this desert?”
Praying he was making the right decision, Bak admitted,
“We are soldiers, yes. Commandant Thuty, my superior offi cer, has known Commander Inebny, Minnakht’s father, for many years. The commander persuaded my commandant that Minnakht must be found. Commandant Thuty sent me into this desert to look for him.”
“You lie!” Nefertem stood up and slapped Bak hard across the face. “You walk at the head of a caravan filled with men seeking wealth, men whose honesty is less than it should be.”
Infuriated by the insult, Bak shot to his feet and reached for his dagger. His hand fell on an empty sheath. A half dozen nomads leaped up, caught his arms, and manhandled him to the ground.
“Release him!” Nefertem ordered scornfully. “He can hurt no one. He’s as helpless as a newborn puppy.”
Bak shook off the restraining hands, scrambled up, and, forming a contemptuous look, laughed. “Without a shield of men, Nefertem, you’d be as helpless as you’ve made me.”
For an instant, he thought he had gone too far. Nefertem took a quick step toward him, his hands balled into fists, his expression murderous. Controlling himself with obvious ef fort, he clamped a hand on Bak’s shoulder so tight the bones grated and pushed him to the ground. “Sit, Lieutenant Bak.”
The nomad loomed over him, his stance, his face, his voice calculated to intimidate. “I want the truth. Why have you come into this desert?”
“I came to find Minnakht.”
“You’ve come for the gold you think he found,” Nefertem insisted.
“If that’s what you wish to believe, so be it. Listen to your own thoughts and pay no heed to anyone else. Dismiss the truth and shrug off any words of advice I or anyone else might offer.”
Bak braced himself for another blow. To suggest to a proud and intelligent man that he preferred to live in ignorance was as much of a slap in the face as the one he had suffered.
The nomad glared, furious, and at the same time he shifted his feet, as if the accusation had struck home. “Rumors abound in Kaine, I’ve been told. Why would you search for a missing man when the lure of gold is stronger?”
“I’m guided by my commandant’s wishes, not by tales of wealth that sound more like dreams than reality.”
Nefertem crossed his arms in front of his chest. After a long, thoughtful silence, he said, “Let’s say you speak the truth. Why, then, are you traveling with that wretched guide
Senna? And with User, who’s come into this desert for many years in an endless quest for gold.”
“Senna didn’t want to come any more than I did, but Com mander Inebny gave him no choice. He believed I should travel the same route Minnakht followed on his last journey, and Senna knew the way. I had to accept, had to trust him to lead me along a safe and true path.”
“You bargain with the lord Set.” Shaking his head in exag gerated sympathy, Nefertem dropped to the ground beside his prisoner.
The darkness was complete, allowing Bak to glimpse in the scant light bits and pieces of Nefertem’s men: a knee here, a face there, arms and legs and hands. A scene from the netherworld, he felt sure.
He thanked the lord Amon that he was no longer befud dled by the sleeping potion. “I’ve answered you as best I can.
Will you not tell me what’s happened to my men? To the car avan?”
“Why are those men so important to you, Lieutenant? If you’ve not come to find gold, why should you care about them?”
“I stand at the head of my Medjays. Not only are they my responsibility, but I care for them as brothers. As for the other men, I took it upon myself to travel with them. I’d be negli gent in my duty not to care for their safety.”
“Bah!”
That one tiny word infuriated Bak. “Have you taken all their lives, the innocent along with the guilty? Are you also the man responsible for Minnakht’s disappearance? For all the other dead and missing men in this area?”
“No,” the nomad growled through gritted teeth.
“Have I nothing to look forward to but death?”
Nefertem literally spat out his answer. “My father was
Minnakht’s guide for many years. We are as brothers.”
“Your…” Bak clamped his mouth shut and gave the no mad a sharp look. Should he have guessed the connection?
“Your father died about a year ago, I’ve been told, and Senna took his place.”
“He did not die. He was slain at the hands of another.”
Bak should have been surprised. He was not. Too many men had died or disappeared in this wretched desert to take the nomad lightly. “Tell me.”
“A year ago, he came home to our camp in the mountains, suffering from a mysterious malady.” Nefertem’s voice pulsed with anger. “He was convinced he’d been poisoned, but knew not when or how or by whom. Within a few days, he breathed his last. Minnakht knew I wasn’t free to serve as his guide, nor was my brother, so he asked Senna to travel with him.”
“Did your father say why he thought someone wished him dead?”
“He could think of no good reason.”
“Senna is not a man of this desert. Where did Minnakht find him?”
“A friend recommended him, he said.”
Bak studied the nomad thoughtfully. “Why did you make me your prisoner, Nefertem? You guessed my men and I are soldiers. Did you not realize we were traveling with User’s caravan but apart?”
“You walked in front, leading the way.” Nefertem spoke with a stubborn certainty.
“I preferred not to breathe the dust of the other men and their donkeys throughout our journey,” Bak said with a wry smile.
Nefertem was not amused. “Your men served as guards and scouts.”
“We knew we were being watched. I was concerned for our safety, as well as the well-being of the caravan.” Bak glanced around, found the water bowl, and sipped from it.
“As I was right to be. The watching man must’ve kept you well informed as to our whereabouts.”
“My people, those who travel with their flocks to water and forage, told us where you were and what you were doing.
I had no need to send a man to watch you.”
“Oh?” Bak raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Who is he then?”
“I know not.” Nefertem frowned. “My people have told me of his presence in this desert, but they don’t know him.
He’s wary of them. He lets no one draw near enough to see his face.”
The two men eyed one another, the nomad seemingly as puzzled as his prisoner. With no answer in sight, Bak asked,
“Did you think, if you took me away from the caravan, the other men would return to Kaine?”
“User is a hard man to turn around. I doubted your disap pearance would persuade him to do so.” Nefertem glowered at Bak. “I knew or thought I understood why he and the oth ers came into this desert. You were unknown to me. I wanted to know who you were and what you expected to gain from your journey.”
“Has the caravan turned back?”
Nefertem hesitated as if he thought to make further use of his silence, but at length he answered. “No. User’s guide
Dedu is leading it instead of Senna, and your Medjays are wearing themselves out, scouring the land through which they travel, searching for you.”
“Was anyone hurt after you took me?”
“To injure men and animals was not our intent.”
Bak offered a silent prayer of thanks to the lord Amon. “I suppose the many footprints your men left the day before the attack were designed to confuse my Medjays when they tried to follow those who took me.”
