an annoyed grimace, he brushed away the tears. 'He planned to make her his wife.'
Bak gave him a sharp look. 'His wife? She told me he meant to keep her as his concubine.'
'He talked many times to me of facing his father over the matter, but he never told her. He wished to surprise her.'
Bak had seldom heard so sad a tale. No wonder Minnakht was upset. 'It's best she never knows. Her life's already filled with toil and poverty. To add the knowledge of what might have been would double the hardship.'
'She'll not hear it from me, of that you can be sure.' Minnakht glanced at Bak as if searching for approval. 'I mean to take her for my wife, if she'll have me.'
'Mutnefer?' Bak asked, startled by the admission. 'My wife died in childbirth two years ago. I've felt no great need for a home and family since her death, but now the time has come. I want Mutnefer, and I wish to take the child as my own.'
'You're certain Minnakht was in the barracks when Puemre was slain?' Bak asked.
'Yes, sir.' Pashenuro's eyes darted along the line of men carrying old, dry bricks up the path from the supply boat to the island fortress. 'He stayed the night, as always.'
They stood at the gate, watching the men work with an ant-like patience and tenacity. The sun was dropping toward the western horizon, the shadows lengthening, the northern breeze carrying away the intense heat of the day. The sharp chirp of a sparrow sounded above the roar of the rapids. The mound of bricks on deck shrank rapidly as crewmen shifted their cargo onto trays suspended from yokes across the shoulders of the infantrymen. They, in turn, plodded up the steep path, balancing the unfamiliar load with care, and deposited the bricks at the base of the walls, where they were raised to the scaffolding or ramparts for use by m1n repairing broken sections of wall.
'Would his men lie for him?' Bak asked.
'Others were there, too,' Pashenuro said. 'Outsiders who'd have nothing to gain by saying they saw him when they didn't: eleven guards traveling north with a royal envoy and three spearmen journeying upriver for assignment at Semna.'
'I see the sense in Minnakht's taking Mutnefer as his wife,' Bak admitted, 'but when he confessed he coveted her, I was sorely tempted by the obvious conclusion. If I thought Puemre's death an ordinary murder, I'd have locked him away then and there.'
'I like him.' Pashenuro's eyes darted toward another cargo boat coming around the end of the long island, an idle craft Minnakht had searched out after his men had found several productive sources of brick. 'Lieutenant Puemre was lucky to have him in his company.'
'Pashenuro!' A mason perched high on a scaffold beckoned.
Bak could see his presence was an added burden the Medjay did not need. 'You've much to do before nightfall, so go on about your business. I can check the repairs without dragging you around with me.'
Bak was more than satisfied with the work that had been done. The repairs on the long eastern wall, which had suffered the least through the years from natural and human erosion, were completed. The fresh plaster holding the patches together could not entirely be disguised, but the wall was whole, with no sign of neglect except for damaged spur walls invisible from the interior. He strode back to the much shorter northern wall and the gaping hole at the west comer, where most of the men were working. Pashenuro had vowed the whole span would be fixed before nightfall. 'Those men deserve a reward.'
Bak swung around, startled more by the echo of his ownthoughts than the unexpected presence behind him. 'Senu! What brings you to this island outpost?'
The short, stocky lieutenant watched a tray of bricks being raised to a broken section of battlement. 'I came upon Sergeant Minnakht and his men, tearing down a block of ancient buildings and carrying them away from Iken brick by brick. I wanted to see for myself where all those bricks are going.'
What's a watch officer doing way out here? Bak wondered. Especially so near the end of the day when he must soon inspect the sentries assigned to night duty? True, Senu had commanded most of these men before Puemre was given the company; but to come so late? 'We'll leave a few buildings standing'-he grinned-'those dwellings that are fully occupied.'
Senn laughed. 'There's a warehouse not far from my quarters I wouldn't mind seeing pulled down. It was long ago used to store grain; today it holds nothing but rats.'
'If you're serious about its destruction, speak with Minnakht.'
'I will. The pests are everywhere.' Senu eyed the long eastern wall with a studied interest. 'How's your search progressing for Puemre's slayer?'
A fishing expedition, Bak thought. Why am I not surprised? 'I've been side-tracked today and have faced a major setback, but I'm confident I'll soon lay hands on the guilty man.'
If Senu noticed how meaningless the words were, he gave no indication. 'Now there's been another death, I hear. The murder of an innocent child. Did the same man slay him, I wonder?'
'I've had no time to tie the threads together, but could his death so soon after that of his master be a coincidence?' Giving Senu no time to form an answer, Bak took his arm and ushered him along the finished wall. 'Come, let me show you the work we're doing.'
As, they walked, he pointed out several repairs, then said, 'I've been told you once fought with our army in Kush, winning the 'gold of valor.'
'That was a long time ago, twenty-seven years.' Senu's face clouded. 'I was a callow youth, more foolhardy
