Bak stood off to the side of a rough track left on the wadi floor by what had to be hundreds of goats or sheep, mostly the former since they could survive the heat and harsh graz ing easier than could the latter. He had tried to find signs of the nomad family after passing the place where they had been camped, but the sand had been so stirred up by the many sharp hooves that nothing remained but soft grainy un dulations. The few clear tracks he found, those of animals that had wandered away from the path, could have been left in the early hours of the morning-or they could have been made a year or more ago. He suspected they and the mingled tracks on the path had been left by all who had come this way since the last water had flowed down from the mountains.
Two years ago, so Senna said.
Nebre and Kaha had found footprints around dead bushes and a dying acacia where children had gathered wood, but they did not match those of the girls who had watered their goats at the well. He did not suspect their mother of slaying the dead man, but he had an idea that she or her children might know something of his death. Why else would they flee in the dead of night?
Resigned to the fact that they had evaded him, he sent Ne bre and Kaha to scout out the surrounding landscape. He re mained where he was, standing beneath the burning sun, waiting for the caravan to catch up. As he raised his waterbag to drink, sweat slid down his spine beneath his tunic, tickling him. The day promised to be as hot as any he had ever en dured at Buhen.
Senna was the first man to draw near. He walked at the head of the caravan, probing the sand with his long staff.
With luck, any lurking vipers would reveal themselves and slither away. A half-dozen paces back, Rona and Minmose led their string of seven donkeys.
“Are we making good time?” Bak asked the guide.
Senna ventured a wry smile. “User can make no complaint that we’re slowing his caravan.”
“Excellent. We’re not pushing too hard, are we?”
“Like you, sir, I wish to reach the Eastern Sea with every man and animal safe and well.”
Bak clapped the guide on the shoulder and walked back to
Minmose and Rona. After assuring himself that all was well with them and the laden donkeys plodding along in their wake, he let them walk on ahead. The outliers of the lime stone mound to the south were closing in, narrowing the view. He took a final look at the high escarpment that van ished in a bluish haze far to the southwest, following the course of the river that gave life to the land of Kemet. He bade a silent goodbye to the land he could no longer see, tamped down a touch of homesickness, and turned his thoughts to his quest for Minnakht.
About thirty paces behind the last animal, he fell in beside
User, walking with Dedu at the head of his string of donkeys.
The nomad murmured an excuse and slipped away.
“What are you doing out here, Lieutenant?” User asked.
“Crossing the Eastern Desert, as you are.”
“Don’t give me that!” the explorer scoffed. “You and your men are like birds with broken wings, creatures out of your element. You know nothing of this land except what you’ve been told. Worse yet, you’ve placed yourselves in the hands of a man you don’t know, one whose integrity may not be all it should be.”
Bak resented being thought an innocent, but kept his tone level, untroubled. “You underestimate us, User. My men and
I know exactly what we face. A cruel and waterless land scape, where the slightest accident can disable a man to a point where he can die. Where an unseen viper can leap out of the sand and doom a man to a most painful death. Where a much needed spring or well that men have depended on for years may turn up dry. Where…”
The explorer raised a hand to silence him. “I don’t ques tion your knowledge, Lieutenant. You look to be a man who absorbs information like a drunkard soaks up beer. What I question is your lack of experience and your judgment.”
This time, Bak let his irritation show. “We’ve entered this desert, thinking to find Minnakht. And make no mistake: we will find him alive or dead.”
An incredulous laugh burst from User’s lips. “How were you drawn into that?”
“Commander Inebny, Minnakht’s father, knows my com mandant.” Bak’s eyes flashed anger. He could find no humor in the task. “I was sent out to find the missing man and here we are.”
“You’re obeying an order,” User said, surprising him with a sympathetic look. “That accounts for your presence, but it doesn’t explain your willingness to trust Senna.”
“Let’s just say that Minnakht’s father left him with far less choice than my commandant left me.” Bak eyed the explorer, measuring him. “What of you? What are you doing out here?”
