Gary Gygax - Dangerous Journeys 2 - Samarkand Solution (19 page)

As he dozed, the girl slipped out and soon returned with the things she had promised. Besides a light breakfast and Inhetep's usual tea, Xonaapi had somehow managed to find several fragrant incenses and a mixture of herbs. "Come on, Setne Inhetep, have a little food and some nice tea now," the girl urged sweetly, "for you need to maintain your strength."

"Very well," he responded, feeling very relaxed and too lethargic to even protest. The odor of the stuff made him feel hungry at that, so he began to nibble at a bun and sip the sweet mint tea. "What about you?" he asked politely after a bit.

"I had breakfast a little while ago," Xonaapi told him, meanwhile bustling about the suite. "Not too much of that, you know," she admonished the ur-kheri-heb. "You'll not want to go to bed with a stomach full of food, and if you have too much tea you'll never get to sleep!"

"You had all this brought up," Inhetep protested weakly, but he set aside the barley cake he had just picked up and bitten into, one which was glazed with honey and covered with crushed almonds. "One more sip of the tea to wash this down with," the magister added almost apologetically.

"What? I can't hear you." Xonaapi's voice drifted over the sound of flowing water as she filled the pool-like tub in the next room. "Better," the girl sighed in satisfaction as she returned to where Inhetep lolled before the half-eaten breakfast. "I see you've been a good boy and listened." She smiled as he viewed the scene.

"Boy? Ha!" the wizard-priest said with mock sternness. "I ceased eating only because I have satisfied my appetite."

"Isn't that splendid," Xonaapi told him agreeably as she cleared away the remainders and set them aside. "Do you know that you're a remarkably attractive man for one so old?"

"Nothing of the sort! I'm quite average in appearance, girl, and approach but my middling years!" Inhetep contradicted crossly.

Xonaapi gave a musical, tinkling laugh, and her tawny eyes sparkled. She tugged his hand and said, "Come on now, Grandfather Setne. You must bathe and get ready for bed."

"A full stomach precludes a bath," Inhetep chided, letting the rest pass. "I'll think I'll simply stretch out here on the couch and doze a bit."

Xonaapi wouldn't hear of that. "I made certain that your repast was light, and you need to have warm water and a good soak to both get dirt off and float your cares away. Then you can sleep better—and properly in your bed, Magister Setne Inhetep! Here, you follow me, and I'll see to the whole thing."

Inhetep pulled his hand free gently. "Never mind, Lady Xonaapi," he said with resignation. She was as impossible as Rachelle; possibly even more so! "I'll take care to do as you demand," he told her as he went into the bath chamber and firmly closed the door. The tub was filled, and the girl had set alight a little brazier. Resinous lumps of incense and strange bits of leaves and stems now sent a mixture of fumes into the air to mix with the moist vapors which arose from the deep, perfumed water. The wizard-priest stripped off his kilt and tunic and sniffed carefully, trying to identify the intermingled scents. He could discern three forms of incense easily enough, and one of the herbs was surely camphor, but the rest were unknown—at least when burned in combination. Tossing his clothing onto a nearby stool, Inhetep carefully entered the pool of steaming water, using the narrow corner steps to immerse himself slowly. "I hate hot baths," he grumbled aloud, "but the oils she's put into this seem to sink into my skin, so at least I won't be dry and wrinkly when I'm done with this ordeal."

It wasn't an ordeal at all, and the magister finally hauled himself quite reluctantly out of the water after half an hour because he was beginning to wrinkle after all, and the temperature of the bath had cooled past the soothing point. The brazier had also ceased its fuming, so the chamber was now only faintly redolent with lingering wisps of the exotic perfumes. Inhetep dried himself, shaved, and then looked for a robe, but only the towel and his soiled garments were at hand. He almost called Rachelle's name, then caught himself. Opening the door to the parlor, the ur-kheri-heb called out, "Xonaapi? Do you know where my sleeping gown is?"

When he received no answer, Inhetep went to the bathroom door and again called, but there was no answer. "Not more shopping!" he said aloud as he yanked the door fully open and stalked into the large chamber beyond to locate his garment.

