Steps sounded on the stair. The flames of the lamps sank, turning green, then blue. Something or someone taller than Sahuset descended the stair. It was not a man but was like a man. It wore a mask of fresh leaves.

Sahuset spoke to it in a tongue I did not know. It answered in the same tongue, uttering three words each time it spoke, neither more nor less.

"The xu will remain in you until the wind that stirs the grain is in your face," Sahuset told me. "Then it must depart." With these words he took my hand, led me to the edge of the circle, and indicated by a gesture that I was to step out of it. I did.

I will not believe this when I read it, but after that I remember little. What I do remember, I set down here. I walked a dark street with a woman I did not know, and talked loudly and very fast. The faces of my father, my mother, and my sister floated around me. I knew our farm again, every meadow and field, and I relived the deaths of my friends. The woman beside me spoke often to me, but I did not heed her, only telling her everything that raced across my mind-a thousand things I have forgotten once more.

At last I recalled Justa and struck the woman. "You're a whore!" I remember shouting it. I drew my sword and would have killed her, but she cowered and I could not strike.

She led me to this inn. I was speaking loudly all the time, but in this tongue, not in hers. Men stared at me and laughed, thinking me drunk. We climbed many steps to the roof, where there were two bright tents and a hundred flowers that lifted lovely faces to the rising sun. She turned me from it. "Look!" she said. "Look, Latro!" I looked and the morning wind was fresh in my face, cooling it, drying my sweat.

"What is it?" I asked in her tongue. "What are you pointing at, Myt-ser'eu?"

"At the Imperishable Ones-the stars of the north. They're almost gone." She kissed me. "And you're mine again!"

THE SCRIBE IS here. His master has sent him to assess the readiness of our ship. His master is Qanju. He did not tell me this, but I heard him say it. He himself is of Kemet, and a priest. We spoke of writing. He showed me their picture writing, and explained the way it is read. It may be written in either direction, but the man must face toward the end. The birds face the end also. It may also be written down, but not up. He wrote the satrap's name and enclosed it in a shield.

He said we should take a Nubian with us because such a one would know the country. I had not thought of that. He says there are many Nubians in the army of Kemet. "They are fine archers," he told me. "We have archers as good, but not many."

Neht-nefret whispered, "They are wonderful lovers, Latro. I had one once."

"Yes," Myt-ser'eu said, "foreigners always make the best lovers." She squeezed my hand when she spoke.

"They are good fighters," Thotmaktef declared.

I asked about their tactics.

He laughed and said, "You neglected to tell me that scribes and priests know nothing of war. You are more courteous than my own countrymen."

I said, "What can I know of what you know of war?"

"I know very little, just what I've picked up from Qanju and the other men of Parsa. But they know a great deal."

"Not more than we," Neht-nefret insisted.

"Not those tactics," Myt-ser'eu said, and everyone laughed.

I like this young scribe. He is eager to teach, yet very ready to learn. Not many men are like that. I cannot know whether he is brave or not, for Myt-ser'eu says we have not known him long and there has been no fighting. Yet his eyes say he is, and what is better yet, that he does not know it. I would rather have him at my side than most men. Surely his god must favor him! What god would not favor such a priest?

He will tell his master we are ready. Muslak says there will be no need to wait for tide or wind. I CAST US off and leaped on board. Men on the yard untied the sail. The wind is stronger in the middle of the river, but we keep to the bank where the current is less-though it seems to me that there is hardly any current at all. The river is very wide, so that little is lost to such current as there may be.

There are three archers of Parsa and five spearmen of Kemet with us. All obey me, and none like it. Two quarreled. I knocked both down. They drew daggers, which I took from them. When they got up again I gave them back and told them that if they did not sheath them I would kill them both. They sheathed them. I hurt Uro's spear arm, although I did not intend it.

I inspected them, and set them to work cleaning their gear and sharpening their weapons. Just now I inspected them again and dressed them down for their shortcomings, both individually and as a group. Just now I set them to cleaning and sharpening some more. The captain suggests that we have them sweep the ship and scrub its deck each day, saying that it will become dirty very quickly with so many men on board. I told him we would do that as well.

All the soldiers wish to be my friends, but I am not friendly with any. Myt-ser'eu says that is wise, and I know she is right. She is my river-wife, just as Neht-nefret is Muslak's. Neht-nefret is a pretty woman, taller than Myt-ser'eu and more graceful. But Myt-ser'eu is beautiful and loving. I would not exchange her.

Both are more clever, I think, than Muslak and I might wish; they are great friends, whispering and gossiping. I HAVE BEEN thinking of the things I must know when I read this again. We are on Muslak's ship. Its name is Gades. We are two women and twenty-seven men. Men: Qanju commands, Muslak is captain, Sahuset is a learned man of Kemet, Thotmaktef is a scribe, I command eight soldiers, and the rest are sailors. Women: Neht-nefret and Myt-ser'eu. The first is Muslak's, the second mine. She is four fingers shorter and I think a year or so the younger. Certainly she is younger than I. I think her afraid of all the other men, save perhaps for Qanju and Thotmaktef-very afraid of Sahuset. She stays so close to me when he is near that I am tempted to tell her to go away, but that would be cruel. It would be unwise as well; she remembers much that I forget. THERE ARE CROCODILES in the water. I saw a big one just now that must be very dangerous. Muslak says we will soon see river-horses. Myt-ser'eu has seen many pictures of them, but never seen them. Neht-nefret says the kings hunted them when this land ruled itself. They cannot really be bigger than this ship, but she says it.

We spoke of pigs. This is because Neht-nefret said they look like pigs on land, though they are so much larger and eat grass like other horses. Muslak said that pigs are good food, which is true, I know. The women were disgusted. No one in Kemet will eat a pig, they said. Sahuset smiled at that, so I knew otherwise.

Muslak also said that the river-horses are good eating, but very dangerous to hunt whether on land or water. I said that fat animals could not be dangerous, no matter how large they were. I said this because I wished to hear more.

"I have never hunted them," Muslak said, "but I know that they wreck big boats and trample men to death. Their jaws are immense, and their bite kills crocodiles. Their hides are thick and tough, and their fat keeps a spear from reaching their vitals."

"Not mine," one of my soldiers declared.

Laughing, Neht-nefret told him, "Tepu will kill you, Amamu." Tepu is the river-horse. I READ WHAT I had written about this ship to Myt-ser'eu. A sailor joined us to listen. When I stopped reading he said, "There's another woman."

Both of us said there was not.

He shrugged. "I slept on board last night. There was a woman with us. We offered her money, but she refused and went below, and we couldn't find her."