he was a guard who knew me.'
'I'm surprised he didn't fire first and look later.' Kasaya fussed with the sail, adjusting the braces for what must have been the hundredth time in less than an hour. No sooner did he settle down to relax than the breeze came from another quarter, emptying the heavy linen and setting it aflutter. As good-natured as the Medjay was and as even tempered, this short voyage downriver was beginning to try his patience. 'None of the governor's guards have much training, I've noticed, especially newer men like Nenu. And with so many deaths you can barely count them on the fingers of one hand, they're all as skittish as gazelles being stalked by a pack of hunting dogs.'
'That must be the island where we'll find Ineni.' Bak, seated in the stern, pointed at a low mound of vegetation in the river ahead. From a distance, it looked like a wayward expanse of fertility broken loose from the narrow strip of farmland betweCn the water's edge and the barren sands of the adjacent desert.
'I thank the lord Amon!' Kasaya muttered, letting the sail drop. Ignoring the fabric crumpled between the upper and lower yards, he took up the oars and began to row. He aimed the vessel toward the narrow channel between the island and the west bank.
'You'd think fear would keep those guards alert and aware of all who come too close, yet Nenu swore he saw no one.' Bak still seethed each time he thought of the big, dumb guard, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, plodding around as witless as the unfinished statue Antef's men had loaded onto a barge. The dolt had in fact seemed skeptical about the whole affair, merely going through the motions as if the archer had been a figment of Bak's imagination.
'He was probably sleeping, like the man at the gatehouse.'
'He faithfully patrolled the grounds of that villa all morning-so he claims.' Bak's voice exuded disbelief. Kasaya's face registered a similar skepticism.
'After I gave up looking for the archer,' Bak said, 'I searched out Amonhotep. He agreed the guards are getting careless, and he promised to impress upon them the need to remain alert.'
'Somebody better stay awake behind those walls. Even I, each time I set foot inside, take care to guard my back.' Bak gave him a sharp look. His own fear, born of the shooting, had quickly turned to anger. And a strong awareness of the need for caution. 'If the guards are afraid and if you, a stranger, also feel threatened, the servants must be terrified.'
'They scurry from room to room like mice fearful of a prowling cat.' Spotting a couple of skiffs drawn up on the shore, Kasaya lifted the tips of the oars from the water and let the small craft drift toward them. 'Only mistress Khawet's firm hand is holding them together.'
'They should thank the gods she's there.' Bak recalled the last time he had seen her and smiled. 'For one who allowed another woman to rule the household, she's taken command in an admirable fashion.'
Kasaya grinned. 'She'd make a more satisfactory governor than her father, I'd wager.'
Bak sat quite still, the words driving home a new thought, one that should have occurred to him sooner. 'You must look after her, Kasaya. I've thought always that Djehuty will be the next to die, but what if I err? What if the slayer takes the life of the one most dear to him? His only daughter.'
Bak scrambled out of the skiff and sent Kasaya rushing back to the governor's villa. He clung to his belief that the slayer would not strike until ten days separated Hatnofer's death from the next, but he deemed it best to take precautions. He could return to Abu with Ineni-or walk back, if he had to.
As he watched the Medjay raise the sail, he realized he had neglected to tell either of his men to lie in wait for the bearer of the unwanted gifts. He raised his hands to his mouth, thinking to call out to Kasaya, but decided not to. With the intrusions escalated to ambush, they surely had seen the last of the more subtle threats.
He followed an overgrown path through knee-high grass and brush so tall he could not see over it. As often as not, he splashed through water, puddles glimpsed among the thick foliage, residue of the recent flood. Birds filled the air with song. An ichneumon-mongoose-darted across his path so fast he almost missed it, and some unseen creature set the grass to waving off to his left. Sweat, drawn from him by the moist heat, trickled down his breast. The island, he guessed, was an immense sandbar saved by the lush growth from destruction by floodwaters and swift currents. The river had deposited this transitory haven and would one day carry it away. The lord Hapi at his best and worst.
