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left the definition of untouched to Amarkash. Let me get the wineskin. I think a drink would calm your nerves.”
    Setting her gently on a rock ledge, he rose to get the wine. He’d bathed, rewrapped his own wounds, and donned a coarsely woven, brown-striped Hyksos kilt while she’d slept.  
    “I was supposed to take care of your injuries,” she protested when he came to sit down, touching the bandage on his arm lightly with her fingertips.
    He glanced at his arm as he worked to uncork the wineskin. “I’m perfectly capable of doing field dressings.”  
    “I don’t drink wine normally.” She pulled away as he offered her the wineskin. “I have to keep a level head when I’m dancing for a crowd in a tavern.”
    “Trust me, you’ll benefit from it today. A few sips, to please me?” He grinned. “There won’t be any dancing. I’m not trying to get you drunk, only take the edge off your nerves.”
    “I wasn’t concerned about you trying to get me drunk,” she said with offended dignity. Drinking two quick swallows, she pushed the wineskin firmly away, slight tremors weakening her a bit. “I don’t like to lose control to the wine.”  
    When she dropped her head against his shoulder, her hair covered him like a soft blanket.
    “You’re shaking,” he said, rubbing her arm. “Are you warm enough?”
    Nima braided a plait of hair and then unbraided it. “I can’t get the nightmare out of my mind, much less the terror of the actual events. So many people dead, slaughtered. And the other young women weren’t as lucky as I was. Amarkash took me to his chariot, but I—I had to watch and hear what was done to the others. The women and the children and a few of the men who survived were sold as slaves to a slave master waiting outside town.”
    Kamin covered her restless hands with one of his, curling his fingers around hers, rubbing his thumb along the edge of her hand. “What about your family?”
      “They were away, performing at the name day celebration for a local noble’s wife. I pretended to be ill so I could remain behind.”
    “Why didn’t you want to go with them?” He took a swig of the wine himself.
    She closed her eyes. “It’s a long story.”
    “We’ve endless hours of daylight ahead of us since we don’t dare travel till nightfall. I’m a good listener,” he said, taking another short drink then capping the wineskin decisively. “Unless you think you could sleep?”
    Half-braided hair flying, she shook her head, opening her eyes wide and putting a hand to her forehead. “The dream is waiting, like a lion about to pounce.”
    “Well, then, distract us both with a story about the most beautiful dancer in Shield of Egypt province, handy with knives and poisonous herbs, who took pity on a poor soldier and rescued him.” He raised his eyebrows.
    “Sounds like a scribe’s tale for children when you describe the events of the past few days in such fashion.” Kamin was gratified to see a slight smile on her lips as she responded to his playful tone. “It wasn’t nearly as amusing to live through,” Nima said.
      “How is it you know about knives and herbs anyway?” he asked. “Hardly the usual training for dancers where I come from.”
    Nima fingered the amulet on her left wrist. “My mother was a disgraced priestess, from a small temple. I don’t know where.”
      Curious, he tried to identify which goddess might value dancing and knife-wielding assassins.Kamin frowned. “Which Great One did she serve? I myself am sworn to Horus.”
    “I don’t know. She died when I was young, and she never spoke of her life before, at least not to me.” With a dancer’s flourish, she held out her wrist. “This is my only clue about the goddess.”
    Holding her hand carefully in his much bigger one, Kamin examined the single glazed oval bead, about two inches long, threaded on a simple black leather thong, knotted loosely to circle her wrist. Pale aqua green in color, the flat