Free Mara, Daughter of the Nile by Eloise Jarvis McGraw Page A

across the green and sparkling river, which was struck with fire where the sun’s rays touched it.
    Lord Sheftu. A great nobleman, he was—as far from the likes of her as the very sun up yonder. He must have been amusing himself in truth, these seven days!—seeking hercompany, flaunting his charming manners, even holding her in his arms a moment. But it was clear what he thought of her. Guttersnipe!
    At that moment Sheftu walked along the edge of the deck and paused, leaning on the rail. She could not see his expression, for his profile was black against the dazzling sky. But there was weariness in his pose, and he looked lonely, human—far different from the deadly menace who had lounged against that bale. Perhaps it was true, that he had no stomach for this day’s work.
    Mara turned away angrily, not wanting to look at him, not wanting to think of the fact that the price of her freedom was his destruction.

Chapter 6
Frightened Princess
    SAANKH-WEN proved to be a squat, middle-aged man with a stupid face and eyes that seemed half-asleep. He barely looked at Mara when she showed him the scarab and asked for instructions.
    “Interpreter? Aye, I remember now. You’re to find the Inn of the Lotus, it’s close by, just yonder where you see the donkey turning into the alley. They’ve got their orders there—mention my name.”
    Mara started in the direction he indicated, glancingabout her curiously. The wharfs of Abydos were not so different from those at Menfe, though the traffic had an unfamiliar character. There was less merchandising here, fewer foreign vessels. Instead there were funeral barges. She counted eight in the harbor this moment. Abydos was the most ancient and sacred of all cities; the god Osiris himself was thought to be buried here, and all who could afford it arranged for their funeral processions to make pilgrimage from their own cities to this Gate of the Underworld before the final ceremonies of entombment.
    The Inn of the Lotus was easy to locate, since it had a carved wooden flower swinging over its doorway. Mara entered, identified herself to the vacant-faced woman in charge, and was directed up an outside staircase. In the room above, a coal-black slave girl awaited her. Mara discovered almost immediately that she was deaf and dumb.
    Thoughtfully she followed the girl into an adjoining bath chamber, where great jars of water stood about the walls and the stone floor sloped to a center drain. The queen’s man had made very sure of secrecy in this process of transforming her from a ragged slave into a person “above suspicion.” The woman downstairs was vague and stupid, this one was deaf and dumb, and Saankh-Wen himself incurious.
    All the better for me, reflected Mara, remembering the menace in Sheftu’s voice that morning when he had warned her again against trickery. The
Silver Beetle
was to loiter upriver until noonday, when the barge of the princess should overtake it. After seeing for themselves that Mara was safely on board, Sheftu and Nekonkh would proceed to Thebes, and she would be free—to carry out her own plans.
    She frowned. It gave her little pleasure to think about those plans. She turned her attention instead to the enjoyable ministrations of the black slave girl.
    The jars of water were poured over her, her hair wascleansed and trimmed and her body rubbed with scented unguents until it glowed. Then, leading her back into the first room, the slave pointed to a little carved chest that stood in one corner. Mara opened its lid, and the last of her uneasy humor vanished. There were piles of snowy linen, leather sandals—she had never owned sandals in her life, even the common sort woven of palm fiber—there were a few pieces of jewelry, colored sashes, a warm white woolen cloak, deeply fringed. There was a whole wardrobe in that chest, even to the pots and vials containing scents and cosmetics. It was not too lavish. It was scaled perfectly to the needs of a priest’s