Read Soldier of Sidon Online

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

Soldier of Sidon (9 page)

"Yes," I said, "this time."

"I was not," he told the scribe.

"Where were you?"

Uraeus shook his head. There is something eerie about that, as I wrote earlier.

The scribe rose, wiping his palms on his thighs. "Lucius, will you order your slave to answer my questions?"

"No," I said. "Ask them of me, and I'll ask them of him if I choose."

"All right. There may not be many, and I'll ask this one of you. Will you please, as a favor to me, ask him to go over there under the hatch, where the light's better?"

I did.

"Now will you, as another favor, have him raise his chin?"

"Lift your chin," I told Uraeus. "There can be no harm in letting us see your neck."

He did. When I saw how wrinkled his neck was I knew he was older than I had thought.

"I was looking for a scar." The scribe seemed much more relaxed. "There isn't any."

I agreed.

"You said he'd been down here earlier alone, didn't you? Would you ask him whether he saw the cat--a huge black cat--or the woman down here then?"

I turned to Uraeus. "Did you?"

"No, master."

"Neither one?"

"No, master."

"Thank you," the scribe said. "I thank you both. A loyal slave who will hold his tongue is worth a great deal, Lucius. I congratulate you."

We watched the scribe climb the ladder to the deck, and I motioned for Uraeus to sit again. When we were both seated I said, "You understand that a great deal better than I do, I think. Probably better than Myt-ser'eu does, too. Explain it to me."

"No, master. Less than anyone, I fear. I had not heard of the cat until Thotmaktef mentioned it to us."

"But you had heard of the woman."

"Because I did not say I had not, master? No, no one had spoken of her to me. Do you wish to see her?"

"If you can show her to me."

"Then come, master." He led me to a bundle as long as I am high, a box wrapped in canvas and tied with rope. "She is in here, Master."

"Perhaps we shouldn't untie that," I said. "It doesn't belong to us, and there can't be a woman inside."

"I will not untie it, master." Uraeus looked up at me. I doubt that he ever smiles, but there was amusement in his slitted eyes. "Watch. I will show you this woman."

He lifted the lid without difficulty. The wax figure of a beautiful woman lay in the box. "I found this while hunting rats, master. I have an instinct for such things."

I was examining the wax figure. I lifted it, finding that my fingers thought it a real woman of blood and flesh, and laid it back in its box.

"Would you like to hear it speak?"

I shook my head. "I can easily believe that people have been deceived into thinking this wax woman real. Is that what you mean?"

"It is real, master. A real woman shaped of wax. If you change your mind and wish to hear it speak and see it walk, you and I might force the warlock to animate it, I think."

12

I WAS AFRAID

"
ARE YOU TALKING
about our commander, Uraeus?" I returned to the boxes on which we had been sitting. "That little old man from Parsa?"

"No, master." Uraeus joined me, bringing the lid of the wax woman's box. "Qanju is a Magi. Holy Sahuset is the warlock. He is a man of my own nation."

"The healer."

"Sahuset may heal at times, master. I do not know."

"He can make that figure walk and talk? That's the woman the scribe was talking about?"

"Yes, master. Even by day, perhaps, although those who saw her in Ra's golden light might not be deceived. By night he can, certainly. And in dark places, too, or so I would guess."

"Can you do it?"

To that question, Uraeus shook his head; if I had not been unnerved already, that would have done it.

"You are no common man," I told him. Like so many frightened men, I spoke too loudly.

"There are no common men," he whispered. "Only
men others consider so. You yourself are not among those, master."

"I suppose you're right."

"Nor are there common women. Your Myt-ser'eu is no common woman, and neither is Neht-nefret. No more is Sabra."

I asked who Sabra was, and he pointed to the wax figure. "It is a trick known to many, master. The wizard makes an image and causes the image to live for a time. I know you forget many things, but if you have seen a staff carved to resemble a serpent, you may remember it."

"Perhaps I have seen such staffs," I said, "since I feel sure that seeing a staff like that would not surprise me."

"Warlocks have them, master, and anoint them with the blood of serpents. They throw them down, and the wooden serpent lives for a time. I fought such a serpent once." Uraeus does not smile, or so I believe; but he came near it then. "The trick is easily done, and the box that surprised you easier still. Do you not wish to examine this lid?"

I carried it to the sunlight under the hatch; its canvas and ropes had been glued to the wood.

"The ends of these ropes touch the ends of the others, master," Uraeus explained. "The cloth to which they cling has itself been glued to the lid. One must look carefully in Ra's light to see it as it is."

I nodded, mostly to myself. "The healer must have brought this to our ship after dark. It's just a trick."

"They are all tricks, master. None but the gods work miracles."

"I'm surprised the lid didn't fall off while the box was being loaded. Do you know how he kept it on?"

