Curse of Silence

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“The next one’s yours, my friend.” Sergeant Imsiba ducked around a pair of dressed geese hanging by their feet from the frame of a spindly lean-to. “Less than half the morning gone and already I’ve seen enough men dancing around the truth for one day.”

Lieutenant Bak, officer in charge of the Medjay police at the fortress of Buhen, grinned at the tall, dark, heavy muscled man walking by his side, his stride smooth, leo nine. “You’re much too generous, Sergeant.”

“I doubt that wretch thinks so.” Imsiba pointed toward a short, wiry man being hustled along a sandy path by two spearmen, one on each arm, heading toward the citadel gate. “Did you see the way he added weight to the balance each time he rested his hand on the upright?” The big Med jay shook his head in disbelief. “You’d think we’d have seen everything by this time, but the trick was new to me.”

“Another lesson learned, another triumph for the lady

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