"Later, perhaps," Xonaapi said. "You haven't had a chance to see all the things I've bought already, though. Do you like this one?"

She was nearly speaking in his ear, and at the first whisper of sound Inhetep had almost jumped, she startled him so. Then he stood still in near shock. He had neglected to wrap the towel around his waist, and the proper magister was now acutely aware of his nakedness. Furthermore, Xonaapi was clad in a filmy bit of material more suited to a harem than anything else. She might as well have worn absolutely nothing—better, in fact, to have done that, for the wisps of transparent stuff were more provocative than simple nudity. "Immodest," he managed, trying to turn away and retreat into the bath chamber. "Suitable only for—"

"Why, Magister! What's that?" the girl giggled, pulling on him so that he was unable to retire without a struggle. "I thought you disapproved of my costume."

"That's exactly what I was referring to," he said as he tried to extricate himself from her. "Now let me go, Xonaapi. I must put something on."

"You're always fretting about clothing, Setne Inhetep," the girl rejoined without freeing him from her grip. "You've seen me with nothing at all covering me, and we've slept together that way too, so why are you now being so . . . so . . . prudish?!"

The brief struggle and the verbal exchange had fortunately served to calm him. "Very well," the priest-wizard murmured with all the dignity he could muster. "I'll find my night dress myself and retire," and he walked stiffly into the room and began to rummage quickly through the case which held his few garments. "Now, where is that blasted thing?" Inhetep said as he tossed the last of his things aside.

"You don't need it," Xonaapi told him with a pout.

"Where is it?" Inhetep almost shouted.

"I hid it," the girl said, advancing toward him like a cat stalking a mouse. "We have something else to think about now, Setne, so you might as well forget about your old gown!"

Inhetep decided to try a different tack. He turned, looked hard and long at her, and then smiled lasciviously. "You're right, Xonaapi. Why not take pleasure while I may? You are very young and beautiful, and I have a thousand things to teach you. I'll make you into a proper love-slave, and you'll exist to bring me delight." So saying, the tall wizard-priest advanced toward her with an anticipatory light in his eyes.

"Now, Magister, don't be too hasty," Xonaapi (old him, retreating and holding up her palms to ward him off.

"Hasty? Never! I'll take my time, never fear, my little delight," he said, stalking forward. The girl turned and he was sure she would shriek and flee in a moment. "Stop, Xonaapi!" he said huskily. "You can't escape from me."

Just as he uttered that, the girl shoved him. Inhetep was taken by surprise and fell back upon the bed, for it was just behind his long legs. "Flee? It's you who would run," she laughed as she sprang atop him. "You're not nearly so clever as you thing you are, Setne Inhetep."

"Or is it that I'm actually very sly?" he managed to get out before her soft lips closed over his own. They exchanged kisses and caresses for awhile, then he had to ask, "Just what did you have in that incense, girl?"

"That's my secret, all-wise Magister." She giggled. "But I'll tell you that it does certain things to men—even those who think themselves too full of dignity and importance for a young woman, just because they have maturity and experience!"

"Drugged into submission," he lamented. "You'll have me up all day just when I should be—"

"Hush," she said seriously. "This is not the time for that. Besides, in an hour or so you can go to sleep, and you'll be ready for rest then, too. All concerns with your detective work will be forgotten for the hours you will spend between now and waking." She kissed him again, and as it began to turn passionate, Xonaapi pulled free and gazed into his green eyes. "Do you really know such things as you mentioned, Setne?"

"Things?" he countered with confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You told me that you had a thousand things to teach me," the girl chided him gently, even as she ran her fingernails along his chest and stomach. "I hope you weren't just play-acting," Xonaapi told him. "I do so want to learn. .. ."

