The fishermen bade them goodbye at sunrise, weighed an chor, and sailed away, driven south by a stiff wind. The ten men stood at the water’s edge, watching the vessel vanish over the horizon. From the looks on their faces, each and every man felt cast adrift, as Bak did. He prayed fervently that a ship would soon come with plenty of space on its deck, that they would not have to return to the pools where Rona and Senna had been slain.
Throughout the day they busied themselves with the small tasks of camping in the desert. User sent men out in search of additional fuel and forage. Wensu had caught considerably more fish than they needed and had left the net in the sea, thinking to keep them close and alive. They pulled the net in, let the smaller fish swim away, and killed the larger. They cleaned those they kept, gave a few to Minmose for the cook ing pot, and laid the rest out to dry. They repaired torn cloth ing and rope halters, cared for the donkeys’ hooves and medicated their sores, swam and rested. Bak looked often to ward the wadi down which they had come, but Minnakht failed to appear.
At day’s end, he leaned against a pole supporting one of the huts, watching what appeared to be an idyllic scene. They had an abundance of food and would never starve with fish so plentiful. They were getting the rest they needed. Water was the problem. In two more days, they would have to send men and donkeys back to the gorge to refill the jars.
Psuro suggested they walk along the beach. When they reached a point where no one would hear, he said, “I’m dis appointed in Minnakht, sir. I was hoping we could go home.”
“You’d think a man like him, as accustomed to the desert as he is, would take advantage of our offer to help him.” Bak did not bother to hide his irritation. “If he won’t trust the no mads, we’re his next best alternative.”
“Did he not tell you he fears User?”
“An unrealistic fear, I’m convinced. User’s been striking out at the least provocation since Dedu was slain. He’s as an gry about the guide’s death as we are that Rona’s life was taken.”
“Maybe Minnakht’s been too long alone, sir.”
Bak looked westward, where the sun, a huge fiery ball, was dropping behind the high mountains, leaving the eastern slopes in shadow while coloring the sky a brilliant red. “To morrow we must make an effort to find him, but I suspect he’s already too far away to make the journey worthwhile.”
“Do you think he’ll be safe?”
“I think he’s more capable of taking care of himself than you and I and all our Medjays together.”
Psuro threw a surprised look his way. Seldom did Bak al low such sarcasm to cross his tongue. “We shouldn’t have let him slip through our fingers, sir.”
Bak was not entirely convinced that he had made a mis take in allowing Minnakht to go his own way. The very fact that the explorer chose to remain in the desert rather than re turn to his father in Kemet revealed something about him, something that gave pause for thought.
Minmose had obtained a small bag of grain from the mas ter of Amonmose’s fishing boat. He had found a suitable stone on which to grind it and a deep pot in which to bake bread. As they had run out several days before, the yeasty smell emanating from the pot drew the men close as nothing else could. Bak was no exception. He sat down with User, who occupied a patch of sand downwind of the hearth.
The odor made Bak’s mouth water. “While in Kaine,
Amonmose heard of a man who walked into this desert about a year ago and was never seen again. You must also have heard the tale.”
User gave him a wry smile. “For many years, Lieutenant, I’ve bought donkeys and supplies in Kaine. I know everyone in the village, from the smallest baby to the oldest grandfa ther. I doubt anyone with the ability to talk failed to tell me of the missing man.”
“How long ago did you hear?”
“Six or eight months, I suppose. When he failed to return, men began to talk.”
“He was an explorer, Amonmose was led to believe.”
“Ahmose by name, yes.”
As the merchant had said, few men explored this waste land and those who did were bound to know of one another.
“You knew him?”
“I’ve heard of him, that’s all. He trod the desert far to the north, in the vicinity of the trail that connects Mennufer to the Eastern Sea.”
“What was he doing this far south, I wonder?”
The explorer pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees. “I heard a few years ago that he knew Min nakht. Perhaps he heard the rumors of gold and thought to get a share.” He frowned, shook his head. “No, that couldn’t be true. The first I heard of gold was when Minnakht failed to return to Kaine, long after Ahmose vanished.”
Minmose and Kaha lifted the pot off the fire, holding the hot vessel between two flexible sticks. Minmose pried the lid off to let the loaf cool. The smell of the fresh bread made the onlookers moan with anticipation.
“Have you decided to travel on to the mountain of turquoise?” Bak asked.
“Amonmose told the fishermen to sail south, you may’ve noticed.” User’s laugh held equal parts of cynicism and hu mor. “Any ship they meet, whether at the end of the southern trail or on the water, will most likely be sailing north. The odds are great that we’ll travel to the port that serves the mines whether we want to or not.”
“No, Lieutenant, we can’t remain. As soon as the donkeys are loaded, we must sail.” Captain Kheruef stood on the bow of the largest of the three cargo ships that had sailed into the bay an hour after daybreak, while Bak and Nebre were arm ing themselves, preparing to walk up the wadi in search of
Minnakht.
Resting his hands on the railing, the captain looked out across the water, watching a donkey struggling to get away from Kaha, who was swimming it out to the ship on which the animals would travel. “We carry plenty of food and water for ourselves, but ten extra men will strain our resources. As for the donkeys, you’re fortunate we’re transporting hay and grain for the caravan animals kept at the port.”
The three vessels, the largest in Maatkare Hatshepsut’s fleet, had been built several years earlier to sail to the distant land of Punt to trade for incense trees, exotic animals, ebony, and other luxury items. Rather than break the ships down and carry the pieces across the desert to be reassembled in Waset, as had been done with the rest of the fleet, these three had been left intact to haul men and equipment, and the turquoise and copper they mined, across the Eastern Sea. As User had guessed, they had been traveling north to the port when inter cepted by the fishing boat.
The ship on which the animals would travel had anchored as close to the shore as its broad, nearly flat bottom would al low. Often used to transport donkeys, it had been an easy matter to clear the deck of cargo so pens could be raised. A half-dozen sailors stood on the deck near the open railing where the gangplank would normally be. Their task was to lift the donkeys on board, using a sturdy wooden winch. Be neath them, Nebenkemet and two additional sailors caught the fractious donkey and slipped a sling beneath its belly. A man yelled and the donkey rose upward, kicking out and screaming in fear. Within a short time, it stood on deck as docile as it had been on the beach.
“You’ve done this before,” Bak said, appreciative of the ease with which the task was performed.
“There are few quays along the shores of this sea, Lieu tenant.”
“We’ll be gone for four hours, no more,” Bak said, contin uing a plea that had thus far fallen on deaf ears. “I wish to know if Minnakht stayed near.”
“From what you’ve told me of him, I’m more inclined to believe he’s deep in the mountains, hiding from shadows.”
Bak had had no qualms about relating his tale to the cap tain. He had thought it best to share with a man of authority the fact that Minnakht still lived. “We could-and probably should-refill the water jars at Amonmose’s fishing camp.”
“So I mean to do. We must also instruct the fishermen there to move across the sea to the port.” Kheruef watched another donkey, this one more sedate, being hoisted onto the ship. “I know you think them safe, and I’m inclined to agree, but we must warn them anyway. A short delay, but necessary, making a hasty departure from this bay even more urgent.”
