Wraiths of Time (20 page)

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 moment 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?”

Sela's hands were close-clasped together. Now she twisted them as if afraid.

“Lady—they have come.” She seemed not to have heard Tallahassee's question.

Herihor? Jayta? Dared she believe that?

“Who have come?” She fought her own rising excitement. Sela's appearance did not suggest that any help had arrived. Instead, there was alarm in the wrinkled old face.

“Four of the greater Nomarchs, Great Lady. They have been summoned to council, yet the Candace is not here. In the Prince's name they have come because they are told that naught has been heard from our Lady for two days, and ill must have come to her from the desert storm! Great Lady, if this be true …” She was trembling so that Tallahassee set her arm about the bowed shoulders, led Sela to a chair and pushed her down upon it. Going to her own knees she caught the shaking hands in her own and spoke very gently.

“Dear Sela, if our Lady were dead—would I not know it? I have the Talent and so has she in some measure. Do we not then feel death when it opens the Far Gate for those we love? I swear to you that this has not happened. Be sure that the Prince General is using his forces along the border to find Naldamak and no men have more knowledge of those lands.

“But tell me, which of the Nomarchs have come to New Napata at such a false summoning?”

Sela's tear-filled eyes held hers.

“It is true, Great Lady—she has not Gone Beyond?”

“Would I not have told you, Sela, you who have loved and served her all her life long—who held her to your breast when she was but an hour old? You have been her mother-in-life. It is to you I would have first spoken had I such ill fortune to know.”

“She is my Sun-in-Full, my dearest heart—”

“That I know well, Sela—”

“When she was little I was her guard and her comforter, when she became the Candace she paid me honor, putting me first in her personal service, even though I was old and sometimes forgetful. Never has she spoken a cross word to me, Lady. And now—now they say she is dead!”

“But since she is not, we must prevent any such word spreading before they hold council on it. Which Nomarchs, Sela?”

Sela gave a last small sob. “He—he of the Elephant, and of the River Horse—”

“Both of the south,” Ashake memory supplied, “and those that rebelled a hundred years ago.”

“And the Leopard, the Ibex—”

“Of the west where the barbarians trade. I see. But the Lion, the Cheeta, the Baboon—they come not? North against south—west against east.”