Soldier of Sidon, page 17
Neht-nefret said, “Are you offering to share with us? How much?”
Agathocles shook his head. “I am not. I mean to earn it and keep it, but I see the prospect of a richer reward. Most would go to the Noble Qanju, no doubt. That will still leave a great deal for the rest of us. I will claim my share, and not begrudge others who claim theirs. Long ago, the pharaohs had gold mines in the desert west of the Great River. Everyone knows where they were, and many who have traveled to this land have seen them. They had other mines in the east, mines farther from the river. Who has seen those?”
Kha said, “I've heard of them—rumors, at least. They're said to be exhausted as well.”
“Said by whom?”
Kha shrugged. “That was what I was told.”
Sahuset said, “King Siaspiqa shows exhausted mines—mines near the river—to those who ask about mines. No one in Wawat speaks of those to the east. It is dangerous to do so.”
“I do not fear King Siaspiqa,” Alala whispered, “but my husband. I will not speak of these things without his permission.”
More was said, but nothing of importance until Thotmaktef returned and the matter was explained to him. “Her husband,” he said, “stands in awe of the Noble Qanju.”
Qanju nodded and smiled, saying, “Ask your wife to tell us,” and Thotmaktef did.
“There are places where the warriors of the Nehasyu will not let us graze,” Alala said softly. “They are in the rocks. There is little grass there, thus we do not go to war over it. The same warriors buy our cattle.” She shrugged.
“Are these the mines?” Kha asked.
She shrugged again. “I do not know what they are, only that there is a temple in one such place. We have other temples, but we cannot offer our bulls at that one. Because we could not, my father was angry and urged our warriors to fight.”
“And … ?” Qanju smiled encouragingly.
“He was sent north, to Kemet, lest there be war.”
“This is worth knowing,” Agathocles declared.
Qanju nodded. “Do you know where these places are, Alala?”
She touched the arm of her husband, who encouraged her to speak.
“I do not know,” she whispered. Her voice is scarcely louder than a breath. “I was born in Abu, but the older men among the warriors of my people will surely know. So will our priests.”
Agathocles said, “While you went slowly up the canal, I went swiftly to Miam and spoke with men with whom I trade. They sent me to other men.” He held out his right hand and rubbed its palm with the fingers of the other. “I persuaded them to tell me what they knew, and I found it interesting indeed. I have shared it with the Noble Qanju and Holy Sahuset. At the Noble Qanju's urging, I'm prepared to share it with you as well. I ask no oaths but believe you'll soon see that what I say should go no further.” He paused, and waited for someone else to speak.
At length Sahuset said, “It would not go this far, if my advice had been taken.”
Qanju shook his head. “I will not justify your presence. You may do it yourself, if you like. To whom do you object?”
“All of them!”
“Then I will answer all your objections,” Qanju said. “We have ample time for it. Do you believe Agathocles will keep his information from the Noble Charthi?”
Agathocles said, “I will not. I am here on his behalf.”
“Nor would I keep it from the satrap,” Qanju told him, “for the same reason. I have his trust and will not abuse it. Suppose that I were to act in a way Muslak found irrational and inexplicable. Would he conceal my acts, if the satrap questioned him?”
Muslak shook his head.
“He would not,” Qanju continued, “knowing that the satrap would learn of them from others and punish him, as would be only just. Lucius leads our fighting men. He would obey my orders without explanation. I know that. But he can obey with intelligence only when he understands my reasons for giving them.”
Qanju paused, smiling upon us. “You object to everyone save me, Sahuset, and thus to the sagan Kha. He represents the governor of Abu, and has come with us to help us, for the governor obeys the satrap. What reception might we have on our return to Abu if we acted now without informing him? What report might the governor send the satrap?”
Sahuset did not reply.
