Black Salt

Black Salt - Chapter 19

 Nikias marched back into the city, Kalliphas hurrying to keep up. "A purge," said Kalliphas. "She's talking about a purge!"

He didn't answer.

"Writing those lists... It'll be like writing an order of death!"

"Really? You worked that out."

Kalliphas gave a frustrated sob. "Chief, if we write those lists... Every person on them will die. And you know what's worse?"

"Yes, I know."

Kalliphas answered his own question anyway. "We won't just be writing those death orders. We'll be-"

"I know!"

"We'll be the executioners!"

Nikias shook his head, and marched faster, forcing Kalliphas to strain to keep up.

"Chief... Nikias. I can't do it. It'll be murder. I didn't join the guard to murder citizens."

"Then leave," said Nikias.

Kalliphas froze, and Nikias felt his eyes burn into the back of his neck, but he kept on marching towards the city.

It took Kalliphas a full minute, but he decided to follow, because Nikias heard him run up. "I can't leave," he said, gasping for breath.

"Yes you can."

"...Well you can't!"

Nikias slowed down, and stopped. He drew his sword, and looked at his warped reflection in the iron. He felt as cold and heavy as iron.

...

"Well? Can you read it?"

The scribe wrinkled his brow and then his nose. He peered at the papyrus with watery green eyes. "Did you fish this scrap out of the sea, mm? It stinks of salt!"

His office was neat, too neat. The walls, inside as well as out, had been whitewashed, the floor tiles formed a mosaic image of the bird-headed god Thoth, and he gleamed. The old man sat in a hard, high backed chair, in contrast to his bent spine. He had tufts of grey hair poking out of his nose and ears, and a few wisps oiled flat across his weathered brow. He smelled of rancid oil.

"I don't care about the smell," said Nikias. "Can you read it?"

"Mm? Some sailor's hobby is it?"

Nikias and Kalliphas exchanged puzzled looks.

"Listen old man, this is important. A lot of lives are riding on this horse."

"Gliding? Mm, I see, it flew out across the bay and splashed down."

Nikias turned his back on the scribe, and bit down on his frustration.

Kalliphas leaned closer to the scribe, and yelled in his ear. "This is important guard business! For the king!"

"Mm, good."

Kalliphas waited for something more, and when the scribe did nothing, he threw his hands in the air, and turned away. "Your turn," he said.

Nikias crouched down in front of the scribe. He took a gold coin from his purse, and saw the scribe's eyes sparkle. "Good," he said. He pointed at his eyes, and then at the papyrus. "Read."

The scribe snatched the coin.

"Well?"

"This is old Egyptian," he said. "You have to go to the, mm, the library."

Kalliphas groaned.