“What do you mean?” Nima studied him over the rim of the mug. “I’ll be no man’s slave.”
Ptahnetamun shook his head. “No, no, you mistake me. I’ve a contract with Andrios, the leader of the Minoan dance troupe, drawn up all proper by one of the god Thoth’s temple scribes, witnessed by an Egyptian official in Luxor. The dance troupe pays me a percentage of their earnings in exchange for security and passage along the caravan road. I’d surely offer you the same. We’ve a blood oath between us, you and I, witnessed by all my men, remember?”
Nima shook her head. “Fine for the Minoans, they’re foreigners. I’m Egyptian—I couldn’t leave the Black Lands.”
“I travel in and out of Egypt all the time. You could dance abroad for a few years, save your gold and then retire anywhere you chose, in Egypt, Thebes even.” Ptahnetamun nudged her in the ribs. “See the world. Live as a lady of luxury, build a tomb as grand as the queen’s for a good Afterlife, eh?”
He’s just offered her one of her life’s dreams on a platter. I wonder if he hopes by keeping us in his company for two more days, he can persuade Nima to join the troupe? Kamin’s heart sank. Hating himself but reacting with a jealous instinct he didn’t fully understand, angered by the idea of Nima choosing a different road than the one he traveled, he leaned across her to address their host in disparaging tones. “You forget, we’re hunted by the Hyksos.”
Ptahnetamun scoffed. “I could protect her from them. We don’t survive by merely our wits, soldier, not with the treasures and trade goods we carry. My men are tough, well trained. Anyone who attacks us risks the fury of the entire caravan guild. No, even the most determined enemy of Egypt doesn’t want to stir up that hornets’ nest. They need traders, too. I’m bound out of Egypt right now. By the time we return, they’ll have forgotten her. Maybe they’ll catch you in the meantime, eh?”
“Despite the way we arrived as your guests, I’m not normally easy to snare,” Kamin said, spearing a tender morsel of meat for Nima and putting it on her plate.
Although she thanked him in a low murmur, Nima seemed distracted, thoughtful for the rest of the meal, saying little. When the banquet drew to an end, people drifting away to seek their sleeping mats, she turned to Kamin. “I’m going to visit the dancers for a while, so don’t wait up for me. They promised to show me some of those complicated throws and lifts they were doing. Their leader said in Minos, as part of the sacred dance, they vault over the horns of bulls and somersault from the beast’s back! Can you imagine? I’d like to see such a performance.”
Staring into her face, he wished he could read her mind. How tempted was she by the caravan master’s offer? And why am I so unreasonably upset? Won’t it be easier for me to reach my goal faster if I travel alone? But the idea of journeying anywhere without Nima by his side was suddenly unthinkable.
“She’ll be safe anywhere in the camp, soldier,” Ptahnetamun said, misunderstanding the concern that must be showing on Kamin’s face. “I’ll escort her to the dancers’ tent myself.”
Smiling at Kamin, Nima put one hand on his arm for a moment. “Don’t worry.”
The pain wrapping itself around his heart as he thought of losing her from his life, made him angry. “It’s no matter to me. Do as you please.” Turning on his heel, he strode off to the tent they’d been given, fighting the urge with every step to go seek her out. Until my mission for Pharaoh is done, I can’t offer her anything. I’m not free to speak of possibilities.
***
Well aware Nima hadn’t returned to the small tent they were sharing, Kamin slept fitfully. In the predawn, as he heard the bustle of the caravan packing up to move on, he rose. Wrapping his cloak tightly to keep out the early-morning chill, he strolled outside. His sword and belt knife were stacked beside the tent, and with vast relief he re-armed himself. The serving girl bustled up to hand him a water skin and a pouch.
“Some journey bread, sir, and dried meat, from the master.”
He caught her wrist as she moved away to her next task. “Have you seen Nima?”
“No, sir, not since her wonderful dance last night.” Making a little sideways movement, awkwardly mimicking a dance step, she sighed. “I wish I could prance like that. I could have any man in the camp then, maybe even the master.” Giggling, eyes wide at the mere idea of bedding Ptahnetamun, she hastened away.
