Egypt Read Online Free Page A

dog.
    â€˜Just looking at you makes me feel old.’
    He grinned.
    â€˜Cheerful as ever,’ he replied.
    â€˜What are you doing here?’ I said.
    â€˜I was just passing,’ he said.
    â€˜A likely story…’
    He let Thoth sniff his hand, and then stroked his head.
    I pushed a stool at him, and poured him some wine. He drank, grimaced, but said nothing, just gazed into the bitter wine, as if it told him everything he needed to know.
    â€˜If I’d known you were coming, I’d have ordered something classier,’ I said.
    He gazed at me. ‘It’s a disgrace.’
    â€˜I know…’ I nodded in agreement, and refilled my bowl with more bad wine.
    â€˜I mean you–you look as miserable as a mule.’
    â€˜You’re in a good mood, obviously.’
    He nodded, and nonchalantly walked over to the landlord. He returned with another jug of wine, and poured us fresh bowls. It was the best the place could offer.
    â€˜You haven’t turned up here just to flatter me in my self-pity,’ I said.
    He leaned closer, and raised his bowl. His eyes were alive with delight.
    â€˜We’re having another child.’
    I felt my face light up with a slow, genuine smile. ‘You have my congratulations, and my best wishes for the child.’ I raised my bowl to him.
    â€˜I knew you’d be pleased. It’s taken a long time. I’d begun to believe it would never happen again. But the Gods have been kind…’
    I said nothing, for I dislike talk of the Gods, who taunt us with their promises, and whose disappointments we must always accept.
    â€˜Don’t look too excited, eh?’ he said.
    â€˜Sorry. It’s been a strange night. Truly, it’s a bad world to bring a child into, but I’ll do my best not to pass on my customary gloom.’
    And we toasted the unborn child with our superior wine.
    â€˜What were you looking at when I came in?’ he asked casually.
    â€˜Nothing.’
    â€˜Right.’
    He knew how to add the perfect touch of sarcasm to his tone. I showed him the papyrus. He didn’t seem at all surprised by it.
    â€˜Where did you find this?’
    â€˜In the mouth of a beheaded Nubian kid, early this morning,’ I said.
    He nodded.
    â€˜These beheadings are turning into an epidemic,’ he said.
    â€˜And they’re getting better at it. And now they’re leaving strange signs…’ I added.
    He leaned forward, and returned the papyrus to me. And then, thoughtfully, he added: ‘Do you really think this is just the work of one of the gangs in the city?’
    â€˜Probably,’ I replied, carefully.
    He glanced at me.
    â€˜I can’t see it.’
    â€˜Why not?’ I said.
    He settled his arms on his knees.
    â€˜The Theban gangs are all families. They behave like families: they love each other, they hate each other; they want what the others have got; they kill each other; they make up, they pretend to love each other again; they think they’re kings, building empires and dynasties, so they marry their sons to their rivals’ daughters; and so on and so on. But the truth is, they’re always in cut-throat competition with each other for the same things: manpower, resources, trade routes, political influence, protection, the opium supply. Sometimes the friction becomes too much, so they snap, and there’s some predictably messy bloodshed, and then mourning and grieving and furious cursing and threats of revenge; and then they all try to make up, because in the end none of them have the power to dominate the others,’ he said.
    â€˜So what? Smuggling and trafficking are as old as time. It’s no mystery why they’re flourishing now, that’s just what happens when the legitimate government is as flawed and weak as ours. And, frankly, the powers that be are just letting them get on with it… We’re living in a failed land, and they’re the