The next morning I went scouting. I put on my best look-like-an-Egyptian-woman outfit and walked to the market. Thing is, being pale and blond, I couldn't exactly blend in with the woodwork. I stick out like a sore thumb.
I looked over the horizon to see if I saw anyone -- namely Samir -- around town. I did not, so I figured the coast was clear.
The thing about talking to the locals is that you truly never know who you're speaking with. "Could you tell me everything you know about Samir Amin?" I asked this one lady in the general goods shop. I wanted to know just what I was up against.
The lady, of course, told me everything. Samir claimed to be descended from the ancient kings of Al-Simhara; hence, why he'd signed on with MorcuCorp to claim the relics. He and his wife, Fatima, had named their children, Satis and Imsety, after ancient Egyptian gods.
So, I figured, his delusions of grandeur went far beyond general arrogance.
"There was a third daughter, older than the twins, called Cleopatra," the lady told me. "To this day no one knows what happened to her. "
No comments:
Post a Comment