Somewhere ahead, he heard the whinny of a horse. His heart skipped a beat and his pace quickened. The years he had spent as a charioteer had given him a deep love of the large and graceful creatures, a sense of comradeship with them. For an instant he wished… No, his task as a police officer suited him better, challenged his wits in addition to his body. He could not, would not go back.
He burst through a thicket of brush and vines. Ahead lay a pasture covered with grass so tall it brushed the bellies of fifty or more red-and-white-spotted, short-horned cattle. Two small boys sat on a mound of earth, watching the herd. A pack of curly-haired black dogs lay in the grass around them.
The boys glanced at Bak, who waved a greeting. One youth scrambled to his feet, put his fingers to his mouth, and gave a long, trilling whistle, signaling the arrival of a stranger. Warning their father, he thought, and Ineni and possibly others as well, men who would come running if needed. He walked in among the grazing cattle, animals as plump and healthy as any he had ever seen. Small brown birds clung to their necks and backs, harvesting insects, while egrets pecked the soggy earth around their hooves. Ineni had talked of having a skill for farming. If these animals were representative, the claim was no exaggeration.
As he cleared the herd, the governor's son and a toughlooking man with a bent nose waded out of the river. Both carried stout wooden clubs they looked prepared to use. Bak strode toward them across a patch of scruffy grass heavily trodden by animals.
Beyond, a herd of thirty or more horses stood shoulderdeep in the river, blowing, whinnying, throwing up their heads for the sheer joy of life, shaking water from their long manes. About half were a rich golden-brown, the rest white, gray, or black. A boy of twelve or so years sat astride a thicknecked black animal Bak guessed was the stallion from the land of Hatti that Ineni had mentioned a few days before. Three men half swam, half walked among the herd, controlling the animals with gentle hands and kindly voices and at the same time keeping a wary eye on Bak. A second boy stood close to shore, minding a dozen foals.
'So it's you.' Ineni's voice was cool, unwelcoming. 'Do you always greet visitors in this friendly manner?' Bak asked, nodding toward the weapons, 'or do you reserve so warm a welcome for police officers?'
Ineni's eyes flashed anger. 'If you've come at Djehuty's behest, Lieutenant, you've wasted your time.'
'I answer to no man but Commandant Thuty-and he's. in faroff Buhen.'
Bak was puzzled by the clubs, by the defensive posture. The herd was large and impressive, true, and extremely valuable, but the punishment for stealing horses was so harsh few men would take the risk. Even wild desert tribesmen were seldom tempted, with fear of impalement to dissuade them.
Ineni glared, too tied to his own purpose to pay heed. 'I'll menage the Nubt estate as I see fit, not trade away its assets is response to a whim.'
Bak scowled at the pair before him, not understanding.'I've come in search of information, that's all. Now will you` drop those clubs and let me get on with my task?'
'You've not come to.. Ineni's voice faltered. He lowered his weapon and stared at Bak in confusion. 'Djehuty didn't send you? You're not here to see these horses delivered to the animal market in Swenet?'
Bak's eyes darted toward the magnificent animals. 'You're not selling them!'
'Djehuty ordered me to.' Ineni's voice pulsed with anger-and defiance.
'You've decided to oppose him?'
'I have.' Ineni half turned around to look at the herd. 'A desert chieftain, head of a tribe of nomads, men who travel the burning sands through all the months of the year, has come to Djehuty time and time again, pleading for horses. Two days ago he came again, and my father agreed to trade away the herd, each and every animal, even the stallion from Hatti.'
Bak muttered a curse, stunned by so rash an action. 'Why?'
'I know what those tribesmen are. They're wild and unruly, men of great passion but no common sense. If the horses don't die from lack of care and the proper food and water, they'll run them until they drop, then they'll hack them to pieces for food. I won't let that happen.'
'Where will you take them?' Abruptly, Bak raised his hands, signaling silence. 'No, don't tell me. I was ordered to Abu to track down a slayer, not stand between a man and his father.'
Ineni's laugh was soft, containing no humor whatsoever, but broke the tension between them. 'I thank the