Recognizing his own question thrown back at him, User smiled. “When Minnakht failed to return to Kaine, rumors be gan to fly, hinting that he’d found something of worth. Gold, they were saying, but they could’ve meant anything of value.
Silver, copper, some kind of beautiful and unusual stone.” He shrugged. “Who knows? Anyway, I thought to take a look. To see if I could find what he’d found. If anything.”
So User had also heard the rumor, Bak thought, and had believed it credible enough to follow Minnakht into the desert. Was the tale no more than hopeful thinking, as Senna had indicated, or had User’s years of exploring the desert given him a greater insight? Could the young explorer have spotted something of value that he wished to keep secret?
Could that be the reason he had left Senna behind? “You thought to ease your search by following in his tracks.”
“All the world knows he’s confined his interest to a slab of desert between the southern caravan route and the high mountains, between the wadi we traveled up yesterday and the Eastern Sea. This path we’re taking runs diagonally be tween the southwestern limit of his range and the northeast ern limit.”
Bak could not fault User’s logic. It followed his own.
“Why bring along Wensu and Ani? They seem unlikely trav eling companions to a man bent on searching for treasure.”
“Treasure! I should be so fortunate.” User laughed, at him self this time. “They’d both met Minnakht at one time or an other-I don’t know where or when. Nor do I know what promises he made, if any. All I know is that they assumed he’d take them on his next expedition. Then he turned up missing. They heard of me and asked to come along.”
“I’m surprised you agreed.”
User’s expression clouded. “My wife is ailing, has been for a long time. Physicians are costly. They were both willing to pay a fair sum.”
The man’s pain was obvious and Bak preferred not to probe an open wound. “How well do you know Minnakht?”
“I’ve seldom crossed his path. Other than a knowledge of the Eastern Desert, we’ve had no reason to seek each other’s company. He’s younger than I am, the son of wealth. I grew
to manhood in Gebtu, my father a drover. I first crossed this desert at the age of thirteen, leading a string of donkeys in a caravan transporting turquoise and copper along the southern trail. He came in search of adventure.”
A sensitive subject, Bak could see. “He gets along well with the nomads, I’ve been told.”
“They’re as brothers to him and this desert is his home.”
User scowled, grudgingly admitted, “He grew to love it as I do, and since he’s learned the tongue of the nomads, he knows its ways better. That’s why his disappearance is so mystifying, why many blame Senna.”
“His father said he’s never found anything of value, but here you are, retracing his path on the strength of a rumor.”
“Minnakht knows minerals and stones.” User glanced across the sloping banks of the main flow of the wadi to scan the gray limestone ridges on either side. “He’s wrong if he believes he’ll find gold this far north. The only gold-bearing quartz I’ve come upon that wasn’t long ago exhausted has been some distance to the south. But these desert mountains are full of other valuable minerals and stones. The trick is to find rock of sufficient quality in a quantity worth mining.
“For example…” He picked up several small black and gray chunks of rock and held them out so Bak could see.
Their facets glittered in the bright sunlight. “These are gran ite washed down from the mountains of the central range.
The stone’s beautiful and of value to sculptors, but with so much fine granite available at Abu, where it need be dragged but a short distance for transport downriver, this is worth nothing.”
“Where might Minnakht have vanished?”
User dropped the stones and brushed his hands together to wipe away the dust. “He could be anywhere. Look at the land around you. What you see is barren and rough, but blessed by the gods when compared to the land through which we’ll pass in the next few days. The deeper one travels into this desert, the wilder and more forbidding the land becomes. I myself have journeyed into innumerable places where no man had ever trod before me.”
Bak eyed the barren wadi up which they were trudging and the craggy stone ramparts fading into the haze ahead. How could he hope to find one man in so vast and rugged a land?
