the men.
Kysen was scanning the fields to the west. 'He doubled back. Three of you go north. The rest of you follow me.' He set off at an angle to the river that brought him to the bank just ahead of the injured charioteer. As he reached the bank he heard a cry, then a terrified scream and a watery thrashing. There was a great splash, and more screams as Kysen bolted toward the noise.
The screams stopped as suddenly as they had risen. Beside him Iry cried out and pointed. Not far ahead, in a fan of moonlit water, a long, dully gleaming body rolled in the water. A crocodile. And it had something in its jaws.
As Kysen reached the bank, the creature twisted and rolled again, over and over and over. A portion of its prize tore away, and the crocodile tossed a dark shape, caught it in the back of its jaws, and gulped. Kysen looked out into the river and vaguely discerned arrow-shaped patterns in the water that signaled the approach of more predators.
He, Iry, and their men waded into the water, slashing with their scimitars. One man plied a whip. The lash wrapped around a dark bulk. The crocodile slithered toward them. Kysen gave a cry and helped the man pull on the whip while they sprang for shore. Iry sliced at the water in front of the animal's jaws. It uttered a grunting bark, snapped at the blade, and then back-pedaled. Twisting its body, the creature sank beneath the surface and disappeared.
Chest heaving, sweating and bruised, Kysen helped the charioteer pull the dark mass onto the bank. Men crowded around them, then separated, making the sign against evil. Kysen stood up and looked down at the mangled body of a man. An arm had been torn off at the shoulder. Large puncture wounds dotted the chest, neck, and head.
Kysen was glad it was dark and wished the moon wasn't so bright; it highlighted bloody, wet chunks of flesh. They'd reached the crocodile before it had had time to drag the remains of its booty underwater. Any longer, and more predators would have arrived to tear the body to pieces. Still, Kysen didn't count himself lucky, for he'd wanted the spy alive and able to answer questions.
One of the charioteers was trying to light a handful of field stubble. Kysen studied the dead man, swore softly, and exchanged rueful glances with Iry. Then he heard snuffling. To a man they all spun around to behold Nento creeping toward them through the tall water plants, bawling at the same time.
'Help, help, help, help! Help?'
Kysen sighed, stooped down, and hauled Nento up by one arm. 'Shut up.'
'He just appeared, out of nothing.' Nento held his head in both hands and moaned. 'We knocked heads, and he fell off the bank into the shallows.'
'This is your fault?' Kysen asked. He jerked on Nento's arm. 'Did he say anything?'
'I've cracked my skull. Can't you see I'm bleeding? I need help. Get me a healer. Get me a physician. I'm dying.'
Knocking Nento's hands from his face, Kysen growled, 'Stop babbling or I'll throw you to that crocodile. Now tell me, did that spy say anything to you?'
'I can't remember. Ohhh, I'm bleeding.' Kysen drew back his arm as if to backhand him, and Nento rushed on. 'Say anything? Let me think, let me think. No. We cracked heads, he stumbled backward and fell into the water. There was no time.'
'Curse it.'
Kysen turned back to the charioteers around the body. Suddenly the dry stubble flared, and a guard held it close to the dead man's face.
'Lord,' Iry said. 'This is one of the men from Lord Paser's yacht.'
'Paser? You're certain?'
'Aye, lord. I remember him because he was always on lookout at the bow, and one of his eyebrows was higher than the other.' Iry glanced at the disfigured face. 'Of course, you can't see it now.'
Kysen climbed back up the bank to stand on the edge of a field. Iry followed and joined him in looking up- and downriver.
'You haven't seen Paser, have you?' Kysen asked.
'No, lord, not since we reached Baht.'
Peering in the direction of the house, Kysen said, 'If he's returned and found out about the haunted temple, we're in a bit of trouble.'
'No one has seen his yacht, lord.'
'He might have suddenly acquired a clever heart and left the yacht behind,' Kysen said. 'But at his cleverest, Paser is barely intelligent. He'll be lurking somewhere close, but not close enough for us to see him.'
His gaze met Iry's, and they said together, 'Green Palm.'
'You take the men there at once,' Kysen said. 'I'm going to the ship. We may need it if Paser has already missed his spy and decided to run.'
Having been awakened by the messenger from Kysen, Meren hurried out of the front gate of his villa. He'd just sent most of the men on duty at the house to the temple on the chance that there had been more than the one spy lurking around the valley. His features grim, he headed for the dock.
'Meren, Meren you wait right there!'
Grimacing, he turned around as his sister flew toward him. 'Not now, Idut.' He headed for the dock again, but Idut was at his side, matching her steps with his and chastising as they went.
'Do you know what a scandal you're creating?'
'It's not my fault Sennefer accidentally killed his wife. Now go away. I've business to attend.'
Idut quickened her pace when he did. 'Oh no, Meren. You're not running away this time. Why can't you see that Sennefer killed himself because of remorse at Anhai's death? Why must you keep the family and Wah like prisoners? All the intrigue at court has twisted your wits. Everyone wants to go home. Nebetta and Hepu wish to be free to mourn their son, and Wah grows more anxious with each hour that passes.'
As they neared the dock, Meren lengthened his stride, but Idut only walked faster. 'Sennefer didn't kill himself, Idut. Only you would think of such a tale, because only you, and possibly his parents, are capable of ignoring how little Sennefer cared for Anhai. He wasn't greatly disturbed because she was dead, he was disturbed because he'd been the unwitting cause.'
'Then it must have been Bentanta who poisoned him,' Idut said as they stepped onto the dock, 'but you're too delighted at having an excuse to blame Ra to admit it.'
Meren stopped suddenly and stared at his sister. 'You believe that I-' Idut wasn't looking at him. She gazed over his shoulder, her mouth falling open, and pointed.
'By the mercy of Amun, what is happening?' she asked.
Coming toward them with the current, a small freighter zig-zagged back and forth on an erratic course that threatened the early traffic on the river. Fishing boats and skiffs scattered before the careening vessel. On its deck, a bald-headed man screeched at the two men manning the oars. As he did so, he gripped the steering oar and dragged it with him as he danced across the deck in his agitation.
Meren cursed as he heard a low, steady thud accompanied by the watery slap of many oars cutting through the water. Wings of Horus rounded a bend in the river and aimed at the freighter. The steersman on the smaller craft looked over his shoulder at the sleek black vessel and screamed. He jumped and scurried back and forth in his fright, then lost his grip on the steering oar. The boat spun around, then settled sideways in the current as Wings of Horus gained on it. A sailor at the bow of Meren's craft yelled a warning. Long lines of oars lifted up out of the water.
Standing on the dock beside Meren, Idut cried out as well. 'Look, it's Paser! Paser, make way, make way!'
Paser was too busy scrambling about the deck of his freighter in terror. Kysen appeared at the bow of Wings of Horus to shout at Paser, to no avail. Meren watched in irritation as the prow of his ship smacked into the freighter amidship. There was a loud crack of wood against wood, and the sound of bodies hitting the water as men dove for their lives.
'If he's damaged my ship, I'll take payment out of his hide,' Meren said.
'What is Paser doing on a freighter?' Idut asked as they watched Kysen's men throw ropes to those in the
