Shiri (11 page)

The slave looked unconvinced as she
surveyed the man. He was a short thin creature on the wrong side of sixty and marked with the scars of some ancient battle. He seemed somewhat breathless after his speech, and had returned to leaning heavily on the gnarled staff that was near as old and thin as its owner.

“You have the look of a man more likely to break wind than heads.” Josef said. “I have no need of you.”

Solon laughed, but Akil seemed to take offence.
“Old Solon is the greatest weapon-smith in the empire and you’d do well to remember it, he means to accompany me.” Akil stated the fact as if it would sweeten the deal; everyone in the army knew Solon was a good man to count as a friend. “Give ear to his wisdom and you’ll learn much from Old Solon. He’s been schooled in the lore of the ancients and claims greater knowledge than
Imhotep
himself.”

“Your friend here gives you
high praise, lore-master.” Josef said.

Solon returned Josef
’s scrutiny with a wink and a nod towards the slave girl. “Pay no mind to young Akil, thinking is not his trade. There’s at least...” he chewed his lip, “Aye, at least two greybeards in the Upper Kingdom who claim greater knowledge of the histories than I,” he paused, “though now that I think on it, Old Rahotep of Akhmin is dead three years past and I wouldn’t put too much faith in what you hear from that dolt Herben.”

Josef considered
the duo, the larger his entourage on arrival at Heliopolis, the greater the chance that his plan would be a success. Besides, to reject their offer would no doubt give rise to suspicions. He met Akil’s eye. “Very well,” he said. “But you’ll have to provide for your own transport, I have only enough here for the slave and myself. By means of payment I offer the same as what you’re receiving in your service to Pharaoh, and your scholarly associate as merely a travelling companion will of course be unpaid. The choice is yours take it or leave it.” He half hoped they would leave it.

Akil frowned, “You offer less than we
’re worth ... still we can take the remainder off your bedslave, she’s a decent enough shape to her, though she hides her face.” He moved forward to give her rump an exploratory squeeze. Shiri drew back from him as if he was on fire.

Josef stepped in between them.
“You will not,” he said curtly. “I’ve told you the rates. The slave is to be touched by nobody but me.”

Akil glanced at Solon. If he had said it to test the bowyer
’s theory Solon wasn’t sure, perhaps he just wanted to get the best deal he could. “So be it,” he said. “We’ll be ready to leave in an hour, once we’ve packed, and you’ve notified the watch commander. I don’t wish to be branded a deserter.”

Josef nodded by way of confirmation. As the two men left to make their preparations he turned to Shiri, who looked decidedly nervous. “We’ll have to travel with Gyptos now?” She edged closer to him and before she realised what was happening he’d taken her hand in his. He gave it a little squeeze. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Believe it or not, not all Gyptos need to be feared.”

“I do not fear them,” she met his eye. “I hate them.”

Solon observed the pair through a slit in his tent. Though too far away to hear the conversation, it was clearly one far too caring for a new won slave and her harsh master, he scratched his beard. They were lucky the camp was full of lackwits and dullards who between them would struggle to find sand in a desert. He smiled.
Pretty rascals indeed.

III

It was past noon before they moved out. Pharaoh cared little for Akil’s comings and goings, he’d told Lord Yuya he could take a
ghaffir
after all, but he’d not taken kindly to the news that Solon was abandoning him. But claiming an onset of gout, Solon had remained adamant that he couldn’t see out the campaign and Tuthmosis eventually relented.

Shiri traced a finger over the shapes on the rag paper Josef had given her, glancing at him more than a few times as he guided their donkeys over the well rutted track towards the Pass of Gilboa. He knew his business and they made good progress. The land was all but deserted and those few wanderers they did see gave them a wide berth. Akil
’s imposing armour and scowling features made sure of that.

Burnt village and ruined farm made for grim viewing and Josef
’s mood seemed to grow darker. A company of mounted rangers came across them in the twilight hours and demanded what business they had so far from the army. The rangers had been busy, that was plain enough. They wore the mark of the Co-Regent and behind them, two score new won slaves filed passed; children no older than eight or ten years for the most part.

‘
Firstborns,’ the captain explained. Some bore evidence of hard treatment, many had been stripped naked and were sobbing inconsolably, but most trudged forward in silence, their eyes dead, their faces blank and expressionless. Amenhotep
was not content with stealing swords, he meant to steal lives too. Shiri shuddered, were it not for Josef, she may have looked little different. Josef sent the men on their way with naught but curt advice to keep themselves to their own business.

But the rangers did not venture much further that night, and as the sun settled below the plain, the winds of Jezreel echoed to
the clamour of drinking jacks, and the sporadic wailing of tormented captives. Josef had brought a healthy supply of heady northland ale and Shiri determined to match him mug for mug in the hope that it might drown out the screams.
Perhaps that’s why he’s drinking it too.
Akil seated himself beside the fire and set about a greased leg of mutton enthusiastically. “
Osiris
shows us the way,” he said merrily, pointing the leg to three stars in a row as they crested the mountains to the south.