Bak stepped off to the side of the track to wait for Wensu to come even with him. The portion of the wadi they had traveled thus far was broad and straight, a long slope drop ping down to the well where they had spent the night. As if solely to provide a background, the escarpment beyond the well, partially cloaked in a pinkish haze, rose as a series of high, steep steps in shades of gray from dark to light.
User had given him much to think about. If he was to be believed, he had not come into the desert in search of great wealth, yet he must have planned this journey as soon as he heard of Minnakht’s disappearance and rumors of gold.
Could anything less than riches have drawn him from a sick wife for whom he clearly cared? A passing donkey brayed, as if jeering at his puzzlement.
“Lieutenant Bak.” Wensu raised a scornful eyebrow. “I thought you were firmly ensconced at the head of this cara van, free of the soft sand that marks this trail.”
Bak fell in beside the young man, who walked alone in front of the drover leading User’s string of donkeys and about twenty paces behind the explorer. Each time his right foot led the left, he tapped the leg with his fly whisk, betray ing an impatience with the monotony. “Commander Inebny,
Minnakht’s father, requested that I search for his son. I need your help.”
“Me? Help you?” Wensu asked, immediately on the de fense. “I know nothing of his disappearance.”
“How did you come to know him?” Bak pretended not to notice the adolescent break in the youth’s voice. Was he younger than the eighteen years he had initially believed him to be?
“How can I be sure his father sent you?”
Bak made his laugh as cynical as he could. “Why else would I come into this godforsaken land?”
Wensu flushed. “You might’ve come for the gold Min nakht found.”
This spoiled young man, it seemed, had also heard the ru mors. “I’m here solely because Commander Inebny and my commandant have known each other for years and are as close as brothers. If not for that, I’d be taking a long, soothing swim in the river at this very moment.” A movement caught
Bak’s eye far up the wadi, the golden-tan coat of a gazelle.
The graceful creature bounded out of sight as fast as it had entered his line of vision. “Tell me, how did you come to know Minnakht?”
“I met him a few months ago. In a house of pleasure in
Waset.” As memory surfaced, Wensu’s misgivings slipped away and a smile spread across his face. “He was surrounded by young women who were listening to his tales of the desert, accounts of the many wonderful and exciting adven tures he’s had. They sat as silent and still as stones, utterly enthralled.” No less absorbed in his own tale, Wensu forgot the flywhisk he carried and waved off an insect with his free hand. “As was I.”
Bak could picture the youth sitting in the shadows, awed by the more mature man, his way with words and women.
Drawn in by tales of bold and stalwart behavior, of what he interpreted as being a romantic and heroic way of life. “Did you approach him then and there?”
“Oh, no! He went off with one of the women.” Wensu flushed scarlet. “I waited outside in the lane, and when he ap peared later that night, I spoke to him.”
“And…?”
Wensu flung a distracted look Bak’s way. “I told him how much I admired him, of course. How much I’d like to be come a man of the desert as he was. An explorer. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and…” The young man looked away, bit his lip. “He told me I must wait. I must not simply gain in maturity, but I must come to hunger for the desert as a man hungers for a woman.”
Bak pressed his tunic against his chest, blotting a rivulet of sweat trickling down his breastbone. “He made no promise to take you along on a future expedition?”
“Well, no, but he did imply…” The lie faltered. “No, he made no promise.”
“Why, in the name of the lord Amon, did you travel to
Kaine, thinking he’d take you with him?”
Wensu visibly wilted beneath Bak’s incredulous gaze.
“When I told my father I wanted to become an explorer, he laughed at me.” The young man swallowed, his distress ap parent. “He’s a chief scribe, sir, a lofty and influential man who reports directly to the vizier. He wishes me to become a scribe as he is. He hopes some day that I’ll become a man of note, attaining a rank equal to or higher than his.” A bitter smile touched his lips. “He’d like to see me a vizier.”
“You came anyway,” Bak said, trying not to reveal the sympathy he felt. “You turned your back on your father’s wishes. You ignored Minnakht’s advice.”
“I couldn’t submit to a lifetime of boredom, Lieutenant!”
