Eye of the Moon (17 page)

   
16
   
INTO THE DESERT

W
e rode by the stars in silence—each with our own thoughts.

The old camel tender was up front with Tuthmosis behind him, followed by Anoukhet and me in disguise—dressed as men in ragged robes and long leather boots with woolen scarves about our faces to keep off the cold desert air, swords hanging from our waists.

The jeweled dagger I'd not been able to touch
again. But Anoukhet had wiped it clean against her thigh and tucked it back into its sheath at her hip.

The fact that I'd killed a man was trapped in my head like a buzzing fly. I couldn't shake free of it. Was it wrong to kill a man who was truly evil? I was tired, my head dizzy. Every part of me ached. I leaned against Anoukhet's back and allowed the roll of the camel's gait to lull me to sleep.

I woke with a jolt when the movement stopped. We had come to a standstill. The stars had disappeared and the sand was just beginning to gleam and change color in the early light.

The camel tender nodded toward an outcrop of rocky cliffs rising pale and chalky straight out of the desert. “That's what I've been heading toward. The cliffs will provide shade and protection when it's too hot to travel, while we wait for Ra to carry the sun across the sky. I know this place. There are deep crevices where we can hide from the burning sun.”

“From the Medjay as well?” Tuthmosis asked.

The camel tender nodded. “That too.”

“Scorpions of the earth! We'll fight them if they come after us!” Anoukhet spit into the sand from the height of the camel.

My throat was parched. The sun was just beginning to rise and dust dervishes were already whirling along the horizon. High above us two dark specks floated on the warm air currents. Vultures. Perhaps an omen? I thought of Queen Tiy's vulture crown with its sweeping wings, resting on its stand in Thebes, and whispered a silent prayer to the vulture goddess. “Protect us from the Medjay. Spread your wings over us.”

We headed toward the cliffs. They rose in long, fluted columns smoothed and twisted into strange wind-torn shapes with jagged edges and holes worn by scouring sand. Between them, a gap made a natural passageway.

We turned off the passageway and went up a rocky incline that took us into some deeper clefts. The camels planted their feet obstinately and started up a cacophony of moans. Urged on by the old camel tender, they eventually heaved us up with their splayed leathery feet spreading to get a grip, braying and complaining all the way. At the top he tethered them in the shade. They settled on their knees and were silent at last while he began unpacking the saddlebags.

Anoukhet fiddled with something under her cloak and tipped some water from a goatskin into her hand.
A pair of small, troubled eyes peeped out from a fold in the coat.

Tuthmosis gave her a sharp look. “You can't have brought it!” He pulled her cloak aside.

Kyky sat clinging to Anoukhet with a dark, surprised face.

“How can we travel with a monkey? You should've left it behind!”

Anoukhet glared at him. “What? Left her to have her eyes gouged out by Naqada's hawk? Or her body impaled in a frenzy of swordplay? Never!”

“A monkey needs feeding and water!”

“So?”

“Our supplies are limited.”

She gave a shrug, as if there was nothing to be done about it. “I'll give up some of my share!” Then she turned and sat, petting and stroking Kyky's head as she stared out across the desert.

Tuthmosis glared at her back, then finally sighed and turned away.

I walked to the edge of the precipice and looked out at the vast sea of sand stretching in all directions.

“Stand back from there, Isikara!” Tuthmosis commanded.

I gave him a look. He was jumpy. We were all jumpy.

We sat in a dark patch of shade where the crevices were so deep that in contrast to the chalky rock, the shadows seemed purple. We took small sips from the goatskin water bag and ate the scraps of chicken I'd brought in silence. From time to time I glanced toward Tuthmosis. But he wouldn't meet my eye. He seemed angry. Restless. What was he thinking? That I was a girl who had killed a man?

I glanced across at Anoukhet. She was silent and seemed oblivious of us. She tore delicately at the chicken bones with sharp white teeth, like a gazelle nibbling the leaves from a bush. When she finished, she held out her fingers for Kyky to lick, then wiped them on her robe.

Suddenly the camel tender lifted his head. He cupped his hands to the side of his face and focused far into the distance. I looked to where he was looking. There was nothing but heat wavering across the sand.

“What? What can you see?”

“They're coming.”

“The Medjay?”

He nodded.

Tuthmosis stood up to look. The camel tender pulled him down quickly. “Don't break the silhouette. Keep in the shadow. The Medjay have very good eyesight!”

I made a funnel with my fingers to focus on where he was pointing. All I saw were ribbons of swirling heat vapor, writhing and floating and dissolving far in the distance. I glanced back at him. “Are you sure?”

He pulled his lips into a toothless smile. “I've not survived all these years in the desert for nothing. My eyes see what they see. There are five men. All of them Medjay.”

“Five?”

He nodded.

Tuthmosis looked impatient. “How do you know they're Medjay?”

“By the glint of their swords.”

“Scorpions!” Anoukhet hissed.

I stared into the distance. I could hardly make out outlines, let alone the glint of swords. They were just shapes swirling and writhing across the horizon like trails of bleached cloth. There was no substance to them. Nothing anchored them to the
ground. They simply floated closer and closer, dissolving and reappearing like apparitions in a dream.