“Holy Thotmaktef is like a son to me. We share all confidences. Should I die or fall ill, he will act as a good son should, leading in my stead. Am I to keep this from him when I have kept nothing else from him? His wife is of the Medjay and may be of the greatest service to us—but only if she understands what it is we do and why we do it. She wished Neht-nefret present, since the customs of her people require that a married woman alone among men may not speak unless her husband is present. I know Neht-nefret is clever, and our captain declares her a woman of discretion. Whom would you have me send away, Sahuset?”
“I know the tongue,” Sahuset said.
Qanju nodded. “So you do, but let us reach the point. Agathocles?”
“My contacts say that gold is coming from a mine in the east. Not much, they say, but some. They also say that a tall young man of Kemet is a slave there, and is being forced to work at the mine. They did not know his name. No one I spoke with has ever spoken to him.”
I said, “The man who sent you to find his son must have given you a way to know him when you saw him.”
“He didn't have to. I had seen him several times before he left home.”
“You'd know him?”
Agathocles nodded. “Unless he's changed a great deal, I would. Besides, I could question him about his father's house, the names of servants and so forth. I know several of them because they've been sent to buy wine from me. He grew up in that house and must know them all.” He spread his hands. “It's as plain as day, isn't it? His father sent him to look for the mines and find out if there was still gold to be had. He came as far as Miam and learned where they were. After that, he probably hired someone to guide him there. He was caught.”
Neht-nefret said, “They'd kill him, wouldn't they? I would have.”
Qanju shook his head. “You are a clever young woman, but you have much to learn. He is the son of an influential foreigner. Such a son is a sword in the hand of whoever holds him.”
“Exactly.” Agathocles chuckled. “If they kill him, they lose him, and if they bring him to Miam or Meröe, he'll talk about the mines to people who didn't know before. So they keep him at a mine. Let him talk. Everyone he talks to there knows already, and he can do some work.”
“They will keep us there as well,” Sahuset said, “if we go there as he did. They may arrest us and take us there if they so much as find out we're looking for them. Agathocles told you we were in agreement. That is one of the things we agree on.”
“The satrap,” Qanju said smoothly, “has sent us that he may learn of the south. We are interested in these mines because they are in the south and thus bear upon our mission.
“Kha, I will have my scribe draft a letter to the satrap, telling him what we have learned thus far, perhaps with some indication of what I plan to do. I will sign and seal it. My scribe will draft another to the governor at Abu. It will say only that he is to take the letter from the bearer and forward it to the satrap. Will you be the bearer? You may, if you wish.”
Kha shook his head. “That was not my errand. I will remain with you, Most Noble Qanju, if you will permit it.”
“I will, of course. Captain, will you send a reliable man? He need go no farther than Abu, and can rejoin us when he has delivered my letters to the governor.”
Muslak nodded. “There's a small boat in our stores. Can I use that?”
“Of course.”
“Then he'll get through the canal a lot faster than we did—the current will be with him. I'll send Azibaal. He's completely reliable.”
“Good. Send him to me this evening. Both letters should be ready by then.”
Qanju smiled as before. “Now I have a problem to lay before you. I will ask everyone's advice, beginning with the youngest. One must do that, I find, if one's younger counselors are not to repeat their elders' wisdom.”
He spoke to Alala. “My dear, you are youngest, or so I judge. Here is my problem. A young man of Kemet, one Kames, is said to be held here as a slave, though he is none. He is a subject of the Great King's, and because he is, it is my duty to free him if I can. You are my counselor. How am I to do it?”
Alala spoke so softly we had to lean toward her to hear. “I don't understand. If the mines yield only a little gold, and people willing to tell this man,” she gestured toward Agathocles, “know of it already, why does King Siaspiqa bind this Kames?”
Agathocles said, “Surely that's clear. They yield more than a little, and Kames learned of it.”
Qanju said, “This Hellene may speak truly, my dear. It may also be that the king is jealous of what gold they yield, though it is but small. Or that he has little use for spies, or some other reason. We cannot know, and so I wish to speak with Kames. And to free him, as I said. How am I to accomplish that end, do you think?”
