by Andre Norton
“Not so, Great Lady. And as you know he was directly under the eyes of the Sworn Swords while he was in New Napata, for barbarians do not roam our cities freely. No, he wanted the Candace, and when he asked for whoever ruled in her place that one”—Tallahassee knew Sela referred to Idieze—“sent him word that her husband was of the Blood. But whether he knew that he was not dealing with the truth or not, I do not know. They had but one formal audience and did not meet again. So, at last the barbarian left.…”
Another Khasti? They had all they needed with the one they had, Tallahassee thought ruefully. So Akini—he had been real—a person Sela had knowledge of. But what was Akini now? And how had he been so altered, or entrapped, as to exist only as a wraith, a troubling of air? It was Khasti’s doing, of that she was sure. If she could only reach Zyhlarz, for even Ashake memory could not supply the answer to such a riddle as this.
There remained the other question—how might she contact Jayta and Herihor, reassure them that the talismen were out of enemy hands and safe? Animals could go out, but, undirected, what could animals then do? Undirected—she began to consider that. Dogs were noted at running down masters at a distance, nosing out nearly extinguished trails. Cats had been known in her own time and world to cover long distances to be reunited with families who had moved away, or had lost them from cars during trips.
Herihor, as became his rank, had a dwelling in New Napata, but he was seldom there. Certainly not enough to keep a pet animal. But … She must think—plan—on a single small and very wild chance.
“Sela, who is at the Prince General’s dwelling now. Can you find out?”
“I can find out, though it may take a little time, Great Lady—there are but few I can trust here. However, there is one of the Sworn Swords who had the fever and is now well. Her, I helped to nurse. I can bring her to you, and she will be better able perhaps to discover what occurs in the city. But first, Great Lady, I urge you to eat. You are very weak and your body is so worn that you look as if you have had the fever!”
“Well enough.”
Sela apologized that the food she brought was mainly cold but the maid could only smuggle a portion of regular food on the tray supposedly intended for Sela herself, who added dried dates, cheese, small loaves of bread which she could conceal about her person.
Sela had helped Tallahassee into one of the Candace’s plainer robes, settling a folded linen headress over her cropped hair. But looking in the mirror the girl was forced to admit that she did resemble one recovering from an accident. She still felt thirsty and drank deeply of the fruit juice and water Sela brought her. But at least she was ready to face this Amazon guard of Naldamak’s, on whom her plan, hazy as it still was, depended so much. When Sela brought the young warrior to her room later that night Tallahassee still wondered if one could do such thing.
“Great Lady!” The wonder in the newcomer’s eyes was clear, but her salute was instant. And Ashake memory recognized her for a girl recruited on one of the northern royal holdings, her family loyal for generations to the thone.
“Greetings, Moniga. These are dark times.” She went abruptly into what she would say.
“True, Great Lady. You have some mission for me?” The other girl was intelligent and also came directly to the point.
“Is it possible for you to get into the dwelling of the Prince General Herihor, there locate some object which has been close to his body. A piece of clothing he has worn that has not been washed—though that may be impossible. If not, something he has handled and not too long ago?”
“Great Lady, to his place I can go. Whether I can get what you wish—that is another matter. But be sure that I shall try.”
“There is something else—if you get this thing that will bear the scent of the Prince General, then do you also bring to me Assar from the hound kennels.”
“Lady, it has been said, so will it be done.” The Amazon saluted and slipped carefully through the door Sela held open for her.
“Now—” Tallahassee turned to the nurse. “A pen I need, and ink and paper—these should be in the Candace’s study.”
“They are so—but I shall bring them Great Lady. Stir not forth from this room. There has been seen in the upper corridors a maid from the Prince Userkof’s wing. She has no good explanation for why she wandered so.”
Involuntarily Tallahassee glanced at the wall where hung the tapestry covering the secret way. Sela smiled a little, though her expression was still worried.
