Akhekh

The net was holding. That was the trouble.

Each time the Akhekh tried to open its left wing, the mesh dragged it down by the throat. Its hooves struck the stones beneath the sand with dry, sharp cracks. One of the hunters had lost his grip on the hauling rope; the other three were being pulled toward the bird’s beak a handspan at a time.

“Cut the wing free,” Merit said.

Kha caught her wrist before she reached her knife.

“Cut my net and you pay for it.”

Beyond his shoulder, her brother Teti had both heels dug into the sand. The rope ran across his chest. He was too small to be helping. Every time a grown man let go, he leaned farther back.

Merit pulled her wrist loose.

“Then put it against my wages.”

She went in low, where the wing hid her from the great hooked beak.

Up close, the creature smelled of dust and warm feathers. Its narrow legs belonged to an antelope, but the shoulder above her was thick with the roots of flight feathers. Three small cobras rose from its head. As it twisted, their hoods passed above the net like three lifted hands.

She had made the net’s joints herself. She knew which cord carried the strain.

A hoof hit the earth beside her knee. She flattened, waited for the next wrench of the wing, and cut the cord while it was taut.

The mesh sprang apart. Feathers struck her across the mouth. For a moment there was nothing in the world but blue-grey vanes and the hammering of her heart.

Then the wing folded.

The Akhekh stood trembling inside the remaining net, its beak turned toward her. Merit could see a pale thread of saliva between its mandibles. Blood from her bitten lip ran onto her chin.

Nobody moved.

“Teti,” she said, without looking around. “Put the rope down.”

“It’ll get away.”

“Put it down.”

His end fell. She heard it slide over the sand.

Kha exhaled behind her.

“Six sacks of grain,” he said. “You can afford a little cord.”

Six sacks would keep the roof over their workshop until the next harvest. Merit wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked again at the creature’s shoulders.

“The horse harness won’t fit.”

“Then make one that will.”

The Harness

By midday, they had brought the light chariot down from the ridge.

Kha had polished its rail until the red wood shone. There were no horses with it. From the beginning, he had intended the Akhekh to arrive at his patron’s gate between those shafts.

“There’s a picture of one drawing a king,” he told Merit, while she measured the breadth of the creature’s chest with her eyes. “I have seen it.”

“Did the picture show you where to put the straps?”

“It showed that it can be done.”

The Akhekh stood between two hauling lines, turning its head whenever a man moved. Merit approached it from the same side as before. She kept her hands low. The bird eye followed them.

She laid the broad breast strap against its chest, well below the throat, then took the traces back beneath the folded wings. There was scarcely room. Each time a feather caught under the leather, the creature stamped; each time she eased it out, the hoof stopped.

Teti crouched beside her with the spare cord. He had washed the sand from his hands but not the rope burn across his chest.

“Father would have charged twelve sacks,” he murmured.

“Father would have asked what he was harnessing.”

“You didn’t?”

“They said an antelope.”

He looked up at the three cobras. Merit almost laughed. The movement hurt her split lip.

At the back of the breast strap she made a slipped knot and left its release end long enough to reach from the chariot.

Kha saw it at once.

“A child could pull that open.”

“Someone may need to.”

“I need a beast delivered. Tie it properly.”

Merit left her hand on the loose end. Behind Kha, the men were packing the torn net. One was already measuring the missing section against his arm. She could guess what he meant to charge her.

“I can hold the strap clear,” Teti said. “From the chariot. Then it won’t catch.”

He wanted a job worthy of the grain they were earning. That was what Merit heard in his voice, and for a moment it was easier to hear that than the hoof striking beside her knee.

She drew out the slip. In its place she tied the compact knot her father had taught her for loads that must not shift. She dressed each turn, hauled it tight and pulled twice to test it.

Teti grinned at her.

She did not grin back.

The track descended toward a narrow river channel. Beyond it, a raised strip of firm sand led to the landing where Kha’s boat waited. Merit had crossed there that morning with the water below her knees. Now brown water covered the pale stones she had stepped on.

“We should unload at the bank,” she said.

Kha climbed into the chariot and took the guiding lines. Teti stood behind him, one hand around the rail, the other keeping the left trace away from the folded wing.

“We should have been there an hour ago.”

The hunters loosened their hauling ropes.

For three strides the arrangement worked.

The Akhekh walked with its head high, placing its small dark hooves among the stones. Teti lifted the trace. Merit walked beside the wheel and watched the leather move.

Then the path narrowed. A hunter raised his spear to turn the creature away from the drop.

Its head came around. Its wings opened.

Teti’s arm jerked straight.

“Let go!” Merit shouted.

He did. The trace slipped from his hand, caught a spread of feathers and cinched the left wing halfway open.

The Akhekh bounded.

The chariot struck a stone. Kha jumped clear, taking one guiding line with him. The sudden sideways pull wrenched the creature’s head around while its body was still going downhill.

The left wheel lifted. Teti fell.

Merit heard the floor crack under him.

What the Rope Held

The wheel came down again. The chariot was still upright, still moving, and her brother’s fingers were hooked through the wicker side.

Merit ran.

She caught the rear rail with both hands. For several strides her feet dragged, striking stones she could not see. Then she hauled one knee over the edge and fell into the chariot beside him.

His right foot had gone through the broken floor. A strip of wood lay across his ankle, driven down by the weight of his body. He was trying to lift himself by his arms.