The response, meant to be defiant, came close to being a wail.
Bak ignored the young man’s anguish. “Wensu, you spoke earlier of the gold Minnakht found. Were you repeating something he told you or were you referring to a rumor you heard?”
“He told the women in the house of pleasure that he was looking for gold.”
“He mentioned no specific discovery?”
“Oh, no. He merely said that was his goal. To find gold or some other precious mineral or stone.” Wensu flashed a guileless smile. “When I arrived in Kaine and heard the ru mor, I assumed he’d found it.”
Wensu’s dream was no different than that of many other young men. Bak doubted, however, that one as selfish and ar rogant as he could ever learn to cope in an uninviting envi ronment like the one User had described. In fact, he could not imagine the young man sneaking away unseen from User’s campsite or creeping up to the stranger and taking his dagger without rousing him. He would have neither the patience nor the ability.
“Tomorrow, Wensu, you should turn around and return to
Kemet. It’s not too late. You can spend the night with us at the next well and go back in the morning. Within two days, you’ll be sitting in a house of pleasure in Kaine.” He did not wish to squash the young man’s pride, but he felt sure User would agree to sending one of his drovers with him to make sure he arrived safe and well. If not, he would send a Medjay.
“No.” A stubborn look descended upon Wensu’s face. “If I can discover a new source of gold or some other valuable metal or stone, I’ll attract the attention of our sovereign and my future will be assured. My father will have to accept me as I am, not as he wishes me to be.”
When Bak walked back along User’s string of donkeys,
Ani was nowhere to be found. Looking worried, the nomad bringing up the rear pointed in the direction from which they had come. There Bak spotted the craftsman, lagging far be hind the caravan.
Reassuring the drover with a nod, Bak left the softer sand trampled by the animals and, reaching firmer sand off to the side, hurried down the wadi. The caravan was slowly ap proaching the gap between the ridge to the north and the limestone mound that had lain off to their right since their trek began. The once broad, dry watercourse had begun to narrow, its walls to steepen.
Too intent to notice Bak’s approach, Ani walked slowly along the base of the northern wall, studying limestone rocks and boulders that had broken away from the hillside or the harder stones that had washed down from the distant moun tain range. He was carrying what looked like a white bag, bulging and heavy.
As Bak approached, the short, stout man picked up a small stone, examined it, and dropped it, scooped up another and studied it. A third stone brought a smile to his lips.
“What are you doing way back here?” The question was rhetorical; Bak could see what the jeweler was doing. “You shouldn’t have allowed the caravan to get so far ahead. What if something happened to you?”
Ani looked up, startled. Recognizing Bak, he greeted him with a beaming smile. “Ah, Lieutenant. I thank the gods you’ve come. Look what I’ve found.” He held out a pinkish stone for Bak to see.
“You mustn’t walk so close to the wadi wall. A viper could be hiding among the rocks.”
Paying no heed, Ani glanced around. His eyes came to rest on a flattish limestone boulder. Glistening white patches marked places where the weathered exterior had broken away when it had tumbled from above. He set what Bak had thought was a bag, actually a large, sweat-stained square of linen, on top of the boulder and spread the corners wide, re vealing dozens of rocks, none larger than a duck’s egg.
“If you have another square of linen… You do, don’t you?” Allowing Bak no time to answer, Ani bubbled on,
“You can carry these while I look for more.”
Bak gave him a stern look. “You can’t be serious.”
Ani blinked, taken aback. “I came into the desert to seek rare and beautiful stones for my workshop. Now you’re try ing to tell me I can’t take them with me?” He stiffened his spine, standing as tall as he could. “I can and I will.”
“Who’s going to carry them?”
“We’ve brought along plenty of donkeys.”
“Those donkeys are carrying water and supplies, Ani.”
The craftsman stood quite still, his face revealing one emotion after another: realization, dismay, and a reluctant acceptance. “Can I not collect a few?” he asked in a meek voice.
