wilbursmith_warlock-第136部分
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er your mand； well trained and well equipped；' Taita advised Nefer。 'These captains who have e over to you are good； loyal men； and I know you can count on them。 However； there will be many others who remain true to Trok and Naja； either in fear of the consequences when the false pharaohs return or because they believe in their divine right to rule。 Also； there will be many who are undecided； but who will turn against you if they detect any weakness。'
Then we have much to do。' Nefer accepted this advice。 'We must still break the last of the horses we took at Thane and plete the repairs to the chariots from the dunes。 Then our men must finish their training so that they can stand up against Trok and Naja's veterans。 When we have done these things； we will return to Egypt。'
So the little army of Gallala redoubled its efforts to build itself into a force to challenge the might of the false pharaohs。 They were inspired by their young mander； for Nefer worked harder than any of them。 He rode out with the first squadrons long before dawn； and with the other warriors of the Red Road at his side； and Taita to advise him； he gradually forged his divisions into a cohesive body。 When he rode back into the city； weary and dusty； in the evening； he would go to the workshops where he cajoled and argued with the foremen armourers and chariot builders。 Then； after he had eaten； he would sit up in the lamp…light with Taita； going over the battle plans and the dispositions of their forces。 Usually it was after midnight when he stumbled to his bedchamber。 Mintaka woke and rose from the bed without plaint to help him strip off his armour and sandals and to bathe his feet and massage aching muscles with sweet oils。 Then she warmed a bowl of wine and honey to help him sleep。 Often the bowl dropped from his hand before he had finished it； and his head flopped back on to the pillow。 Then she would slip off her chiton； take his head on to her bosom and hold him until he woke to dawn's first promise。
* * *
Each day Meren sank a little lower from the wounds he had received on the Red Road。 Taita had strapped his broken ribs and they had healed swiftly enough。 He had sewn back the torn ear so neatly that now it was cocked only slightly awry； and Merykara thought that the half…moon scar down his cheek made him look older and more distinguished。 However； the sword thrust under his arm worried even Taita： when he probed it he knew from its angle and depth that the weapon must have penetrated Meren's lung。 Twice； when it seemed to have healed over； the wound broke open again and leaked foul…smelling pus and fluid。 Sometimes Meren was lucid； able to sit up and eat without assistance。 Then； when the morbid humours welled up again； he sank back into semi…consciousness and fever。
Merykara stayed at his bedside； changing his dressings and anointing the wound with the unguent Taita brewed for her。 When Meren was stronger she sang to him and related all the news of the city and the army。 She played bao with him； and made up rhymes and riddles to amuse him。 When the wound turned again； she fed him and bathed him like a baby； stroking his sweat…soaked head until he calmed。 At night she slept at the foot of his bed； ing awake immediately every time he stirred and muttered in delirium。
She came to know his body as intimately as if he had been her own child。 She cleaned his teeth with the green twigs of the acacia tree； chewing the ends into a stiff brush with her own small white teeth。 She dressed his hair； brushing it until it grew out long enough to plait again。 She trimmed his nails； and came to know and love the shape of his fingers calloused by the hilt of sword and chariot reins。 She scraped the wax from his ears； and the dried mucus from his nostrils without the slightest revulsion。 She used her own ivory b on the soft dark hair that grew in thick clumps under his arms； curled on his chest and nestled at the base of his belly。
Each morning she washed every part of him； every crease； plane and bulge of hard muscle； and mourned as his flesh melted off him in the fevers and his bones began to show through。
At first she averted her eyes from his manly parts as she washed them； but soon this seemed prudish to her。 Then she cupped them in the hollow of her hand and studied them closely。 They invoked in her feelings of tenderness and passion。 They were so soft and warm； the skin so smooth and flawless。 Then her emotions changed when she gently drew back the skin in the way that Mintaka had shown her； and the pink tip popped out； silky as an oleander petal。 It stiffened and swelled in her hand until she could barely enpass its girth with her thumb and forefinger。 When this happened she felt a strange； breathless sensation； and a warmth in the most unlikely parts of her own anatomy。
One night she woke with the moonlight from the window lying like a silver bar across the stone floor of the chamber。 For a moment she thought she was in her own bedchamber in the river palace of Thebes； but then she heard Meren's painful breathing； the incoherent cries inspired by his nightmare； and it all came back to her with a rush of dread。 She jumped up naked from her mattress at the foot of his couch and ran to him。
When she lit the lamp； she saw that his eyes were wide open but unseeing； and that his face was ashen and contorted； there was a white scum on his lips and his body was shining with running sweat。 He was throwing himself about so violently on the crumpled linen sheets that she was terrified he would injure himself further。 She knew that this was the crisis Taita had warned her to expect。
'Taita！' she screamed。 'Please； we need you now。' Taita's cell was across the courtyard from theirs； and he always slept with his door open so that he could hear her call。
Taita！' she shrieked again； as she threw herself across Meren's chest to restrain him。 Then she remembered that the Magus had gone into the desert with Nefer and a squadron of chariots on some mysterious expedition； and it was unlikely that they would return for many days。 She thought of calling Mintaka； but her chamber was at the other end of the ancient palace； and she dared not leave Meren。
She was on her own。 She knew that Meren's life was in her hands； and at that thought she felt her panic subside。 A cool determination took its place。 She lay against him and held him tightly； whispering encouragement and reassurance。 After a while he calmed so that she could leave him for a moment。 She went to the chest against the window wall； found the vial that Taita had left for her； mixed the pungent contents with wine and warmed it on the brazier as he had instructed her。
When she held the goblet to Meren's lips he tried to refuse； but she forced him to drink。 When the bowl was empty she heated water and washed the sweat from his face； the scum from his lips。 She was about to wash his body when a sudden seizure racked him； and he began to shake and groan。 Her terror returned in full force。 She flung herself on him and clung to him with all her strength。 'Do not die； my darling；' she pleaded with him； and then in a stronger voice； 'I will not let you die。 O Hathor； help me。 I will drag him back from the underworld with my own hands。' She knew she was in a battle； and she fought with him； extending all her strength and adding it to his。 When she felt him go limp in her arms and his sweat…drenched body start to cool； she cried out； 'No； Meren； e back！ e back to me。 You cannot go without me。
She placed her mouth over his and tried to breathe her own life into him。 Suddenly he gave an explosive gasp； emptying his lungs； and she thought it was all over。 She hugged him with both arms around his bony chest； and when she released the pressure he took another noisy breath； then another and another。 The flutter of his heart bee a strong； regular thumping that reverberated through her frame。
'You have e back；' she whispered。 'You have e back to me。' He was still cold； and when he shivered； she held him with both her arms around his chest； and wrapped her legs around his hi
