He paused. “Now I know Rahotep was no innocent. He’d committed atrocities against his enemies during his own wars. Perhaps, at the time, I accepted them too readily, both because he was my king and because I believed he had the blood of the gods in his veins. But hear me, Raetawy:no onedeserves what Sematawy did in the palace that day. Least of all the children.”
Rae shut her eyes. She felt sick. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I know you and Omari and whoever else you’re scheming with think Amunmose is nothing like his predecessor. And you’re right. Sematawy was a tyrant. He joined High and Low Khetara through blood and terror and lies, and it was fortunate that fate took his life in that skirmish after Unification. But just because this king seems weak and indulgent, just because he hasn’t marched his armies down here to slaughter us where westand—doesn’t mean that hewon’t. A snake is a snake, Raetawy. You step on his tail? You get bitten.”
Rae scoffed. “So, that’s your advice? Accept the way things are? I tried that. I tried to turn a blind eye, but when I saw the terror on Baki’s son’s face that day…” She shook her head. “I know that I haven’t always made the best choices, Father, and I know you worry about me. But I can’t stay home and do nothing. I can’t. Not anymore.”
Ankhu sighed and stared downriver to where the nomarch’s ship was vanishing into the horizon. In the matter of a moment, his anger drained away. “I know you can’t. You’re as stubborn as I am. But please, please for the love of Ra, be careful. You’re all I’ve got left.”
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Rae said. “And I’ll be fine. I promise.”
Ankhu glanced back at her with tired, weary eyes. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
***
It took a lot of convincing, but Rae finally got her father to go into the house and rest. He slept through the midday meal and was still sleeping when she went out to tend to the zebu.
She was filling water buckets on the riverbank when she saw him.
A man on a fishing skiff, accompanied by a large black dog.
Normally, Rae wouldn’t have stopped to watch a common fisherman, but there was something about the man and his dog that made her pause. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly why he captured her attention—his dark robes were filthy but not uncommon, and he was sailing on a plain old reed fishing skiff. The shadow of dark stubble along his jaw was a bit unusual—most Khetaran men kept themselves clean-shaven—but that didn’t meanmuch. Perhaps he simply hadn’t had time to perform his ablutions during his journey. He wasn’t particularly good-looking either, not that it would have captivated her if he was. So why couldn’t she look away? What was it about him that didn’t make sense?
Lean and lanky, much like his dog, the man moved about the skiff with a hint of stiffness that Rae recognized as evidence of a nagging injury of some kind. She knew the feeling well! However, whatever pain he was experiencing seemed to be forgotten when he caught sight of her studying him from the riverbank.
“Greetings to you!” he called out. As soon as he smiled, his nondescript, rugged face instantly turned boyish and charming. “You… ah… you don’t happen to know anything about dogs, do you, sena?”
The man’s voice affirmed Rae’s suspicions. He spoke with an accent and colloquialisms she’d only heard on occasion at the Sakesh market. A tribesman, she guessed, from the Red Lands. Though from which tribe she had no idea. There were so many that most Khetarans didn’t bother trying to discern one from another. She should have ignored him, but curiosity got the best of her.
“What seems to be the problem?” she asked.
Encouraged, the man paddled his skiff over to the riverbank and pulled it ashore. The black dog leaped off the boat and came over to sniff between Rae’s legs.
“Behkai, no!” the man scolded, darting over to pull the dog back by his haunches. “So sorry. He’s been a terrible pest for the past couple days. He won’t leave me alone, not even to sleep.”
“What have you been feeding him?”
The man blinked at her. “You know, bread, bit of onion… A long journey it has been, and we haven’t got—”
“Wait a minute,” Rae broke in. “Isn’t he your dog? How do you not know what to feed him?”
“He isn’tmydog. He isadog who is very pushy and whose company I am temporarily tolerating.”
Rae blinked. “Right. Well, aren’t you a fisherman?” she asked, indicating the skiff. “Dogs like fish.”
Again, the man gave her a long blank look. “A fisherman, yes…” he said uncertainly.
Rae rolled her eyes. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“It is obvious, hey?”
“Painfully so.”
“Ah.”
“Whereareyou from?”
The man drew himself up. “From the Red Lands, sena. The tribe of the Anen,” he said, with fierce pride.
