Warrior of the Nile (The Gods of Egypt) by Veronica Scott Page A

any objection on the spur of the moment and so the question of dinner was settled.
    Taneb wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, but when Tiya remained adamant about having the new experience, he went off to make arrangements at an inn near the waterfront, owned by an old friend of his.
    Shortly after sunset, the two men escorted Tiya into the well-lit Red Heron Inn. She wore a plain blue flax dress she had bought earlier in the day, trimmed with only one thin ribbon at the square neckline. In this new dress she seemed more approachable, less guarded and self-conscious. She’d kept her new necklace on, and over her shoulders she wore a humble brown cloak. Khenet wore a plain brown shirt and an unpleated kilt, leaving off his golden badge of rank. He left his sword on the River Horse as well, but the deadly knife rode his belt.
    When she raised her eyebrows at his omissions he said, “For tonight we need to blend in with the ordinary citizens of Zauimu. Common folk don’t walk around the harbor district with tokens from Pharaoh pinned to their tunics and swords in their belts.”
    “Fair enough.” She adjusted her necklace and fussed with her dress.
    “You look fine,” Khenet assured her. Better than fine , he did not say aloud. “I know it’s not what you’re used to—”
    “All part of the adventure,” she answered with a happy smile.
    The inn’s owner, Imremy, greeted them at the door to his establishment, flanked by two buxom serving maids. “My humble Red Heron Inn is honored to have such unusual guests.” He bowed to Khenet and Tiya. Giggling, the women at his sides made surreptitious comments to each other, nodding at Khenet.
    He ignored them, scanning the big room, assessing the crowd assembled for an early dinner. Finding no threats or problems, he lowered his gaze to the innkeeper. “We want that table at the very back.”
    Imremy exchanged glances with Taneb and both men grinned. “He said you’d choose to have your back to the wall. I’ll have wine brought at once. Dinner will follow shortly. We’ve special entertainment laid on for the evening.” He winked. “Girls, escort them to their chosen seats.”
    The two maids stepped forward. One rested her hand on Taneb’s arm and the other reached for Khenet. Dodging the woman’s hand, he took Tiya by the elbow and steered her after Taneb . I’ve no desire for the distraction of a wench tonight . His first and only concern was Tiya’s safety.
    The disgruntled serving girl stomped off toward the kitchen. Khenet situated Tiya and himself on the woven rush mats behind the low scarred table. Backs to the wall, Taneb and Khenet flanked Tiya. Khenet adjusted his position each time her long curving leg, her dainty arm, or her silky hair brushed against him. The feel of her skin against his was distracting and more exciting than the bold serving girls’ obvious endowments. What is wrong with me? Where is my self-control?
    Eventually, the serving girl, still pouting, returned with a wineskin, and, behind her came a young boy staggering under an overflowing fruit platter. Steaming trays of roasted quail and other delicacies followed. Khenet selected the best bits for Tiya and set them on her plate, refilling her wine himself. Two women hovered around Taneb, one finally sitting down at his invitation and eating her dinner from his fingers. The other cast longing looks at Khenet but eventually left in a huff when he refused to pay her more than casual attention.
    “The food is really good,” Tiya said, dipping a morsel of pickled fish into a small bowl of sauce. “They get the spices just right. The heat lingers in the mouth but doesn’t burn.” She licked her fingers, and the unintentionally suggestive sight momentarily blanked out all thought in Khenet’s brain, as if someone had thrown a bucket of white paint over a mural.
    “I’m glad you like it, my lady.” Taneb winked at Khenet. “The other amenities aren’t bad either.” He squeezed