Warrior of the Nile (The Gods of Egypt)

by Scott, Veronica

Gingerly uncurling himself from where the goddess had flung him, Khenet stood, conscious of the stunned gazes from the guards. “The lady has a temper,” he said, straightening his kilt. “I’d give her a wide berth if I were you.” Heart aching, he strode away down the corridor, hoping Nephthys would be content now, after her tantrum, and not trouble Tiya further.

  * * *

  Dawn found Khenet already hard at work after a sleepless night, inspecting the high-spirited chariot horses he’d been assigned, and going over every inch of the chariot itself. He rejected the first one the grooms rolled out, fearing the axles were too loose. The second one met his approval, and the men began harnessing the horses.

  He was about to send a servant to fetch Tiya when the lady arrived in the stable courtyard, escorted by Ahotepre himself. Tiya had gone back to her sensible everyday garments, wearing a plain blue linen dress, embroidered at the hem with whimsical yellow birds and red flowers. She was carrying her brown cloak over her arm and had the small embroidered sack of her possessions in her other hand.

  Sniffing the air, relieved not to scent any telltale lotus perfume, Khenet saluted the nomarch and nodded to Tiya, reassured to see that it was her, not the goddess. After casting a critical eye over the chariot, Ahotepre ran a hand across the closest horse’s neck and tightened a harness strap. Avoiding Khenet’s gaze, he said, “I find the hospitality I offered you has been sadly lacking, Captain. Commander Waset advised me you’re not only one of Pharaoh’s own guard, but a member of his family as well. I had no idea. My apologies.”

  Khenet decided not to take offense. He was well aware that despite all the time he’d lived among the nobility, he still in no way resembled a member of the royal family. “No apologies needed. An evening with my brother officers was hospitality enough.”

  Ahotepre nodded, seemingly satisfied, pleased to believe a warrior preferred the rough camaraderie of the barracks over dinner at his refined table. “Do you have all you require? Enough water? Arrows?”

  Khenet fastened his travel pack to the chariot’s side. “All in order, my lord. Your staff has provided everything I asked for.”

  “Good, good,” the nomarch said, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically. “We want the report to Pharaoh about Charging Lion Nome to be favorable.”

  Situating his war bow in the pocket designed for it on the chariot, Khenet clenched his jaw. The report I strapped to the pigeon’s leg at dawn may well be my last word to Nat. There’ll never be another unless Nephthys herself chooses to enlighten him, should I die as she commands.

  Tiya gave Ahotepre her hand. “Thank you for your hospitality, sir, and please tell your wife how much I enjoyed her company last night.”

  The nomarch took Tiya’s cloak and draped it over her shoulders, fastening the strings with a flirtatious familiarity that had Khenet grinding his teeth. “It was our pleasure to have your company and news of Thebes. I hope we’ll see you in Dendaret again.”

  After Khenet assisted her into the chariot, Tiya took a white-knuckled grip on the rail as the horses stamped and pranced. Calling them to order with a firm hand on the reins, he waited for a servant to tie Tiya’s embroidered sack securely to the side, next to the quiver full of arrows. Her small trunk was lashed to the railing on the other side. Then, lifting the reins, Khenet gave the team the signal and the chariot surged forward, out the gates of the Nomarch’s palace and onto the city’s main road. This early the only traffic was a few merchants’ oxcarts so he didn’t have to give too much attention to driving.

  Pale and wan, his lovely companion was utterly silent. He kept glancing over at her as he drove. “How are you today?”

  “Well enough.” Her tone didn’t invite conversation.

  He persisted. “Did you eat?”

  She rubbed her chest with one hand. “A few bites of fruit, a roll. I was too nervous.”

  “Will you get a headache?” he asked softly. How will I manage to care for her on the open road? He berated himself again for lack of foresight, failing to keep some of Taneb’s remedy just in case.

  She picked at a loose strand of leather on the chariot rail. “I don’t think so. It’s just—”

  “Just what?” he asked, foreboding like a heavy stone in his gut.

  “I woke up on the floor this morning.”

