The City of Refuge: Book 1 of The Memphis Cycle Read Online Free PDF Page B

believe you were saying that you are familiar with Akhet-Aten.”
    Khonsu turned and went back to the railing. “I've led desert patrols for the Nomarch, Your Grace,” he said. “You could say that I'm familiar with the surroundings.”
    “But not the city itself?”
    “Not inside the city limits, Your Grace,” Khonsu replied. “I have patrolled the borders.”
    Nebamun directed a lance-straight gaze at Khonsu. “Were you worried by ghosts, perhaps?”
    “I have heard the tales,” Khonsu replied. “I have always found them suspect. The city was abandoned and posed no threat to security, and I had better things to do than wander through ruined houses and temples.”
    To Khonsu's surprise, Nebamun began to laugh. “A sensible man!” he said. “I can see why Count Tothotep values you so highly.”
    “Your Grace is too kind,” Khonsu said. He added, “My men, those who I thought had no problems dealing with ghosts, went to Akhet-Aten to prepare suitable quarters for you and your entourage. I overestimated their immunity.”
    “It is understandable,” Nebamun said with a smile. “And what can you tell me of the quarries?”
    “They are close to the city,” Khonsu said. “I went inside them once. There are quarters nearby, built during the reign of Amenhotep III, that should house the workers without any problem.”
    Lord Nebamun nodded. He looked as though he were about to ask another question when a strident voice rose above the other sounds on the ship and made him turn and frown toward the bow.
    “I tell you, Paser, assigning the guard is my concern!”
    Nebamun's brows drove together in a frown as Paser and Ptahemhat approached him. “That's enough!” Nebamun snapped. “You are here unofficially, Paser. You will be reporting to Commander Khonsu from this moment. Ptahu, go back to your duties!”
    Nebamun raised his hand as Paser opened his mouth. “I said that is enough! Both of you go about your business. We should be halfway to Akhet-Aten before nightfall, and I want no bickering between now and then!”
    **   **   **
    “I apologize for assigning Paser to your group without consulting you first, Commander,” Lord Nebamun said later as they stood together at the port railing and watched the sunlit cliffs slip past them. They were sailing slowly south before the light wind. The rest of the group were enjoying a siesta on the deck, but the Second Prophet, like Khonsu, was a shore watcher.
    “There's no harm done, Your Grace,” Khonsu replied. “I can always use a good officer, and if it eases a bad situation, then I can't object.”
    “I hope you are correct,” Nebamun said. “I wanted to avoid this.”
    Khonsu asked the question that had been troubling him since he had first seen Paser and Ptahemhat. “Why do they hate each other?”
    “Jealousy, I suppose,” Nebamun said. “Ptahemhat was fostered in my household after his father's death twelve years ago. He wanted to go into the guard, and so I gave him an appointment. After that, his advancement depended on his own merit, which, if you'll take my word for it, is considerable. Paser's jealousy started about the time Ptahemhat was named second in command. But there's more...” He fell silent.
    When he did not speak, Khonsu said, “Your Grace?”
    Nebamun sighed and rested his weight on his folded arms. “You'll be commanding Paser so you may as well know,” he said. “There has been talk among the guards that Paser is no longer the man he once was. It is true enough: he's a healthy, strong man in his forties. But he doesn't understand that what a man can do at forty is far different from what he can do at twenty. He tires more easily, he grows fatter more quickly. But there are compensations: an older man's greater experience far outweighs a youth's raw, untrained strength. But Paser does not seem to understand any of this.”
    “But it should be obvious,” Khonsu said.
    “Never underestimate the power of wishful thinking,