Max Allan Collins

'Give me a sword,' Mathayus said, 'and I will do my best to explain.'

'Bold words!' The Nubian king shifted in his wooden throne. 'Brazen boasts from one who tres­passes.'

'We do not trespass—your people brought us here.'

'Silence!' Balthazar shook a thick finger at the Akkadian. 'Our survival depends on keeping this location a secret. So you present a problem, Akka­dian—as long as you're alive, at least.'

The little thief stepped forward, tentatively. 'Par­don me, sir—just so you know, since I'm sure you mean to be fair ... I have no idea how we got here. I just wasn't paying attention, and, besides, I'm nearly blind....'

Balthazar scowled at the little man, his expression as hard as the rock walls surrounding.

The scientist now stepped forward, smiling ner­vously. 'What my awkward friend is attempting to express is our embarrassment and regret for stum­bling into your sanctum. Kind sir, if you would spare our lives, we would be perfectly delighted to forget we ever saw any of your, uh, charming little enclave. So ... if we're agreed ... we'll be on our way.'

'That,' the king said, 'is not a prospect open to you.'

And Balthazar rose, his face firmly set, as if a decision had been made....

From a corner of his eye, Mathayus noticed someone was pushing through the crowd—no, not someone: a group, perhaps half a dozen knifing through the mob, parting them rudely.

'Balthazar!' a strong female voice cried.

Queen Isis emerged—that dark regal beauty, un-derclad in leather armor; and around her were what remained of her woman warriors, fierce beauties whose numbers had dwindled since the Ur tribal council.

She stood proudly, hands on her hips, gazing up at the looming Nubian king. 'You violate your own laws, if you slaughter these visitors. You know full well this is a place of sanctuary for the enemies of Memnon.'

Balthazar, trembling with a quiet rage, said noth­ing; but his gaze remained locked with hers.

'The winds have carried the stories,' Isis said, 'of the Akkadian's brave stand against the men of Memnon.... Now, I know that there are those among us .. . yourself included, Balthazar... who have no great love for my tribe. Some men fear strong women.'

'Isis,' Balthazar said, 'you try my good na­

ture__ '

She went on, as if he had not spoken, her words more for those congregated, than for the king. 'I am not fond of the people of the western moun­tains. ...' And she gestured toward a face-painted group among the crowd. 'Yet we accept them, as we accept all of those who come here, for shelter, in this time of Memnon's atrocities ... whatever our personal feelings might be.'

Balthazar shook his head. 'The Akkadian is dif­ferent,' he said. 'He is an assassin, whose loyalty is within reach of the highest bidder.... As such, he is dangerous.'

But Isis was shaking her head, now. 'Your judg­ment on this matter is clouded....'

The Nubian king threw his head back and roared, 'It is my judgment that keeps all of you alive!'

And now Balthazar strode over to the prisoners; he planted himself before them and said, 'Take the woman and the other two away.'

The Akkadian stepped out in front of Cassandra and said, an ominous edge in his voice, 'Fair warn­ing, king—the first hand to touch her, I'm cutting off.'