“By the help of my people, the Lion People,” Alala said promptly. “They take the Great King's gold to fight for him and to guard the northern land. They will take it again, overwhelm King Siaspiqa's men, and free this Kames for you.”
“It is certainly worth considering,” Qanju said, “and I will consider it.”
He turned to Neht-nefret. “My dear, you are youngest after the wife of my scribe, I believe. May I have your thoughts?”
Neht-nefret shrugged. “If you wish them. I've never been chary of advice. I don't think we know enough now to come up with a good plan. If I were you, I'd find a handsome young woman and have her get close to the man in charge of one of these mines. She'd soon find out a thousand things you need to know, if she were the right woman for the job. She might even be able to free this Kames herself.” Neht-nefret paused and licked her lips. “She'd expect to be well rewarded for what she did. I'm sure you understand.”
Qanju nodded, still smiling. “She might say that she had escaped from the Medjay, who had stolen her in the north. Exhausted, she would come limping out of the desert.”
Neht-nefret nodded. “I like it. It's simple, and it might work.”
“I shall consider it. The Holy Thotmaktef is next, I would say.”
“They write here as we do,” Thotmaktef said, “having learned the art from us. They'll have a scribe at every mine to write reports and keep track of the gold they gain and the supplies they need—for those purposes, and a hundred others. He won't be there all the time, or I would think not. When he's not there, he'll go to the temple of Thoth in whatever city he reaches. I'd like to talk to the priests in all of them, as we go up the river. This Kames is the son of a rich man. He'll have been well taught in the House of Life in Wast. They won't set him to carrying baskets of rock, not unless they're complete fools.”
Qanju nodded. “He may be helping one of their scribes, as you say. Such a scribe may know of him even if he is not. Go to Thoth's temples, as you suggest, and learn all you can. Lucius?”
“You have two problems,” I said. “First, you must learn where Kames is. Second, you must free him. They will not sell him for gold. If they were willing to do that they would demand it from his father, who has it and wants him more than anyone.”
Agathocles nodded. “That's obvious.”
“Thus we must take him by stealth or by force. Have the Medjay good horses?”
Qanju nodded to Alala.
“Yes,” she said. “The best. The people of the north buy them to pull their chariots, but our men sit on their backs. My mother has done that also.”
I said, “Would you like to learn?”
Alala nodded.
“I have three soldiers of Parsa. They are all good riders, or say they are. I've listened to them talk, and they talk much of horses and bows. You have relatives among the Medjay. Do you know their names?”
Alala nodded again.
“You wish to visit them and to introduce your husband to them. The Noble Qanju, who treats your husband as his son, may send him and you to them, with the soldiers of Parsa and me to protect you. They may know where Kames is, and if they do not they will surely know where he might be. Your husband will have gold for them, and smooth words. If many take the Great King's gold to guard Kemet, they cannot be hostile to Kemet or the Great King—no man pays those who hate him to guard him.”
Qanju nodded and smiled. “Wisely spoken. You would go into the eastern desert as you say? You, Thotmaktef and his wife, and three soldiers? Only six in all?”
I shook my head. “Seven. I'll need to speak with this Medjay woman often. Myt-ser'eu must go with us so there will be a second woman.”
Now she wishes to ask more questions. I will write here again soon.
WE BOUGHT HORSES today. The soldiers from Parsa were our advisors concerning their horses and our own; they are very happy now. Agathocles and Thotmaktef struck the bargains for us. If all goes well, Thotmaktef will sell these horses when we return to the ship and recover most of the money we spent.
Myt-ser'eu wanted my slave to come with us. So did he. Thotmaktef objected, saying truly that he had been given gold by Qanju for seven horses, not eight. Myt-ser'eu wanted me to buy a horse for the slave, whose name is Uraeus. I would not. She said, “If he had a horse—not bought with Qanju's gold—will you let him come?”
I saw no reason not to. Someone to serve us will save us work and time. Most significantly, a slave to serve us will maintain my standing with my men, which is always important. I urged this to Thotmaktef, saying Uraeus would serve him and his wife as well. He was persuaded.
