A Face Turned Backward by Lauren Haney

By Lauren Haney

Homicide AND GREED within the historical LAND OF AMON

The many and effective deities of Egypt needs to be given their due. All trade is carried out lower than the watchful eyes of the functionaries of the nice Queen Maatkare Hatshepsut. loss of life faces any and all who may possibly rob the royal hose of Kemet of its rightful percentage. Lieutenant Bak, commander of the Medjay police, willingly accepts his task to look all Nile River site visitors for contraband -- for rumors are rife of invaluable elephant tusks passing unlawfully from the south to the north. yet greed has spawned dying, hideous and unforeseen, and anyone who might develop into wealthy illegally is dealing in way over important ivory. Whoever threatens to reveal a deadly cache of secrets and techniques won't reside to work out a brand new sunrise -- and dependable Bak may be the subsequent, as he heads relentlessly towards a grim war of words, a stunning revelation, and intensely attainable doom within the realm of the dead.

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Another day of this wretched task, Bak thought, and I’ll be the most infamous man along the frontier, shunned by all. He had another thought and laughed aloud, surprising a fisherman stowing his nets in the prow of his boat, preparing to cast off and sail home to his village. No, not the most unpopular. From what he had heard from men newly arrived from Kor, Nebwa in his usual tactless way had already outstripped him for first place. Thanking the lord Amon that the day was nearly over, Bak stopped at a gangplank bridging the gap between the quay and a long, slim traveling vessel.

Beside it stood the old guardhouse Bak and his Medjays used as a prison and operations center. Barracks blocks and a sector of interconnected villas housing officers and A FACE TURNED BACKWARD / 23 scribes and their families occupied the far side of the nearly square citadel. Pinpoints of light scattered across the rooftops reflected the brightening stars in a sky turning dark. Each dot represented a baked clay brazier and a family sharing their evening meal. Smoke mingled with the odors of cooking oil, onions, braised fish and fowl, and the ever-present smell of manure wafting into the citadel from the animal paddocks in the outer city.

Imsiba was still on deck, probing baskets and chests and bundles, chatting, laughing, making light of his task. The Medjay’s smile, his good humor, and most of all his thoroughness had never failed to scare the truth from men with something to hide. Ramose, seething with anger, tore his gaze from his ship to look at the wreck. “When last I saw this vessel, the men were unloading a cargo of grain at Kor. Captain Roy said he meant to stop next at Buhen for a load of copper bound for Abu. ” Bak was loath to praise men who took what belonged to others, offending the lady Maat, but he had to give the thieves their due.

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