She looked where he indica
ted and felt suddenly irritated. “Stupid Gypto, he no
Osiris,
he Shepherd of
Anu
”

A moment, Akil sat open-mouthed, then, he shook his head
, half laughing. “By
Thoth,
you best get a handle on your whore, Yuya. She deems herself fit to speak unbidden in the presence of men!”

Solon and Josef were hunched over a
Senet
board. Josef looked up briefly and shrugged. “They call the stars by different names in these parts.”

“Eh? What matter? If a man points to a mountain and says it’
s smaller than his cock, a slave will bow her head and not question it. Besides, all know it’s the great belt of
Osiris
, why the very Giants of Giza themselves are the very mirror of...”

“He Shepherd of
Anu
!” She looked at him as if he were something she’d just trod in. “Stupid Gypto, even baby know he Shepherd of
Anu
.”

Akil took a bre
ath, his eyes not leaving Josef. “‘Tis her impudence that’s the problem do ye hear? Unless she enjoys the lick of the flail, she’d best learn to hold her tongue ‘ere we get to Heliopolis.” He turned to Shiri, “Call me fool again and I’ll have the flat of my sword to your backside, and ‘twill be for your own good at that!” Instantly Shiri stood and cursing in her own language she advised Akil how to entertain himself for the night. Josef’s eyes widened, Solon laughed, and Akil furrowed his brow. He turned to Josef, “What’d she say there?”

Josef scrunched his shoulders.
“Your guess is as good as mine. I’ve naught but a few words of her tongue.” Solon laughed at that too and Josef cast the old man a doubtful glance before motioning for Shiri to sit. She came reluctantly, and not before offering Akil a surly look, and performing a quick back and forth motion with her wrist. They were slow these Gyptos and oft as not needed instruction.

Akil gawped.
“Why you ... you impudent little...” He made to grab for her, but a suddenly aggressive growl from Josef halted him. “You’ll remember the terms of our arrangement, or I’ll see you on your way. Nobody but me is to administer punishment to this one.”

Akil gave his lord an injured look. “What punishment will you be giving her then? Best stripe her back at least, and she
’ll to shut her mouth soon enough if whenever she opens it, you shove your cock down her throat.”

“Do you presume to tell a man how to scold his slave?” Josef said. “
She’s my girl and I’ll discipline her in whatever way I see fit, and in my own time.”

Akil glanced at Shiri who offered him a cheeky smile in return. Josef placed a hand on her shoulder as if to restrain her.
Something about the way he did it sent that funny feeling through her tummy again. ‘
My girl,’ what did he mean by that?
He must have moved closer then, for suddenly her thigh was touching off his. His leg felt hard and muscled against her softness.

She wondered if he would realise they were touching. She risked leaving the contact as it was for just a moment longer. The drink was making her bold. He returned to the game, exchanging a few quips with Solon. He hadn’t noticed.
Of course he hadn’t.
The old man was staring at her again. She raised a mug of foaming liquid to her lips and downed the last mouthful.
Let him stare.

Solon and Josef returned to their business. The old man had not been shy about declaring himself a master of the game and had been quick to challenge Josef to a battle of wits. For his part, Josef was well versed in the intricacies
Senet
and quickly had the bowyer on the defensive. Solon scratched his thin beard as he hovered over the board for what seemed like an age. He sent forth a wrinkled finger but paused and returned to his pondering. Josef laughed. “In war we do not always have the luxury of time, bowyer.”

Solon looked up after he finally made his move. “
I do not play quickly, youngling, I play to win, ‘tis a lesson folk in these parts would do well to learn. Take young King Jacobaam there ... too hasty by half that one, he should have waited and thought awhile before making his play.”

Josef’s mood seemed to darken at those words. “You either know your heart or you don’t, time will not change it.” He took another one of the old man
’s pieces. “This … Jacobaam, aye, he could have thought and waited for a year like you say, but it would have made no matter, the die was cast. He would still have risen against ... us. And well for him that he did, ‘tis better to die in battle than live forever in shame.”

Solon stared at the slave while he spoke. “Some of us would disagree no?” she looked up at that, dark eyes staring at him in brooding silence. Solon smiled almost sympathetically before moving one of his pieces deliberately slowly and turning his gaze back to Josef. “I believe that’s the game, youngling.”

Josef’s eyes widened, he’d blundered straight into the old man’s trap. Solon rose with a grin and stalked a path towards his tent. He paused and looked over his shoulder before he entered. “Does that heart of yours fancy a rematch on the morrow?”

Josef nodded by way of response. I
t had been near six moons since he’d been outmatched on the
Senet
board, and that by the Shepherd King himself.

