Free City of the Dead by Anton Gill

tell you what the consequences would be, either for us or her. Huy hoped that sounded portentous enough to impress the countryman.
    ‘I want to find out what happened. I won’t do anything that’ll get in the way of that.’ Nehesy’s dignity made Huy ashamed of treating him like a hick.
    They left before dawn, aiming to return soon after first light, before Nehesy would be missed, though as it was the Tenth Day — the Day of Rest — it was unlikely that the huntsman's absence would be noticed at all. The animals would not lack him, for the grooms would give them their morning feed. The dogs, as Nehesy explained with solicitude, were only fed once daily, in the afternoon.
    They travelled alone, taking Nehesy’s chariot, an old one, made of acacia wood with a sycamore axle bound in bronze and bronze fittings. Nehesy harnessed a pair of horses to the shaft, and released two of the dogs, Pepi and Ypu, from the pen. They darted out with whines of pleasure at this favouritism, while their fellows rose from sleep and loped a few paces before settling down again. Nehesy rubbed their noses and caressed them under the chin.
    ‘Won’t they be missed?’ asked Huy.
    Nehesy looked at him. ‘By the great god,’ he said, i wouldn’t have your job. What must it be like, looking over your shoulder all the time? I’ve told my wife that I’m taking out a private hunter - we’re not supposed to, but it’s my rest day, and from time to time I let my staff do the same thing — a little extra funds, and quite a few of the palace officials are good customers. And there’s something else too.’
    ‘Yes?’
    Nehesy looked at him, his big wolf’s face opening in a generous grin, it’s not something I expect you to believe, but there are no spies here.’
    Regretting it in his heart, Huy indeed did not believe him. The huntsman trundled the chariot out of the compound, the dogs scampering on ahead, looking and running back before darting ahead again, checking that they were on the course intended by their master, for though the palace owned them, they were Nehesy’s animals.
    As soon as they were free of the city, they gathered speed, Nehesy showed Huy how to jam his foot under the leather strap fixed to the floor of the chariot, to give him greater stability as they flew across the firm sand, heading south. The dogs, sure of their route now, had run away out of sight.
    Unused to this form of transport, Huy braced his feet and grasped the handhold at the front, trying to relax his knees at the occasional impact as the wheels found ripples shaped by the wind in the sand. He felt the breeze in his face and watched the backs of the horses’ heads as they rose and fell, manes streaming. Below them, the ground, grey in the moonlight, was a blur. They continued to rush forward at a speed which seemed to Huy to increase until they were going so fast that he could hardly draw breath. Then Nehesy hauled on the reins, clicking at the horses. They slowed immediately, turning in a broad half-circle before coming to a halt at a place where the remains of a fire were still visible.
    ‘This is where we camped,’ said Nehesy. ‘You can see the stones we gathered to hold down the corners of the tents.’ He pointed at a number of small cairns set at regular intervals from one another. In four larger piles at the centres of these groups of cairns the tent poles must have been placed.
    ‘The openings faced north?’ asked Huy.
    ‘They always do, to catch the wind.’
    ‘So no one could have watched the king ride off, and then followed him?’
    ‘Everyone except the king and Sherybin, and that one tracker, was here when we set off after them.’
    Huy climbed down. The hard, bright moonlight threw the piles of stone into sharp relief. The chariot stood in the centre of the abandoned camp like a thing from a dream. The horses kept their heads up, alert, and the dogs appeared on the edge of the darkness, keen, eyes flashing silver, their spirits