Dancer of the Nile (Gods of Egypt) (3 page)

 
“Unfortunately, no. Amarkash was anxious for them to be gone, whatever their errand was. But I promised to keep the kettle simmering for stragglers.” She shot him a mischievous glance. “I don’t think they’ll be eating it now, do you?”

He laughed. “Probably not. My name is Kamin, by the way. Thank you for saving my life.”
Inadequate words for what she did tonight but…

“I couldn’t leave you there,” she answered, eyebrows drawn together in a frown. “But we still have a long way to go to count our escape as successful.”

Surprised, Kamin glanced at her. “You’ve a level head for someone who’s been through what you’ve endured. How long were you with the Hyksos?”

“I lost track of time.” Keeping one hand locked tightly on the railing, she raised the other to her hair, smoothing it from her face. “Five days, maybe? An eternity.”

Five days of hell, no doubt. Having no idea what to say, Kamin paid full attention to driving the chariot.
 

***

He drove with consummate skill, avoiding obstacles she couldn’t even see in the moonlight, coaxing their best speed out of the tired animals. Nima held her cloak more closely and craned her neck to check their back trail for signs of pursuit.
I was so afraid the drugged stew wouldn’t work.
Small tremors passed through her frame, and she had to keep her jaw clenched so her teeth wouldn’t chatter.
I killed someone tonight.
No matter how many times she repeated the fact to herself, she couldn’t quite believe she’d actually committed the deed.

When her stepbrothers taught her knife skills, they’d made her swear if she ever actually needed to defend herself, she’d throw to kill. And she had, but the wet smacking sound as the knife had struck home had been awful. Knowing she’d taken a life, even an enemy’s, was a heavy weight on her heart.
But Kamin agreed I did the necessary thing. He’s a soldier. He knows what’s honorable.
 

Racing over a small incline, the chariot jolted as it landed on the other side. To keep her from being knocked out of the chariot, Kamin grabbed her close to him with his free arm.

“I’m going to have to give the horses a break, let them walk for a few minutes,” he said, his lips next to her ear. “They’re tiring.”

Biting her lip, she nodded, every nerve in her body screaming at the idea of slowing their headlong dash for freedom. Her head ached from the tension. “If you say we must. “

“They’ll run till they die otherwise. If I conserve their strength we’ll get farther,” he said, slowing the team gradually until the horses were walking, then pulled them to a stop. “I’m going to get out and lead them. You stay here, sit on the end of the chariot and rest. Your weight adds nothing to their burden.”

She did as he suggested for a few moments, dangling her legs off the tail of the chariot while he walked at the lead horse’s head, firmly holding the reins. Restless, she hopped off the vehicle and joined him, slipping into a little series of pirouettes, twirling and admiring the starry sky.
So good to be free!

“Your dance last night was a thing of beauty,” he said as she matched her stride to his.

“I’m a dancer. Dancing is what I do. I would have preferred not to give them the benefit of a performance, but Amarkash insisted.” Nima glanced at him for a moment, nervously playing with a strand of her hair, then studying the ground. “Sometimes when I dance for an audience I don’t care for, I stare above their heads. Or I’ll pick the friendliest face in the crowd.”
Should I tell him the truth? “
Last night, I was dancing for you alone.”

“I’m flattered.” Grinning, he shot her a sideways glance.

The promptness of his reply pleased her, and Nima laughed. “Well, don’t be too flattered—you were the only Egyptian there. I gave an awful performance, merging steps from several dances, trying to avoid anything too provocative.”

“I surmised you were improvising. Revising as you perform while keeping the dance flowing takes great skill. My compliments.”

Nima lowered her eyes modestly for a moment. “You’re a discriminating audience, not like the farmers and small-town merchants in Hebenar, may their souls gain the Afterlife.”

 
“Was Hebenar where you were taken prisoner?” Kamin asked, his voice low and soft.

She nodded, a lump in her throat. Her chest felt tight, and tears gathered in her eyes
. I can’t talk about it, not yet. I’d probably weep hysterically, and we don’t have time for me to indulge myself.
“Is the team rested enough yet? I want to get as far away from the Hyksos as we can.”

