The Amulet of Power - Mike Resnick [32]
“All but one of us, anyway,” said Hassam, still mortified.
“You’re right, of course,” Omar said to Lara. “We’ll have to return to Lake Nasser.”
“I don’t like it,” said Gaafar.
“We have to have water,” said Lara. “And now we have some use for the spare tires,” she added, indicating the two camels that had been tagging along since the journey began.
“We won’t have much use for any of the camels,” said Omar.
Lara smiled. “We’re going to buy a felluca, right?”
“Wrong,” said Omar. “We’re going to steal one.”
“Why take the chance?” asked Lara. “I have more than enough money.”
“The Mahdists are looking for an Englishwoman who is heading south along Lake Nasser and the Nile,” explained Omar. “If we purchase it, even if you do not speak, someone will figure out who you are. Even if they care nothing for the Mahdists, they have no reason to keep your identity a secret—and I assure you that the Mahdists will give them more than ample reason to reveal it to them. No, it is much better to steal it in the dead of night and let them think it was a thief from a neighboring village.”
Lara turned to Hassam. “Move over,” she said wryly. “You’ve got company.”
“I do not understand,” said Hassam. “Move where?”
“Never mind. It doesn’t translate very well.”
Suddenly Lara realized that Omar was staring intently at her in the dim moonlight.
“Is something wrong?” she asked at last.
“As I said, you don’t have to utter a word to be identified as an Englishwoman. No Moslem woman wears shorts—certainly not like yours—and none would carry pistols.” He walked to his saddlebags, pulled out a robe, and tossed it to her. “Put this on. I am closer to your size than Gaafar or Hassam.”
She got into the robe, then stood still while Gaafar wrapped her head.
“Well?” she asked when they were done.
“It drags on the ground,” observed Omar.
“What difference does that make?” asked Gaafar. “She will be sitting in a felluca.”
“If no one gets too near,” said Omar, “if they see you from the shore while we are on the boat, if no fisherman’s boat comes close to ours . . .”
“It will work,” said Gaafar decisively. “It hides her shape sufficiently. She can pass for a teenaged boy.”
“I get the feeling Omar doesn’t think so,” replied Lara dubiously.
“Yes he does,” said Gaafar. “But it is Omar’s job to anticipate the unexpected so that we can be prepared for any eventuality.” He looked at her again and repeated: “It will work.”
“Yes, probably it will,” said Omar. He glanced around the oasis. “I was mistaken,” he announced. “There is no sense burying the camel or clearing the area of footprints and hoofprints. Let’s ride to Lake Nasser. With luck we can be there a few hours before dawn and be a few miles away before anyone realizes a boat is missing.”
“Right,” replied Lara, nodding her agreement. “And you weren’t mistaken; it was my suggestion. I didn’t think it through.”
“I know I will regret asking,” said Hassam. “But why are we not trying to hide the fact that we were here and that we know the water is poisoned?”
“If we spend three or four hours making the oasis pristine, we won’t reach Lake Nasser until daylight,” said Omar. “We want to steal a boat, not acquire one in a pitched gun battle.”
“Besides,” added Lara, “the wind will soon die down. It may cover the first few miles of tracks we leave, but we’re more than twenty miles from the lake. Unless you know a way to cover all the tracks we’re going to make, it won’t be too long before the Mahdists figure out where we’re going.”
“We can talk while we ride,” said Omar, “and time is of the essence. We must reach the lake before sunrise.”
Lara took the last swallow from her canteen. “How long will it take to reach Lake Nasser?” she asked as El Khobar rose to his feet and fell into step behind Gaafar’s camel, with Omar’s next to hers and Hassam’s bringing up the rear.
“Perhaps five hours, perhaps six,” replied Omar. “With luck we’ll get there four hours before dawn, which is fortunate because I do not know for a fact that there