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s noon and dropped like a stooping falcon。
In the mud Taita heard the sharper shriller sound of its flight and looked up。 He saw it ing straight at him； and there was no time for him to fall off his primitive craft or even to duck to avoid it。
Involuntarily he closed his eyes。 The arrow passed so close over his head that he felt his hair stirred by the wind of its passage。 Then he heard the solid thump of the strike。
He opened his eyes and rolled his head towards the sound。 The long arrow had taken Bay in the middle of his naked back。 It had transfixed his body； and the flint head had buried itself in the board on which he lay； pinning him to the wood like a shiny black beetle。
Bay's face was only an arm's length from his own。 Taita looked into the deep black eyes； and saw the agony of death flare in them。 Bay opened his mouth to cry out or to speak； but the copious rush of bright blood through his lips drowned any sound。 Painfully he reached up to the necklace around his neck； and pulled it loose。 He reached out to Taita offering him； as his last gift； the priceless relic that was twisted around his clawed fingers。
Taita gently untangled it from the rigid fingers and dropped the string around his own neck。 He felt the essence of the dying shaman flowing from it into his own body； reinforcing his powers。
Bay's head dropped forward； but the arrow prevented him rolling off the board。 Taita recognized the leopard inlay on the shaft of the arrow； and knew who had fired it。 He reached across； placed two fingers on Bay's throat and felt the moment of his passing。 Bay was gone； and no effort on his part could save him。 He left him and swam onwards to where Nefer and Mintaka stood on the far bank calling encouragement to him。 Four more of the long arrows dropped close to him； but none touched him and he drew slowly out of their reach。
Nefer met him and helped him to his feet in the thick mud。 Taita used his staff to help himself out on to firm ground。 He sagged down； gasping for breath。 After only a minute he sat up again； and stared across the sinking sands to where Trok stood on the far bank； arms akimbo； every line of his body and head betraying his rage and frustration。 Then Trok cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted； 'Think not that you have escaped me； Warlock。 I want you and I want my bitch back。 I will have you both。 I will run you down。 I will never lose the scent。'
Mintaka walked forward as far as she could go。 She knew exactly where he was most vulnerable； and how to humiliate him most painfully in front of his men。 'Dear husband； your threats are as flaccid and empty as your loins。' Her high sweet voice carried clearly and two hundred Hyksos warriors heard every word。 There was a shocked silence； and then a great roar of mocking laughter went up from their ranks。 Even his own men hated Trok enough to take pleasure in his humiliation。
Trok brandished his bow above his head and stamped with helpless rage。 At last he turned； snarling； on his men and they fell silent； abashed by their own temerity。
In the silence Trok shouted； 'Ishtar！ Ishtar the Mede； e forward！'
* * *
Ishtar stood at the edge of the sinking sands and faced the little party on the far bank。 His face was covered by the patterns of tattoos。 His eyes were surrounded by purple whorls； his one wall eye shone like a silver disc。 A double row of red dots ran down his long nose。 There were fern…like tracings across his chin and cheeks。 His hair was set into long hard spikes with red shellac。 Deliberately he loosened his robe and let it fall to the sand。
He stood stark naked； and his back and shoulders were covered with leopard rosettes。 A huge star of red was tattooed on his belly and his pubic hair was shaven； which emphasized his enormous dangling penis。 Tiny bells of gold and silver were hooked through his pierced foreskin。 He stared at Taita； and the Magus stepped forward to confront him。 The gap between them seemed to shrink as they stared at each other。
Slowly Ishtar's member swelled and the bells tinkled as it stiffened into a massive erection。 He thrust his hips forward； pointing the angry red head at Taita's。 It was a direct challenge； emphasizing Taita's eunuch status； and exerting Ishtar's masculinity over him。
Taita lifted his staff and pointed at the Mede's groin。 Neither moved for a long while； projecting all their strength against each other like thrown javelins。
Suddenly Ishtar groaned and ejaculated； spurting all his seed into the sand。 His penis shrivelled； being small； wrinkled and insignificant。 Ishtar sank to his knees and hurriedly pulled on his robe to cover his humiliation。 He had lost the first direct confrontation with the Warlock。 He turned his back on Taita and shuffled back to where the two priests of Seueth and the Nubian shaman squatted。 He joined their circle； and they linked hands and began to chant。
'What are they doing？' Nefer asked nervously。
'I think that they are trying to divine the way around the sinking sands；' Mintaka whispered。
'Taita will stop them；' Nefer said； with a confidence he did not feel。 Suddenly Ishtar sprang to his feet； with renewed vitality。 He let out a cry like a raven's hoarse croak； and pointed south down the sand valley。 'He has chosen the route the falcon revealed to us；' Taita said quietly。 'We are not yet safe。'
Trok's regiments mounted。 With Ishtar riding beside Trok in the leading chariot they trotted away southwards following the winding river of fatal mud。 As they passed； the troopers shouted threats and defiance at the forlorn group on the opposite bank。
After the dust settled they saw that Trok had left a small force； five chariots； ten men； camped under the dunes on the far bank to keep them under observation。 Soon the last chariot in the pursuit column was gone into the yellow heat haze； and was hidden by the bend in the valley walls。
'Before nightfall Trok will have found the way across to our side；' Taita predicted。
'What can we do？' Nefer asked。
Taita turned to him。 'You are Pharaoh。 You are the Lord of Ten Thousand Chariots。 Give us your orders； Majesty。'
Nefer stared at him； speechless at this taunt。 Surely Taita was jeering at him。 Then he stared into those ancient pale eyes and saw that there was no mockery in them。 His anger rose in his throat with the bitter taste of bile。
He was about to protest； to point out that they had lost everything； all their vehicles and water； and that there was a burning desert ahead of them and a relentlessly pursuing army behind them but Mintaka touched his arm； which steadied him。 He stared into Taita's eyes and the inspiration came to him。
He told them his plan； and before he was finished Hilto was grinning and nodding； and Meren laughed and rubbed his hands together。 Mintaka stood closer to him； proud and straight。
When he had given his orders； Taita nodded。 'That is the battle plan of a true pharaoh；' he said。 His voice was flat and without emotion； but in his eyes was a spark of approval。 He knew at last that the task Lostris had set for him would soon be finished。 Nefer was almost ready to take charge of his own destiny。
* * *
They had covered no more than a few leagues when Ishtar pointed forward。 Trok halted the column and strained his eyes in the strange yellow light and the shimmering heat…haze。 Ahead the valley of the sinking sands narrowed sharply。
'What is that？' Trok demanded。 It seemed that some sinuous sea monster was swimming across the gap。 The crest of its dorsal fin stuck up from the yellow mud； black and sharp…edged。
'It is our bridge；' Ishtar told him； 'a ridge of shale running from one bank to the other。 This is our crossing。'
Trok sent two of his best men ahead on foot to scout the shale bridge。 They ran lightly across and reached the far side with dry sandals。 They shouted and waved to Trok and he whipped up his horses and followed them across。 In single file the rest of t