Sometime later, he heard a distant bell, its golden chiming floating in the air as might little clouds in a spring sky. With its slow ringing there came an angelic voice, almost imperceptible but somehow insistent:

"S...e...t...n...el...n...h...e... t ... e .. . p," it called ever so sweetly and far off as the golden notes from the bell sounded. He was reclining on a goose down cushion, sunk into a drowsing idyll aboard a little boat which the ripples of the Nylle moved slowly along with a rocking motion as the warm sun comforted him. What place along the riverbank had such a bell? No matter. It would soon be lost to his ears as he drifted onward. Yet the call persisted. "Setne Inhetep," it came, and now it was nearer and louder and seemed threatening. He wondered how an angelic being could evoke a sense of danger, and as his mind slowly turned that thought over, the golden notes of the bell changed into a harsh clangor as if some brazen alarm were being struck repeatedly and with fearful urgency. The priest-wizard shot up from his repose, ready to ward off whatever threatened.

"Setne Inhetep!" Xonaapi said, this time a little crossly. "What are you doing? First you won't wake up, and now you're bouncing around in that bed as if you were a child. Stop that wild prancing and look!"

The demand brought him fully awake, and the magister realized he had been dreaming so soundly that the girl's attempts to awaken him had simply melded into his slumbering mind's images. He heard a tinkling and saw that Xonaapi wore a bracelet of silver bells and was clad in a very pretty skirt and the gold cape he had seen earlier, now topped by a collar and accented by sandals and sash which were also worked with beads and gold thread. "I see—and very pretty, too," he managed to mumble. Then he sat down on the bed, cross-legged, trying to orient himself. "May I ask what time it is?"

"Almost dusk, lazy Magister Setne!" she chided. "I'm getting ready for us to go out. Is this outfit to your liking?"

"Certainly, dear girl. It's splendid. . . . Out?"

"No, really! Please tell me if it's what the ladies of On wear at night, or will I be dressed all wrong? I wouldn't want to embarrass you this evening."

What did fashionable women wear for dinner? Inhetep scratched his chin as if he still wore a beard. "An excellent questions, Xonaapi. I'm not absolutely sure about such matters, but . . ."

"Oh, you don't like it," she cried with disappointment.

"I didn't say that at all," he nearly barked. Then in gentler tone, he suggested that she show him the whole of her new wardrobe, hoping that by seeing what she had acquired he would be able to recall exactly what the wealthy folk in this city dressed like when out on the town. Xonaapi began bringing out garment after garment until the magister's head swam. Finally he told her, "You have on exactly the right costume, dear lady, except I think some gold bangles should replace the bell bracelet—and an exotic fragrance such as jasmine should be liberally applied to perfume your skin."

"Thank you, Setne Inhetep. Now don't you think you should put on something, too? After all, you said that you were expecting your friend, the chief inspector, as soon as it got dark."

Inhetep groaned. He'd forgotten entirely about Tuhorus and the murders. Worse still, what would he do with Xonaapi while he and the policeman went about their business? For that matter, what would that fiend Tuhorus jibe him about when he got a look at the girl now? Her appearance was subtly altered, and Xonaapi definitely radiated a possessive air with regard to him. The man couldn't miss it. "Very well. It won't take more than a few minutes for me to dress and be presentable. Perhaps you should go and see if Chief Inspector Tuhorus is waiting for us downstairs while I do so ... eh?"

Of course the girl agreed, for she now thought of herself as Inhetep's hostess, lady, and more. The priest-wizard groaned again, then almost shuffled as he made his way into the bath chamber to shave and make himself ready for what was to come. What had he gotten himself into now? After managing to shake off the last vestiges of his all too brief rest and donning fresh clothing for the evening, Inhetep gathered up the few items available to him for use in performing heka practice, lamenting the lack of magickal materia at his disposal as he did so. That made him think of home, which of course called to mind Rachelle. The amazon would have seen to it that he had packed such things as he now needed, but she had been too preoccupied with her own affairs to attend to that. Well, it served her right, the magister thought smugly. Her neglect, Rachelle's interest in the foppish noble, had brought this all to pass. Xonaapi was one thing to worry about, though. Perhaps something terrible would befall him due to the lack of proper compounds and implements for the performance of heka. Then Rachelle would be sorry indeed. "By the Bennu's Bill!" he exclaimed aloud. "I reflect as might a schoolboy who's just been packed off on punishment."

Inhetep stood straight, squared his shoulders, and marched out. He would manage everything tonight, from the girl to the murder, and never would Rachelle know of his predicament.