Soldier of Sidon l-3

by Gene Wolfe

  "What kind of mines?" I asked.

  "Better not to talk about that," the stranger said.

  Sahuset told me, "Gold."

  The stranger was chagrined. "I didn't know you knew about it."

  "I didn't," Sahuset told him, "but I grew up in Wawat. I know what sort of mines were there."

  Myt-ser'eu's eyes were wide. "Is gold cheap there?"

  "No," Sahuset said. "The mines are exhausted, and there is no place on all the broad earth where gold is cheap." WE SPENT THE night on this ship. Myt-ser'eu and I went ashore with the captain and his wife, ate a good dinner with them, and returned here. Myt-ser'eu soon slept, but I stayed awake, looking at the harbor with its many lights and at the city behind it. There is a tower, squat but strong, on an island in the harbor, and a wall separates the harbor district from the city proper. We have not been past it-the gates were closing for the night when we arrived. The captain's helper was on the ship with me. His name is Azibaal. So were Uro of Kemet and Vayu of Parsa, who calls this city Yeb. He says that in the morning I will have to see the sagan, with the captain and another man he named. I did not know who this other man was, but did not wish to display my ignorance.

  With us on the ship was my slave. His name is Uraeus. He is of Kemet, a bent, long-necked man of middle years. He had been in the hold, but came up to greet us as soon as we returned. Myt-ser'eu fears him, as I saw, though she would not confess it. Humbly, he asked permission to return to the hold, promising to come at once if I called. I agreed. I suppose he has a bed there.

  Later Sahuset the Healer came on board. He wanted to speak to me away from the others, so I sent Uro and Vayu to the stern, where they chatted with Azibaal and the steersman.

  "Myt-ser'eu is unfaithful to you," Sahuset told me. "Did you know it?"

  I shook my head.

  "She lay with Agathocles the other night."

  I asked who he was.

  "The man of Hellas, the wine merchant."

  "The one who speaks of mines?"

  "Yes, he. You had gone and she was drunk. She offered herself, and he took her."

  I said, "Will he fight me for her?"

  Sahuset laughed softly. His laugh is not a good one to hear by night on board a dark ship. "He has not the stomach for it, I'm sure."

  I shrugged. "Then she is mine. If he touches her and I see it, there will be trouble."

  "I was going to make you an amulet that would guarantee her loyalty."

  "She has an amulet already," I said. "It's a bull's head. She says she got it from you."

  "How do you know that? You forget everything."

  I told him I had seen it around her neck while we ate, and asked what it was for.

  "She has not worn it for some days. Last night it would have protected her, but it would not keep her from Agathocles. That was not its purpose."

  "Protected her from what?" I asked.

  "From me," announced a woman's voice behind me.

  I turned to look at her. I had not known she was on the ship with us, and remarked that she had come very quietly.

  "We always do."

  Sahuset cleared his throat. "Latro, this is Sabra, my wife."

  I told them that Myt-ser'eu said she was my wife, and asked if it were true.

  "Only as long as you say it." Sabra sounded amused. Her voice makes it hard not to touch her.

  "I am here," Sahuset told me, "in the hope that the Red God will visit you as he said. He did not come last night, though you waited for him. I hope that it was because I was not here. If so, he may come tonight."

  Sabra said, "I am here for the same reason, though mine is less wordy. I am here because you are, Latro."

  "Did I give you leave?" Sahuset sounded angry.

  Sabra shook her head. "Not even leave to set foot outside my-compartment? Bedchamber? It gets terribly hot in there, bedchamber or no. I find it much more pleasant up here. With Latro."

  "Someone listens," Sahuset told us.

  My slave, stooped and smaller than most men, stepped from the darker darkness of a shadow. I saw the moonlight gleam on his bald head. "I was not spying upon you," he told Sahuset. "Only listening for my master's call."

  I said, "This is Uraeus. Perhaps you both know him."

  "They do, master. What is it you wish?"

  I smiled at that. "To remember other men, as other men do."

  "I cannot heal you, master. Nor can he who gave me. If we could, we would do it at once. I never forget, however, and I will be your memory whenever you permit it."