  “She left you on the floor?” Spurred by hot anger, his impulsive exclamation slipped out before he could stop himself.

  “What happened last night?” Tiya asked, barely raising her voice over the rumbling of the chariot on the road.

  “I was summoned to attend you,” he said reluctantly, stalling for time.

  “You were the last person I wanted to see. I have no memory of this.” She stopped, her eyes growing very wide, raising her hand to her mouth. “Wait, I-I thought maybe I’d dreamt it—did you kiss me?”

  Khenet grimly forged ahead. “When I arrived, you were waiting on the balcony. The moonlight was veiled and at first I didn’t realize it was Nephthys, inhabiting your body. I didn’t detect the scent of the lotus, perhaps because she had not yet cast your ka out of your heart. The goddess did say she’d allowed you to stay in your body while...while we kissed. I swear to you, the moment I knew it was her and not you—”

  “And what moment was that?” she said, her voice tense. “How far did this seduction go?”

  Anger and embarrassment rose up in Khenet, combining with his shame and regret. He wanted to curse Nephthys for poisoning the kiss he and Tiya had shared. “I’d never touch you if you weren’t a willing partner.”

  Tiya gave an unladylike snort. “But obviously I was willing.”

  “No. Nephthys in your body is not you, not the woman I—” He broke off, swallowing hard. “I refused her and I walked out. Well, she threw me out. You have to trust me.”

  She stared straight ahead. The irony of what he’d just said to her struck him full force, like a blow to the heart, given how he’d treated her after the incident in Zauimu. How many times had she begged for his trust and met with his cold refusals? And here he was, asking her to trust that he was a man of honor, that he hadn’t taken the pleasures Nephthys had offered. Why should she believe you, fool?

  They drove in silence for a few moments.

  “Anything I say out loud will be known to Nephthys,” she said finally, her voice neutral.

  He didn’t know what to answer. What was she trying to tell him? Was she talking about last night or the incident in Zauimu? Emotions in turmoil, frustrated and upset, he concentrated on driving. A team of high-spirited horses he could handle.

  “Khenet.”

  He turned his head. She still wasn’t looking at him but she’d stretched out her hand to him, inviting. Gathering the reins in one hand, hoping the horses would behave on this now—crowded stretch of road, he clasped his fingers around hers and hung on tight, like a drowning man.

  “Didn’t you predict a jarring ride ?” she asked, finally breaking the silence. “So far it’s fine.”

  “We’re on the well-traveled city streets. Wait until we hit the fork to the Viper Nome sometime on the third day. I’m sure the mountain road has fallen into disrepair from lack of use.” Reluctantly withdrawing his hand from hers so he could control the team, he let the horses break into a trot as they passed out of the city walls.

  “I can’t believe we’re going so—so tamely to our deaths, can you? Talking about the state of the roads like ordinary travelers.” Tiya stared at the grain fields they were passing.

  The note of desperation in her voice concerned him. Reaching over to pat her hand he tried to temper her mood without getting them both in trouble with Nephthys. “We’ve no choice, you know. We can only hope something will present itself, some chance to alter the destiny the Great One has defined. We have to keep our eyes open for any opportunity.”

  Tiya leaned
against the side of the chariot so she could see him. “I’m sorry to have dragged you into this.”

  “It’s not your fault,” he said. “Pharaoh offered me the task, and I could have refused. I’m glad I’m here.”

  She avoided his eyes. “How can you be glad?”

  He slowed the horses as they successfully passed the lead animals in a long caravan, and covered her hand on the rail with his. “I don’t want any other man to stand at your side. At least I have that right, thanks to your goddess.”

  Tiya raised her eyes to search his face. “Why didn’t we meet before? You came into Thebes with Pharaoh, didn’t you?”

  “I was with him the entire campaign, through all the battles,” Khenet answered, remembering the events with pride. He gave the horses their heads again and the chariot rolled faster over the road. “I don’t mingle with the court, being a rough-and-ready soldier.”

  “Which is an excuse,” she said harshly. “You give yourself too little credit.”

  Shaking his head, he steered the horses around a series of potholes. “Not in the eyes of the nobility.”

