Two Eyes Cenote Shm'Usert

If the going was hard, khusobek did not say. if his shoulders ached, he covered this with a grin. if his legs hurt in the following hours, the crocodile told nazli a story, as much to distract himself as to remember he carried a beautiful idol to the queen's court.

they stopped. he remembered what her physicians had said and kept her meal small, offering more if she wished. "we are at the edge of muat-riya," he explained, cracking open a sheep's marrow-bone for nazli. "you will be in comfort by tonight."

khusobek stripped gristle from a rabbit's leg, more a morsel than anything in his jaws. "the prince himself wrote for you. i am surprised. these days he mostly writes the queen."