  I promised I would try to remember that, and declared that he was welcome to remind me of lost memories whenever he thought it wise.

  "Then I remind you that this woman is the one you watched Sahuset mold of wax."

  I did not believe it, but Sabra laughed softly and said, "Found out so soon! Did you really think me flesh and blood, Latro?"

  I said I had, and forbore adding that I still did.

  "We lay figures can be animated by magic, as I have often been. Does that amaze you?"

  "It surprises me at least," I said, and added that I should have realized she was too beautiful to be a mortal woman.

  "Oh, I'm mortal enough. I would burn like a candle."

  "As you soon will," Sahuset said, "if you go far on the path you have chosen tonight."

  "Would I object, dear?"

  Sahuset did not answer.

  Sabra took my hand; hers felt soft and sticky. "Most often," she whispered, "the magicians make crocodiles. I myself was such a crocodile once. Magicians have many enemies."

  I nodded and said I understood.

  "Or they shape serpents to work their will. There is a serpent here, though it is not of that kind."

  I said that I would kill it if she would show it to me.

  "I would rather you did not. It rids the hold of rats, so it is dear-"

  Sahuset interrupted her. "I did not give you life tonight. Who did? Tell me!"

  "Why, this handsome soldier, of course. Did you think he had no talents?"

  "He has many." Sahuset's words were shaped to hide his anger. "He's a fine swordsman."

  "As if you could judge. I wake whenever he is near. He has noticed it, though he's forgotten my lingering glances." She touched me again. "Latro darling, you say Myt-ser'eu is your wife. She's a drunken wanton, as you must know. Suppose-only suppose, Latro darling-that she said she wanted no more to do with you and wished to leave. What would you do?"

  "Bid her farewell," I said, "and see that she took nothing that did not belong to her when she left."

  "Well spoken! You are a man indeed. May I have another supposition, darling?"

  I nodded. "If you wish it."

  "Then suppose that she had a certain box, a box given her by you, but a box that both you and she had called hers the whole time she was with you. Would you permit her to take it when she left?"

  "Certainly," I said.

  Sabra's laugh was music, soft and sweet. "One more. I may have another, I hope? Myt-ser'eu, who has been with you as your wife for all the time I have known you, is a woman of no family. Let us suppose you were minded to take a second wife, as a replacement for her or in addition to her. Which one doesn't matter. Let us further suppose that this second wife, too, was of no family. Would you reject her on that account?"

  "No," I said, "not if I loved her."

  Uraeus asked, "Do you love Myt-ser'eu, master?" and I assured him that I did.

  "He is your slave," Sabra told me. "I will be more than a slave to you. I will anticipate your wishes and leap to obey. I will do everything you ask, no matter how distasteful. You may retain your first wife, and lie with her whenever the desire seizes you. No lightest word nor glance of mine shall reproach you, and should you wish me to fan you both, or do any other such service, I will do it gladly. I ask but one very small service in return, something you can do for me tonight and be done with."

  I was curious and asked what it was.

  "Cut the cord
that holds her amulet, and cast the amulet into the river."

  Sahuset sighed. "Shall I explain?"

  I said I wished someone would.

  "These images must be fed. One feeds them by anointing them with the blood of the thing they represent."

  "She sleeps," Sabra hissed. "I swear no harm-"

  "Latro?" It was Myt-ser'eu, with Uraeus at her side. "Have you been talking about me?"

  I said that Sahuset and I wished to protect her, and had been telling Sabra that she must not harm her.

  Myt-ser'eu was asking who Sabra was when a new voice, rich and soft and of the night, interrupted her.

  21

  BETESHU

  THE SPEAKING PANTHER interrupted Myt-ser'eu, as I have said. I myself was interrupted in writing of it by the scribe of my commander. We were to wait upon the sagan. I went, but brought with me the leather case in which I carry this scroll and my writing materials. Now we sit in the forecourt of his house: Qanju, Thotmaktef, Sahuset, my friend the captain, and I. I have opportunity to write. We may wait all day, the captain says, and frets, because of it. I do not fret, because I have things of importance to set down. When I have done it, I will read this.

