Eye of the Moon (16 page)

Then, unexpectedly, Naqada spun around and
tossed the monkey toward me. The crowd cheered and clapped. I clutched the small squealing bundle, not sure what to make of the moment. What would Naqada do next? He had known
exactly
where I was standing. A shudder ran through me at the thought of his eyes picking me out of the crowd.

Suddenly I felt weak. He had done this to show I was his target!

Under the silvery fur, the monkey's heart throbbed wildly against my fingers. Then in one violent struggle Kyky pulled free and leaped into the branches of a palm tree. I caught Naqada's horrible smile. I sensed the message in his eyes. I
wouldn't
go free. He clapped and ordered the musicians to play.

“Dance for us now, Anoukhet!” he demanded.

She looked at him with the loathing one might reserve for a writhing snake. Then she shrugged off the hands of her keepers and stood upright and defiant.

“Do you hear me? Dance!” he bellowed again. “Naqada demands it!”

In silence she took one step forward. Someone tapped a tambourine tentatively. It was the blind player. A lyre was twanged and then more lyres and tambourines, flutes and drums, joined in. Slowly at
first, then faster and faster, as if beckoning her.

She stood at the edge of the firelight with her hands on her hips, raking her eyes over the faces around her. Then she tossed her head and began her dance—every movement exaggerated, as if she were throwing her anger at the crowd. She spun and whirled and stamped and kicked until her body was a blur. When the music could no longer keep up, she threw herself forward and somersaulted over and over, faster and faster, around the circle of people.

The crowd clapped and shouted, not sensing her display was one of defiance and disdain for them all—but
especially
for Naqada.

Finally she landed in front of him so that the sand flew up in an arc. Her breath came in gasps and sweat glistened on her skin. She stood glaring at him like a wild cat. I bit my lip and prayed to Hathor she wouldn't do anything foolish.

Then she patted her jeweled dagger and spit into the sand at his feet.

For a moment I saw Naqada's hands clench and his eyes glint furiously, but then he threw back his head and laughed. Anoukhet turned away sharply and strode off.

   
15
   
THE HEAD SCORPION

W
e did as Anoukhet told us. We gathered water skins and goatskins and rags of wool and found leather boots as well. After the night of celebration and drinking, the people of the oasis were not too fussed about where they discarded their possessions. It was easy to find a pair of boots that fit and clothes that would keep us protected on the journey. Wherever we could, we stuffed our pockets and girdle bags with dates and
nuts and crusts of bread. I found a whole uneaten fowl lying in a dish of spiced sauce and wrapped it in palm leaves and slipped it into a saddlebag.

We were assigned no tents, so Tuthmosis and I found reed mats and pulled them up against a clump of palm trees at the place Anoukhet had suggested. Then we settled down to wait until the camp grew quiet and it was time to leave.

We whispered back and forth but soon Tuthmosis was asleep from exhaustion. I sat awake, hugging my knees to my chest, glad that we would be gone by dawn. Glad that Naqada would soon be out of our lives.

As time wore on, I began to get restless. The fires around us died down but still Anoukhet didn't come. As the shadows closed in, so my own thoughts seemed to close in as well. The smallest rustle above me in the palm leaves, the slightest movement of shadow, set my heart thumping. A feeling of dread came over me.

Where was she? What was taking her so long? Soon the sky would be streaked with light. Then it would be too late.

I leaned across to see if Tuthmosis was still
sleeping, then got up quietly so as not to disturb him and went in search of Anoukhet.

It was hard to recall which tent I'd been in that afternoon. In the moonlight the camp seemed different and the paths confusing. With the flaps down, the tents all looked the same. My footsteps fell silently on the soft sand. Here and there dogs lay growling at one another, gnawing at bones and licking platters. From a tent nearby came heavy sounds of snoring, and somewhere a baby cried but was soon shushed quiet again.

If I could find Kyky, I'd find Anoukhet.

But it was the outline of Naqada's hawk that I spotted first. It sat tied to its perch outside a tent, its feathers silvered by the moonlight. On the other side of the tent fabric came the sound of a muffled struggle. I stole to the side farthest away from the hawk so the bird wouldn't alert anyone and strained my ears. Naqada was in there—I could hear his voice and the sound of his laugh. There was a girl's voice, too, but it was muffled, as if something was being held, or had been tied, over her mouth.

It was Anoukhet. I was sure of it!

I slithered onto my stomach against the sand and
edged a piece of the tent flap slowly aside. I peered into the shadowy space and waited for my eyes to get used to the gloom. Against the tent fabric, I saw the outline of Naqada. He had his back to me and was leaning over someone. By her wild tousled hair and the tinkle of bracelet charms, I knew it was Anoukhet.

He had tied the neck scarf meant to ward off the terrors of Sekhmet so tightly over her mouth, she was barely able to utter a few grunts. Her wrists were bound behind her with the red ribbons.

