THE SPEAKING PANTHER interrupted Myt-ser'eu, as I have said. I myself was interrupted in writing of it by the scribe of my commander. We were to wait upon the sagan. I went, but brought with me the leather case in which I carry this scroll and my writing materials. Now we sit in the forecourt of his house: Qanju, Thotmaktef, Sahuset, my friend the captain, and I. I have opportunity to write. We may wait all day, the captain says, and frets, because of it. I do not fret, because I have things of importance to set down. When I have done it, I will read this.
"Great Seth speaks," Beteshu told us. His voice, which is otherwise deep but soft, stung like a whip when he said it. "Lucius the Roman has his favor. Sahuset of Miam has his favor. They are to come to his temple and remain until dawn. Hear the words of the Red God."
Sahuset bowed to the deck. "We hear, and will obey."
Bolder than I would have thought her, Myt-ser'eu whispered, "Latro loves me. What about me?"
"The Red God has not spoken concerning you," Beteshu the Panther told her. His words were black velvet, like his coat. "He saved you. Have you forgotten so soon?"
Sabra said, "He will not have to protect her from me again, Beteshu. You have my word." It was thus that I learned the speaking panther's name.
Beteshu said, "Wax is readily shaped. Shall I remain with you, Holy One?"
"If you will come at my call, that is all I ask," Sahuset told him.
"Then call when you will," Beteshu told him. Rushing waters flow no swifter than he. He sprang from our bow toward the pier. Here occurred a thing so strange that this pen of ragged reed stammers in trying to describe it. I saw him spring for the pier, a great black cat. But at the apex of his leap there was only empty moonlight.
He is an evil thing, Uraeus says. I am less sure, and know that Myt-ser'eu thinks Uraeus evil and Beteshu lovely. "To stroke him would be like stroking you," she said, and kissed me.
Must I describe him? I have no doubt he can change his shape as Sahuset has said. He is not so large as a lion but much larger than a cat. His color is the darkest black. His eyes are burning gold.
Here is all Sahuset said. "I had a familiar, Latro, who took the form of a cat. Qanju leagued with priests of this land to drive him away. I implored the Red God to send another. He did as I had asked and sent Beteshu with him. Beteshu has been a servant of Apep's. The Red God won him and gave him to me. Apep is chief of the bad xu, a terrible enemy and a dangerous friend. Beteshu is very wise, but slow to share his wisdom. At times he appears to be a man, black and taller even than I. His eyes are not changed-that is so for all shape changers, so our sacred knowledge teaches. Man or cat, he is swift to slay."
I said, "Then why do you not order him to kill this Qanju for you?"
"Because I do not wish him to die," Sahuset said, and left me. MYT-SER'EU AND I are ashore in Abu. We ate in this inn with Muslak, Neht-nefret and Thotmaktef. Myt-ser'eu says the beer is better here than in the inn in which we dined last night, and Neht-nefret that the food is better. We danced and sang and enjoyed ourselves greatly. Myt-ser'eu and I made love and slept for a time. She sleeps still. I slept much while we waited upon the sagan, Muslak said at dinner. I am not sleepy now but thirsty and restless. My head hurts. I would mix wine with the water and drink a great deal of it, but there is no wine here, only bad-smelling water from the well. I write by the first light of the sun in the garden.
The sagan was a man of Parsa with a scarred face. Qanju gave him the letter of a prince. He will give Qanju a letter from the governor to the Nubian king, and send a man with us. The man has not come, nor is the letter prepared; thus we must wait in this city.
Earlier I wrote that the panther called me Lucius the Roman. This is of great importance if it is true. I must ask Sahuset and Muslak. I asked Myt-ser'eu when we returned to the ship. She says that the river we sail empties into the Great Sea, and that Muslak sailed on that sea to bring me to her land. This land is Kemet. I asked whether all the nations of the world were named for colors, as hers is. She says there are only two, and an island named for the rose. She once knew a man from this island. I asked what other land was named for its color. It is the desert, the Red Land. The Red God, she says, is god of that land. She is afraid of him, and she should be. There is no water in the desert and nothing grows there. It is a land of dust and stones, of sun and wind. I do not know when I was there, yet feel I have been there-and suffered there as well.
This is not so strange as Beteshu the Panther, but it is strange nonetheless, and I should set it down. The landlord lit our way to the chamber we had rented for the night, and left the lamp with us when he bid us good night. (This is the custom.) Myt-ser'eu blew out the lamp before taking off her gown. Later, when I woke, it seemed to me our lamp had been of silver, formed like a dove. I thought it strange that an innkeeper should leave such a valuable lamp with his guests. I rose and examined it with my fingers, and at last carried it to the window to see by moonlight. It was a common lamp of clay. Anyone may buy a score of such lamps in any market for a few coppers. Who visited us, bringing a silver lamp?
At dinner Thotmaktef talked of this city. "Abu is the gateway to the lawless south," he said, "the last civilized town below the first cataract."
