should be soon. Searching for a man bent on escaping justice is like tracking a wild creature across the desert. The older the signs he's left behind, the fainter they become."
"Too many questions remain unanswered to make the decision now. And I've another matter to discuss, one equally important if not more so."
Bak felt deflated. Before he had entered the room, it had never occurred to him that he might be allowed to do more than learn the dead man's name and where he came from. Now that he knew he might have the responsibility of searching for the slayer, he longed to get on with it. What could be more important than balancing the scales of justice?
Thuty bade him and Nebwa be seated, settled back in his chair, and reached for a stemmed drinking bowl standing on the table near his elbow. "About two months ago, a courier came through Buhen on his way to Kemet. He carried a message from Amon-Psaro, a powerful tribal king from the land of Kush. Perhaps you know of him."
Bak had heard the name but knew nothing of the man, whose sphere of influence lay far to the south, well beyond the Belly of Stones.
Nebwa grew thoughtful. "A man to be watched. One who has great influence over the other kings in that wretched land. I'd not like to face the army he could gather if ever he should find a reason to make war on the land of Kemet."
"Nor would I," Thuty agreed. "We, with the other garrisons on the Belly of Stones, would be the first to face him. I doubt we'd have the strength to hold him back long enough for reinforcements to come to our aid."
"Has a trader or someone else with business in the south committed an offense Amon-Psaro can't overlook?" Bak asked.
"Not at all." Thuty's smile came and went in an instant. "His firstborn son, a child of ten or eleven years and heir to the throne, suffers from an illness no physician has been able to cure. The courier carved a message to our sovereign, Maatkare Hatshepsut herself, asking that the lord Amon be sent to Kush to heal the boy."
"I can well imagine the physicians who live in that vile place," Nebwa scoffed. "Little more than daubers of tainted mud, would be my guess."
"Not a request lightly refused," Bak said.
Thuty nodded. "The lord Amon and the physicians traveling with him set sail as soon as they could. Almost a month ago."
No wonder the commandant hopes to avoid the problem of the slain man! Bak thought. The god would pass through Buhen and travel up the Belly of Stones, and the responsibility for his safety and well-being would rest on Thuty's shoulders.
Thuty stretched out his legs, crossed his ankles, and sipped from his bowl. "Even then, couriers came and went, one after another. Because the fortress of Semna lies at the head of the Belly of Stones on the border of Wawat and Kush, it was selected as the meeting place. Ceremonial etiquette was established, and the numbers and ranks of those who would accompany each party were decided." He took another sip and set the bowl on the table beside him. "I chose the two of you to stand among them."
A broad smile spread across Nebwa's face. "We're to travel to Semna with the god?"
All thought of the slain man fled. Bak's disappointment faded to a shadow, and he imagined himself joining the priestly retinue. Then memory of the body hanging over him in the water intruded. "When is the lord Amon expected, sir?"
"Two days, three at most."
Bak almost laughed aloud at the absurdity of the situation. The god and the dead man would most likely demand his attention at the same time. He could see no way of serving both.
Thuty settled deeper into his chair. "You, Nebwa, will provide the men who'll haul the god's barge out of the water and pull it upriver past the worst of the rapids in the Belly of Stones."
Nebwa's face fell at so menial a task.
"Your men will toil only as far as Iken," Thuty reassured him. "From there, each garrison commander will assign his own men to pull the vessel past his segment of rapids, while the
Clive;Justin Scott Cussler