A new voice, low and haunting, said, "You hold the answer."

I turned, and saw the wax woman sitting up in her box.

"Would you like this back?" I asked. I was still frightened, but I showed her the lid. "I suppose it's yours."

"You need not bring it, Latro." She rose. "I will come and get it."

This she did, walking slowly and gracefully, not in the least troubled by the gentle motion of our vessel. Can I ever have been as frightened as I was by the leisurely approach of that beautiful woman? Each fluid step shouted that worse than death may befall a man.

"Look here." She turned over the lid to show its underside. "Don't you have handles like these on the back of your shield?"

I mastered my fear sufficiently to confess that I have no shield.

"Men who flee throw aside their shields and leave them on the battlefield," the wax woman said. "You did not flee when I came to take this."

"Neither did Uraeus," I told her.

"He would not, only slither into some crevice." She smiled. "Do you think him your friend?"

"He's my slave, but I hope he bears me no ill will."

"He is no one's friend, save his master's."

Uraeus surprised me, saying, "This is my master now, Sabra. His is the blood of Osiris."

"What? Your chill ichor warms to him?" The wax woman's laugh was low and soft. "May I sit by you, Latro? There's plenty of room."

I told her she might, rose while she sat, and resumed my seat when she had settled into place. "You are not wax," I said.

"Thank you, kind Latro."

"Your breasts moved as you sat. Wax would not do that."

"My mouth moves when I speak to you. Would wax do that?"

I did not know what to say.

"We've met before, you and I, though you have forgotten me. I came to your inn to guide you and your little singing girl to my master's house."

I said, "That must be why I'm not afraid of you," although I was terribly afraid of her.

Uraeus whispered, "Did your master come here to animate you, Sabra? Can he walk unseen?"

"Oh, sometimes." The wax woman smiled. "No, Serpent of Sesostris, he did not. He would be angry to learn that I walk and speak here."

Uraeus's eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, and it seemed to me his neck grew longer, as a turtle's does. "Who has animated you?"

The wax woman ignored his question. "You do not have your sword tonight, Latro."

"It isn't night," I told her, "and I gave my sword to Myt-ser'eu while I wrestled."

"I pray Great Ra excuse me, though he is no friend of mine. I am accustomed to the night. Possibly you fear that I have some weapon concealed on my person?"

"You may keep it if you do," I told her.

"Thank you. In the same spirit of friendship, you may search me for a dagger." Her hand found mine; it was warm, smooth, and soft. "Wouldn't you like to look under my skirt?"

"No," I said. "By your own account, you belong to Sahuset. He has done me much good."

"He risked your life to make himself great. Shall I tell you?"

"If you wish."

Uraeus whispered, "You speak of what you cannot know."

"Oh, but I do! He told me. Everyone must have someone to boast to." The wax woman's voice was low, dull,
and throbbing, but strangely distinct. "Your master boasts to his singing girl, I'm sure. Sahuset boasts to me, and I to your new master. To whom do you boast, Serpent of Sesostris?"

Uraeus only hissed in reply.

"I do not fear you. Latro will not harm me, and you cannot poison me." The smooth little hand squeezed mine. "He drugged you, Latro. Write that in your scroll when you come to write. The drug often brings death. When it does not, it brings him who takes it near unto death. The breath slows and weakens. Would you feel my breath?"

"Do you breathe?" I asked.

"I must, to speak. Kiss me, and you will feel it."

I shook my head.

"I will tell you more. Then you will send your slave away, giving him no tales to bear to--whom? Your singing girl? She would thank me for saving her so much night labor."

That was untrue, and I knew it.

"You and she sat beneath a tree on the green hillside before a temple. My master came to you with wooden cups and a skin of wine. He gave you cups and filled them. The drug was smeared on the bottom of your cup alone."

I sat in silence, considering what she had said.

"You do not credit me."

I shook myself. "I don't know what to believe. I have to think."

"You are still young, and the strongest man on this ship, yet you lay down to sleep. And died? No sword, no arrow, no fever, not even a cobra's bite. If you will not accept my explanation, how do you explain it?"

"I don't," I said. "Even the gods are not required to explain everything. What is it you want?"

"Your love, to begin."

"It isn't mine to give." I tried to soften my words. "Love can't be handed over like a stone. I owe you friendship, and I'll try to be your friend because you've been mine."

"If you are my friend, will you get me what I want? And need? What I must have?"

Frightened again, I only shrugged.

"Myt-ser'eu's blood. Or Neht-nefret's. It doesn't matter which. But quite a lot of it, not just a few drops."

Uraeus hissed softly. I suppose it was meant as a warning to me, although I did not require it.

"No." I struggled to sound firm. "I won't get anyone's blood for you unless you'll take the blood of beasts."

"Latro, I cannot." Tears trickled from both eyes, streaking her cheeks. "I must have the blood of such women as they. Reconsider, please."