Kamin ran his hand over the nearest horse’s neck. “I’m as impatient as you are, but these animals are our best chance to make our escape successful.”

For a few moments they walked in silence, the only sound the thud of the horses’ hooves on the hard ground. Bending to snatch a wildflower from its stem, he handed the fragrant little bloom to her with a flourish. “Since I have no gold of valor available, let this show my admiration for your quick thinking and bravery tonight.”

“I’m suitably honored, sir,” she answered, tucking the tiny yellow flower into her hair, behind her ear.
He’s not like any other soldier I’ve ever met, not in any tavern along the Nile.
She pointed at the reins in his hand.
“Are you a charioteer?”

He laughed. “No, why do you ask?”

“You drove so well, even with an unfamiliar team and this heavy chariot. You
are
a soldier?”

“I suppose my scars give away my profession.”
 

Her stomach rumbled, startling her. “Would you like some bread?” she asked, walking to get herself a snack from the provisions bag strapped to the chariot.

“Indeed, and a long drink of water, as you promised. I’m parched. Wasting the savory dinner you cooked tonight was torture.” He grinned. “You could teach the Hyksos a thing or two about torture.”

Hopping into the chariot, she grabbed a piece of stale bread from the covered pannier. “Catch!” She pitched the bread at him, admiring his athleticism as he plucked the crust from the air one-handed. Preparing to rejoin Kamin, Nima glanced at the horizon while she unhooked the water skin. Lowering the container without drinking a drop, unable to keep her voice from wobbling, she said, “Set’s teeth, what’s this cloud of dust behind us? Can they be coming after us already? I’d hoped my potion would leave them sleeping till well after the dawn.”

With one shaking finger she indicated a visible column of dust against the clear night sky behind them. Eyes narrowed, he gestured for her to get into the chariot. “Now it’s going to be a race. Hold on tight.” He jumped into the vehicle on her heels and flicked the reins hard, jolting their team into a gallop.

The horses flew over the ground as Kamin applied the long whip. Nima kept watch behind them and was dismayed to see the cloud of dust drawing closer, until she could make out the chariots full of soldiers.

“Three chariots, a total of seven men,” she reported, tugging on Kamin’s arm gently.

He risked a lightning glance behind them, his face grim. “Can you drive?”

Panic flared in Nima’s gut, but she forced her voice to frame words, trying to seem confident. “Yes. I’ve driven oxen. Can't be terribly different.”

He guffawed, a welcome sound in this tense moment. “I must meet these oxen of yours, since they apparently rival the best Hyksos chariot horses. Keep the team galloping in a straight line, unless you have to avoid an obstacle.”

Swallowing hard, she edged closer to the center front of the chariot. Kamin cracked the whip again, gaining a small spurt of speed from the horses, and handed her the leather straps. Sidling over a step or two in the heaving chariot, he pulled the war bow off its hooks, grabbing an arrow from the leather quiver. He took an archer’s stance next to her, aiming at their pursuers. Muscles flexing, he pulled the bow impossibly taut, wood creaking under the strain, and let the arrow fly.

“Missed,” he said, selecting his next arrow.

“How can you even see well enough to aim? Isn’t the chariot an unsteady platform?” She risked a quick sideways glance at him. “Should you waste the arrows?”

Shaking his head, he grinned at her, his teeth white in the moonlight. “Such doubt for my abilities. Rest assured, I’m used to shooting from a speeding chariot. Now I have the range, and the ranks of our pursuers are about to be diminished.” Drawing the bow again, he let fly. Nima craned her head slightly and saw someone fall out of the pursuing chariot.

“One down,” he said. “I’ll even the odds for us, I promise.”

His next arrow was equally deadly. Nima fought with the reins, arms pulled nearly from their sockets trying to keep the horses moving full speed in the direction Kamin wanted to go. His fourth arrow went wild as the chariot took an unexpected bounce over a ridge in the hard-packed ground.

