Perhaps I should not write of it at all. NO ONE IS permitted to build a house within bowshot of the White Wall. The White Wall itself surprised me when I saw it. It is tall, but I had expected it to be taller. It surprised me a second time when we entered, for it is much thicker than it is high. The temples in the city have thick walls and monstrous pillars, but they are nothing compared with this great fortress. There are rings of defenses, square towers to guard the gates and the corners of the walls, and a dry moat. Archers on the towers would command the wall, should an enemy drive the defenders from it.

The soldiers I spoke with were of Kemet. They said the men of Parsa here are horsemen. These soldiers of Kemet were tall and dark. Many wore headcloths like mine. They had spears and big shields with slots in them to look through. One had a light ax as well. It hung on the back of his shield, held by two loops of rope and prevented from slipping through them by the hook at the end of the haft. *These were hieroglyphic, hieratic, and sekh shat or enchorial. They may be compared to printing, cursive, and shorthand.

WE ARE AT the inn once more, though we shared a fine roast goose first with Muslak, Neht-nefret, and Azibaal. I will not have long to write before we go, and there is much to write.

The satrap wanted to see us. He is younger than I expected, with no gray in his stiff, black beard. He has the eyes of a hawk. With him were two others, older men of Parsa and Kemet. These three sat; we stood. When the servant who had come for us had named us to the satrap, he said, "I have need of a stout ship-not a trireme with hundreds of rowers to feed, but a small and handy ship with a bold captain. Are you bold, Muslak?"

"Bold enough to do your will, Great Prince," said Muslak, "whatever it may be."

"Let us hope you speak truth. You Crimson Men are brave sailors, I know. Have you been to the Tin Isles?"

"More than once," Muslak declared.

"I will not ask you to go as far as that." The satrap spoke to Azibaal. "You're one of this man's officers?"

Azibaal nodded. "I am first mate, Great Prince."

"In which case you would swear he was bold, whether he was or not. Are you a bold sailor yourself?"

"I'm not as brave as he is," Azibaal admitted.

Muslak shook his head. "Azibaal's as stout a seaman as you'll find anyplace, Great Prince. As stout as I, and more."

"Let us hope. Two of you have women. One does not." The satrap pointed to Neht-nefret. "Whose woman are you?"

She bowed her head, unable to meet his eyes. "Captain Muslak's, Great Prince."

"And you?" He pointed to Myt-ser'eu.

She stood very straight then, and her eyes were proud. "I am Latro's, Great Prince."

For a brief time the satrap sat silent, and it seemed to me that Myt-ser'eu must not only have felt his gaze but feared his claws. At last she turned her head away.

"Latro is not the name I was given."

"I am of Kemet," poor Myt-ser'eu whispered. "We of Kemet call him Latro." (I asked her about this as we rode back. I have read my scroll to her, and it is there.)

The man of Kemet, who sat at the satrap's left hand, whispered something to him. He is very tall but stooped, with a shaven head, a hook nose, and glittering eyes.

The satrap nodded slowly. To me he said, "You have one name among the Crimson Men, another here."

I nodded, for I had learned as we sat waiting that Myt-ser'eu and Neht-nefret called me Latro, but Muslak and Azibaal Lewqys.

"You must speak aloud to the prince," said the other man of Parsa.

I said loudly, "Yes, Great Prince, it is as you say."

"I once knew a man named Artayctes," the satrap said. "He died at the hands of you Hellenes."

I said nothing.

"You do not recognize the name?"

"I don't, Great Prince."

"You are a Hellene and fear that you will be punished for his death. I understand. You will not be, Latro. You have my word. This Artayctes had a guard of Hellenes. He called in three and had them fight a man named Latro, who killed them all. Artayctes died before he could tell me of it, but certain others did not. You are that man."

I said nothing, for I recall no such incident.

"You do not deny it?"

I said, "I would never contradict you, Great Prince."

The satrap turned to Muslak. "Where did you get him, Captain?"

"In Luhitu, Great Prince. He's an old friend. He wished to go to Kemet, and I offered to carry him here without charge."

"If I send you south, will he go with you?"

"Only if you wish it, Great Prince."

"I do. Take him. I am going to send soldiers with you as well. What do you know of the southern lands, Captain?"

Muslak said, "I have been as far as Wast, Great Prince."

The satrap turned his hawk's eyes on Azibaal. "No farther?"

Azibaal spoke up like a man. "No, Great Prince."

"Very well. Listen to me, all of you. South of this land lies another called Nubia. It is not subject to my brother, but is not at war with us. Once it was subject to Kemet, thus the wise men of Kemet," he nodded toward the tall man, "know much of its history. Some even speak the tongue used there. No one here knows much of its state today. No one knows anything of Nysa, the wide land south of Nubia. I govern this land for my brother, and as his satrap it is my duty to know much of the neighboring lands. I wish to send you, with your ship and crew, south as far as the Great River runs. You will find out these things for me, and return here to tell me of them. Is that plain?"

Muslak bowed. "It is, Great Prince."

The satrap looked toward the smaller man of Parsa, who rose and gave Muslak a heavy leather burse. He is short, and like many short men he sits and stands very straight. His scant beard is white.

"There are cataracts," the satrap said. "You will have to carry your ship around all save the first. It will be difficult, but it cannot be impossible. You will have to carry the supplies you buy with my gold around those cataracts as well. Keep that in mind when you choose them."

Muslak bowed again. "I will, Great Prince."

"It may be possible to hire local people to help you. This man," he nodded toward the small man who had given Muslak the burse, "will see to that. His name is Qanju. He will go with you. He will have a scribe and three of our soldiers at his command. You, also, will be at his command."

Muslak said, "We salute him, Great Prince."

"The man on my left is Sahuset, a wise man of Kemet. He too will go with you." The satrap turned to this Sahuset. "Will you have a servant, Holy One?"

If I had shut my eyes when Sahuset spoke, I might have thought it a snake, so cold and cunning was that voice. "No servant who must be fed, Great Prince."

"That's well."

Once again the satrap spoke to Muslak. "I will also send soldiers of Kemet with you. How many, you may say. They will be subject to Qanju just as you and everyone else aboard are. Bear in mind that you and Qanju will have to feed them, buying food in the places you pass. Bear in mind also that you will need many men to help you get your ship past the cataracts. How many shall I give you?"

Muslak stroked his chin. "Five, Great Prince."

So it was decided. A servant returned us to the courtyard in which I had written and told us to wait. Soon Thotmaktef returned. Qanju wished to speak with us, he said, and after that we might go. He led us in a new direction, and soon into a sunlit room in which there were many scrolls like mine in wooden racks. Qanju was writing at a table there, but rose and laid aside his stylus when we came; he is no taller than Myt-ser'eu. He welcomed us, invited us to sit, and sat again himself. "I am to be your leader on a journey that is sure to be long and laborious," he said. "Since that is the case, it seems good to me to become better acquainted with you before we set out. I assume that none of you objects to my leadership? The satrap, Prince Achaemenes, has appointed me-I am a scholar, and would never appoint myself to such a position. If anyone objects, this is the time to say so."