Authors: Gene Wolfe
Tags: #Fantasy - Epic, #Wolfe; Gene - Prose & Criticism, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Contemporary, #Fiction - Fantasy, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Historical, #Epic, #General, #Science Fiction And Fantasy, #Fantasy - Contemporary
Qanju nodded. "He may be helping one of their scribes, as you say. Such a scribe may know of him even if he is not. Go to Thoth's temples, as you suggest, and learn all you can. Lucius?"
"You have two problems," I said. "First, you must learn where Kames is. Second, you must free him. They will not sell him for gold. If they were willing to do that they would demand it from his father, who has it and wants him more than anyone."
Agathocles nodded. "That's obvious."
"Thus we must take him by stealth or by force. Have the Medjay good horses?"
Qanju nodded to Alala.
"Yes," she said. "The best. The people of the north buy them to pull their chariots, but our men sit on their backs. My mother has done that also."
I said, "Would you like to learn?"
Alala nodded.
"I have three soldiers of Parsa. They are all good riders, or say they are. I've listened to them talk, and they talk much of horses and bows. You have relatives among the Medjay. Do you know their names?"
Alala nodded again.
"You wish to visit them and to introduce your husband to them. The Noble Qanju, who treats your husband as his son, may send him and you to them, with the soldiers of Parsa and me to protect you. They may know where Kames is, and if they do not they will surely know where he might be. Your husband will have gold for them, and smooth words. If many take the Great King's gold to guard Kemet, they cannot be hostile to Kemet or the Great King--no man pays those who hate him to guard him."
Qanju nodded and smiled. "Wisely spoken. You would go into the eastern desert as you say? You, Thotmaktef and his wife, and three soldiers? Only six in all?"
I shook my head. "Seven. I'll need to speak with this Medjay woman often. Myt-ser'eu must go with us so there will be a second woman."
Now she wishes to ask more questions. I will write here again soon.
WE BOUGHT HORSES
today. The soldiers from Parsa were our advisors concerning their horses and our own; they are very happy now. Agathocles and Thotmaktef struck the bargains for us. If all goes well, Thotmaktef will sell these horses when we return to the ship and recover most of the money we spent.
Myt-ser'eu wanted my slave to come with us. So did he. Thotmaktef objected, saying truly that he had been given gold by Qanju for seven horses, not eight. Myt-ser'eu wanted me to buy a horse for the slave, whose name is Uraeus. I would not. She said, "If he had a horse--not bought with Qanju's gold--will you let him come?"
I saw no reason not to. Someone to serve us will save us work and time. Most significantly, a slave to serve us will maintain my standing with my men, which is always
important. I urged this to Thotmaktef, saying Uraeus would serve him and his wife as well. He was persuaded.
Having no carts and no pack horses, we cannot carry much. Weapons, and a few clothes. Myt-ser'eu is bringing her jewelry, fearing it will be stolen if she leaves it on the
Gades
. No doubt she is right, though Neht-nefret might watch it for her. For me--two pairs of sandals, a spare tunic, Falcata, the leather case that carries this scroll, and two blankets. I have bought boots. I could not find the kind I wanted--the kind that seems proper to me for a horseman. These are near it, however. I will wear them tomorrow.
We have seen Medjay on horseback, and Alala has spoken with them, while Myt-ser'eu, Agathocles, and Thotmaktef stood by. Their feet were bare. They carried spears and knives, and were mounted on horses I envied. Alala says they would not speak much concerning the mines, but they have pointed the way to her father's clan.
WE ARE CAMPED
among stones, sand, and grass, under the stars. We rode throughout a long day. When we made camp here, I did not know how I came to be here or who the others were. My wife had me read this. I have read, but found only confusion. I set down what I have learned from my wife, our servant, and the priest.
My bowmen are Baginu, Vayu, and Kakia. They are to obey me, and do. (I have tested this.)
The priest, Holy Thotmaktef, is our commander. I obey him. My servant says our commander often asks my advice. The tall young woman is Alala, our commander's wife.
My own wife is also young. I like both women, but like my own best. She sits close by, although she says she cannot read what I write. Our servant is the oldest man here and may be the wisest, too. He wears a hat like mine. My soldiers wear caps. The women cover their heads with shawls against the sun. I have a hat of striped cloth, like a bag without a bottom. The priest's head is shaved. He held a shade above it when the sun was high.
I wear a beetle of gold and enamel about my neck. Our servant says I must not take it off. Who would steal it here? Not he, or he would not warn me. The priest, who has already a bag of gold? His eyes say he does not steal. Kakia, perhaps. I must watch him.
The priest calls this desert the Red Land. He marvels to find it green in many places. I think it beautiful, though too dry for wheat or barley. With a pack of hounds and a few good horses, one might hunt here for years. There are high hills of broken rock, boulders, and--
A LION ROARED
, not far off. It frightened our horses and the two women. I have set a watch, each to stand for a quarter of the night, taking the first myself. I to moonrise, Baginu until the moon is high, Vayu until it is behind the hills, and Kakia to sunup. Tomorrow each is to watch earlier, Baginu taking the first and I the last. If a horse breaks its tether, our sentry is to wake me.
We camped here at my urging because there is water, though not much. We have dug a little pool for our use, and another, catching the overflow from the first, for our horses. Both overflow now, but the water is soon lost in the sand of the dry watercourse. My servant found pictures on a rock. They are old, I would say, but sheltered by an overhang so that they have not weathered. The priest's wife said her people made them, and that defacing them offends the gods. I would not have defaced them anyway. Men cast their spears at a beast with a long nose and long fangs. If there are really such beasts in this land, I would like to see one.
I found another place and scratched my name there: latro. Also a picture of our camp: the fire, the people, and our horses. We are six men and two women. My wife
sang and played for us. Now she sleeps, but the chill wind sings for me still, and the stars look down.