Bak eyed the bits of rock displayed on the linen. Most looked to his untrained eye like the granite User had showed him. “Are any of these stones exceptional?”
“They’re wonderful specimens, but…” Looking pained,
Ani shook his head. “Other than one or two, no.”
“If you’ll pick out those two, we can be on our way. We must catch up with the caravan.”
Faced with the inevitable, Ani wasted no time. With an ex pert eye, he searched through the rocks until he found three he deemed worthy of saving. Openly saddened by the sacri fice, he pulled the square of linen from beneath the rest and left them lying on the boulder. An offering to the lord Set, god of chaos and the desert.
Bak strode up the wadi at a good fast pace, grateful that
Ani had accepted reality so quickly. The much shorter man practically ran along beside him. They were a hundred or so paces behind the donkeys when Bak noticed Ani’s labored breathing and how red his face had become. He stopped, handed over his waterbag. “You should never stray far from the caravan, but lest you forget and wander away, you must always carry water with you.”
Smiling sheepishly, the jeweler drank, allowed the water to settle in his stomach, drank a second time. Bak reclaimed the bag, pulled free the dusty square of linen tucked beneath Ani’s belt, dropped the rocks into the jeweler’s hand, and trickled water on the fabric. “Wipe your face and neck.”
With a grateful smile, Ani obeyed, smearing dirt across his cheek. “I wasn’t thinking, Lieutenant. About the rocks, I mean. Minnakht assured me that there were many stones in the Eastern Desert that would enhance the jewelry I make.
He said nothing about the practicalities of transporting them.”
Bak took a drink of the tepid water. “When did you last speak with him?”
“I talked to him only the once. Eight months ago? Ten?
I’ve no concept of time.” Ani ran the damp cloth around the back of his neck. “He showed me a stone, an amazingly clear crystal. It came, he said, from this desert. It was lovely, per fection itself. He also showed me a chunk of turquoise a no mad had given him in trade. I told him I dreamed of traveling across the Eastern Sea to the mountain of turquoise, and he said that he, too, wished to see those mines.”
“Did he offer to take you with him on one of his expedi tions?”
“Not in so many words, but when I told him I dreamed of seeing the stones in their natural state, of picking and choos ing myself rather than depending upon someone else’s judg ment as to which is the best and most beautiful, he said he thought we’d make a good team. Between his understanding of this desert and my knowledge of fine jewelry and stones, we’d surely find things overlooked by other men.”
Noting that Ani’s breathing had slowed and his color had almost returned to normal, Bak signaled that they move on.
“Did he show you any stones other than the turquoise and the crystal?”
“Carnelian, jasper, milky quartz. Attractive pieces, but of less value.”
“According to his father, he left Kemet to explore this desert about nine months ago, returned in three months, and went off two months later never to return. Why didn’t you travel with him on one of those journeys?”
“I was afraid.” Ani gave Bak a sheepish look. “Yes, afraid. A thing I’m not proud of, but true.” He looked down at himself.
“Look at me. Do I have the appearance of a man accustomed to hardships? Do I have the demeanor of a brave and hardy soul?”
Bak grinned. He liked a man with no illusions about him self. “What finally brought you here?”
“Desire overcame fear.”
After Wensu’s blustering, Ani’s modest admissions were refreshing. “You must’ve been disappointed when you heard that Minnakht never returned from his latest expedition.”
“I can’t tell you how disturbed I was.” Ani looked up the wadi toward the caravan. “We can walk a bit faster if you like. I feel better now.” As if he had not interrupted the thought, he went on, “I’d spent months convincing myself I could do this, and convincing my overseer that I should.
What did I find when I reached Kaine? The man who’d urged me to come had vanished!”
“You must’ve heard the rumor that he’d found gold.”
“I’m not a man who believes all I hear, Lieutenant, but when I heard that tale, my blood ran cold.”
“You feared his life was at risk?”
