Suzanne Robinson (14 page)

An old city, the streets of Thebes presented no coherent
pattern. Avenues and alleys, paths and streets appeared in haphazard fashion as the need arose. Monuments of kings huddled close with houses and shops. Anqet raced past the base of a limestone obelisk set in the middle of an intersection and into a district of taverns and inns. She finally ducked into a road that boasted less light and traffic lest her pursuers catch sight of her. Strains of music and harsh laughter chased after her, but her legs churned on, even though they were almost numb. On she ran until, turning a sharp corner, she came up against a featureless wall. There she listened for her pursuers.

She heard Merab’s angry shouts from nearby, and terror shot through her On either side of the street sheer walls loomed high. Anqet retraced her steps and peeked around the comer to find Merab lurking beside the obelisk, obviously unsure of her whereabouts. Her heart did a somersault. Count Seth cut through a group of foreigners as a scimitar cuts papyrus stalks. An Assyrian merchant in a garish red-and-yellow robe staggered down the street past Anqet. She shrank into the shadows. When she looked at the obelisk again, Seth was pointing toward the tavern district. Merab nodded and set off in that direction, away from Anqet.

Hugging the wall like a moth, she peeked at the count around the corner of her shelter He circled the obelisk, eyes roving over the dark streets lit only by a few torches outside the taverns farther down the street. Seth reached the side of the monument nearest Anqet and stopped. She edged back as the green stare focused straight at her A millennium passed while he stood there, the long fingers of one hand spread out on the stone of the obelisk, his other hand resting absently on the bronze dagger at his belt. She held completely still until Seth’s angular face turned away. He stood there as if undecided, then struck a path that would take him back to the palace.

Anqet let out her breath. She rested her forehead on the wall in front of her, rubbed her aching arm, and tried to figure out where she was, now that she had time to think. Where? Near the commercial district probably. She
had to leave the city at once. Anqet pulled her buckle amulet from beneath the neck of her dress and rubbed it.

Sennefer! She would go to his house and beg his protection. All thought of exposing the criminals must be abandoned until she was well out of their reach. She recalled that Lord Sennefer’s house was near the palace.

Anqet peered around the corner once more. The intersection was deserted except for three tipsy students who had collapsed at the foot of the obelisk. Anqet slipped out into the street and began a circuitous route that would take her to the area where Count Seth’s brother lived.

She was making progress down a quiet avenue lined with modest two-storied houses when she heard a donkey bray. The animal plodded behind her, pulling a cart and followed by a sleepy boy. Beyond him she caught a glimpse of white as someone stepped behind a high stack of baskets.

That glimpse was enough to impel Anqet down the avenue and into the nearest maze of side streets. Had they found her? She couldn’t risk it. In desperation, Anqet pushed against the door of a house with her good arm. It opened, and she stumbled across the threshold. Blackness greeted her And smells. Pine, cedar, fir, and cypress—the wood scents mingled in the air. Her hand touched a wall and felt the sharp edge of an adze. She was in a carpenter’s workshop. The owner and his family would be asleep on the second floor.

Anqet placed a hand on the door through which she’d come and eased it open a crack. Night was dissolving into the gray of morning, but she couldn’t see much of the street unless she opened the door a little wider She pushed.

A hand snaked inside the gap and grabbed her wrist. Before she could cry out, someone was inside and had clamped a hand over her mouth.

Anqet screamed into the hand that covered her mouth.

“Quiet,” Count Seth hissed into her ear “Merab is back, and he’s not far away.”

She didn’t listen. Terror gave her the wits to lay hold of the adze hanging on the wall beside her and slam it flat against Seth’s head. He saw the blow coming but wasn’t able to dodge it entirely. The tool glanced off the side of his head. He gasped and stumbled. Anqet wriggled free and dashed into the streets of Thebes again.

It seemed as if she ran for hours, although the world was still gray and cool when she finally stopped to rest. Her mouth was parched, her legs trembled, her injured arm ached, but she was free of pursuit. And lost. Over the tops of the squat hovels in front of her, Anqet could see the face of a colossal statue of a long-dead pharaoh. The double crown of Upper and Lower Egypt rose above a face of black granite. She decided to make for the statue in the hope that it was set in a square or marketplace with which she was familiar.