Muslak said, "I hear there's a canal."
"There is," Thotmaktef told him, "I believe we will have to pay to use it."
Muslak nodded. "Fee for the city and hire oxen to pull the ship. Qanju will attend to all that."
Myt-ser'eu said, "I saw a woman today as black as my wig."
We had all seen black men, although I did not say so.
"All the people of Kush are as black as your wig," Thotmaktef told her, "and they rule here."
I said, "They are good bowmen-as good as the men of Parsa."
Thotmaktef nodded. "When my nation was in its glory, we enlisted mercenaries from Kush and Nysa by the thousand for that reason. Our own men are as brave as those of any nation, and we are the oldest nation and the best, but-"
Neht-nefret said, "What's this about Nysa? I thought we were going to Yam."
"We are going as far as the river will take us." Thotmaktef smiled. "And it will certainly take us deep into Nysa-my master told all of us that some time ago, and you should have listened. Of course, it may require a year to get there."
(Myt-ser'eu had been holding my hand beneath the table; I felt her grip tighten.)
"You'll drive my wife off," Muslak complained.
"If she's going to interrupt me, I would just as soon drive her off."
"He's angry because you have a river-wife and he doesn't," Neht-nefret told Muslak. "I've seen this kind of thing before."
"Then he'll be angry at Latro and me too," Myt-ser'eu said. "Are you, Thotmaktef? What harm have we done you?"
"None." Thotmaktef smiled again. "No doubt Neht-nefret's right. But I'll offer you both a morsel of good advice. You must learn to be kind, and polite, to those who have money. Suppose Latro were to cast you off because you interrupted him too often. Do you interrupt him?"
Myt-ser'eu shook her head. "Only when we're playing."
"Then you have little to fear. And of course he cannot store up such slights as Muslak can. But suppose he did. You would need another protector, and neither his soldiers nor Muslak's sailors would do. They haven't any money. My master is too old, I think. That leaves Sahuset, the Hellene, and me? Can you think of others?"
Neht-nefret began, "If you-"
Thotmaktef interrupted her. "You might try to join the women of the town, of course. That is to say you might try if we were in a town when your present protector beat you soundly and told you to go. They would stone you, wouldn't they? There are too many such women already in most towns, and too few men who want them."
Myt-ser'eu said very softly, "I would go to the temple of Hathor. So would Neht-nefret."
Thotmaktef nodded. "There may be one here. Certainly you might look. I very much doubt that there are any left south of the cataract."
A stout, middle-aged man whose curling hair is starting to gray had come in. Neht-nefret waved to him. "Join us, Noble Agathocles! There's plenty of room for you."
He brought up a stool, sitting between Neht-nefret and me. "I didn't see you over here," he told me in a new tongue. "You don't mind?"
I spoke in that of Kemet. "You're very welcome here, but you'd better talk like this or the others may think we're plotting."
"They have river-horse meat here," Neht-nefret told him. "Can you imagine? Just like our king used to eat in the old days. We never got that in the delta."
"I've never eaten it," Agathocles said.
"Neither have we, but we all ordered it. It's supposed to be delicious."
Thotmaktef said, "I hope it really is river-horse, and not pork." Looking straight at Neht-nefret he added, "Sahuset eats pork. He told me."
Myt-ser'eu said, "They eat sheep's flesh in that place downriver where the wolf-god was."
"He is Ap-uat," Thotmaktef told her, "and his city is Asyut. They do indeed. They do, but I do not. What about you, Neht-nefret?"
"Certainly not!"
"But pork, of course. You eat pork?"
She shook her head violently.
Agathocles said, "Well, I do. Or I have, back home."
"Ah!" Thotmaktef smiled again. "Sahuset and our new friend here are eliminated, I think. That leaves only me, Neht-nefret."
Muslak nodded. "You'd better be nice to him, and not interrupt. Only not too nice. You know what I mean."
"It sounds like I've stepped into the middle of something," Agathocles muttered.
"It's over now," Muslak told him.
Everyone was quiet after that until a serving girl came with more beer, and Agathocles ordered. Then Myt-ser'eu said, "Sahuset has a wife, really. Latro and I met her last night. I suppose he's forgotten by now."
I had, but had read of her here. I nodded. "Her name's Sabra."
Muslak said, "There's no such woman on my ship."
"I suppose she met us here." Myt-ser'eu looked to me for support.
I said, "She must have known we were coming to this city-no doubt Sahuset told her before he left. Couldn't she have hired a boat?"
Muslak shrugged. "Well, she's welcome to travel with us, if her husband allows it and the Noble Qanju doesn't object."
Thotmaktef said, "What about me, Captain? You're bringing a wife, and so is your friend Latro. Might I have one too?"
Muslak laughed. "Do you expect me to find you a girl?"
"No, indeed. I'll do my own finding."
"Then I don't mind if Qanju doesn't."