“So you thought you could mock me in front of everyone? A lesson must be learned. Do you remember Seth, god of the desert? Can you remember what he did?”

Anoukhet shook her head from side to side and kicked her legs.

Naqada laughed. “Yes. I see you do. It was Seth who gouged out the eye of Horus.”

A strange sound came from Anoukhet. I felt my own breath pull in sharply.

I saw Naqada grip her more fiercely. “My hawk is waiting outside. All I need do is snap my fingers and she'll do my bidding. You've seen how it's done. You
should've known not to make a fool of me. You've been defiant too long. Now you need punishing. After this . . .”

His threat hung in the air. Anoukhet gave another muffled cry.

A blind anger rose inside me. It swirled like a sandstorm in my head until I thought I would choke. My jaw clenched. I slipped under the tent flap.

Over Naqada's shoulder I saw Anoukhet's eyes widen as she saw me. She gave a choked cry and then looked away quickly, to prevent him from following her glance. She made small anguished sounds. Her head strained and jerked in a certain direction. It made him laugh all the more at her helplessness.

I followed the direction in which her head moved. Lying just beyond her reach, on some goatskins, was her jeweled dagger. Its blade was unsheathed. Naqada had clearly wrestled it from her.

I crept toward the dagger with the stealth of a lynx creeping up on its prey. The goatskins softened any sound. I reached and clasped. Then with every muscle tensed I turned and sprang at Naqada's back in a rage. A sound more like that of an animal came from my throat. I gave no thought as to what I was
doing. There was no time to think . . . or know what I was planning.

I have no recollection of plunging the blade into his back. I meant to stop him. That's all. To hold it at his throat, perhaps. But in my fury, as the weight of my body fell against him, I brought the dagger down against his back.

The tip punctured his lungs. Found his heart.

He gasped. A low cry came from his mouth. His arms flayed backward, and he slumped down with his cheek against the reed mat. For a moment I thought he was trying to fool us. Then I saw how completely still he lay. I saw his dull eye staring unseeing back at me.

Blood flowed from his mouth, pooling on the reed mat. The silvery light had turned it black, and the black was everywhere. Spattered against the tent fabric. Running down his back. Seeping out from under him. My hands were covered with it.

Suddenly someone was at my side. I spun around, fearing the worst. But it was Tuthmosis. His face was a mask in the strange light. He tried to ease the handle of the dagger from my clenched fingers. I realized I was still clutching it and flung it from my hands. I
rubbed them against my tunic as if in the wiping I could wipe away all that had happened.

“I've killed him.” I stared first at Tuthmosis and then at Anoukhet. I waited for someone to say something, unable to believe what I'd done. “I've killed him, haven't I?”

Neither spoke. Tuthmosis eased me up. I was drained of all strength. My hands hung limply at my sides. My legs were slack; I could hardly stand. Tuthmosis stooped forward and dragged Naqada aside. He slashed the bindings on Anoukhet's hands with the dagger and cut the gag on her mouth. For a moment his hand rested on her shoulder. “Are you harmed?”

She shook her head and rubbed the marks where the linen had dug into her.

Tuthmosis nodded, turned to me. His eyes were flinty in the moonlight, his jaw hard-set. “He deserved it!” was all he said.

I thought of the heart that had beaten against my ear in the desert storm. I thought of it still and soundless now. I began to shiver. I hugged my arms to my shoulders and shook uncontrollably as I stared from one to the other. The three of us were bound
together now. Tuthmosis and Anoukhet had witnessed me murder a man. We were bound as securely to one another as if we'd pricked our fingers and written what we knew of one another in blood and then buried the papyrus.

It was a blood bond as strong as any I'd had with Katep. This was a secret we would have to honor.

Anoukhet stood up abruptly. Shrugged. With that gesture, she seemed to put it all behind her. She gave one last look at Naqada. Kicked at his legs. “Take his sword and his boots, Tuthmosis. They're fine leather and too valuable to waste on him.” Then she turned to me and put her hands on my shoulders. “You're not to blame. I would've done it—if he hadn't wrestled the dagger from me. He planned to set his hawk on me.”

There was a fearless look in her eyes. But all the same, I knew she thanked me.

We moved quickly then. There was no time for stopping. We gathered our things and found the old camel tender waiting with two camels, as promised. We left the glowing embers, the scavenging dogs, and the upturned pots, passed below the last palm trees, and galloped into the dark night with nothing but the stars reeling out overhead.

There was no longer any moon. What happened to it? Where was Hathor now?

We faced the desert, with Sophet low on the horizon and Sah the hunter and his three belt stars guiding us south toward the river. I prayed that these were enough. I prayed Katep would watch over me. I prayed the discovery of Naqada's body would come long after dawn—long after the Medjay finally roused themselves from their wine-soaked slumbers.

By that time we would be far on our journey.