Anqet took several steps. Count Seth swooped at her, but she crouched, spun around, and fled down an alley. She went five steps and felt her foot sink into mush. Another step. Her other foot stuck fast in something equally slimy. Anqet tottered, arms flailing, knees shaking, and fell on her hands and knees. Pain shot up her bad arm. Mud squirted up onto her face and chest. Through a screen of brown ooze, she saw that she had tripped on the first of a double row of molds that held mud brick set out
to dry. A homeowner was making repairs to his house, and she had failed to see the trap.

A masculine chuckle startled her, and she collided into hard brown arms. She pushed, scratched, bit, and kicked, heaving the count backward into the shallow mud pit.

Anqet hit the basin of slime with Seth’s arms wrapped around her Covered in mud, their bodies slithered against each other Seth held her fast to his body and let her fight him until she had no strength. When Anqet lay pressed to him, gasping for breath and quivering with fear, he gave another quiet laugh and spoke to her.

“Come, little mud-beetle. I’m enjoying this contest, but we must end it.”

Anqet stared up into the count’s smudged face. The dark mud made his eyes an almost iridescent green. He smiled at her and ran his hand along her grimy cheek, down her throat. Anqet closed her eyes and waited for those strong fingers to close about her neck and choke her to death. Instead, the hand moved across her shoulder and down her arm in a gentle caress. Seth’s weight pressed on her for a moment. Anqet’s eyes popped open at the feel of his hips and legs against her own. As suddenly as he had pressed against her, he pulled away and brought Anqet to her feet. He imprisoned her wrist in an unbreakable grip and set off, dragging her behind him.

Fevered thoughts swam through Anqet’s head. Why hadn’t he killed her? Maybe he wanted to do it where he could get rid of her body quickly. Maybe he was going to let Merab do it. Anqet prepared to scream, drawing air into her lungs, but Seth masked the lower part of her face with his hand and whispered to her.

“If you try to scream, I’ll have to hit you. Please believe me when I tell you that I will do that, much as the idea repels me.”

Anqet nodded. Seth shifted his grip to her arm. This time he walked with her at his side, an arm around her waist. Anqet saw that he was heading for an area of town inhabited by some of the most skilled artisans in Thebes.
They were walking down Udjet Road. The citizens of Thebes went about their morning business. Anqet could smell bread baking in outdoor ovens and hear the long, raucous bray of a donkey as it ascended the musical scale. Three young boys trotted by on their way to scribal school, palettes containing writing pigments clutched in their hands. Two city police with bronze-tipped spears strolled past and glanced at them curiously, but Seth’s face was well known to them. They did not question Pharaoh’s commander of chariots.

They entered a crossroads between Udjet Road and Painter’s Row. Seth stopped, swore, and pushed Anqet backward, behind the column of a porch. Seth pressed her between his own body and the column. His lips brushed her ear.

“If you would keep your ka attached to that magnificent body, be silent.”

Anqet tried to look up at the count, but he pointed at something in the street. She followed his gesture and saw a gang of men trotting down the road. In their lead jogged the blockish, sturdy form of Lord Merab. Anqet’s skin crawled at the sight of these men. Armed with spears, curved swords at their sides, they bore a collection of scars that marked them as mercenaries or hired thugs who earned their living by violence.

“You have a choice, singer,” Seth said. “Me or them. Life or certain death.”

The meaning of Seth’s words and actions finally penetrated Anqet’s understanding. She tilted her head up to look into her captor’s exotic face and encountered amusement.

“You aren’t going to kill me?” she asked.

A frown pulled at the corners of Seth’s mouth. “Kill you? You thought I was—I see. No, I have other plans for you, my over-curious singer And I do hope that inquisitiveness is the reason for your presence at the storehouse. Merab is gone. Come.”

They negotiated Udjet Road without interruption.
Seth knocked on the door of a house on a corner They were admitted by the owner.

“Kakemour,” Seth said. “I seek refuge, old friend.”

Kakemour took in Seth’s mud-covered body and Anqet’s silent presence without a murmur “Of course, my lord. I am your humble cupbearer.”

“Your ka will never become as light as the feather of truth if you keep calling yourself humble, Kakemour” Seth pulled Anqet forward. “My new slave has led me on an unexpected hunt. I’m not used to dealing with runaways.”

