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.But that begs the question: why attack us in the first place?"Linnea shaded her eyes against the slanting ruddy glow of sunset, peering out through the forest of prows and masts of the incoming boats."Do you suppose we'll ever know?"Ashe shrugged.Linnea sighed."It was fortunate that Stav and Kosta went out hunting vents.""I don't think the Baldies can find our boat, as long as they don't see anything to cause them to attack and investigate more closely," Ashe said.Did he sound as doubtful as he felt?"Our lab rats at home shielded the equipment fairly well in that boat; I doubt there's enough EM escaping to bring down alarms.""Not over what must be emitting from there," Linnea said, looking up at the volcano."True—"Ashe's words died when he saw the Baldies go tense and alert, their faces raised.Though no apparent signal was received, as one they set out at a fast pace, uphill, directly north.Ashe thought of the attack on their camp, then looked at small Linnea, who had not had the time to get any sort of defense training."Go on to your room and watch.Brief the others when they turn up," he said tersely."I'm going to try to find the Baldies' base."She did not argue."Good luck."——————————LINNEA HURRIED BACK toward the city gates by the lurid red light still glowing in the west.She still had plenty of lapis lazuli, but she did not want to waste one on a smelly, scarcely functional torch.She was not the only person running to beat the oncoming darkness.Akrotiri at night glowed with dim but welcoming golden light, tiny pinpricks from uncounted lamps.She passed through the gates and ran the short way across the first market area toward her house.By the light of the lamps many were still lingering over business; the day's heat was now just a stuffy sort of warmth and far more bearable.Linnea paused to trade for some grapes, more because she delighted in speaking with the people than for any other reason, and then bought a big bucket of water.The bucket pulled at her shoulder joints, making her feel hotter than ever, and some sploshed out until she got the right rhythm for walking with it.Never again, she vowed, would she take for granted the infinite blessing of running water.Of course some of the buildings had their own running water, even now, despite the quake destruction.She could hear and even smell it, a faintly sulfuric odor coming from an underground hot spring, but she had none in her little room.And so she withdrew to it, and by the light of a swinging lamp coming weakly through the window opposite, she gave in to—oh, don't just call it temptation.The smell, the itchiness, of her underclothes had become so repulsive that washing them was now the first priority of her life.She undressed under her robe, keeping well into the shadows of her room, though no one glanced in as people walked by.All the windows were open, and on the still, warm night air she could hear voices.She purified the water first, then drank.After that she washed her face and hands, and then her body as well as she could without completely undressing.And then she scrubbed her underthings.Since she had no soap, she scrubbed and rescrubbed until her hands felt red and tender, and the cloth smelled just like damp cloth.But where to put them?She took the bucket out and splashed it into the gutter that ran downhill along the outer edge of the street.The bucket was to be returned in the morning.Until then, it was hers.She draped the underclothes over the bucket, set it in the corner, and then lay down on the woven straw pallet that Eveleen had bought for them the night before.The dampness of her robe cooled her enough so that the very faint breeze felt pleasant.Cooking smells wafted in, and the sounds of voices, so few now each was distinct: low laughter from across the way, a fretful child, a couple having an argument, all the more fierce for being whispered.In the distance, far away, some voices began singing a song, the melody strange and yet curiously familiar, too.It pulled at the heart: a lament?Linnea drifted into sleep.When she woke, it was to the awareness of movement, of breathing.She looked up in dismay and amazement.Four women had crowded into her room, one of them being the bucket's owner.One, a young woman in the tight jacket and flounced skirt of the prosperous, held up her camisole and underwear—the good cotton, machine-stitched underwear, and the fine cotton-silk camisole—and shook it at Linnea.She then made a demand in a language that was only vaguely familiar.CHAPTER 10LINNEA STARED UP at the women, her brain at first refusing to work.Was she dreaming? No, her neck was gritty, her mouth dry, and she realized she knew this language; the woman had spoken in Egyptian.And now the women all looked at her with expressions ranging from curious to wary.Wary.What was it Gordon had said? There is no record of a woman speaking a foreign tongue, surprising people with things that never have been.The woman frowned a little, then said again in her rough, stilted Egyptian, "Where got you these?"Linnea thought rapidly, but another of the women forestalled her, saying in better Egyptian, "Why do you not trade this? You and the young one brought that old cloth from Kemt to trade, but our young girls make better." She turned her chin over her shoulder, making a spitting motion.Curiosity was swiftly turning into hostility.7 am the stranger here, Linnea thought, and she cleared her throat."I wish we had such cloth to sell," she said."Oh, how I have searched."The women listened, the one's hostility easing slightly."You tell us, then, that this is the only such things you have?""Yes," Linnea responded."They were brought back for me by my man, from the Land of the Dragon, far, far in the direction of the morning sun.""Ah," said the older women, all nodding."I have heard of that place," said the one with the jacket."Some of the sailors have spoken of it.And the fine things that come from there, rare and precious.Precious enough for only the great families to trade precious artifacts of gold or very fine pearls."Linnea, following instinct, said, "It is really for younger women, these fine things.You may have them, if you like."The one with the jacket gaped in surprise and then pleasure.The youngest one gasped, running her fingers with reverence along the seams."How tiny the threads are, how even [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]