“Stop pulling,” she said.

“It hurts.”

“I know. Stop.”

Ahead of them, the Akhekh ran crookedly, its free wing spread for balance, the other held by the trace. The chariot slewed with every bound. Merit reached over the rail and saw the leather disappear under a fan of bent feathers.

She could cut it. She could free that wing.

Then the cart would pull from one side only.

The bank was coming toward them. Brown water flashed between the creature’s legs.

“Teti. Hold my belt.”

She leaned out and slashed at the trapped trace. Her first stroke skated off. On the second, the blade bit through.

The freed wing struck the air.

The chariot swung so hard that Teti’s hand tore the belt against her hip. Merit threw her weight over the opposite rail. One wheel climbed the bank’s edge; for an instant she could see daylight beneath it.

Then the Akhekh leapt.

The chariot did not fly. It hit the channel in a burst of brown water that knocked Merit onto her brother.

Cold closed over her head.

She pushed against the floor and came up choking. The chariot had lodged sideways, one wheel buried in the soft bed. The current pressed against its side, pouring through the broken wicker. The Akhekh had reached the far edge, but its hind hooves were slipping in the mud. The one remaining trace ran taut from its breast to the chariot’s bent rail.

It heaved. The rail groaned. Teti cried out.

The creature could not pull the cart free. Every effort drove the broken floor harder against his ankle.

Merit put the knife down against the wood.

“I have to cut beside your foot.”

Teti stared at her. Water slapped his mouth.

“Then do it.”

She worked the point under the split strip. The wood was wet and springy. She could not get leverage without pushing on his leg. His hand closed around her shoulder, fingers digging in, but he did not ask her to stop.

On the bank behind them, Kha was shouting for a rope.

“Hold it, Merit! Hold the beast!”

She set the knife sideways in the split and twisted.

The blade bent.

For a terrible instant she thought it would snap. Then the strip tore lengthwise and Teti’s foot came free.

He dragged it onto the floor. She touched the swollen ankle once, quickly, and looked toward the far bank.

It was close enough to reach if they climbed along the leaning side of the chariot. A root stuck out beneath the sand. Above it, the Akhekh’s three cobras rocked against the sky as the creature tried again to haul itself clear.

“Up,” Merit said.

Teti shook his head.

“On your knees, then. Go.”

She pushed him onto the rail. He crawled along it, white-knuckled, keeping the bad foot raised.

A shape moved in the water beyond him.

Merit saw a ridged back, then two eyes. The crocodile was coming across the channel without a splash.

She caught Teti under the ribs and thrust him toward the root.

He missed it.

His hands slapped the bank and slid. Merit caught the back of his tunic before he dropped between the chariot and the mud. The cloth tightened across his throat.

“Again,” she said.

He reached. This time his fingers closed around the root.

She held his tunic until he had pulled his chest onto the sand.

The Akhekh scrambled beside him. Its hind feet found the bank, lost it, found it again. The breast strap had shifted upward. Merit could hear each breath rasp through the bird’s open beak.

Her knot held.

Behind her, a thrown rope struck the water. Kha had finally found one.

“Round the rail!” he shouted. “We can still keep it!”

Merit looked at the rope floating beside her. She could secure the cart. Men on the other bank could haul. The creature would be held between them, choking against its harness, until somebody found a way to bind its wings again.

Teti lay a few paces from its hooves. There was blood on the root where his hands had been.

She let Kha’s rope float past.

The crocodile’s tail moved. The water beside the wheel darkened.

Merit braced one foot against the axle and sawed at the last trace.

It was the good leather, doubled where she had wanted it strongest. The cut opened slowly. Above her, the Akhekh’s wings rose; as it strained, the chariot shifted toward the bank and the leather stretched thin beneath her blade.

She cut again.

The trace parted with a crack.

The Akhekh surged onto the sand. With nothing holding it against the current, the chariot rolled away beneath her feet.

Merit jumped.

Her chest struck the bank. Sand filled her mouth. One hand caught the root and the other clawed at nothing.

Something closed on the hem of her tunic.

She screamed and kicked. The cloth dragged her backward, then tore.

A crocodile’s jaws shut on the trailing strip. Merit hauled herself over the root, scraping her belly, and rolled into Teti. Together they scrambled farther up the bank.

The Akhekh passed so close that the wind of its wings flattened their hair.

It did not look at them. It took three running strides, hooves cutting sharp marks in the wet sand, and lifted clear of the channel. The loose breast strap slipped down its forelegs and fell into the water.

On the opposite bank, Kha stood with his unused rope in both hands.

The Loose End

They waited until Merit’s hands stopped shaking before they tried to walk.

Teti could put weight on the foot if she took most of it. They would have to go upstream to the shallows. It would be dark before they reached the workshop.

“Will he pay?” Teti asked.

Across the channel, Kha was calling the hunters down to recover his chariot. He had not called to either of them.

“No.”

Teti looked at the torn hem of her tunic. Then he looked at the bent knife.

“I can straighten that.”

“Tomorrow.”

He nodded.

Merit still had a short length of cord tucked through her belt. She drew it out and looped it around his wrist, then tied a knot he had never learned. He watched closely. When he pulled on the standing part, it held.

“Pull the other end,” she said.

He did. The knot opened into his hand.

They started upstream, her arm around his back. After a while, she felt him working the cord against her hip, tying it again, leaving the end where he could reach it.