The soldiers hurry back with beer and sticks of varying shapes and sizes, which they drop on the ground beside me. I take the shorter stick and give it to Akin to bite on, then pour beer over the wound, rinsing away the sand and dirt. Sham looks over his shoulder at me, waiting for his signal, and I nod, indicating he should hold Akin’s upper body immobile if necessary.
Still murmuring the incantation and with Heka flowing through me, I take firm hold of the foot. Akin makes a brief strangled noise, clenching his comrades’ hands. I pull the leg straight until it reaches the length of the other leg. The bone slips back beneath the skin. A few more heartbeats and I get the bone back into place as best I can, smear honey on the wound, then bind it with the linen strips.
Still chanting, I hold up two fingers to the soldier who brought the sticks, then hold my hands apart indicating the size I need. He passes me two longer ones and I break them over my knee, a good length for a splint. One will go along the man’s inner leg, the other along the outside. I realize I have nothing left to bind them without losing a significant portion of my dress, and I cast my eyes about. One of the soldiers gripping his friend’s hand, the one who retrieved the beer, anticipates my need and removes his skirt, ripping it into strips. All this time I utter the incantation in a hypnotic manner. Along with the restorative magic it lends, it seems to be having a calming effect; everyone is following my instructions, without need for explanations. The man donating his skirt, who was fortunately wearing a loincloth beneath it, hands me four sections of cloth. I use two of them to bind the leg to the splints, not too tight, not too loose. I tie the remaining swathes of cloth around the ankle, and it is done. I nod at Sham to move and he obliges. He did not need to restrain the man; Amara’s husband is very brave. I finish intoning the incantation and look into Akin’s eyes, which are unfocused, pupils large and black with pain and shock.
“My friend,” I say softly, willing him to believe my words. “You will heal well.” He licks his dry lips, and I bring the remaining beer to his mouth. “Move him out of the sun,” I say to the soldiers who assisted with the proceedings. “Take care, now.”
The three of them are settling Akin under a large tree when several people come into view: Pepi and the chieftain, Min, Paser, and Reb, led by another soldier who must have gone for the tribe’s leader.
I watch Paser’s and Reb’s faces as they take in the incredible creatures across the way. They look as if they do not quite believe what they are seeing. Reb blinks, rubbing his eyes like he is having a lingering desert vision. Min and the chieftain, who seems extremely concerned about his soldier, examine the patient.
Pepi heads straight for me. “What happened?” he asks.
“He broke his leg.”
“How?”
Sham interrupts. “He fell. I wanted to wait for Min.”
Pepi walks over to confer with Min and Yanassi. The chieftain stands, concern turning to anger that his second-in-command is now out of commission. I did the best I could with what I had available, but it is too early to say if his gait will be altered or if other complications might arise. He most definitely will not be riding anything for some time.
The chieftain’s arms are crossed, and his voice is loud. His narrowed gaze falls on me, and suddenly he strides in my direction. For a few heartbeats I think he is going to strike me. After all, I am not supposed to be here, or tending patients.
He towers over my small frame. I force myself not to step back, and I raise my chin to look at him directly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Pepi take a few steps closer to us.
“You have my thanks,” the chieftain says, looking down his bold nose. I blink. “Min says he could not have done better.” His next words have me blinking again. “You may assist the healer in his work, in addition to preparing medicines.” He turns to Sham, who straightens considerably at his approach. “You will take Akin’s place.”
Sham nods.
The chieftain looks over at Paser and Reb, who are ogling the horses, sizing each of them in turn. “Young Paser,” he says, and Paser looks over. “You will join our ranks. Every man is needed.” He looks at Reb, who cannot tear his eyes from the horses. “You, too, tooth puller.” Reb glances at him, startled.
The chieftain looks back at his fallen man. “Tend him well,” he commands Min, who instructs a few of the other soldiers to assist with bringing Akin back to the main part of the camp.