“Sorry,” Nima yelled. The gait of the horse on the left was becoming less smooth, and he stumbled. She was preparing to warn Kamin of the problem when the animal collapsed in a boneless heap and the chariot slewed, tipping on one wheel. Flying through the air, Nima instinctively tucked into an acrobat’s pose, hitting the ground hard but rolling. Breath knocked out of her, she skidded and lay dazed, mouth open as she tried to suck air into her chest.

“Are you all right?” Kamin ran to her, kneeling by her side and running his hands over her body rapidly before helping her sit. “No broken bones, thank the gods. Come on, we only have moments before they arrive.”

Picking her up effortlessly, he sprinted to the overturned chariot.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. We pushed the poor beast beyond his endurance.” Kamin set her on her feet next to the chariot. The horse was sprawled motionless in the traces, cross tree shattered, the other horse long gone into the night. Taking a step or two, Nima knelt beside the animal’s body and smoothed her palm down its neck. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Putting his hand under her elbow, Kamin pulled her to her feet, giving her a gentle push toward the chariot. “Quickly, crawl under there and stay put. They won’t be able to get at you without fighting their way through me, and I won’t die easily.”

Hearing the whooping war cries of the Hyksos warriors, Nima scrutinized the oncoming chariots. “Four to one? Kamin, you can’t possibly—"

He stopped her with a kiss, tugging her body against his for a brief moment, his heat warming her chilled limbs before she pushed him away, wiping her lips.

Kamin laughed. “If I’m fighting for a beautiful girl like you, I can. And they want us alive, remember? Now get under there.”

Dropping to her knees, she crawled as far under the chariot as she could get. It wasn’t much in the way of shelter, but it was at least better than standing in the open, where the enemy could outflank Kamin and seize her.
If I could be any help to him, I wouldn’t be hiding in here.
Nima drew the knife from her belt and held it at the ready. She swallowed hard, fingers clenched around the carved bone hilt
. When—
if
—the enemy gets past Kamin, I’m not surrendering.
The knife would find her heart.

Leaning forward she peered through the opening. The Hyksos chariots pulled up with a great flourish, but Kamin skewered one of their number through the heart with his last arrow, before dropping the bow and drawing the sword. Shield in one hand, blade in the other, he took a warrior’s defensive position, right side toward the enemy, knees slightly bent, weight centered, and waited for them to come to him.
 

The drivers stayed with their chariots, leaving two Hyksos to carry the attack to Kamin. With a great yell and an oath, Kamin charged forward, taking them by surprise. Nima gasped as he slashed the sword arm of the first man, nearly severing it, and then moved in a blur to parry the stroke the second soldier made. He and the enemy fought desperately on the hard-packed earth in front of the chariot. Kamin sliced the other man’s round, wooden shield in half and barely missed decapitating him as his opponent made a fluid sidestep, saving himself. Heart pounding, Nima watched as Kamin pursued his advantage, raining powerful slashes on the other man’s broken shield and sword, fighting with intensity and total concentration. The Hyksos could barely manage to stave off the assault as Kamin drove him to one knee. She’d never seen actual mortal combat, and the violence and speed of the blows were terrifying.

Only the young officer was left on his feet, visibly reluctant to engage in combat. He had his sword drawn but stayed on the sidelines, yelling instructions at his soldier as the man tried to fend off Kamin’s assault. He took tentative steps toward the two combatants but hesitated and raised his shield even though Kamin wasn’t making any moves in his direction.
 

Yet.

In his death throes, the soldier fell. A bloodstained Kamin, baring his teeth in a feral grin, whirled to face the officer.
 

Swallowing hard, the young Hyksos lifted his blade as Kamin advanced. “So, it seems you’re not just a craven spy, Egyptian. You have some fighting skills. Be warned, for I’m an officer, trained by the best in our army.”

Laughing, Kamin swung a massive blow against the man’s upraised shield, easily parrying the man’s first slash, forcing him into a stumbling retreat. “Brave words, Hyksos, too bad your training yielded such paltry results!”