  “But you’re Pharaoh’s adopted brother,” she swiftly replied.

  “Do we need to discuss this again?” Khenet’s impatient exclamation was weary. “I know my worth and I know my place.”

  She studied him. “You create walls to keep anyone from getting too close. You hardly give even me a chance to know you.”

  * * *

  They did not talk much after that. The chariot was light, rolling easily, and they made good time, passing several caravans. Khenet walked the horses every few hours, and Tiya strolled beside him in good-natured silence. Sunk in dark musings she chose not to share, she politely rebuffed his attempts to lighten her mood.

  Close to twilight, they reached the first posting house. The yard was crowded and noisy, and they attracted a good deal of curious attention. For a moment Khenet thought he caught a glimpse of the same two men who had been watching them so closely on the docks of Dendaret, but when he looked again, they were not in sight.

  Tiya shrank against him as they made their way through the throng on the ground floor of the establishment. “Why do people watch me so?”

  “Can’t be helped. Women of your station don’t often travel this road, and certainly not with only one soldier as escort,” Khenet said in her ear. “You were sensible to dress plainly, but the fact we come in a chariot makes us an oddity.”

  “No other way to travel at the rate the goddess wishes, I suppose.” Tiya hugged her bag more closely to her body as a pair of cattle drovers jostled her.

  This late in the day, the innkeeper had only one room available, and it took a lot of Pharaoh’s gold to reserve it solely for Tiya’s use. Khenet ushered her through the throngs of people in the main room downstairs and up to the second level where she surveyed the scruffy sleeping chamber with an expressionless face. “Even the River Horse was cleaner than this.”

  “Not what you’re used to, I know.” Khenet set her small trunk on the nearest narrow bed. “We have to make do. I’ll sleep between your bed and the door. No one will bother you.”

  Tiya shed her cloak and ran one hand through her hair, scattering the pins that kept the curls more or less in order. “Do we have to go to the great room to get food? I don’t want to wade through the crowd again.”

  Khenet considered the question. “I do have to check on the horses. When I return, I’ll bring us both dinner. Don’t open the door to anyone but me. Will you be all right by yourself for a short while?”

  “I suppose so.” Her voice was low and a bit shaky.

  He put his hand to his belt and brought out his smallest dagger, watching her eyes widen. “Do you think you could use this to defend yourself if threatened?”

  Walking over, she held out her hand. Khenet laid the knife carefully on her palm and showed her how to grip it properly. With a firm clasp on her arm, he turned her toward him and mimicked stabbing himself. “This isn’t a killing weapon,” he told her. “The blade isn’t long enough nor does it have the weight to be truly deadly, unless you managed to stab your enemy in the eye. But tear at his shoulder as I just showed you, or the belly, and you’ll slow him down.”

  Miming the motion one final time, she nodded.

  “Good.” Khenet walked away, pausing with his hand on the door pull. “Can the goddess protect you?”

  Fishing blindly in her open satchel for her hairbrush, Tiya made a dismissive sound. “I don’t want to draw her attention, do you?”

  “Not after last night, but can you call her if a need arises?” Khenet craved any piece of information he could gather.

  Tiya dragged the shell-handled brush through her tangled curls. “I’ve never tried.”

  “All right. I’ll return shortly.” Getting into a squabble with her wasn’t going to improve the evening.

  Khenet had no difficulty making his way through the crowd after tending to their horses. It would take braver men than anyone at this inn to challenge or interfere with him. Juggling two mugs of beer and a plate of stew made from mysterious, stringy meat, he got back to the room as rapidly as he could. Two hard rolls sat at the side of the plate, soaking up gravy.

  Tiya let him in and walked to sit cross-legged on the narrow bed. She frowned as she arranged her skirts.

  He studied her face. “What happened?”

  “Someone tried the door. They didn’t knock, they didn’t answer me when I demanded to know who it was. I yelled through the door you’d be back any second and they’d better flee or die.” She grinned a little shamefacedly. “I was ready with the knife, just in case, but I cursed at them, repeating some of the things Taneb’s sailors said when they were digging the ship out of the sandbar. I probably sounded like a fishwife.”