  "Great Seth speaks," Beteshu told us. His voice, which is otherwise deep but soft, stung like a whip when he said it. "Lucius the Roman has his favor. Sahuset of Miam has his favor. They are to come to his temple and remain until dawn. Hear the words of the Red God."

  Sahuset bowed to the deck. "We hear, and will obey."

  Bolder than I would have thought her, Myt-ser'eu whispered, "Latro loves me. What about me?"

  "The Red God has not spoken concerning you," Beteshu the Panther told her. His words were black velvet, like his coat. "He saved you. Have you forgotten so soon?"

  Sabra said, "He will not have to protect her from me again, Beteshu. You have my word." It was thus that I learned the speaking panther's name.

  Beteshu said, "Wax is readily shaped. Shall I remain with you, Holy One?"

  "If you will come at my call, that is all I ask," Sahuset told him.

  "Then call when you will," Beteshu told him. Rushing waters flow no swifter than he. He sprang from our bow toward the pier. Here occurred a thing so strange that this pen of ragged reed stammers in trying to describe it. I saw him spring for the pier, a great black cat. But at the apex of his leap there was only empty moonlight.

  He is an evil thing, Uraeus says. I am less sure, and know that Myt-ser'eu thinks Uraeus evil and Beteshu lovely. "To stroke him would be like stroking you," she said, and kissed me.

  Must I describe him? I have no doubt he can change his shape as Sahuset has said. He is not so large as a lion but much larger than a cat. His color is the darkest black. His eyes are burning gold.

  Here is all Sahuset said. "I had a familiar, Latro, who took the form of a cat. Qanju leagued with priests of this land to drive him away. I implored the Red God to send another. He did as I had asked and sent Beteshu with him. Beteshu has been a servant of Apep's. The Red God won him and gave him to me. Apep is chief of the bad xu, a terrible enemy and a dangerous friend. Beteshu is very wise, but slow to share his wisdom. At times he appears to be a man, black and taller even than I. His eyes are not changed-that is so for all shape changers, so our sacred knowledge teaches. Man or cat, he is swift to slay."

  I said, "Then why do you not order him to kill this Qanju for you?"

  "Because I do not wish him to die," Sahuset said, and left me. MYT-SER'EU AND I are ashore in Abu. We ate in this inn with Muslak, Neht-nefret and Thotmaktef. Myt-ser'eu says the beer is better here than in the inn in which we dined last night, and Neht-nefret that the food is better. We danced and sang and enjoyed ourselves greatly. Myt-ser'eu and I made love and slept for a time. She sleeps still. I slept much while we waited upon the sagan, Muslak said at dinner. I am not sleepy now but thirsty and restless. My head hurts. I would mix wine with the water and drink a great deal of it, but there is no wine here, only bad-smelling water from the well. I write by the first light of the sun in the garden.

  The sagan was a man of Parsa with a scarred face. Qanju gave him the letter of a prince. He will give Qanju a letter from the governor to the Nubian king, and send a man with us. The man has not come, nor is the letter prepared; thus we must wait in this city.

  Earlier I wrote that the panther called me Lucius the Roman. This is of great importance if it is true. I must ask Sahuset and Muslak. I asked Myt-ser'eu when we returned to the ship. She says that the river we sail empties into the Great Sea, and that Muslak sailed on that sea to bring me to her land. This land is Kemet. I asked whether all the nations of the world were named for colors, as hers is. She says there are only two, and an island named for the rose. She once knew a man from this island. I asked what other land was named for its color. It is the desert, the Red Land. The Red God, she says, is god of that land. She is afraid of him, and she should be. There is no water in the desert and nothing grows there. It is a land of dust and stones, of sun and wind. I do not know when I was there, yet feel I have been there-and suffered there as well.

  This is not so strange as Beteshu the Panther, but it is strange nonetheless, and I should set it down. The landlord lit our way to the chamber we had rented for the night, and left the lamp with us when he bid us good night. (This is the custom.) Myt-ser'eu blew out the lamp before taking off her gown. Later, when I woke, it seemed to me our lamp had been of silver, formed like a dove. I thought it strange that an innkeeper should leave such a valuable lamp with his guests. I rose and examined it with my fingers, and at last carried it to the window to see by moonlight. It was a common lamp of clay. Anyone may buy a score of such lamps in any market for a few coppers. Who visited us, bringing a silver lamp?