“None will come that way, Great Lady, not without giving good notice of their coming. I have set a certain alarm, one the Candace herself uses by her other door on occasion when she wants no disturbance. You may rest easy for that much.”
But could she, Tallahassee wondered? How long would the protection she had woven in that pit hold back Khasti if he sought her there? She must be alert constantly, and her attention swung from the wall tapestry to the chest in which she had seen Sela lay the bundled Key and Rod.
Tallahassee spread the sheet of thick paper on a corner of her “sister’s” dressing table, and fingered the pen absently. For a moment she was frightened. She could pen her message in her own words—but that would be unreadable. Ashake’s memory must provide again, so she opened the door once more for that. Characters slipped so slowly into her memory she had to fold and tear away the paper where she had made too many mistakes in translating the message she hoped, just hoped, could reach Herihor wherever he now might be. It was such a gamble that she dared not build upon success.
With infinite care she wrote out the characters of a running script that had developed from the long ago hieroglyphics of the north.
“Safe—Ashake; also—Precious things. City sealed. Candace—be warned.”
She read it over twice to be sure that she had made no errors in transcription. Then she folded it into a small square and looked to Sela.
“I would have a piece of cloth about so big”—she measured it off with her hands—“and it must be golden in color. Also, there is needed a length of the stoutest thread you can find, with a needle.”
The old woman asked no questions but went straightway to one of the chests of robes and began turning out its contents. Among them was a cloak to which Tallahassee pointed.
“That is the very shade!”
Sela shook out the garment. It was embroidered heavily along the hem but the upper portion was bare, and from that she ruthlessly cut the cloth Tallahassee had asked for. It was a very tough silk and, as the girl pulled it this way and that to test it, she saw that it was very tightly woven. Into the square she folded the note, making a packet that could have been hidden in the palm of her hand. Sela had gone out, but swiftly returned with an ivory spindle round which was wound linen thread as tough as any cord, with a needle already strung upon it.
Now it only remained to see if Moniga could fulfill her part of the task—and how long it would take to do so. Tallahassee could no longer sit still. In spite of the pain from her bandaged feet, she paced up and down the chamber, keeping well away from the curtained windows along one wall. Even though those gave only on a garden which was private to the Candace, and the light within the room was very limited, she wanted none to guess the suite was occupied.
“Sela—” She looked to the woman who had gone back to her stool in the corner. “What of the Temple? Has aught changed concerning the Son-of-Apedemek and his priests?”
“No, Great Lady. Only …” Sela paused and lowered her eyes.
“Only what, Sela?”
“Great Lady—there are whispers in the city—even those who serve the Daughter of Amun repeat them. They say that the Son-of-Apedemek may already be dead and with him all those who follow the Upper Way—that they were killed because they summoned demons who turned upon them.”
“Rumor can cause much trouble, Sela. There is no weapon in the end as difficult to overcome as the tongue of an enemy.”
She must get out of here, even if she could not leave the city. At the momen
t she felt as if she were again caged, if not as tightly as when under Khasti’s power, yet nearly as helplessly.
“Sela, this maid of whom you spoke—can you bring her to me?”
“Great Lady, at this hour she is lodged with the maids in the sleeping room where they lie six together. To summon her would cause remarks.”
“Can you get for me a garment such as she wears in her daytime service?”
“Great Lady—” Sela started up from her stool and came to stand before Tallahassee. She was a short woman and had plainly once been plump. Now the flesh hung loosely on her arms and her plumpness had centered in her belly. Her face was a network of fine wrinkles so that her kohl-encircled eyes had a strange look, almost as if they were set in a nearly naked skull. But she carried herself with the authority of one of importance in the household, and now a fraction of that authority rang in her voice:
“Great Lady, what is in your mind now to do?”
“I must be free of this room. You cannot continue to hide me here in secret for long, Sela.”
“There is no need perhaps to hide, Great Lady. Call forth the Sworn Swords. With them before your door what man can reach you?”