"You spoke of love," I told her. "I love Myt-ser'eu. Neht-nefret is her friend, and my friend Muslak loves her."

"He does not."

"So you say." I shuddered. "No! I won't do it."

"I know all Sahuset's secrets. I can make you great among the xu, and will if only you will get me the blood I need. Myt-ser'eu cannot do that."

I laughed to hide my fear. "My greatness is to begin with betrayal? Will they set up a statue in the forum for that? Well, I suppose they might."

"You'll do it?" She squeezed my hand.

I shook my head. "If betrayal is the price of greatness among the xu, it's too high."

"Then give me back my roof."

I picked up the lid and handed it to her.

"I am a good friend, Latro, but a terrible foe. In days to come you shall learn the truth of that."

Uraeus whispered, "Kill her, master!"

"How do you kill something that isn't alive to begin with?" I asked him. "Burning her would sink us."

"Cut off her head. Now!"

She laughed at him.

"I don't have my sword," I told Uraeus, "and I wouldn't do it if I did. She isn't mine."

"Yet you will be mine someday." Holding the lid above her head, she lowered herself gracefully into her box. Now I write of that, and the other things, because I know I forget. Sometimes it is good to forget and feel no fear. Yet the time may come when I will have to know these things. If Uraeus does not tell me of them, this papyrus will.

13

THE WOLF-HEADED GOD

AP-UAT IS THE
god of soldiers. So says Aahmes and all the soldiers of Kemet. We went to the Magi and explained that we wished to make offerings to this god at his city, Asyut. He shook his head. He is under strict orders to make haste, and would not order our captain to stop there. We protested and he said that we would be free to make any offering we wished if we tied up there tonight. We asked for gold, which we might offer or use to buy a suitable offering. He said what gold he has was not his own but the satrap's, which he could use only for the satrap's purposes.

We went to the captain. He is a Crimson Man, and Myt-ser'eu says he is Muslak, our friend and Neht-nefret's special friend. He said we would pass Asyut about noon. My soldiers grumble at this. I have a little money and would use some of it to buy an offering, but of what use is that if we cannot go to the temple?

I HAVE BEEN
speaking with the healer. He asked what was troubling me. "I slept," I said. "Myt-ser'eu says I
never sleep by day. She and I were sitting in the shade of the sail. At times we spoke. At others we kissed. At still others we were silent, happy to be in each other's company."

"I understand," he said, and sighed deeply. "You forget, Latro. Because you do, I am going to tell you something. You must tell no one today, and tomorrow it will be gone and others will have to tell you who I am."

"I understand," I said. "I wouldn't have known you for a healer and my friend Sahuset if she had not told me."

"Just as you have Myt-ser'eu, so I have a certain woman. She comes to me when I wake her. We are lovers then, and talk, kiss, and embrace."

I nodded.

"It does not surprise you? It would surprise everyone else on the ship, I think."

"I have Myt-ser'eu," I explained, "and the chief Crimson Man has Neht-nefret. Both are beautiful. Why should you not have a woman also if you wish one?"

"When I do not wake her, my lover sleeps," the healer said, and it seemed to me that he spoke to himself alone, and would say nothing more unless I spoke. Thus I asked whether she slept by day as I had that morning.

"By day and by night." He clasped my shoulder. He is thin, but as tall as I and taller. "And yet, Latro, there was a night not long ago when she woke without my waking her and came to me."

He sighed again. "We were camped on the shore in tents, for there was no inn at the village where we had stopped, only a beer shop. I was in my tent and was thinking that I might return to the ship, carry her to my bed there, and awaken her."

He clapped his hands, loud as a shout. "My door-curtain was thrown back. It was she, and she kissed and embraced me. I was happier that night than I had ever
been, and that happiness has been repeated. There is an enchantment, Latro, on this ship, a spell I never wove. Perhaps it is Qanju's. I do not know. What was it you wished to ask me about?"

"My dream," I said. "Myt-ser'eu says I never sleep by day, but I died once by day while I was sitting with her beneath a tree."

The healer nodded to that, so it must be true.

"She thought I had died again and was terribly frightened. She woke me, but I remember my dream, or part of it."

"A frightening dream, from what you say."

"It was. Isn't there a wolf-headed god in this land? You're of it, and the most learned among us, Myt-ser'eu says."

"That god has many names," the healer told me. He recounted some of them.

I said my soldiers called him Ap-uat.

"Then we may call him that, so long as we keep in mind that he is the opener of the ways. When our army marches, Latro, it sends a few men ahead so that it cannot be ambushed."

"An advance guard," I said. "That is always wise."

"These are called the openers of the way. Often they see a wolf-headed man who walks in advance of them. Then they know the way is safe and the army will triumph. For that reason this god was on our pharaoh's standard."