The chieftain stalks off, Pepi at his side, the cousins talking in low tones. The rest of the soldiers disperse as the sun reaches its highest point, getting out of the blazing heat to rest. A few men round the horses up into a large pen under the trees, then head to the village, the day’s training done.
Paser and Reb stand by me and we watch the creatures in silence. There are a few dozen in all, varying in size and colour.
“Congratulations on your promotion, Sesha,” Paser says quietly after a few moments. It is always jarring how a life can crack open in an instant. Healers know this especially well.
“I don’t know whether to congratulate you on yours,” I say faintly.
“I suppose that will depend on how permanent it is,” Paser murmurs. “I do not mind training, but let us hope it goes no further. Despite having my Egyptian blood washed away the other night, I do not want to face my countrymen in battle.”
I shiver. Battle wounds would make the soldier’s broken leg seem like a papyrus cut in comparison.
Paser and Reb take a closer look at the horses. I watch them marvel at the creatures. After surviving the brutal desert, the relative sanctuary of the oasis made thoughts of war seem distant. As did recovering from the gruelling trek, being preoccupied with impending marriage, and plotting our escape.
But now, seeing the training grounds first-hand and up close, as well as the injuries that come with the territory, brings back the realities of combat, fierce and fresh. I do not know if Thebes still contemplates battle with the Hyksos. With the threat of famine, they may have more pressing concerns. But it seems the Hyksos at the camp are indeed preparing. Standing in the middle of an empty meadow as dusk approaches, I am struck hard by the potential peril to the people I care for.
Ky’s face appears suddenly in my mind and my heart contracts, painfully. I try not to think of him too often; it causes only sorrow. Yet, in this moment, I can think of nothing but my brother and those I left behind in Thebes: Ahmes, Bebi, even prickly Kewat. And, on the other side, the people here at the oasis: Paser and Reb, now soldiers, Merat, Amara and her babe, even Pepi. Heart pounding, blood roaring, I feel the earth spin out from under me.
Sitting down hard, I force myself to breathe in and out. Father always said not to underestimate the power of a simple breath. I see his smiling face, his intelligent eyes. After all, it is the only thing that separates life from death, Sesha.
Reb reaches out a hand to one of the horses, murmuring soothing words to calm the skittish creature, which rears back at his approach. A few more words and the horse stills, allowing Reb to stroke its long hair as it flutters in the wind.
Maybe, in addition to getting us to Avaris, there is something I can do to help calm the tensions between the tribes, as Reb’s words soothe the horse’s ruffled nerves. Something that can help prevent injuries, loss of life, and the devastation that comes with fighting. My earlier notion to ask Pepi to train me in his line of work crystallizes into a sharp point, like the tip of my father’s obsidian dagger — a way to cut two strands of rope with one blade. I must speak with Pepi at once.
After all, who understands diplomatic relations better than a spy?
31
EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, I seek Pepi out. I slept little last night, telling no one of my idea. I wanted to sit with it for a bit, turning things over in my mind, considering the enormity of what I am asking. Paser and Reb are still wary of the spy, and Merat will be most distressed to hear that plans of escape may be on hold for a while. As I make my way quietly through the oasis, the sky begins to lig
hten around me. Dark blue fades into light blue, melting into a soft orange glow. I recall our journey through the desert, how Pepi liked to watch Ra come up.
I find him at last, tending the horses. Nefer is there, lazily chewing her food, looking unimpressed by the competition. The sun rises slowly and peacefully from the underworld. There is no one else about but the birds, chirping their good mornings, everyone else still taking their morning meal.
“Pepi.”
He turns at my call and blinks, perhaps at my determined face. “Sesha. You are up with Ra this morning. I take it you wish something of me?”
“Yes.” I decide not to dance around the palm and instead come straight out with it. “I want you to teach me to be a spy.”
He does not look as shocked at my outrageous request as I am expecting. “Why?”