“I toil in a workshop well-supplied with precious metals and stones. Even I am not immune to their value. I know from experience how quickly men’s hearts can become in flamed by dreams of wealth.”
Bak understood. True or not, the rumor had put Min nakht’s life in jeopardy. “Did you and Wensu approach User together, or did you individually propose to travel with him?”
“We were in a house of pleasure, each of us alone, trying to decide what to do. We overheard a man speak of User, calling him witless for entering the desert after Minnakht had so recently failed to return. Foolhardy they called him, to travel alone with a single nomad to keep him company-as
Minnakht had. Wensu asked where User could be found, and
I inquired as to his appearance. We realized we were both af ter the same thing: a reliable man to take us into the desert.”
Bak recalled Senna saying that User was not entirely to be trusted. “Did you inquire about his reputation?”
“Several men-merchants, drovers, men selling don keys-vouched for his integrity and his knowledge of the desert.” Ani looked at Bak, frowned. “Have you heard any thing to his discredit, Lieutenant?”
Bak shook his head. He saw no reason to worry the jew eler. User might be the untrustworthy man Senna thought him. Or Senna might be as unreliable as User believed. Then again, both could be right-or wrong. As for Ani himself, he was a child in this harsh land, one whose every footstep would be torturous to him. Bak was willing to wager a jar of the finest northern wine that this man was as innocent in thought and deed as he appeared.
“I’ll say to you what I said to Wensu. If you wish to abandon this adventure of yours and return to Kemet, it’s not too late to do so. Kaine is two days’ trek away. You can go on with us to the well, stay through the night, and turn back tomorrow.”
“No, no, no.” Ani’s face held the same stubborn look
Wensu’s had. “I’m here, Lieutenant, and here I stay.”
The caravan had come to a halt by the time Bak and Ani caught up. Leaving the craftsman with User’s party, Bak hur ried forward, seeking a reason. Not a speck of shade was to be seen anywhere. The heat of the sun, confined within the tall, steep hillsides, was merciless. This was not a place to rest.
He found, near the head of his string of donkeys, Minmose holding the halter of a stocky black animal while Rona probed a front hoof with a pair of bronze tweezers. Psuro looked on.
“She’s gone lame, sir,” the sergeant explained.
“Ah, here it is.” Rona screwed up his mouth in concentra 70
Lauren Haney tion while he manipulated the tweezers. The donkey twitched, tried to pull away. The Medjay clamped the tweez ers tight and pulled out a small stone. As he released the hoof, Minmose let go of the halter. The animal shook its head and blew, expressing its contempt for such treatment.
They’d no sooner started forward than Nebre and Kaha made their careful way down a steep cut in the rocky slope to the right and walked toward them. Perspiration poured from the men; their tunics were stained with sweat and dust. Each man carried on his shoulder a bow and quiver filled with ar rows. Kaha carried a goatskin waterbag.
“You’ve been gone a long time,” Bak said, greeting them with a smile.
“This land is endless.” Nebre pulled bow and quiver from his shoulder and handed it to Minmose. “There’s much to see. All different but alike.”
“This is truly a barren land,” Kaha said. “How the nomads find sustenance for themselves and their flocks, I’ll never know.”
“Did you see any sign of the people who were camped near the well last night?” Bak asked.
“No, sir.” Nebre slipped his tunic over his head and shook the dust from it. “They’ve disappeared without a trace. I’ve a feeling they left the wadi long ago, probably not far from the well where we spent the night.”
Sneezing, Kaha backed away from the cloud Nebre had created. “Twice we saw a man on a distant hillside. Like us, he carried a bow and quiver. He was watching this caravan.”
“At first we thought him to be a nomad shepherd, moving his flocks and family through this area. Or a man hunting ibex or gazelle.” Nebre slipped his arms through the sleeves of his tunic and pulled it down over his head. “The second time we saw him, we went to the place where last he’d been.”
“We found the print of a sandal, sir,” Kaha said. “It matched the one I saw on the hillside north of Kaine.”