WE ARE SEVEN
men and two women--no longer as I wrote. What happened this morning was--
I WILL WRITE
and let the others talk. I listen to them, but write still. Myt-ser'eu says I forget what I do not write, and I feel she speaks truly.
When I woke I found I had slept with my head cradled in the hands of a black warrior who wore a plumed headdress. "You were not among us when I slept," I said. "Did Baginu welcome you to our camp?"
He laughed. I think I liked him already, but his laugh made me like him more, as I still do. It is rich and warm, a laugh that makes me want to laugh with him. "I go wherever I please," he told me, "and creep under the door."
"Then I must welcome you. We come in peace. Are these your hunting grounds?"
"Yes," he said, "but not mine alone."
At that moment one of the soldiers from Parsa came to me. "Who are you talking to, sir?"
I said, "I don't know his name. We have just met, but he comes as a friend."
"There's no one there!"
"What sort of sentry are you," I asked him, "if you can't see a man sitting before you?"
I found no name in me, but I remembered what my wife had called me; to the plumed stranger I said, "I am Latro," and offered my hand.
He clasped it as friends do. The bowman--his name is
Kakia--gaped at that and backed away with his war ax in his hand.
Uraeus came and bowed very low to the stranger, who said, "Greetings, Uraeus of Sesostris. Well met!" At these words Uraeus backed away, still bowing.
By this time the sun had risen. I apologized to the plumed stranger, saying I must have rolled upon him while I slept.
"It was a small service," he said, "to give one from whom I hope so much help." Everything he says is said in my own tongue, not in the tongue these people speak nor as my soldiers speak to me. But I scarcely noticed it at the time.
Our talk woke my wife. "Who is this, Latro?"
"A friend," I said.
He smiled at her. "Your tribe calls me the Good Companion. You are fair to look upon, little cat of Hathor, but you must wear your gown or come to harm."
She did, putting it on quickly, though it was wrinkled from the washing she had given it before we slept.
"Does this man guard you well, little cat?"
"Oh, yes! He's loving, strong, very brave."
"It is well you spoke so. You have my blessing, little cat."
"Thank you, sir." Myt-ser'eu bowed. (There was no hint of mockery in that bow, though I think such mockery must often be found in her words and gestures.) "You should bless him, sir. Bless Latro."
"He is already blessed." The stranger spoke to me. "My name is Arensnuphis, Latro."
I said, "Well met!"
"So you must speak of me. I have other names in other places and for other men, just as you do. I require your help. Will you give it?"
"Certainly," I said, "if I can."
"Latro must do as Thotmaktef directs," Myt-ser'eu put in hastily. "Holy Thotmaktef is his commander."
Thotmaktef came to us at once. It may be that he came because he heard his name, but I felt that Arensnuphis had brought him; I cannot explain this.
"I am Thotmaktef," he said, and bowed.
"I am Onuris," Arensnuphis said, and rose. He is two heads taller than I, and his headdress of bright feathers makes him appear taller still. His weapons: a net, and a spear as tall as he.
Now he speaks with Thotmaktef, Alala, and Myt-ser'eu, and I no longer recall our making camp last night or which horse is mine, though I remember that I remembered both these things not long ago. Thotmaktef wishes everyone to help Arensnuphis, and suggests many ways in which it might be done. He wants only me, and tells the rest in many ways that their help is not needed. He does not say how he wishes me to help him, but I know he will tell me when the time is ripe.
HERE WE HALTED
early because of the rain. It does not wet Arensnuphis, but he halted for my sake. I brought a little food, and there is water in plenty running from the rocks. I have drunk my fill.
Already the grass is greener.
He kindled a fire for me in the shelter of this great stone, a fire of dried dung, for there is no wood in this land--no wood at all. He bid me read all this before sunset. Now I have, beginning with Muslak, the ship, and the temple. I know now where I have been, though not who I am nor how I came to be as I am.
Arensnuphis stands upon one leg, on the hilltop in the rain. His plumes are not wet, and so bright that I can make out their colors from where I sit. He wears the sunrise.
We hunt his wife, Mehit, whom he must catch again and tame each year at this time. He wishes my help because I will see her among the hills though other men do not, a young lioness, shining and very great.
I have seen other gods, gods of whom I have read here. None could have been as fine as he, the Good Companion who kindled fire for me.
Set is god of the south. So I read not long ago. I am in the south, I think.
Twice today we saw black cattle. The herdsmen are dark, their horses of many colors, their dogs as black as the cattle they drive, sharp-eared as wolves, long-legged and very swift. They saw me and came toward me, then seemed to forget me and turn away. Arensnuphis did that, I feel sure. They do not see or wind him. He told me this. At his word they no longer saw me, and forgot me at once. So I believe.
WE CAPTURED HER
. I saw her pug-marks in the mud, and we tracked her many miles.
*
She was a lioness of gold, the most beautiful animal ever seen, and it was I who drove her into Arensnuphis's net, shouting and waving my sword. She could not understand how it was I saw her. I read it in her eyes.
This I will not believe when I read again. I know I will not, yet I write only the truth. When Arensnuphis had netted her, he drove his spear into her. She did not bleed, but rose and was a lovely woman as tall and dark as he, clad in a lion's skin. They embraced and were gone.
Her lion's skin she left behind. At first, I feared to touch it. When I touched it at last, it vanished slowly as a morning mist of gold, leaving a single hair that shines very bright. I have rolled it into this scroll so that I may find it another day and remember.
*
A mile was one thousand double steps as marched by a Roman soldier:
miles militis
. Thus it is close kin to words like
military
and
militia,
and to the given name
Milo
. The narrator actually wrote "m."