“For several reasons.” The faces of all the people I love appear in my head. “But ultimately, I am of the same mind as you. I wish to ease things between our peoples and, if possible, avoid war.” And get my friends to Avaris, I remind myself.
Folding his arms, he examines me, his sharp gaze equal parts amusement and challenge. “What makes you think I do not want war?”
“A feeling.” I hesitate. “Am I wrong?”
I expect him to deny my request, to tell me I am mistaken, to go back and eat my morning meal. Instead, he lets out a snort, sounding like one of the strange creatures behind him. “Good instincts will serve you well in the profession.”
A thrill shoots through my body. “You will do it, then?”
“The idea is actually not the most ludicrous thing I have heard,” he admits, rubbing his chin. “But do you and your friends not have plans of your own, perhaps other places you want to be?” I try to keep my face impassive. He’s known the whole time. Of course he has. He continues. “Being a spy is exceptionally dangerous. You are often in peril and the life is not always a comfortable one.”
“I am not afraid of discomfort.” I scratch my arms reflexively, the remnants of a rash almost faded.
“While boils are never fun, neither is lying at the bottom of a pit awaiting death or dismemberment,” he reminds me, and I look up at him, swallowing. “I only want you to be aware of what you are asking.” Unlike his words, his tone is gentle.
I think of Ky. Of Paser and Reb, who will have to fight in battle. “If I can do anything to make the lives of those I care for safer, I am at peace with that.”
“Very well.” He studies me for a moment longer. “Meet me here at dusk and we will begin your training.”
“May I ask a question?”
“You may. Though I reserve the right not to answer it.”
“Though I know the reasons I wish to avoid war, I am curious about yours,” I say in a rush. “Your thoughts do not seem aligned with your cousin’s.” Maybe that was why the chieftain left him in a pit? This is something I intend to inquire further about in the future, but one thing at a time. “Does it have anything to do with the other interests you represent? The ones you mentioned on our journey here?”
Pepi looks off into the distance at something I am unable to see and is quiet. “I have seen enough people die,” he says finally, and I sense there is more than he is telling me. “Though I feel otherwise, Yanassi wants those at Thebes to acknowledge us as rulers, not only in the North but throughout the whole land. He is ambitious and wishes to extend our reach. He thinks the recent dynasties at Thebes grow weak and sees an opportunity. He also sees the treasures that come from there, the tribute previous rulers paid to our people. He seeks not only recognition, but his share of the wealth.”
I have seen the treasures for myself. A huge cache hidden beneath the temple catacombs. Too many to count, and there may well be more rooms like that one.
“You have no desire for riches or recognition yourself?”
Pepi must hear the doubt in my voice, because he looks at me intently. “I have no use for material things. Or titles,” he says, his look full of meaning. “Give me the earth beneath my feet, the sun on my face, water and food in my belly, music in my ears, and people who love me. That is enough.”
“Do you have people who love you?”
“I did once.” His face closes and I know the conversation is over. “You are good at getting people to talk, Sesha, a useful skill in our profession.” Pepi is back to business. “It goes hand in hand with the first rule of a spy: protecting your information. Knowledge is currency. It is learning that makes us truly rich, not things.”
“My father felt the same,” I say, inwardly cheering that he said our profession. “He and my mother taught me many things.” Not only about medicine, but about how to love and what it means to be a good friend, a family.
“Your parents made you rich indeed, Sesha,” Pepi says, his voice soft again. It occurs to me that I am learning to read him.
I arch a brow. “And now you are going to make me richer?”
He smiles, his white teeth flashing in the sun. “I can make you the wealthiest woman in all of the lands.”
The rest of the morning passes agonizingly slowly. Anxious for my training to start, I cannot keep my mind focused on the gardening tasks. Min senses my distraction and sends me on my way with a poultice for Akin, dismissing me for the day.
I run into Amara on my way to the village. “Sesha!” she exclaims, eyeing the poultice in my hands. “Is that for Akin?”
“Yes. How is he doing?”
