10 – Aftermath by Asprin, Robert

“Serve your god, that he may guard you,” said Tjainufi, stroking his master’s-could Khamwas be called that?-right ear.

“He has,” Khamwas went on after the awkward pause, “a stele from my own land, from Napata-“

“Of course,” Samlor interrupted, placing the stranger at last. “The Land of the River.”

“The river,” Khamwas agreed with a nod of approval, “and of the desert. And in the desert, many monuments of former times”-he paused again, gave a gentle smile-“greater times for my people, some would say, though I myself am content.”

“You want to … retrieve,” said Samlor, avoiding the question of means, “a monument that this Setios has. Is he a magician?”

“I don’t know,” said Khamwas with another shrug. “And I don’t need the stele, only a chance to look at it. And, ah, Samlor-?”

The caravan master nodded curtly to indicate that he would not take offense at what he assumed would be a tense question.

“I will pay him well for the look,” the Napatan said. “It’s of no value to him-not for the purpose I intend it-without other information. It will give me the location of a particular tomb, which is significant to me for other reasons.”

The light in Star’s hands was growing brighter, throwing the men’s shadows onto the wall of the alley. Khamwas’s face looked demonically inhuman because it was illuminated from below.

Samlor touched his niece’s head. “Not so much, dearest,” he mur- mured. “We don’t want anybody noticing us here if we can help it.”

“But-” Star began shrilly. She looked up and met her uncle’s eyes. The light shrank to the size of a large pearl, too dim to show anything but itself.