Behind him, men were already taking apart the tent he’d slept in, loading it onto a protesting donkey. Not hungry, Kamin slung the small sack of provisions over his shoulder and stalked through the controlled chaos, looking for the loadmaster. Once he’d found the right person, he was rapidly assigned to a team loading camels. The cargo was concealed in bulging sacks and baskets, and Kamin knew better than to ask too many questions about what Ptahnetamun was transporting. Spices, gold, salt, other exotic goods, perhaps.
I’m not one of Pharaoh’s tax collectors after all. Slapping the camel standing in his way on the rump, Kamin moved on to help with the next.
The camels were balky as such creatures invariably are. Kamin and the man he was assigned to help had a string of ten camels to load, and the task took more time than either of them wanted. The last camel howled, spat and generally complained, while they adjusted the alignment of the wooden poles bearing the load until the arrangement suddenly met with her satisfaction, and she lumbered to her feet, ready to march.
None too soon, as the caravan workers set up a terrible din banging on pans and bells, the half-mile-long string of camels lurched into motion, one string of animals at a time. Munching a date, Kamin walked along the procession, searching for Nima and the dancers. He found them a few camel strings back from where he’d begun in his assigned spot at the head of the caravan. A group of the women, including Nima, was walking, chatting as they munched on journey bread.Her smile when she saw him warmed his heart. “Did you sleep well then?” he asked, nodding a greeting to the Minoan dancers.
“We stayed up all night, talking,” she answered. “Meet Thala and Mika—they’ve had the most amazing adventures on their travels—”
Has meeting these other dancers stolen her common sense? “You should be resting, preserving your strength.” Gesturing at the camel string they were walking beside, knowing he was probably glowering at her, he said, “You should perch on one of the camels, like others have already done, let the animal walk for you.”
“Oh, the troupe has a special cart, drawn by donkeys, where we’ll ride most of the day,” said one of the dancers with Nima, pointing at the vehicle for emphasis.
“Just stretching our legs for now,” said the other, toying with her gold hoop earring. She exchanged a knowing glance with the first girl, linked arms and drew her away, leaving Kamin and Nima in some privacy.
They walked in silence for a few moments beside the camels.
“It’s just I’ve never met any truly professional performers, besides the shabby little troupe who raised me,” Nima said defensively.
“You owe me no explanations.”
He knew she was glancing at him with her eyebrows raised in puzzlement, surprised by his gruffness. How could he explain to her his fear that she’d decide to stay with these exotic people who offered her so much? He could offer as much of a future, or even more perhaps, but not until his mission for Pharaoh was complete. And, truth be told, he was still adjusting to the fact that he could no longer envision a future for himself that didn’t include this woman as his partner.
“And you slept well?” Oblivious to his inner turmoil, a moment later, she tried a neutral topic.
Next, we’ll be speaking of the unchanging weather no doubt. Kamin grimaced, upset with himself. I’m not used to constraint between us. I’d better leave her alone before I say something clumsy I’ll regret . “Well enough. I should be getting back, since I’m working our passage.” Unable to resist touching her, he put his hand on her arm, enjoying the softness of her skin. “Promise me you’ll ride in the cart for as many hours today as you can.”
> She rewarded him with a smile and a nod.
“I’ll see you this evening then, when the caravan camps for the night.” Lengthening his stride, he headed to his assigned string of camels, further to the front of the caravan. What is it about this woman that has my heart tied up in the knots of Isis? She’s beautiful and sexy and dances like the goddess Hathor herself, but I’ve met dancers before and certainly never been tempted to marry one! Shoving a complaining camel back in line so he could pass, he scanned the countryside they were trekking through. Bare desert as far as the eye could see, broken by a few rocky outcrops. He couldn’t fault Ptahnetamun’s logic—the two of them were better off with the caravan than on their own in this inhospitable area. Finding water would have been a desperate issue.
He thought back to the first moment he’d laid eyes on Nima, when she’d brought him her cup of water in the Hyksos camp. Brave, determined to do what’s right no matter the cost to her—this woman embodies everything a man could ask for. Oh, yes, he was head over heels for her and left hoping she might feel the same for him. And what would my mother and sisters think, when I bring Nima to the door of our family home? Well, he didn’t give a damn what they’d think, but he’d insist they respect her as he did, if necessary. Truth to tell, my mother would be happy I was settling down, no matter who the woman was. Give her a grandchild, and all would be well in her world. He grinned.
