A Path of Shadows by Lauren Haney

By Lauren Haney

The Gods blessed Lieutenant Bak, head of the Medjay police, with an extraordinary brilliance -- that is why he's the only to whom his commander turns in a time of want. The explorer Minnakht has vanished into the monstrous and cruel Egyptian barren region -- or even has strayed perilously with regards to Queen Maatkare Hatshepsut’s well-guarded turquoise mines -- and prior to Bak sails north on a brand new project he's to search out the lacking guy. yet evil is touring with him and his Medjays within the caravan they accompany eastward. an individual -- or anything -- is accountable for the unusual rash of deaths that's quickly thinning the numbers in their fellow tourists. an easy look for a lacking adventurer turns into a twisted knot of treachery and blood -- one who threatens to strangle the existence from Bak and his males and depart them buried for all eternity underneath the blistering sands.

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You mustn’t be too free with what you share. ” Bak gave him a quick look. ” “Several times, but always by way of the southern route traveled by our sovereign’s caravans. ” Intrigued, Bak studied the visitor in the dim light of moon and stars. Amonmose looked more a man who enjoyed his comfort than one familiar with the desert wilderness. He was about forty years of age, of medium height and portly, with laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth. In spite of his girth, he moved with a rare grace and seated himself on the sand with the ease of a child.

Still . ” Bak let the question hang between them, a heavy veil of silence that no one but Senna could lift. The nomad was slow to answer. Finally, staring at the earth beneath his feet, he spoke with visible reluctance. ” Senna raised his eyes to Bak’s. “While he was away at the turquoise mines, I grew ill. Something I ate, I suspect. I was pale and weak when he returned, not fully recovered. He wanted to leave right away, but thought me too sick to accompany him. ” A pack of dogs came racing along the wall, barking at a small yellow cur Bak assumed was an outsider invading the territory of the village mutts.

Later, about two-thirds of the way between the mouth of the wadi and where we now stand, the tracks of two men wearing leather sandals and walking with four donkeys merged with the first set of tracks. ” Nebre shrugged. “Nomads usually go barefoot, but a few have taken to wearing sandals. ” “Interesting,” Bak said with a wry smile. ” “A procession with a spectator, sir,” Kaha said, grinning. ” Smaller than Nebre and a few years younger, he was equally slender, with long arms and hands as delicate as those of a woman.

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