A Vile Justice Read Online Free PDF Page A

miss you. All the bar you consume, the humor you so often exercise at my expense, the use you make of my knowledge and friendships, the. . ."
    Bak reached forward and pinched her fleshy cheek. "Be silent, old woman. Tears will flow from my eyes if you go on with your confession of fondness."
    She slapped his hand away. "Fondness, indeed! It's the demands you make that I'll miss. Like I'd miss a toothache." "How would you ever manage without me?"
    "None too well, I'd guess." Nebwa sauntered in from the front room, holding in each hand two pottery beer jars, their plugs already broken away. "If you hadn't made her your spy when first you came to Buhen, she'd still be eking out a living in that hovel in the outer city."
    Nofery lifted her head high and sniffed. "Will you never learn tact, Troop, Captain? I've no regrets about days gone by, nor do I wish to relive that life in words."
    Chuckling, he sat on the floor beside her and handed her a jar of beer. "Drink, my little dove. Drown your sour disposition in the finest brew in Buhen."
    Imsiba followed Nebwa into the court, carrying a small basket lined with leaves. "If the beer won't cheer her, perhaps this gift sent by Sitamon will put a smile on her face." Sitamon was Imsiba's beloved, an attractive young woman he planned soon to take for his wife.
    He handed the basket to Nofery and joined Nebwa on the floor. She folded back the leaves to reveal a dozen or more small cakes made of crushed dates and nuts, dripping with honey. Her eyes.locked onto them, and she licked her lips. They were her favorite delicacy, a fact Sitamon knew well.
    "So..." Nebwa demanded, winking at Bak, ". . . are you going to eat them all yourself or will you share a few?" Flashing him a contemptuous look, she handed the basket over. He took a sweet and passed it on. Bak and Imsiba refused the offer. Sitamon had meant them for Nofery, and she should have them.
    She helped herself and took a bite, delighting in the taste and texture. "Would that I could go to Abu, too," she said, her voice tinged with yearning.
    Bak gave her a surprised look. "How many times have you told me you prefer Buhen to any other place?"
    "Can I not sometimes feel a longing for my homeland?" She frowned, as if unable to believe he could be so obtuse. "Can I not dream sometimes of returning to a valley of broad green fields and prosperous villages and cities where men and women walk the streets clad in fine linen and exquisite jewelry?"
    Bak knew she had long ago been a courtesan in the capital, a creature of beauty who had lain with the most lofty men in the land. She seldom mourned the past, but now and again memories lay heavy within her breast. He asked, "Have you ever heard of Djehuty, sired in Abu and now governor of the southernmost province of Kemet?"
    Distracted by the question and pleased he had consulted her, she licked the honey from her fingers. "Djehuty. Hmmmrn." Absentmindedly, she reached for another sweet. "Yes, son of a nobleman. One who also served as governor of the province, as did his father before him. And his father's father, so I heard." She took a bite, chewed. "Djehuty, sent as a boy to the capital to rub shoulders with the royal children. An only son, I seem to remember, spoiled by his mother and father alike. A stubborn youth, who did as he wished, heeding no one's advice, ofttimes taking upon himself authority too great for his age or abilities."
    Nebwa snorted. "Sounds a true son of the nobility. I hope for your sake, Bak, he's outgrown such childish, headstrong behavior."
    "I'll find out soon enough. We sail at first light tomorrow, and if the gods smile on us, we'll arrive in Abu nine or ten days hence."
    Imsiba eyed him across the top of the beer jar. "Would that I could go with you, my friend."
    "And I, too," Nebwa said, raising his jar to Bak. "No slayer alive could hide his guilt for long with the three of us . . ." He glanced at Nofery, read the hurt on her face at being left out, smiled. ". .