The Scorpion’s Bite Read Online Free Page A

Patrol.
    “You’re going to meet him in Petra,” Gideon told her. “He’s waiting for us.”
    “For us?” She felt less apprehensive about the trip. “You’re coming with me?”
    Gideon threw up his arms in a helpless gesture, raised his eyebrows in question and smiled at Jalil.
    Jalil smiled back at him. “El Tanib is under arrest,” he said to Lily. “You must go alone.” He leaned back and sipped his coffee. “You’re going to Petra! The glory of the Nabateans, the ancient masters of the desert”. He leaned forward again, his face animated. “The red-rose city, half as old as time,” he added, quoting a Victorian poet, much to Lily’s surprise.
    “Actually,” Gideon said, “the first signs of occupation were in the sixth century B.C.E., probably Edomite. The Nabateans probably showed up sometime in the fourth century B.C.E.”
    Gideon had excavated Nabatean sites, written a book and numerous articles about them.
    “Some say the Nabateans came out of Saudi Arabia, predatory camel-nomads who raided and traded frankincense and myrrh from Arabia Felix. Others say they are descendants of the Edomites. And some say they are mentioned in the Bible, as the Nebaioth, one of the sons of Ishmael.”
    In Roman times, the Nabateans controlled the desert trade of Imperial Rome. They built watchtowers to monitor caravans that crossed the desert tracks, stopping them for tribute. The Nabateans grew wealthy exacting payment for access to water from springs and wells, and for stops at caravanserai. They extorted tolls for perfumes brought from Arabia, for spices and silks that had traveled from India and China along the Silk Route as they crossed the desert on the way to Mediterranean ports.
    Petra was the Nabatean capital.
    Jalil turned back to the map. “There’s a track out of here leading north. Follow it until you reach a large wadi, where the track turns left.” He traced the route on the map with his finger. “Keep going.”
    “Here it turns north again.” Gideon indicated a curve on the map. “Pass Jebel Quweira and the remains of a Roman fort. The track forks here at Ras An Naqb.” He pointed to the spot. “There’s a steep slope and a wadi on the right fork. Take the fork to the left.” He leaned back with a wistful smile. “That’s Nabatean country.”
    Lily wondered how she could go off to Petra without Gideon. He was the expert on the Nabateans.
    “From there, it’s a straight shot to Wadi Musa.” Gideon looked inquiringly at Jalil. “You need this map? Can she take it with her?” When Jalil nodded, Gideon reached into a pocket for his pen, and began to ink in the route. “You’ll pass two villages on the way. Here.” He circled two small spots on the map with his pen. “And here.”
    ***
    The drive along the hard packed desert pavement took less time than Lily had imagined. By early afternoon, she had reached Wadi Musa, the Valley of Moses, just east of Petra.
    In the midst of stark desert crags, a little brook, derived from numerous springs, ran through a narrow ravine with a small village of mud-brick houses. According to tradition, this was the place where Moses smote the rock to bring forth water for parched Israelites on their way to the Promised Land after they fled Egypt. Now the copious water from the springs of Moses irrigated terraced fields planted with grapes, figs, and olives.
    Lily stopped next to a large house near the entrance to the village where Gideon had told her someone would be waiting. Behind the mud-brick wall that encircled the compound, she saw outbuildings and a courtyard with sway-backed horses buzzing with flies and tied to a hitching post.
    After a few moments, an older Bedouin emerged from the house, threw horse blankets stiff with sweat on two of the horses, saddled them, attached some lengths of frayed rope as rudimentary bridles, and came smiling toward her.
    He bowed with an elaborate gesture, sweeping his cloak behind him with one hand, extending