“Hey, about time you came back,” his co-worker greeted him, gesturing impatiently. “We have to shift the load on the thrice-damned rear camel again.”
Kamin could see the wooden poles holding the cargo had gone out of alignment around her hump, and the camel was balking at every step, creating a drag on the rest of the string, which in turn upset the camels marching behind them. With a sigh, he went to assist. At this rate, I’m in for a long two days of travel.
The caravan ambled along at the speed of the camels, not stopping until midafternoon, when they reached an oasis, and then all the camels and donkeys had to be unloaded and tended to. Several of the ten animals in his string needed salve rubbed into their hides where the cargo harnesses had chafed. I certainly am earning our passage and hope never to have to do so again. Rubbing a rag to remove the strong-smelling paste from his hands, Kamin was hot and filthy by the time he was released to seek his tent. Wondering if Nima would be there, fearing she wouldn’t be, he was pleasantly surprised to find her waiting inside with a platter of figs, flat bread, several strips of dried meat and a bowl of spiced yogurt. A frothy pitcher of beer and two mugs sat off to the side.
He poured himself a full mug of the liquid and drained it in one sustained gulp. “Dusty work, shepherding a lot of complaining camels all day.”
“I brought our dinner,” she said. “You might want to take a bath in the oasis pond first.” She wrinkled her nose.
“Smell like a camel, do I? No need to mince words.” Kamin laughed, rubbing his chin. “I’ve got stubble as well, but I think it’s going to be days before I can shave properly.”
“I’ll forgive the start of a beard if you take a bath at least.” She dipped the bread into the yogurt and bit off a chunk, chewing delicately. “The caravan feeds us well. I’ll leave the food here for you.”
In the act of stripping off his tunic, Kamin paused. “Where are you off to?”
“Once the camp is completely set up, Andrios has called for a rehearsal. He’s created a new story he’s telling through dance. He wants my opinion on it, as an Egyptian, representing his future audience.” Nima’s face fairly glowed with her pleasure in being consulted by the Minoan, and Kamin bit back a cutting remark.
He probably wants more than her opinion.
“Andrios promised to teach me some new acrobatic moves as well. Come and watch, after you’ve eaten and bathed,” she invited.
Kamin grabbed a chunk of the bread. “I wouldn’t miss the opportunity.” Time to meet this man Andrios and assess how much of a threat to me he might be when it comes to Nima. As she skipped from the tent in eager haste, he wished yet again that he wasn’t under strict orders of secrecy. The desire to tell Nima everything about himself and settle this issue of a relationship between them was driving him mad. And despite the fact she was willing to make love to me in the Afterlife, I can’t honestly say I know how she feels about me, about staying with me, rather than living her dream of traveling with the dancers. Nothing about the experience in the duat has much relevance here in daily life. We were under the unearthly spell of the place. He caught a whiff of camel rising from his tunic and wrinkled his nose. And this situation we’re in now has quite a different aspect.
***
Later, having taken a bath to rinse off the stink of camel, and with a full belly, Kamin walked toward the far side of the caravan encampment, following the sound of music. He pushed his way through a throng of onlookers and paused, watching Nima in the arms of a Minoan dancer who was evidently in the middle of lifting her into some complex acrobatic maneuver as part of their dance. Hand clenched on the hilt of his sword, Kamin could barely restrain himself from interrupting the scene so intense was his jealousy over the man touching a barely clad Nima—his Nima. He acknowledged the unusually possessive thought with a rueful frown.
Such things were never done in Egyptian dance, and he was amazed she’d participate in this. But she has a daring spirit and a strong thirst for knowledge, especially when it comes to her art. Isn’t that part of what I admire about her? Only the certainty that if he interrupted them in the midst of their lifts and throws she might be physically hurt stopped him from deliberately breaking the pattern of the dance.
Glancing around, he tried to gauge the feeling in the crowd. Ptahnetamun kept a tight grip on his workers, maintained a high level of discipline, but Kamin remembered how aroused and volatile the Hyksos had been while watching Nima. The people here appeared merely interested, appreciative of the skills on display. He relaxed his guard a fraction.
Applause signaled the end of the particular sequence the troupe had been practicing, and the dancers scattered to refresh themselves and rest in what shade there was. Kamin strode into the dusty circle of ground.