  At dinner Thotmaktef talked of this city. "Abu is the gateway to the lawless south," he said, "the last civilized town below the first cataract."

  Muslak said, "I hear there's a canal."

  "There is," Thotmaktef told him, "I believe we will have to pay to use it."

  Muslak nodded. "Fee for the city and hire oxen to pull the ship. Qanju will attend to all that."

  Myt-ser'eu said, "I saw a woman today as black as my wig."

  We had all seen black men, although I did not say so.

  "All the people of Kush are as black as your wig," Thotmaktef told her, "and they rule here."

  I said, "They are good bowmen-as good as the men of Parsa."

  Thotmaktef nodded. "When my nation was in its glory, we enlisted mercenaries from Kush and Nysa by the thousand for that reason. Our own men are as brave as those of any nation, and we are the oldest nation and the best, but-"

  Neht-nefret said, "What's this about Nysa? I thought we were going to Yam."

  "We are going as far as the river will take us." Thotmaktef smiled. "And it will certainly take us deep into Nysa-my master told all of us that some time ago, and you should have listened. Of course, it may require a year to get there."

  (Myt-ser'eu had been holding my hand beneath the table; I felt her grip tighten.)

  "You'll drive my wife off," Muslak complained.

  "If she's going to interrupt me, I would just as soon drive her off."

  "He's angry because you have a river-wife and he doesn't," Neht-nefret told Muslak. "I've seen this kind of thing before."

  "Then he'll be angry at Latro and me too," Myt-ser'eu said. "Are you, Thotmaktef? What harm have we done you?"

  "None." Thotmaktef smiled again. "No doubt Neht-nefret's right. But I'll offer you both a morsel of good advice. You must learn to be kind, and polite, to those who have money. Suppose Latro were to cast you off because you interrupted him too often. Do you interrupt him?"

  Myt-ser'eu shook her head. "Only when we're playing."

  "Then you have little to fear. And of course he cannot store up such slights as Muslak can. But suppose he did. You would need another protector, and neither his soldiers nor Muslak's sailors would do. They haven't any money. My master is too old, I thi
nk. That leaves Sahuset, the Hellene, and me? Can you think of others?"

  Neht-nefret began, "If you-"

  Thotmaktef interrupted her. "You might try to join the women of the town, of course. That is to say you might try if we were in a town when your present protector beat you soundly and told you to go. They would stone you, wouldn't they? There are too many such women already in most towns, and too few men who want them."

  Myt-ser'eu said very softly, "I would go to the temple of Hathor. So would Neht-nefret."

  Thotmaktef nodded. "There may be one here. Certainly you might look. I very much doubt that there are any left south of the cataract."

  A stout, middle-aged man whose curling hair is starting to gray had come in. Neht-nefret waved to him. "Join us, Noble Agathocles! There's plenty of room for you."

  He brought up a stool, sitting between Neht-nefret and me. "I didn't see you over here," he told me in a new tongue. "You don't mind?"

  I spoke in that of Kemet. "You're very welcome here, but you'd better talk like this or the others may think we're plotting."

  "They have river-horse meat here," Neht-nefret told him. "Can you imagine? Just like our king used to eat in the old days. We never got that in the delta."

  "I've never eaten it," Agathocles said.

  "Neither have we, but we all ordered it. It's supposed to be delicious."

  Thotmaktef said, "I hope it really is river-horse, and not pork." Looking straight at Neht-nefret he added, "Sahuset eats pork. He told me."

  Myt-ser'eu said, "They eat sheep's flesh in that place downriver where the wolf-god was."

  "He is Ap-uat," Thotmaktef told her, "and his city is Asyut. They do indeed. They do, but I do not. What about you, Neht-nefret?"

  "Certainly not!"

  "But pork, of course. You eat pork?"

  She shook her head violently.

  Agathocles said, "Well, I do. Or I have, back home."