Having no carts and no pack horses, we cannot carry much. Weapons, and a few clothes. Myt-ser'eu is bringing her jewelry, fearing it will be stolen if she leaves it on the Gades. No doubt she is right, though Neht-nefret might watch it for her. For me—two pairs of sandals, a spare tunic, Falcata, the leather case that carries this scroll, and two blankets. I have bought boots. I could not find the kind I wanted—the kind that seems proper to me for a horseman. These are near it, however. I will wear them tomorrow.
We have seen Medjay on horseback, and Alala has spoken with them, while Myt-ser'eu, Agathocles, and Thotmaktef stood by. Their feet were bare. They carried spears and knives, and were mounted on horses I envied. Alala says they would not speak much concerning the mines, but they have pointed the way to her father's clan.
25
HOW LOVELY THIS IS!
WE ARE CAMPED among stones, sand, and grass, under the stars. We rode throughout a long day. When we made camp here, I did not know how I came to be here or who the others were. My wife had me read this. I have read, but found only confusion. I set down what I have learned from my wife, our servant, and the priest.
My bowmen are Baginu, Vayu, and Kakia. They are to obey me, and do. (I have tested this.)
The priest, Holy Thotmaktef, is our commander. I obey him. My servant says our commander often asks my advice. The tall young woman is Alala, our commander's wife.
My own wife is also young. I like both women, but like my own best. She sits close by, although she says she cannot read what I write. Our servant is the oldest man here and may be the wisest, too. He wears a hat like mine. My soldiers wear caps. The women cover their heads with shawls against the sun. I have a hat of striped cloth, like a bag without a bottom. The priest's head is shaved. He held a shade above it when the sun was high.
I wear a beetle of gold and enamel about my neck. Our servant says I must not take it off. Who would steal it here? Not he, or he would not warn me. The priest, who has already a bag of gold? His eyes say he does not steal. Kakia, perhaps. I must watch him.
The priest calls this desert the Red Land. He marvels to find it green in many places. I think it beautiful, though too dry for wheat or barley. With a pack of hounds and a few good horses, one might hunt here for years. There are high hills of broken rock, boulders, and—
A LION ROARED, not far off. It frightened our horses and the two women. I have set a watch, each to stand for a quarter of the night, taking the first myself. I to moonrise, Baginu until the moon is high, Vayu until it is behind the hills, and Kakia to sunup. Tomorrow each is to watch earlier, Baginu taking the first and I the last. If a horse breaks its tether, our sentry is to wake me.
We camped here at my urging because there is water, though not much. We have dug a little pool for our use, and another, catching the overflow from the first, for our horses. Both overflow now, but the water is soon lost in the sand of the dry watercourse. My servant found pictures on a rock. They are old, I would say, but sheltered by an overhang so that they have not weathered. The priest's wife said her people made them, and that defacing them offends the gods. I would not have defaced them anyway. Men cast their spears at a beast with a long nose and long fangs. If there are really such beasts in this land, I would like to see one.
I found another place and scratched my name there: latro. Also a picture of our camp: the fire, the people, and our horses. We are six men and two women. My wife sang and played for us. Now she sleeps, but the chill wind sings for me still, and the stars look down.
WE ARE SEVEN men and two women—no longer as I wrote. What happened this morning was—
I WILL WRITE and let the others talk. I listen to them, but write still. Myt-ser'eu says I forget what I do not write, and I feel she speaks truly.
When I woke I found I had slept with my head cradled in the hands of a black warrior who wore a plumed headdress. “You were not among us when I slept,” I said. “Did Baginu welcome you to our camp?”
He laughed. I think I liked him already, but his laugh made me like him more, as I still do. It is rich and warm, a laugh that makes me want to laugh with him. “I go wherever I please,” he told me, “and creep under the door.”
“Then I must welcome you. We come in peace. Are these your hunting grounds?”