Rubbing her face with a damp rag one of the dancers had handed her, Nima broke into a smile. “You came! Did you see that last set of moves? Wasn’t it amazing? Oh, let me introduce you to Andrios, the troupe master.”
Reluctantly, Kamin shook hands with the man, sensing from his unsmiling face that the dancer was already feeling a rivalry, just as he was. “The acrobatics were interesting. Different.”
“Not to your taste, I gather?” Andrios said, eyebrow raised. “Yet Nima dances so well.”
“Aye, that she does.” Kamin smiled at her. “But she’s going to need her strength for travel when we leave the caravan the day after tomorrow.”
Nima shook her head, biting her lip. “I gain energy from sharing steps with other dancers, from learning. You don’t understand, Kamin, this is a rare opportunity for me.”
“And as to your departure,” Andrios said, putting his arm around Nima’s waist so they stood hip to hip, as if to emphasize they were a team, “I’m doing my best to persuade her to join our troupe, sign a contract with the caravan master.” He gave Kamin a somewhat hostile gaze, eyes narrowed. “It’s you who are on the run from enemies, as I understand it. Not her.”
“Well, to be fair, I was their prisoner, too,” Nima said, looking from one man to the other. She sidled a few inches away, breaking the intimate hold Andrios had on her.
Angered by the casual manner in which the troupe master was putting his hands on Nima, Kamin took her elbow and exerted a little pressure. “Can we talk for a moment?” He glared at Andrios. “Privately?”
The Minoan inclined his head a fraction, squeezed Nima close for a heartbeat and walked away, running his hands through the riotous black curls on his head. He called to his dancers. “We’ll be starting on the next set of moves in a few minutes.”
Tugging her elbow free of his c
lasp, Nima glared at Kamin. “Are you trying to embarrass me by being rude to him? Like two crowing cocks in the yard, all ruffled feathers and puffed chests and me the hen in the middle. Honestly! I thought you understood how much this encounter with the Minoans meant to me. Surely there’s no harm in enjoying myself for a day or two in the midst of our troubles, as long as we’re traveling with the caravan anyway. I beg you, please don’t diminish my pleasure.”
He brought up the least of his concerns as an opener. “They dance so strangely.”
“Different than what you’re used to, but that’s the fun in it for me, new things to learn.” She spread her hands wide. “I’m actually happy. For a few moments when I’m dancing with them, I manage to forget the awful things that happened to me in the past few weeks. I can just dance, connect with the energy and the flow of movement. And feel free. ”
Fear of losing her to the enticements of the troupe drove him to make an unfortunate remark, one he wished he could call back as soon as the words left his lips. “Andrios wants to teach you more than dance steps and simple acrobatics,” he said.
“Oh, now we’re speaking more plainly. What gives you the right to be jealous about anything I choose to do?” Her eyes sparkled with anger, and she took a deliberate step away from him.
Too late, he realized the quagmire he’d stumbled into. “I only meant—”
“I know what you meant. I’m a grown woman who’s been dancing in taverns all her life. I can take care of myself. If you came to make me unhappy, then you can go.” Spinning on her heel, Nima made a beeline to where Andrios was waiting, his eyes on her even as he chatted and laughed with the female dancers Kamin had met earlier in the day.
As the Minoan reached to hug Nima and draw her into the conversation, he sent a triumphant glance and a wicked smile in Kamin’s direction.
Grinding his teeth, hand clenched on the handle of his belt knife, Kamin left the impromptu dance area, seething at his rival and at himself. A defeat brought on by my own stupidity. What was it Nima had said? Like two cocks fighting over a hen? She’s not the woman to be won in such a fashion, as I well know. Taking up a position at the perimeter of the crowd, where he’d have a clear view of the dancing when they resumed practicing, he shook his head ruefully. If she gives me another chance, I’ve got to be a lot smarter in my wooing strategy. Nima wasn’t paying any attention to him as she chatted animatedly with her new friends, demonstrating a dance step for them. He couldn’t begrudge her the happiness she was obviously experiencing but neither could he banish his fear of losing her to the dancing life. The stakes have never been higher in any fight of my lifetime. If only she gives me the chance, I’ll make her other dreams come true, I swear it.He looked at her again, so at home and accepted in the group of friendly dancers. But will she offer me that chance?
Dancer of the Nile (Gods of Egypt) Page 9
