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horn-crowned head lowered to her supplicants. I paid for an offering of incense and knelt before the altar, gazing up at the goddess as the blue smoke arose, reminded of Naamah, who had laid down with the King of Persis on Blessed Elua’s behalf, of gentle Eisheth, the healer, to whom I had prayed too seldom.
    I prayed to them both, now, and to Isis, in whose lands I travelled. Merciful goddess, I prayed, restorer of life, make me whole. Make us all whole. Whether or not she heard and was minded to grant my prayer, I cannot say; I was a foreigner in her lands, and too far from my own. Nonetheless, my heart felt lighter when I left.
    “You see?” Outside the temple, Kaneka smiled at me. “I told you you would like this better.”
    That night we made camp not far from the outskirts of Majibara. Indeed, sounds of the city were carried on the night breezes-a skirling sound of pipes, a burst of uproarious laughter, faint and distant. Tomorrow, our numbers would dwindle further. Achara and Binudi, the two Nubians, would depart, continuing westward along the Nahar, while the rest of us would strike south for Meroë.
    Safiya, who was a native of Meroë, told stories of her city’s glory and that of its regent, Queen Zanadakhete, who ruled over all of Jebe-Barkal. Her honor guard, she told us, was two thousand men, none shorter than six feet tall, all clad in splendid embroidered capes and bearing swords and spears and shields made of the patterned hide of the camelopard, tough and light-weight. I was not sure I could credit such stories, but Kaneka assured us they were true.
    Thus passed our last night upon the river.
    I would be sorry to leave it. It was a pleasant mode of travel, aside from the crocodiles. Wali moped the whole of the way, clearly hoping Kaneka would change her mind and choose to stay with him. As for Wali, I think if he had not loved his boat so much, he might have gone with her, but no craft can navigate the cataracts of the Nahar, which are narrow and strewn with rocks, broken here and there by sharp precipices.
    Majibara was vast indeed, a city of yellow sandstone made even larger by the number of caravans camped on its outskirts. We sailed into the city itself and took lodgings at what Wali swore was a reputable inn, hiring porters to bear our goods.
    Menekhetans, Jebeans and Umaiyyati dominated, for there is trade overland from the Ahram Sea. Of a surety, there were no other D’Angelines-but nor did I see Caerdicci or Hellenes, or any of the more familiar nations.
    And our journey was scarce begun.
    What we would have done without Kaneka, I cannot say. She was a shrewd negotiator and wise in the ways of Jebean travel. One camel looks much like another to me. They are odd, ungainly creatures with great, furred humps upon their backs and lambent eyes, with lashes like a woman’s. They can bear prodigious amounts of weight and go for many miles with neither food nor drink, traversing the desert sands on broad, splay-toed hooves.
    They are also notoriously unpleasant and their shambling gait a torment, but that I learned later.
    We spent the better part of a day arranging transport for Achara and Binudi, and that was accomplished in fine form, a train of donkey-porters hired and the transaction registered with Majibara’s Master of Caravans. The women were excited, which I was glad to see; I do not think, until then, they entirely believed they would be returning home. I prayed they would find the homecoming they deserved. If nothing else, they were laden with spoil, and greed may prevail where compassion falters.
    What stories they would tell their families, I never asked.
    Our own arrangements took considerably longer. It would require a forced march of some seven days to regain the river. While this would cut a month or better from our route, it would be grueling. There was only one watering-hole along the route, and that of salt water so bitter only the camels could drink it. The rest, we must carry ourselves. To that end, where we had spent lightly in Iskandria, trusting in the route’s rich provisions, we spent heavily in Majibara. Water-skins we bought in abundance, and two great casks to augment our supply; and sacks of sorghum for camel-fodder. For ourselves, we would carry a supply of dried meat cut in strips, dates and a crumbling white cheese made of goats’ milk, none of it especially appetizing. Jebeans are great hunters, and where they cannot get fresh game, they make do with