Three weeks they travelled thusly, the terrain growing harsher by the day. Shiri had heard tell of the walled cities and rolling plains they passed, but never dreamt she would see them. Yaham was left far to the north, nothing but a scorched memory under the sway of a new Gypto governor that sat the high throne in Megiddo.

It grew hot. Soon enough grassy plains gave way to harsh dunes speckled with wiry bushes and huge half buried boulders; the Wildlands, where men knew no law but the sword. Josef said the red wastes stretched as far as the great south sea which lay somewhere beyond the horizon. When they sighted a pair of hardy acacia
trees, twisted and stunted by arid dusty soil, he named it as good a place as any to make camp. He passed her the water satchel and she gulped it eagerly before jumping down and setting herself the task of making a fire for the night.

The old bowyer was not a man to stress himself unnecessarily, so while the others raised makeshift shelters and fed the donkeys, he settled himself by Shiri’s fire and supervised their endeavours, occasionally advising them how best to go about their tasks.
Despite his much vaunted modesty, Solon was not slow at telling tales that revolved chiefly around Solon and soon enough he was regaling the slave with an account of his time in Nubia. Shiri sat slightly further away from him than was necessary, but found herself half listening all the same.

She cast the odd fleeting glance in her master
’s direction. They shared the same tent of course, but he ever insisted she have the thin mattress while he made do with the bare ground. Sometimes she wondered if it would not be fairer if they shared the mattress, there was room enough. She had meant to suggest it to him the previous evening, but for some reason when she went to say it her mouth had gone dry and the words failed to come.

Solon stoked the fire, “You see ‘twas in Nubia that I met the high priestess of
Isis
; a very knowledgeable lady,” he winked. “She determined to instruct me in the secrets of her sect, which is apparently the foremost authority on the lovemaking techniques of the ancients. I of course was a most studious devotee.” He looked at her curiously, “Do you believe in love, Shiri?”

The girl
’s eyes widened, surprised at such a direct question. For once she was glad when Akil took his place beside them. “Love is a disease, Solon, and you know as well as I that if you seek a cure, you had best look for it in bed.” He tossed Josef a jack of wine and in a glut of good manners handed Shiri a mug and some hard
millet
bread. She took them but offered him no smile of thanks.

The only one she trusted was Josef and she saved her smiles for him. The others were Gyptos and from what she’d seen of their kin, if he wasn’t at her side they’d be as like to rape her and leave her for dead as talk to her. The thought caused her to shift a little closer to him. As ever, he was hunched over the Senet board with Solon. In three weeks he was yet to beat the man, but the contests were getting closer and longer of late. She yawned and allowed herself to rest her eyes.

The night was drowned in stars when Shiri realised Akil and the old man had taken to their beds. A wild moon rode the skies and in the distance she could hear some night wolf howling at it.
Perhaps that’s what woke me.

“If I’d known you meant to sleep outside I wouldn’t have bothered raising the tent,” Josef said. She noticed a thin blanket was covering her.
He must have done that.
And worse than that, with a start she realised her head was resting on his lap, her arm wrapped around his back.

She sat up a little abruptly. Josef laughed and offered her his last piece of
millet
bread.
Why is he always so kind to me?
He didn’t have to be. He could order her to do anything and she ... she would have no choice but to obey. He could give her to Akil instead of paying him from his depleted funds.
He could ... he could do anything he wanted to me.

Instead, he slept on the ground while she had the mattress. He covered her in blankets to keep off the chill night air. He gave her the last of his bread. She knew his secret true enough. She could threaten to tell, but who would believe her? Nobody, that’s who. Fifty debens, a fortune, enough to buy four or even five slaves,
he’d wasted it all on me. Why?
Shadows cast by the dying flames danced across his features and she felt suddenly nervous. She took the bread and nibbled on it only half meeting his gaze.
My girl
.

“Your bruises are fading.”

“On the outside,” her eyes stubbornly refused to meet his. He shook his head. “Why is it of all the things they’ve done, those bruises annoy me the most? My father was killed true enough, but he died in battle having openly challenged Pharaoh. What did you ever do to deserve such things? What did any of them do?”

He’s talking about the slaves,
free folk of Megiddo and Jezreel that had wanted no part in his war, but would pay the price of his defeat all the same.
He feels guilty
.
That’s why he’s kind to me, nothing else.
She was the first slave he’d seen and he had bought her because of guilt. If he’d seen some other girl first he’d have bought her instead and she’d be sitting beside him now, eating his bread, tucked up in his blankets. The thought made her feel empty. She didn’t answer him.

“Shiri?” All at once he was leaning closer. Instantly her breathing grew shallow and she half turned her head to meet him.
Maybe ... maybe it was more than guilt, maybe he had seen others first but had chosen me.
Maybe ... maybe he thought me special, maybe he thought me pretty.