“Khasti—or those of his following can,” Tallahassee returned grimly. “Did he not have me out of the villa, with my own guard at the doors? He has more tricks than a camel carries fleas upon its mangy skin. And we do not know what force he controls even now. Zyhlarz, himself, and the others could never lock the gates of New Napata as this stranger from nowhere has done. No, he may believe me here, but perhaps before he can move as openly as he must to reach these rooms I shall be gone.”
She crossed to stand before the wide mirror on the dressing table.
“I am tall,” she frowned at her reflection, “and that I cannot conceal.” Ashake memory reminded her that this height was something that was a part of the inheritance of the Blood. “For the rest, yes, I think it can be managed. Get me such garments, Sela, as a maid wears.”
The old nurse hesitated. “Great Lady, I pray you, think of this again. What will you do, where do you go?”
“That I cannot answer, because I do not yet know. But I will not do anything rashly, so do I swear to you, Sela.”
The other shook her head, but she went. Tallahassee sat down on the bench before the dressing table. Her face had none of the cosmetic coating now. She peered a little more closely, advancing her face closer to the surface of the glass. As limited as the light was cut off by the curtains, she could not be mistaken. That stain which they had put upon her body when she had assumed the part of Ashake was beginning to fade a little. Certainly she looked paler now than she had when she had last looked upon herself back at the villa.
But to ask Sela for the use of … no! She had no intention of adding to her difficulties by allowing a woman so devoted to the Candace to realize she was not in truth the Queen’s sister. Wait—she had seen maids at the villa who were much darker of skin even than Jayta, Herihor, or the two priestesses. She could certainly use that for a basis for her request to the old nurse. Tallahassee was pleased with herself at that bit of reasoning.
She began to open the jars and boxes ranged neatly before the mirror, peering into them. Some held fragrant oils, the perfume of which, concentrated by being so lidded, arose headily in the air. There was the familiar eye paint, and two jars of delicately scented creams, a little bottle of red which might be liquid rouge or else lip paint. But most of this would not be worn by any maid.
Her head turned sharply. Unlike the curtains that had veiled the doorways at the villa, the entrance to the Candace’s personal suite had a door fitted for complete privacy. And in the stillness of the night she had caught a scratching noise.
Tallahassee stole as noiselessly as she might across the outer room. Then she heard a sound that reassured her—a whine. Moniga must have succeeded!
But Tallahassee was still cautious as she opened the door. The Amazon stood there, and, held on a tight leash, was Assar.
“In!” The girl waved them on, shutting the door instantly. Assar whined again, head high, sniffing. Of all the Saluki hounds in the kennel, he was the best for coursing, the most intelligent of his very ancient breed. He needed both talents now, and perhaps a third, to be receptive to orders given in a way even Ashake had never tried. Those of the Temple had worked in this fashion with cats, great and small, since the breed had always been sacred to Apedemek. But a cat hunted by sight, and only one of the highly trained palace hounds could course a scent over a long distance.
“You have it?”
“This, Great Lady.” The Amazon produced one of those broad ceremonial wrist bracelets that had evolved from the bow guards of the ancient archers. It was interlined with a padding of leather.
“His Highness sent it to the city a month ago, for the stone of the setting”—Moniga pointed to a large carved carnelian—“was loose. There was nothing else that he had recently worn.”
“It must do. You have been both quick and clever, Moniga.”
“The Great One desires, her desire is the law,” the Amazon replied formally, but her face shone.
“Assar—good Assar.” Tallahassee rested her hand on the dog’s head. His smooth coat was golden, soft and silky. On the ears, legs, and tail, it feathered long and gracefully.
The tail swung at her greeting and he followed her into the bedroom where she reached for the small packet she had made ready. As she sewed it to his collar Assar stood patiently, looking up into her face, now and then whining very softly as if asking what was to be done.
