washed down a wadi from afar. If he believed them promising, we ventured farther afield.”
Bak wondered if Minnakht had restricted his explorations solely because of the proximity to water or if something had convinced him that he would find what he sought in the trian gular area Senna had described. User had never ceased to study the landscape through which they walked. He had dis 168
Lauren Haney played no special interest in anything he saw and derided the idea that gold would be found this far north. Eyeing the bro ken and eroded granite around them, Bak was inclined to agree.
“If you wish, sir, we could part from this caravan and I could take you to the places we explored. Minnakht might’ve seen something I missed and kept it to himself.” Senna spoke with a growing enthusiasm. “Who knows what we might find if we travel the path he took!”
Bak smothered a smile. He regretted that Amonmose was not close by to hear the offer-and the lure of wealth that made it sweeter. The trader’s mistrust of the guide far sur passed his own and his reaction would have been interesting to behold.
“I thought myself close to Minnakht,” Senna went on, “but
I’d not be surprised if he kept to himself whatever he found.
You’ve no idea how secretive these explorers can be when they think they’re close to finding something of value.”
The guide surely knew Bak did not entirely trust him. Was he so naive that he believed the thought of discovering gold would break down his defenses? “I think it best that we re main with User. We can explore these wadis and mountains more thoroughly on our return journey to Waset.”
Senna flung him a surprised look. “You plan to come back this way, sir?”
Bak could not be sure, but he thought he heard a touch of dismay in the nomad’s voice. “Unless I find Minnakht else where, we must. His father and Commandant Thuty would expect no less.”
“It’s clear to me,” Nebre said. “Senna wishes to separate
Lieutenant Bak from the caravan and slay him.”
“Where the lieutenant goes, we go,” Psuro said. “He knows that.”
Bak leaned back against the wall of rock behind him and watched the pair fill a goatskin waterbag, pouring water from a large pottery jar. “I must admit I was tempted to go with him, if for no other reason than to learn if he’s as innocent as he claims.”
“You wouldn’t, sir!” Psuro said, horrified.
“Not without taking precautions, no, but it might be worth the risk. If we knew for a fact that he wishes me dead, we could in all good conscience force the truth from him about
Minnakht. As for the men who’ve been slain since we set out from Kaine, he couldn’t have taken either life, but I’d not be surprised to learn that he knows who did.”
“Do you think, as you did before, that one of the men with
User slew them?”
“I’m not sure what to think. The absence of all other foot prints at the first well pointed to one of them; the footprint in the gorge indicated that an intruder slew Dedu.”
“The watching man.”
“So it would seem.”
The two Medjays stood with Bak in a broad wedge of shade cast by the almost vertical wadi wall. Three half-asleep donkeys shared the space with them, while their remaining animals and those in User’s string stood or lay in the shade at the base of the wall farther south. The explorer and his party lay slightly apart from their animals, sleeping. Minmose, as signed to keep watch, sat with Senna beneath an overhanging rock across the wadi, playing throwsticks. The vantage point was not good, but offered the only shade large enough for two men.
A hot breeze blew sporadically up the wadi, rippling the surface of puddles that had not yet dried, offering no relief from the midday heat. Water trickled through the rocks in the bed of the deeper channel, flowing down the center of the watercourse. Brown sparrow-like birds flew among the branches of four acacia trees that grew on the edge of the channel, catching flying insects, while grayish finches hopped across the sand among roots laid bare by the raging floodwaters, seeking grubs or seeds washed to the surface.
Their bright voices carried through the still air.
Psuro plugged the waterbag and set it aside. “Minnakht was experienced in the ways of this vile desert and he was beloved by the nomads who dwell here.” He picked up an other bag and held it out so Nebre could fill it. “Of equal im port, he had a good life in the land of Kemet, a life of ease and luxury. Would a man whose days were filled with advan tage choose to disappear?”
“Unlikely,” Nebre said.
“If he didn’t trust Senna any more than we do, he might’ve gone off on his own,” Bak pointed out for argument’s sake.
“Would he not have gone to his nomad friends?” Psuro asked.
“Nefertem claimed he wants to know as much as I what happened to Minnakht.” A large brown lizard darted down the cliff face, drawing Bak’s glance. Something above must have startled it, a bird hunting its midday meal most likely.
“He may’ve been leading my thoughts astray, but I don’t think so. I think his people have searched everywhere they know where to look. That’s why he wants us to seek Min nakht beyond the sea.”
“I suppose we must take Senna with us,” Psuro said with a notable lack of enthusiasm.
“If I can’t convince all the men in User’s party to go, I fear
I’ll lose all my suspects except him.”
A grating of stone against stone sounded above and a pat tering of rocks on the face of the cliff, pebbles skittering downward. Dirt and small stones pelted Bak’s head and shoulders, and the donkey beside him awoke with a start. The birds cheeped a warning and darted into the air.
“Someone’s above us,” Bak yelled. “Move!”
He shoved himself away from the wall and slapped the donkey on the flank, sending it and its startled brothers out into the sunlight. Psuro tore the goatskin bag away from the stream of water and ran. Nebre raised the neck of the jar, sav ing the rest of the precious liquid, and raced out of the shade with Bak and the donkeys.
A huge granite boulder came crashing down from above, bringing smaller stones with it. It struck the ground with a solid thud, smashing a water jar leaning against the wall within a hand’s breadth of where Bak had stood. Smaller stones clattered down the cliff face, and quiet descended.
Bak looked at Psuro and Nebre to be sure they were unhurt and at the three donkeys, who had stopped their headlong flight near the trees. Farther to the south, men and donkeys stood in the sunlight, confused by their abrupt awakening, their burst of speed to get away from the cliff. He offered a silent prayer of thanks to the lord Amon that no one had been injured. He had only to look at the water jar to see what could have happened. Reddish shards lay at the base of the fallen boulder in a puddle of water.
“Sir!” Minmose came racing across the wadi floor. “I saw a man looking down from above. He must’ve pushed the boulder over the cliff.”
“Which way did he go?”
“North, I think.”
“Let’s go, Nebre.”
“I’ll come, too,” Psuro said.
Bak tore the half-full waterbag from Psuro’s hand, shoved it at Nebre, and scooped up the bag the men had filled earlier.
“No, Sergeant. Someone must look after the caravan while
I’m gone.” He paused over the pile of weapons, decided a bow and quiver would be less ungainly to handle than a spear and shield and armed himself.
Nebre, far more talented with the bow than Bak, chose a similar weapon. “I noticed a cleft between this hill and the next, around the bend a couple hundred paces to the north.
We can climb to the top there.”
They ran down the wadi, ignoring the anxious calls of the men in User’s party, the shouted questions as to what had happened. Lizards darted out of their path and the birds wheeled around to settle on and among the acacias behind them. Rounding the bend, they glimpsed the defile and seven or eight gazelles standing close to the
