Watching the boy scurry away, Thuty shook his head in dismay. “Why did the lord Amon bless me with so many children?”
The question, oft-repeated, required no answer.
The commandant laid the scroll on a low table beside his chair and wove his fingers together across his stomach.
“Clean the playthings off those stools and sit down.” He nodded toward several low seats scattered around the room, providing transitory surfaces for dolls, pull toys, balls, and a child’s board game. “I’ve a most important item to discuss.”
Bak sat between Nebwa and the big Medjay. Feeling somewhat ridiculous with a bowl on his lap, he placed the honey and its precious cargo on the floor by his feet. The room was hot; a slight breeze drifting through the courtyard door had not the power to dry the thin film of sweat coating his face and body. A strong scent of braised catfish and onions wafted through the air, reminding him that he and Imsiba had missed their midday meal.
Thuty stared at the bowl, obviously curious, but before Bak could explain, his eyes darted away, his thoughts leaping to the purpose of his summons. “I’ve been asked to take command of the garrison at Mennufer. I like Buhen better than any other place I’ve been, but I feel I must move on to the more prestigious post. I’ve accepted the task.”
Bak was stunned, the news too difficult to grasp. Imsiba gaped, unable to believe. Nebwa, the commandant’s second-in-command, muttered an oath beneath his breath, his usual response to so startling a pronouncement.
“When will you leave, sir?” Bak managed.
Thuty’s eyes settled on Nebwa, as if he had asked the question. “I’ll remain in Buhen until my replacement arrives. The officer selected, Commander Neferperet from the garrison at Waset, should report here in about a month.”
The troop captain, an untidy, coarse-featured man in his early thirties, looked stricken. “A man new to this land of Wawat?”
Bak’s heart leaped out to the officer, one of his closest friends. All who dwelt in Buhen knew of Nebwa’s long posting in the garrison and his high level of competence. Few had doubted he would be given command should Thuty leave.
Thuty looked exceedingly uncomfortable. “I know you hoped to replace me as commandant of Buhen, but Viceroy Inebny thought to make you commander of Semna instead.
Later, he said, you’ll have the additional experience needed to occupy my chair.”
“I understand, sir.” Skipping a rank was unusual and they all knew it, but Nebwa’s disappointment was plain. He was as well-schooled in the commandant’s many duties as Thuty himself.
“I countered with a suggestion I believe far more advantageous-to you and me both.” Thuty leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. His brows were heavy, his chin firm, and the normally hard set of his mouth was relieved by what looked suspiciously like self-satisfaction.
The same look he displayed when proclaiming a positive outcome to an impossible assignment not yet begun. “I wish you to go north with me, Troop Captain, north to Mennufer.”
Bak sucked in his breath, startled by the idea, dismayed at the thought of losing so close a friend.
“Sir?” Nebwa asked, as if not sure he had heard right.
“Mennufer is a large and important training garrison directly under the eye of Menkheperre Thutmose.” Thuty spoke of their sovereign’s nephew and stepson, co-ruler in name only, a youth who had taken upon himself the task of rebuilding an army that had languished from years of neglect. “If I’m to do my task well-and I’m determined to do so-I must have as my right hand a man I can trust, one of unusual competence and ability, one uninvolved in political intrigue. I see you as that man.”
Nebwa looked doubtful. The son of a common soldier, born and reared in Wawat, he had always been posted on the 12
Lauren Haney
southern frontier. Of equal importance, his wife was a local woman. A move to Kemet would not be easy for either of them. “Is that an order, sir?”
“I’d make you my second-in-command, Nebwa, as you are here, and head of all training. I believe the rank of troop captain too low for such a responsible task.”
“I’ll be leaving everything I know, sir.” Nebwa glanced at Bak and Imsiba. “Including men I hold closer in my heart than I would a brother.”
Thuty waved off the objection. “I suggested to Inebny that Lieutenant Bak also accompany me to Mennufer.”
Bak felt as if he had been hit hard in the stomach: a bit sick and his breath torn away. “What of my men, sir? How can I leave them?” Immediately after the words were spoken, shame washed through him. Imsiba, his logical successor, was as competent a leader of men as he was. Maybe more so. To leave behind a friend so close would be abominable, but if the big Medjay gained by the loss, the breach should be easier to accept.
“The Medjays in Mennufer are civil police.” Thuty’s eyes drifted toward the bowl on the floor. He paused as if losing his thought, then looked back at the man to whom he was speaking. “I need a dependable force to maintain order in the garrison, a force part of and yet separate from the army, as you and your men are here. And so I told Inebny. He’s agreed that you may go with me as a unit, should you desire.
If so, he’ll request a fresh company of Medjays to replace the men.”
“Am I to go with them, sir?” Imsiba asked. The very fact that he had been summoned with Bak portended change.
“I recognize how invaluable you are to Bak’s company, but I hesitated to recommend that you move north with us.
You’re fully capable of standing at the head of the new unit of Medjays, and you’re worthy of promotion to an officer’s rank. In addition, I know your wife’s cargo ship sails out of Buhen and her business thrives.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’ve a choice to make, Sergeant. To step into Bak’s sandals and move up in rank, or to go with your friends to Mennufer.” He looked back at Nebwa, who clung to his doubtful expression as if it were molded of gold, and added,
“If they decide to go.”
Bak thought of how fond he had become of this desolate fortress to which he had initially been exiled. Buhen was his home, a place he loved above all others. How could he leave? How could any of them leave? “Can you give us a few days to think on the matter, sir?”
“A day or two at most. Should you choose to go, Inebny will need time to summon replacements.” A scowl flitted across Thuty’s face, an afterthought that must be aired. “One thing more you must know, Lieutenant, Sergeant. If you choose to go with me, I can promise no increase in rank.
You’d both have to prove yourselves once again-not to me, but to the many men in lofty positions who’ve nothing better to do than sit on their plump backsides and criticize their betters.”
“Yes, sir,” they said as one.
Nebwa joined in the chorus, as aware as Bak and Imsiba that he also would have to impress the bureaucrats who dwelt and toiled in the northern capital.
Thuty’s glance dropped to the bowl at Bak’s feet. “Now what have you brought, Lieutenant?”
“I can just about understand a man, one whose family is starving, breaking into a tomb in a time of need.” Thuty dropped heavily onto his chair, rubbed his eyes. “But today?
No. We live in a time of prosperity, where every man has a task and none face want.”
Bak let the bracelet fall from the tip of his dagger and sink back into its viscous gold bath. “Greed is seldom related to need, sir.”
Ignoring the banality, Thuty motioned him to sit. As soon as Bak had told his tale, Imsiba and Nebwa had hurried away, both to talk to their wives about the prospect of leaving Buhen for a new and different life in the faraway city of Mennufer. Bak was grateful he had no one close to tell, no one to whom he must break such startling news. Except Hori. And the Medjays. Men he must speak with right away, before they heard from some other source.
“Other than getting the truth from Nenwaf and seeing that he’s punished, the theft isn’t our problem,” Thuty
