Max Allan Collins

The assassin listened, and the wind carried him a familiar snort; then another....

He grinned. 'That's my camel, all right.'

'What?'

'Quiet...' And the Akkadian lifted two fingers to his lips and let go with a loud, firm, distinctive whistle.

And, a distance away, Hanna—paying the pleas and tugs of the horse thief no mind—snapped her head around, ears perking at the familiar sound-

'What... ?' Arpid shook his head. 'What is it now, you mangy ... hey!'

The camel had tugged back on those reins, and now the little thief was yanked off his feet as the camel sprinted off, heeding her master's summons.

Before long, Mathayus—who had been waiting patiently, hands on his hips—grinned wide as his beloved camel came pounding over the nearest rise. The creature was dragging something, or—some­one .. . Mathayus squinted, to see through the sand dust his camel was stirring... ah! The horse thief, Arpid, was being hauled rudely along by the reins.

The camel came to a stop at his master's side, and the Akkadian reached up and scratched the an­imal's neck.

'Good girl,' the Akkadian said. He glanced back at Cassandra. 'You see? She knows how to behave.'

The sorceress folded her arms and glowered at him, then turned her gaze away, in disgust.

In the meantime, in a pile at Mathayus's feet, Arpid had come to his own sliding stop, and was busy coughing up dust. Finally the thief was able to speak, and he smiled up at the assassin, displaying what in more civilized days would come to be de­scribed as a shit-eating grin.

'Well! God be praised....' The thief coughed. 'We were just looking for you....'

'You found me,' the Akkadian said.

Arpid climbed painfully to his feet, the assassin offering no help. As he was brushing himself off, the thief finally noticed the beautiful woman in their midst.

'Well, well,' he said. 'Who's your comely friend?'

'That's the sorcerer,' the Akkadian said flatly.

The thief's eyes widened. 'What do you mean?'

'I mean what I said: that's Memnon's sorcerer. Sorceress.' And now he turned to the woman, nod­ding toward Hanna. 'Climb on.'

With a sigh of resignation, the lovely woman stepped forward, the feminine shape of her playing wonderful tricks under the loose robes.

'Hurry up,' the Akkadian said. 'Night is com­ing.'

She allowed him to lift her up on the camel.

Arpid was staring at the woman, agape. 'Great gods ... You've stolen the warlord's sorcerer! I don't know whether to laugh or cry.'

'Choke, for all I care,' Mathayus said.

'Partner... why so cross with me?'

The Akkadian was examining his mount, check­ing to see if Hanna was all right. 'You were running off with my camel, thief.'

Brushing himself off some more, Arpid said, mildly miffed, 'If you were paying any attention at all, my friend, you'll know that your camel was run-ning off with me.'

Mathayus swung up into the saddle, behind the sorceress; the nomadic affair was large enough to accommodate them both, if snugly.