She looks back at the hut. “He is managing. I can take it to him,” she offers, one hand on the baby strapped to her.
“Are you sure?” I say. “I am happy to do it.”
“I know how to apply a poultice, Sesha,” she says with a smile. “Besides, he prefers me to tend him. I do not think he likes others seeing him in pain.”
“Very well.” I hand her the poultice, familiar with soldiers and their pride. “But let us know if anything changes in his condition, or if he needs more medicine for his discomfort.”
“I will,” she promises. “You have been most helpful to us of late.”
“It is my privilege to attend you,” I say, then peer at the cozy bundle on her chest. “How is the little one doing after yesterday’s snip?”
“It does not seem to bother her much,” she says, expression lightening.
“Wonderful.” I beam. We exchange a few more words and then, with another reminder to seek Min out should Akin need his attention, we part ways, she to her husband, me to grab a quick meal before heading to my other, more clandestine, duties.
“One of the key tasks of being a spy,” Pepi says, “is to remain unseen in plain sight.” We are back at the training grounds. Ra is on his way down, his setting rays casting the oasis in a dusky glow, as beautiful as the one this morning. Pepi frowns at me. “You may find this difficult.”
“I did this for an entire moon after my parents’ death,” I point out.
“You are a wanted woman now,” Pepi points out. “At least in Thebes. And your looks will make it difficult for you to go unnoticed.”
My cheeks redden, one hand going to my hair. “Then I will change them.”
“You possess a certain … quality that shines from the inside. Cutting off your hair will not alter that.” Pepi’s voice is matter-of-fact. “So you must become invisible as best you can, with the language of your body, your voice and mannerisms, skill at disguise. Watch Namu, the storyteller, closely at the fire tonight. Learn how he embodies animals and people, how he captures their essence.”
“I will study his magic,” I promise.
“The second thing, and just as important as blending in, if not more so, is the ability to think clearly in the midst of chaos. You must analyze situations quickly and logically. You cannot let emotion get the better of you, or all will be lost.”
I think of Akin’s broken leg and my other experiences with medical emergencies. “I can remain calm in tense situations.”
“Maybe when tending patients,” Pepi agrees. “But
all of us have weak areas. We must find yours, expose them, and make them strong.”
“How?” I say, slightly nervous.
“I am going to give you a series of tests. If you fail too many, your training will end.”
“But —”
Pepi interrupts me. “You have many of the qualities it takes to be a good spy. You are extremely intelligent, a quick thinker, and brave and honourable. I would not be doing this if I did not think you would be good at it.” I blush at his compliment, though he says it objectively. “You are also young and have lived mostly a privileged life. You might see much that will affect you. We must train you not to react during fraught situations.”
I think of the fire that took my parents’ lives, of surviving the streets of Thebes, of Queen Anat and Crooked Nose’s treachery, of murderous fruit vendors who wanted Ky and me to pay with our lives for merely trying to survive. Then there was the desert crossing, severe dehydration, starvation, sandstorms. I feel I can handle most things.
Pepi’s next words are like punches in my gut. “You no longer have a family. Your parents are dead, your brother lost to you. This will limit your weaknesses.”
Firmly shoving my distress aside for the moment, I look up at Pepi. “When do we begin the tests?”
He puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly. A horse whinnies in response. “Now.”
32
“I HAVE NOT HAD TIME TO STUDY,” I protest.
“The tests are based on intuition and skills you must already possess,” Pepi calls over his shoulder, walking to the horses. I follow at a slower pace, apprehensive of the mysterious creatures. Particularly after witnessing what can happen as a result of getting too close. Unfortunately, Pepi has decided that if anyone is curious about our activities, we will say he is teaching me to ride. Thank Shai we encountered only Paser and Reb, who were on their way back to the village. As new additions, they are the last to leave the training grounds, responsible for cleanup. Both gave us a curious look as we greeted them but made no comment, presumably starving after a long day and in a hurry to go eat.
The Desert Prince Page 13