  “Dramatic but effective. They may have decided this was the wrong room since no highborn lady curses like a Nile sailor.” He laid the plate on the bed, handed her a mug of beer. “I saw no one. He must have fled when he heard me coming up the stairs.” After chewing his piece of spicy meat thoughtfully, Khenet took a long drink. “I believe we’re being followed.”

  “Are you sure?” She picked up the roll and nudged at one of the slices of meat, frowning.

  “I recognized two men. I know they were loitering at the waterfront in Dendaret when we landed. Too much of a coincidence to see them again here.”

  “It is the main road, though,” she pointed out. “Why would anyone follow us?”

  “You’re a rich lady from Pharaoh’s Court. I’ve had to be free with the gold coins. They may think they can rob us.”

  She laughed. “If only they knew what they risked. Nephthys won’t deal kindly with anyone who interferes in our journey.”

  “She might not come to our aid for a mere robbery.” Khenet deposited another piece of meat on her side of the plate.

  Wrinkling her nose at the offering, Tiya pushed the plate away from her on the bed. “True enough. But do you think these men will follow us when we leave the caravan route and strike off for Viper Nome?”

  “I don’t know. I was told there are gangs of bandits in the highlands between the caravan route and the nome. We’ll have to go fast and keep a sharp lookout. I wish the Great One had permitted me to bring even a few men along to help protect you.” He sat next to her, picking the plate up and passing it under her nose. “This stew is not half bad. Try some.”

  She picked daintily at the chunks of meat. “I preferred the ship to this.” She waved her hands at the windowless room. “Do we have to stay at another one of these dreadful places tomorrow night?”

  “It’s safer. There are guards here to keep the general peace, and no one wants to risk the nomarch’s retaliation enough to openly commit crimes. Trust me, we’ll be glad of even this much shelter once we’ve hit the road for Vi
per Nome.”

  “How’s your wound?” she asked, changing subjects.

  “Wound?” He paused in the act of raising bread to his lips.

  Tiya gestured impatiently in the general direction of his arm. “The slash the crocodile gave you, when the boat went aground?”

  “Oh, that. Nearly healed, thanks to your quick treatment. I’ve always had the good fortune to mend rapidly.” Maybe that’s one of the blessings of being the Last Man? I never thought about it that way before. But why does she ask? Staring at her, he frowned. “Are you afraid I can’t defend you adequately?”

  “I was only concerned about you, as a friend,” Tiya said, turning away from him.

  Discordant music pounded from the common room below, drums and flutes and sistrums, along with shouts and chants. “I’m guessing the evening’s entertainment has begun?” Raising her eyebrows and putting her hands to her ears, she laughed.

  “I can’t do much about the noise. I’m sorry.” He sopped up the remnants of the sauce with one of the rolls.

  Pointing at the floor, Tiya grimaced. “I’m tired enough to sleep through even this. As you predicted, riding in a chariot all day is exhausting.”

  “Good. Go to sleep then if you can.” Khenet drained the last of the beer. “We’ll leave at first light, I promise.”

  “And you’ll be here all night?” Tiya didn’t look at him. She toyed with a frayed edge on the mattress. “You—you won’t venture downstairs?”

  “Nothing there tempts me. I have all I care about or need right here in this room.” Nodding at the mattress he had dragged between her bed and the door, he tried to reassure her. “I sleep lightly. No one will disturb you.”

  “Good.” Tiya curled up in the center of her small bed, drawing her cloak over herself and closing her eyes. Despite the loud music, she appeared to fall asleep instantly.

  Khenet sat beside her for a large part of the night, watching over her, thinking, trying to strategize a way out of their shared fate. A way to preserve her life, at least.

  “I would die for you,” he whispered, knowing she was too deeply asleep to hear the declaration. He fingered the hilt of his sword. “If your goddess miscalculates the least little bit in her schemes, I’ll save your life, I swear.” He moved to his mattress, leaned his head against the wall, and fell into the light slumber every soldier learns to summon when danger might be near.