“Runaway!” Anqet pulled away from Seth. “You dare call me slave? You criminal. You hunt me down for your own vile purposes and think to make me your slave.”

Seth clamped a hand over her mouth and held her effortlessly while she fought. He resumed his conversation with Kakemour as though she had said nothing.

“As you can see, we’ll need to bathe. I must send for Lord Dega and make certain arrangements.” Seth lifted Anqet off her feet as she kicked at him. “And I would be grateful if your wife would look after my slave. Ouch! She is new and unused to a master. She needs discipline, but she’s worth the trouble.”

Kakemour gave Anqet a dubious look. “As you wish, my lord. Any service I can do will be little enough repayment for what you’ve done.”

“My thanks,” Seth said. “If you will lead the way, I’d like to deposit my dirty treasure in a secure place.”

Hours later, Anqet sat on a flat stone in the courtyard behind Kakemour’s house watching the man’s wife supervise the day’s baking. Bathed and wearing one of the woman’s old dresses, she was tired and anxious. That Seth didn’t intend to kill her had only partially alleviated her terror. There was no telling what that man might do to her. He seemed to know exactly what she was thinking and anticipated every attempt she made to escape. He was too clever She realized now how he had managed to imprison her without having to tie her.

No one listened to slaves. No one trusted them to tell the truth when they were obviously runaways. She had
tried to appeal to Kakemour’s wife, but the woman paid her no heed. She clicked her tongue at Anqet and scolded her for being disloyal to such a kind and honorable master as Count Seth. The woman hadn’t let Anqet out of her sight since she had arrived.

Seth had disappeared into Kakemour’s apartment. There had been visits to the house by several men. Each reported to the count and went away without communicating with anyone else. Kakemour’s youngest son came and went on errands for Seth that had the boy strutting about proudly at the honor entrusted to him. The youngster appeared in the courtyard now and gave a message to his mother. Anqet was promptly escorted into the house and deposited in front of Count Seth in the master’s chamber.

Beside the count stood Lord Dega, whom Anqet had seen a few times at court. Seen together, the two young men looked like fire and gentle rain. Seth and Dega looked her up and down. Anqet was suddenly glad that the shift she was wearing was too big for her.

“You see what is needed,” Seth said.

“Aye, my lord. The men will be here at sunset with what you require.” Dega cast a glance of mingled pity and admiration at Anqet before leaving.

Seth came toward her Anqet edged away, but he took her wrist and pulled her to a stool. Pushing her down, he stood before her with his hands on his hips. He too had bathed and donned clean clothing. Once more sparkling and neat, every flamboyant auburn tress in place, Seth wore a simple kilt that bared his long legs. They were perfectly porportioned specimens, with lean muscles that spoke of constant hard exercise. Anqet dragged her eyes away from a brown thigh only to have them wander to Seth’s hips. The kilt wrapped around them securely, concealing and protecting what lay below. A flush made her cheeks hot. Anqet looked away, cringing at the count’s soft laugh.

“Virgin singer, you’re not as afraid of me as I thought.”

Anqet glared at him. “What are you going to do with me?”

“At the moment, I’m going to ask you questions. What I do with you depends on the answers you give. Why were you spying on me?”

Pursing her lips together, Anqet said nothing. She wouldn’t say anything that might help this conceited barbarian.

Something sharp pricked her neck. Anqet cried out. Seth held a knife to her throat with one hand and steadied her with the other.

“I said I wouldn’t kill you. I didn’t say I would not hurt you. You’ve appeared twice at the scene of great events. I’m beginning to think it might not be by accident. Convince me that I should not sell you to a Babylonian slave merchant.”

Anqet swallowed. The knifepoint moved with the convulsion of her throat. Would he do such a thing? Of course he would. He’d done things far worse. If he’d steal from the dead, he wouldn’t mind slicing her up and then selling her into foreign slavery. She must answer him. If she appeared cowed, he might relax his guard enough for her to escape.

“Answer me.”

“I was writing a letter,” Anqet said.

“What are you talking about?”

“To my suitor, Lord Menana. I was writing a letter to him. I had this plan to get rid of Hauron, only you ruined it.”