A feeling of dread came over me. Even in the bone-dry air I felt sweat begin to prickle and break out on my skin. I dared not close my eyes as I watched the shapes forming and reforming. “What will we do?” I whispered. “Can we outrun them?”

“Ha!” Anoukhet's dark eyes flashed at me from the shadows. “And let them see we're cowards? No! We'll fight them. We have our swords and daggers.”

Tuthmosis shook his head. “We can't fight them. They outnumber us. And if we make a dash for it, we'll never outrun them. With one man to a camel, they're lighter and will be much faster.”

The camel tender shook his head. “We must do none of those things.”

We all turned to look at him. “Then what?” I asked.

There was a canny look to his eyes. “I know the Medjay. I know how their minds work. They'll be in a hurry. In the mood for revenge. For an opportunity to slaughter. We have to outwit them.”

Slaughter!
A shiver ran through me. Visions of swords slashing, bones crunching, and blood spurting
everywhere came to me. I felt the hot stickiness of the word. The butchery of it. The blood seeping from it.

“How'll we outwit them?” Tuthmosis asked.

“By staying exactly where we are—hidden in this crevice high up in the shadow. We have the advantage. They have the sun blazing into their eyes. They won't pick us up in the shade. They'll pass through the passageway looking straight ahead, beating their camels in their hurry to catch up with us. They won't know we've stopped. They think we're on the run. Heading straight toward the river, by the quickest route.”

Tuthmosis seemed unsure. “It's quite a chance.”

The camel tender nodded. “Our
only
chance!”

Anoukhet shook her head as if we were all mad. “We must face them and fight.”

I glanced at her.
She
was brave enough. In her tattered cloak and shredded headband and long leather boots, she seemed as much a warrior as the Medjay themselves. But I knew
I
wasn't brave enough!

I turned to the camel tender. “They'll see our tracks. They'll see we've climbed up here.”

“What tracks? Look at the sand below.” He pointed to the passageway. “The wind has already
smoothed them away and the rocks show nothing of the camels' footprints.” He shook his head. “They're not following our tracks. They've come this way because it's the quickest way to the Great River.”

He was right. There was no sign of where our camels had walked.

“What if a camel brays just as they're passing? Can we tie up their jaws?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Camels like to chew. If you tie their jaws, they'll bellow more furiously.” He drew a leather pouch from the folds of his clothes and reached inside it. “I'll give them dates. They love nothing better than the sweet stickiness to chew on. That'll keep them quiet. Now get ready. Whatever you do, don't stand up. Don't break the silhouette. Stay in the shadow!”

“Ha!” hissed Anoukhet with exasperation. “We're cornered here in this crevice. Let's face them in the open.”

She began gathering her things together and wrapped Kyky in a bundle of cloth and handed her to me. I held her, not sure why I was being asked to.

The Medjay were closer now. The camel tender was right. There were five of them racing toward us
with their cloaks flying out behind them—all heavily armed. The image of them carved itself into my eye. In the vast, empty space where nothing else was moving, they appeared more menacing.

They were coming after
me.

I
was the one who had killed Naqada!

My heart thumped in my ears, mingled with the drumbeats of the camels. They were so close now, I could see the foamy spittle flying from the camels' mouths and hear the men grunting.

They entered the passageway. There was a movement at my side. I saw Anoukhet crouching like a leopard ready to leap—the dagger in her hand—waiting for the moment they would pass exactly below.

I tugged frantically at her arm. She shook me off. Suddenly, there was a blur of movement. I expected to see her flying through the air. But it was Tuthmosis who had flung himself at her. With a dull thud he wrestled her down to the ground, clamped a hand tightly across her mouth, and pinned her with the weight of his body. Then he tried to wrench the dagger from her. She thrashed and rolled and kicked and struggled beneath him.

They were still in the shadow but dangerously close to the edge. In panic I let go of Kyky and grabbed hold of Anoukhet's boots, clinging to her legs.

Then I glanced down over the edge. The moment had passed. The men were through the passageway and galloping away from us. The noise of their camels had masked the sounds of our struggle. My heart seemed stuck somewhere. I could hardly draw breath.

“Vixen!” Tuthmosis let out a sharp curse as Anoukhet kicked violently and twisted out from under him. There was blood dripping from his hand.

She leaned up against a rock, panting and glaring back at us, her breath coming in gasps, her hair tangled and her eyes glinting dangerously, her teeth and mouth blood-smeared. More wild animal than girl.

“Cowards! All of you! It would've been better to die than to do nothing!” She spit into the sand. “Curse you, Tuthmosis! Why did you stop me? I'd have killed them all. Killed the first one I landed on. Then taken on the other four easily.”

“You could never take on four men. . . .” But I was silenced by her withering glance.

“You haven't seen me! I'm deadly accurate with a
throwing dagger. And my sword would have finished off the other three!”

I stared back at her. Yes. With her wild animal face, I could believe she'd have finished them all off!

“I had it planned,” she said between her bloodied teeth. “How dare you, Tuthmosis! How dare you stop me! You think because you're the son of a king, you have to be obeyed. I'm
not
one of your slaves. I will
not
obey you! Don't
ever
do that to me again!”

Tuthmosis stood glaring down at her. “Don't ever
bite
me again!” was all he said.