Soldier of Sidon

They were led to the field with ropes through their noses; these were cast aside once the bulls had seen each other and were prepared to fight. Both were large and strong, very fine. Loosed, they charged and charged again, circled, feinted, and indeed made me think of swordsmen who held two swords, something I feel sure I must have seen.

At last the black bull threw down the red and white, and gored him terribly before he could rise. Like bees, the black bull's handlers swarmed over him, and put their rope through his nose once more. Then he was washed and decked with garlands. I am told that he will be kept at the temple until his death, then buried as befits the herald of Ptah.

Besides this, there were races and games of all the kinds befitting soldiers. Muslak and others wished me to wrestle; but Neht-nefret warned me that the crowd would be displeased if a foreigner won, and might well mob me. This was wise, I think. I declined to take part.

This procession is well worth seeing. Richly robed, the images of every god in the city pass us on boats, rowed by their worshippers and attended by their priests. There is great pageantry. Jeweled fans of bright feathers cool these images. Dancers whirl about them. The riverbank is lined with spectators as far as the eye can see, and there are thousands more on boats and ships like ours.

Perhaps I should not write this, but I can expunge it later if I think that best. The image of Anubis was only an image, I would judge of carved and painted wood. So it was with the images of the other gods, until Ap-uat came. He seemed to me no image at all, but a wolf-headed man larger than any man. He looked at me as he passed, and cocked his head as if to ask, "Are you coming?" Had he shown his teeth, I think I might have run like any coward and hidden in the hold. ANUBIS WISHED ME to meet him in the city of the dead. I had not forgotten that when we tied up here this morning, and indeed have not forgotten it now, though I never saw him. When we were at the quay, I left off whetting my sword and gave Uraeus the long dagger I had borrowed for him from Tybi, telling him where I had gotten it and that it must be returned. It was a fine dagger, double-edged and very sharp. He refused it, saying he did not need it, and gave it to Myt-ser'eu. She thanked him but returned it to Tybi, saying that she would surely lose it.

So it was, with an omen that could scarcely be worse, that we set out. We went to the market to ask the way to the city of the dead. The market was practically empty, though Myt-ser'eu says it was crowded yesterday after the procession.

She looked at jewelry and daggers among the many booths that sold such things; I bought her a small one in what seems to be the style of Kemet-a dagger like a needle, with an eye in its grip.*

She asked whether we were to go to the city of the dead by day. I had not considered this, but I reclaimed this scroll from Uraeus and read aloud to her all the healer had said and done, and she said we were surely to go by night, since he had asked whether I would be afraid to. Little children, she says, visit the dead by day; but by night all the cities of the dead can be evil places.

"Is it then," I asked, "that the Eater of Blood comes forth from the tomb?" For it seemed to me that I had heard of such a one.

She laughed and said only infants believe such things, but she was frightened, I know. "If I must face the Eater of Blood for you, I want to do it on a full stomach," she told me. "Have you enough left to buy us a good meal?"

I got out my coins, and we decided there was enough to buy simple meals for the three of us; but by the time we had found an uncrowded cookshop that suited Myt-ser'eu, Uraeus was gone. This saved some money, so we got better meals than we had pla

"No, we won't," she told me. "Muslak has a lot of money, and he'll be happy to give you enough for a fine room and more. If you intend to sacrifice today, you'll have to ask him for money anyway, won't you? Enough for a nice black lamb, and they won't be cheap here."

I confessed I had not thought of that.

"Well, you'd better. The way to ask for money is to ask for a lot, take as much as you can get, and come back soon. That's worth knowing, darling, so you'd better write it in your scroll."

"I will," I said. "I'll need to know about it as long as you're with me."

That made her angry. She shouted at me and wept. I tried to comfort her, and when she would not be comforted told her to go back to the ship, saying that I knew now where the city of the dead lay and would go there alone tonight.

"I won't! You're a beast, and you'd think I got mad so I wouldn't have to come with you."

I left the cookshop then, telling her I would punish her if she did not remain there. I had walked far from the market before I realized she was following me. I chased and caught her, and we kissed.

"Aren't I fast ru

"Very fast," I said. "It's those long legs. But you run too fast at first, and so lose a long race."

"Did you think I didn't want to be caught?" She kissed me again and told me I was too big to run as fast as she did. There may be some truth in that, but I know I could outdistance her in a cross-country race; she was breathing hard by the time I caught her.

The city of the dead is on desert land, not as level as it might be, with barren hills beyond it. The sun stood low before us by the time we reached the gates, a sullen crimson. There are streets in the city of the dead, just as in a city of the living. The houses lining these streets are tombs, much smaller than real houses. Most are square; some are of mud brick, some stone. The doors of a few stone tombs are broken.

We walked the streets of the silent city until we had left the last of the newest tombs behind, and there was only red land, and the hills, before us. I told Myt-ser'eu I wished to continue, climb a high hill, and view all Asyut from there. Her feet hurt, but she promised to wait for me.

I did as I had pla

When I started down, I lost sight of her. I do not believe I saw her again after that; and when at last I reached the city of the dead once more, she was gone. I called her name more than once, and when there was no reply went into it trotting, though I too was tired by then. In the third street (I think it was) I saw a black jackal standing fearlessly in the middle of the street. When it saw that I had seen it, it put down its nose, sniffed something in the street, and fled, vanishing between two tombs. I knelt to examine the place where it had sniffed, thinking that Myt-ser'eu might have dropped some trinket and that it was her scent on whatever she had let fall that had attracted the jackal.

Dark as it was, I could see nothing; but my fingers found a sticky dust and knew it for fresh blood before I ever raised it to my nostrils. I kept quiet then, and listened. For the time of a hundred breaths, I heard only the soft sigh of the night wind. At last there were sounds to my right. Hinges creaked, the voices of men muttered, and something broke and fell.

Soon I found torn cloth.

They had not tied or gagged her, but a big man with a bandage around his chest stood over her with a soldier's bent club. Two other men had broken into a tomb with an iron-shod crow-lantern light shone through its empty doorway.