Soldier of Sidon by Gene Wolfe

never praise you enough."
    I did not know how to answer; but Uraeus said, "My master is quick and strong. I only hope he is watchful as well." Clearly that was meant as an added warning to me.
    "He is a soldier, of course," the scribe said, "but then they were all soldiers. Some of our sailors said they were sorry, at first, that they had not been invited to take part; but when they saw you wrestle Baginu and Aahmes, they were glad they hadn't been. Would you like to hear all they said?"
    I said I would rather we spoke of something else.
    "Easily done, because I want to ask a question. Have you been down here long?"
    "I haven't," I said, "but Uraeus was down here alone earlier."
    "You didn't happen to see the cat, did you? Or the phantom woman?"
    I said we had not, and added that I had thought they had been driven out by priests, something Myt-ser'eu had told me earlier.
    "So did we." The scribe sat down. "This is a sensitive matter for me, you understand."
    I admitted I did not.
    "I was the one who suggested we stop at the tomb-temple of Sesostris when the problem first surfaced." The scribe cleared his throat. "I'm a priest myself. You need not remind me of that. But I'm not skilled in exorcism and own no storied wand. I thought it better to go there and have everything done properly, and my master agreed."
    "Qanju?" I asked.
    "Yes, of course. As a priest I took part in the exorcism. A small part, but a part. We'd rehearsed exorcism in the House of Life when I was younger, but this was my first experience of the actual rite and I very much hoped that it would be successful."
    I said, "But it wasn't." It seemed safe.
    "No, it--no. Last night ...We were ashore. Do you remember that, Lucius?"
    I said I did, though I did not.
    "I caught a glimpse, more than a glimpse, really, of a--of a cat. An
enormous
cat, you understand. Very, very big. And black. Naturally I wondered."
    "All cats are black at night," I said.
    "No doubt." The scribe laughed. "No doubt at all. But still ...Well, I began asking questions, and one of the sailors said he'd seen the woman not long ago. It wasn't Neht-nefret or Myt-ser'eu. He seemed quite certain of it. Another woman of about the same age, quite beautiful, wearing a lot of jewelry."
    "He didn't speak to her?"
    The scribe shook his head. "He was frightened, I'm sure. Perhaps he was simply frightened of her--I would be, I think. Perhaps he knew the cat would appear to protect her if he threatened her."
    I said, "Could he have known that?"
    "I don't see why not. The sailors aren't exactly open with me, and one of them might have tried it and not told us."
    "You know it," I said, "or you wouldn't have spoken as you did. Did it happen to you?"
    The scribe shook his head. "My master told me. I wasn't sure they were linked, the woman and the cat. But he says they are. When he says something like that, he knows. He says the cat is with her, invisible, until she's threatened. It shows itself then so that she can escape."
    Uraeus whispered, "It cannot be with her always."
    "I suppose not." The scribe shrugged. "There is a man who comes to the White Wall often who has a trained baboon, a big male. It will attack on command, or if it sees its master being attacked. He takes it with him whenever he goes out. But when he's at home it's locked in its cage."
    I said, "Not an invisible baboon."
    "No. One of the ordinary baboons who worship Ra. You say you haven't seen the cat down here, or the woman?"
    "No. Not this time, at least. I suppose I could have been down here earlier, seen them, and forgotten it."
    "I doubt it. You saw them both earlier, and described them to Qanju and me. You said the cat was large, half again as large as most cats."
    I asked whether I had been afraid of it.
    "I don't know. I doubt it. But the cat I saw was much larger than that. It must have been every bit as tall as a greyhound at the shoulder, with a tail as long as my arm." The scribe paused, biting his lips. "Sometimes unsuccessful