She had chosen the color well, the packet against his throat could hardly be distinguished from his own coloring. Now she took up the arm band Moniga had brought, turning it so that keen nose could sniff at the padding where, if she would have any luck at all in this mad venture, Herihor’s scent would linger.
Tallahassee allowed the hound some moments to make sure of the scent, and then she knelt before him, so that they were nearer eye to eye, and put one hand on either side of his high-held head. Now—she willed into her mind a picture of Herihor, then of the way north, again of Herihor. Patiently she kept herself to the task, repeating it a dozen times over. The worst was not being sure whether she was reaching that brain so alien to her own, whether Assar knew what must be done. But she was coming once more to the end of her own power of concentration. She would have to accept, now, either success or failure.
Getting somewhat stiffly to her feet, Tallahassee held out the leash to the Amazon.
“There is the small gate of Nefhor—How late is the hour?”
“It is within two hours of dawn, Great Lady.”
“So. This you must do, Moniga, and without being seen if possible. Loose Assar near the gate. If he goes through, then we have a small chance of reaching the Prince General. If I have failed, doubtless he will return with you. But take every precaution you can not to be observed.”
“There is the guard of the Prince Userkof at the gate, but they are not alert.” The Amazon wrinkled her nose expressively with scorn. “They believe that the barrier is complete.”
“Still—go with care.”
“That we shall, Great Lady.” The Amazon saluted, and Tallahassee let dog and woman out of the door. She sighed and went wearily into the bedroom, to collapse once more on the bed, where she lay staring up at the painted ceiling, her restless thoughts not allowing her any peace.
“Great Lady.” Sela had slipped in with her accustomed skill at appearing by the bedside before one was even aware she was there. “You must rest—or the fever will come. I know not what you plan to do, but you cannot attempt it yet.”
Her wrinkled hand gently touched Tallahassee’s forehead, and it seemed to the girl that the coolness of her fingers spread swiftly throughout her tense body, relaxing nerves and muscles.
“Drink, Lady.”
Before she could move, a practiced arm slid beneath her head, raising her up until a goblet met her lips. She drank, her
weariness overcoming the need for action for the moment.
“Sleep …” Sela’s hand stroked her forehead, peace and safety in that gentle and loving gesture. There had been so much—so much …
“Sleep …”
Tallahassee’s eyes closed as if the lids were so weighted she might never hope to raise them again. And if she dreamed, no memory of those dreams carried over into her awakening.
Sunlight edged the window curtains when she roused. And the room held heat—the fans would not be at work with the Candace gone, of course. She felt the moisture in her armpits and gathering along her temples, under her breasts. After blinking for a breath or two, she sat up in bed and reached for the tall glass bottle set on the bedside table, tipping a goodly amount of the water it held into its attendant glass and drinking it down. Sela’s stool in the corner was vacant. There was no sound through the hot and airless rooms of the suite.
Piled nearby upon one of the chairs was white clothing. But first of all she wanted to bathe, to rid her body, if only momentarily, of the sheen of sweat and gain what refreshment she could from cool water against her skin.
Bundling the clothing under one arm (it was the servant’s dress she had asked Sela for) Tallahassee went into the luxury of the Candace’s bathroom where water from one lion-headed pipe fed into a basin in which one could sit nearly awash to the shoulders, and then lapped out an overflow slit in the wall. She dug her hands deep into a sweet-smelling cream that lathered and washed away like soap. But her skin was lighter—several shades lighter.
How good was Sela’s eyesight? Had age dimmed it any? Discovery might depend on that alone now. She rinsed and wiped herself down with one of the towels hanging on a nearby rack. Then she dressed in the narrow white dress which was very close to that of the priestess, save that the bands across the shoulders were not white but red and there was no girdle to confine it at the waist.
“Great Lady—” That was Sela hurrying in.
“Listen.” Tallahassee was occupied with her own problem, hoping to so avert Sela’s notice of the color change in her skin. “If I am to pass as a maid, Sela, I should be darker of skin. Have you aught to use to make me so?”