"My men wished to stop at the city of this god," I explained, "so they might sacrifice to him before we reach the wild southern lands. We went to Qanju and explained this, but he would not stop there."

The healer nodded. "I see. Do you believe that this god sent your dream?"

"It seems to me he must. We spoke to Muslak as well.
He said that we'd be far south of Ap-uat's city by the time we stopped for the night, perhaps as far as Akhmim."

"Thus you come to me."

I shook my head. "Thus I sat with Myt-ser'eu, and slept. I was in a dark land in which there lay many dead. Slowly, a wolf that was also a man crawled toward me, dragging itself with its hands, which were its forepaws as well."

The healer listened in silence.

"Seeing it crawl, I knew its back was broken. No man and no beast lives long with a broken back. With a man's voice it begged me to slay it, to take its life and end its agony. I--"

The healer raised his hand. "Wait. I have many questions. Did you recognize this man who was a wolf?"

"Yes, I knew who he was in my dream, but I cannot tell you now."

"Yet you knew him then. Was he friend or foe?"

"He had been my enemy," I said. "I knew that, too."

"He came to you begging mercy, nonetheless?"

I raised my shoulders and let them fall as men do. "There was no one else."

"Only you, and the dead."

"I think so."

"Very well. Go on."

"I did as he asked." I showed the healer my sword. "I killed him with this, and quickly, holding his ear while I slashed his throat. When he was dead I saw his man's face." I paused to think and to remember the dark plain of my dream. "After that, Myt-ser'eu woke me, fearing I had died."

The healer took four sticks of crooked gold from his robe, made a square of their corners on the deck before us, and did and said certain things I will not write. These things done, he picked up the gold sticks, speaking a
word for each, shook them together, and cast them at my face.

I asked whether they spoke to him when they clattered to the deck. Angry, he motioned me to silence. After a time, he swept them up, shook them as he had before, and cast them again. "You are not telling me everything," he said when he had studied them a second time. "What is it you have not told?"

"I said
girl
as I cut his throat. Only that. I cannot explain it and it seems to me it cannot be of any importance."

"Girl."

I nodded. "Just that. The one word."

"You speak the tongue of Kemet better than most foreigners. Was it in this way that you spoke in your dream?"

"I spoke only one word in my dream. That one."

"Satet?"

"No, another word that meant the same."

"Bent?"

"I don't think it was in this tongue. It meant a tall girl, very young but tall and crowned with blossoms--meant that in my dream, I mean."

The healer looked out over the water. "We must stop at Asyut," he said.

He cast his sticks as before, nodding and humming over them, then cast them again. When he looked up he said, "You must not fear your dream, Latro. Ap-uat favors you. I want you to buy a lamb and take it to his temple. A black lamb, if you can find one."

I objected that the Crimson Man had told me we would not stop for the night where Ap-uat's temple was.

"If we do," the healer asked, "will you do as I have instructed you?"

"Yes," I said. "I will surely do it if I have enough money."

He nodded, as if to himself. "Myt-ser'eu will not have left you much, I imagine. Qanju has a great deal and may give you something if you ask. Wait."

He cast the sticks as before, whistled softly, and cast again. When he swept them up, he put them into his robe. "Anubis favors you also, as he has long favored me. Now he speaks to you through me. You are to go to the city of the dead. There he will give you more than enough to buy the lamb. You are not afraid of ghosts?"

"Of course I'm afraid of ghosts," I said, "what sane man isn't? But to what city of the dead am I to go? Doesn't every city have a place to inter its dead?"

"He did not say, nor did he say on which night you are to go there. When I spoke of ghosts, I meant only that many men are afraid to enter any city of the dead by night. Will you, knowing that the god commands you?"

"Certainly."

"Is your sword sharp?"

"You handled it," I said.

"I did not examine the edge. Is it?"

"Yes."

"That is well. Anubis wishes you to bring a sharp sword."

I write this while I remember. I have told Uraeus, who says he will go with me. Myt-ser'eu overheard us. She says she will come with me as well.

She says also that this god Anubis who favors me is a very great one, the messenger sent from the Lands of the Dead to the gods, and the messenger whom the gods send to the Lands of the Dead. He oversees the preparation of the body for burial, guards the tomb, and is invoked by everyone. I asked why he should favor me. She could not say, saying only that no one can tell why a god favors one person over another. Perhaps it is because his brother favors me.

Uraeus says we met, this Anubis and I--that he held the scales in which my heart was weighed. I protested that the heart cannot be weighed without killing the man whose heart it is. He conceded it was true, and vanished when I looked away. I wish to ask him more about the weighing of my heart, a thing I have forgotten.

A WARSHIP OF
many oars has stopped us. Qanju and Muslak have gone to speak with its commander. I feel sure that we will tie up at Asyut after all. I have told the men.

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