Who is she? And why is she so scared?Karim wondered.
There was something contradictory about this woman and her plain, rough robes. She was too refined, her copper skin too unblemished and her cheeks too full, to be a peasant. And yet, she was dressed like one.
Just then, a group of three men who were dressed differentlyfrom everyone else appeared at the far end of the marketplace. Their white schentis weren’t rough or rumpled, but crisply pleated and belted with fine leather. Around their necks were shining gold collars shaped like falcons with wings outstretched.
Some kind of military men, or guards, Karim guessed.
People scattered to give them a wide berth, and Karim watched as they made their way down the street, stopping to interrogate the merchants and inspect every young woman who passed by.
A tingle crept up the back of Karim’s neck as he glanced at the woman in black. She was watchful, rigid—like a hunted animal on the edge of flight.
If she runs, she’ll only attract their attention.
He had no idea who she was or why she appeared frightened of the approaching guards, but he felt compelled to help her. Maybe it was because she was beautiful, but he preferred to think that he was repaying Nefermaat’s good deed, as she claimed to have done for him. The little priestess had risked her safety to come to his rescue at the temple, it seemed only right to do the same for this stranger.
“Greetings, sena,” he said, moving to the woman’s side. “You look like you could use a hot meal. Why don’t you come and share mine?”
The woman turned to him with alarm and pulled the hood closer to her face. “No, thank you,” she said, and started to move away.
The guards were getting close.
“Please,” Karim said, reaching for her arm. “I’m just trying to help.”
“Let me go!” Her tone was that of someone accustomed to being obeyed. She yanked her arm from his grasp and pinned him with an imperious glare. “I don’t need your help.”
Karim saw one of the guards turn toward them with a frown.
“Sena,” Karim warned her, his apprehension growing. “I really think you should come with me.” He reached for her arm again.
“Leave me alone, you pig!” she cried, trying to pry him off.
“Pig?” Karim huffed, offended. She was stronger than he expected. “Will you stop struggling, woman!”
It was too late. The guards were headed their way, their hands reaching for the hilts of their khopesh.
Karim broke into a cold sweat. The woman saw them too and paled.
Do something!
They drew closer.
Anything!
With a murmured apology, Karim slapped the woman across the face.
She gasped, one hand going to her reddening cheek. She ducked her head from the blow. The hood dropped back over her face, shielding it from sight.
The guards stopped in their tracks, taken aback by this new development.
“What’s this about?” one asked sternly.
Karim cleared his throat and gave the three men a rueful look. “The wife… I tell her to buy bread; instead she trades all our geese for jewelry. What can you do?”
The suspicion on the guards’ faces turned to amusement.
“Keeping her in line, are you?” one asked.
“I certainly am,” Karim said, chuckling nervously. “She’s a wild animal in need of taming!”
