Nima the Dancer and Kamin, an Egyptian soldier, are on the run after escaping from their enemies. They’ve taken temporary refuge in a nomad camp for a few days as welcomed guests.
“I want to dance for you,” Nima said licking a dab of spiced yogurt from her fingers.
Pausing in the act of raising his mug to drink, Kamin stared at her, the memory of her sinuous performance in the Hyksos camp fresh in his mind.
“A private dance,” she continued, blushing, not meeting his eyes. “How you choose to reward me for my skill is up to you.”
“When do you propose to provide me this performance?” I’m supposed to meet the clan chief in a few minutes but he can go swim in the lake of fire for all I care, if she’s offering her dance now.
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