She made an angry noise through her gag and finally the boy’s eyes went to her face. Again she flashed her eyes at him, urgently, and tried to turn them down to look at her own mouth. At last he understood, creeping up beside her to loosen her gag. As soon as her mouth was free she turned her face to one side and spat on the ground. Then she looked at the boy again and said: “Who are you?”
“My name is Khai,” he answered.
VI
The Coming of Khai
“Well, Khai, my hands are tied behind my back,” said Ashtarta. “You will untie them.”
Now he frowned—then started violently as Athom’s body twitched in a final spasm. Quickly, he checked the two corpses to ensure that they were well and truly dead.
“My hands,” Ashtarta repeated, watching his movements. “Untie them—now!”
Khai turned on her with a snarl. “Don’t you ever say please?”
“What?” her mouth fell open.
“I saved your life. They would have killed you—later.”
“Listen, Khai—” her voice barely contained her rage. “Untie me right now or I’ll have the skin whipped from your back! Who do you think you are anyway?” She frowned. “I’ve never seen you in the camp before, and you speak with a strange accent. Who—”
“I’m Khai,” he told her again, kneeling beside her. “Khai of Khem,” and after a moment he added: “Whom the Nubians call Khai the Killer.”
Staring at him, slowly her eyes grew wide. “Khem? But then why did you—?”
“Save you? You’re just a girl and they were ... animals! And killing’s a trade I have to learn, so that I might one day go back and kill the Pharaoh Khasathut. With such as these,” he glanced at the two bodies, his nostrils wrinkling in disgust, “—it was easy.”
He stood up, parted the reeds, narrowed his eyes and peered downriver. “Now I have to be going. I shouldn’t think your guerrilla friends will bother to look too hard for just one man.”
“Man?” she snorted. “You’re only a boy. And you still haven’t untied my hands!”
“Well, little harlot,” he looked back at her. “And why should I?” “Harlot?” she cried. “Harlot? I’m Ashtarta, Melembrin’s daughter!” Khai sneered scornfully. “Of course,” he said, “yes! Certainly you’re The Fox’s daughter. Huh!” He glanced yet again at the lower, naked half of her body. “And he lets you run bareassed up and down the riverbank!”
“Why, you—”
“Good-bye.”
“No, wait! Khai, listen. Untie my hands and—and I’ll give you anything.” It was not that she could not make her way back to camp alone, simply that she would not be disobeyed by a mere boy. Not even a boy with cheeky blue eyes who killed men as a killer born, then talked of “learning” the skill.
He came back and crouched over her. “And if I untie you, you’ll run back to your camp and tell them I’m here, eh?”
“No, no, I promise I’ll not tell,” she gasped. “I’ll give you—”
“Anything?”
“Yes.”
“Roll over.”
She complied and he took out a knife, slicing her bonds in a moment. She sat up, rubbed at her wrists and then, seeing that his eyes were back where they least belonged, pulled down the hem of her dress. As he grinned nervously yet again, she reached up and slapped him as hard as she could across the face. He jumped back in surprise, tripped and sat down with a thump on broken reeds. She laughed gleefully and wagged a finger at him.
“Oh, and is this how you Kushites pay your debts?” His eyes were scornful. “And you a king’s daughter and all. Shame on you!”
“I am the Princess Ashtarta!” she cried. “And indeed I pay my debts.”
“You promised me anything.”
“Yes,” she spat, gritting her perfect white teeth.
“Then give me that,” he growled, “which these dead men would have stolen from you.…”
Her mouth formed an O and her hand went to her suddenly flushed cheek. “How dare—”
“Huh!” Khai grunted. “Just as I thought.” But deep inside he was pleased. Plainly the girl was not just a little whore, though certainly there were prostitutes of her tender years in Asorbes. Also, he was not so sure that it would have been any good if she had agreed. A mere girl, she would not have Mhyna’s expertise. Expertise? Why, she would know nothing at all!
“Virgin,” he said, “I free you of your obligation.” Then, turning his back on her, he pushed aside the reeds and stepped out into bright sunlight.
A massive hand caught him by the shoulder as he emerged from the reed-clump, spun him about until he stared at the sun. Off-guard and blind, Khai instinctively reached for his knife. In that same instant, he heard Ashtarta’s voice shouting from behind him: “No, Ephrais, don’t kill him. He helped me!”
Hearing her pleas, Ephrais the sentry turned his notched bronze scimitar and checked its weight, so that only the flat of the blade near the hilt struck Khai’s temple, stunning him instantly. The boy’s knife spun from his hand and fell with a splash into the river; but Khai was no longer aware of that, was aware of nothing. Before he could fall, Ephrais threw him across a broad shoulder. Then the big Kushite took Ashtarta’s hand, saying:
“Come on, little princess. You’ll have to explain to your father what happened here. I’ve seen those two brigands in there—Theraens by their looks. Are there any more of them about?”
“I don’t think so,” Ashtarta panted, running to keep up with the striding giant. She saw an ugly lump on Khai’s temple. “Is he hurt bad? Have you killed him?”
“No, but I would have killed him if you hadn’t stopped me.”
“Even though he killed those two creatures who attacked me?”
“Yes, well, I didn’t know that, did I? And anyway, when our enemies fight among themselves, does it make them any less our enemies?” Ephrais paused in his striding, then led Ashtarta away from the river. The girl looked back to see why the sentry was avoiding a certain spot on the riverbank, gasping when she saw the leg of the handmaiden sticking out of a clump of grass. She recognized Launie’s leg by a red bangle round the ankle.
“Launie, she—”
“She’s dead,” Ephrais told her gruffly. “She followed you up the riverbank and I followed her. If you had not chosen to go running off, and if I had thought to follow more swiftly, perhaps the handmaiden would not be dead.”
Ashtarta shuddered. “And if this Khemish boy had not helped me, I would surely be with her.” She began to cry. “Oh, Launie.”
“Too late for that now, girl,” growled Ephrais. “If you must cry, do it for yourself. You’ll have good reason after we report to your father. He’ll have to decide what’s to be done with the boy. Meanwhile, you can tell me what you know about him—what he told you—if he told you anything at all.” He looked at her closely. “You seem very taken with him.”
“He helped me and … I made him a promise.”
“Oh? And what was that?”
“I promised him that—that he’d come to no harm,” she lied. But to herself she said: “One day, Khai of Khem—you strange, blue-eyed boy—I might just pay that debt of mine. But not until I’m Queen of all Kush and you’re a general in my army….”
And looking at her out of the corner of his eye, Ephrais wondered why the princess was blushing so furiously.