Guardian of the Horizon (18 page)

me. "Are you tired, Peabody?" "Tired, hungry, thirsty, and filthy, Emerson." "Oh." Emerson rubbed his chin in mild perplexity. He hadn't shaved for days, and his beard was at its worst, thick and bristly. I meant to see to that later, but at the moment all I could think of was water--cool, clean water, quantities of it, running over my entire body. I had fond memories of the baths of the Holy Mountain-- one of my few fond memories, I should add. "Let us settle in and make ourselves comfortable," I urged. "Where are the servants, do you suppose?" "Perhaps they are waiting to be summoned," said Nefret. She clapped her hands. "I refuse to deal with those swaddled handmaidens of the goddess," Emerson grumbled. "If one of them turns up I will send her away." The women who sidled in were not swathed in veils, nor were they the little dark-skinned rekkit who had waited on us before. We had had attendants like these too: women of what one might loosely term the middle class, wives and daughters of minor officials. Theirornaments were of copper, not gold, and their garments were of coarser linen than those worn by the nobility. An equal number of male attendants followed them, eyeing us warily. Nefret issued orders in Meroitic, and I saw that Ramses was watching her with that hooded look of his. She spoke with fluent authority; her tone and manner had changed in a way I could not quite define. The servants scattered, and Nefret said to us, "I have told them to bring our luggage and prepare food. Do you want to bathe before we eat, Aunt Amelia?" "I believe we all should," I replied. "Go ahead, Father," said Ramses. "I believe the menservants are indicating that our quarters are through that door. I will join you shortly." "Going to have a look round, are you?" Emerson inquired. "Hmmm. Don't do anything I wouldn't do, my boy." "Don't do anything he might do," I corrected. "Are we to go this way, Nefret?" "There are several suites of rooms here," Nefret said with the same unnerving assurance. "Come with me, Daria." Our suite consisted of several small bedrooms and a bath chamber. Daria pleaded to enter the bath with Nefret; she had scarcely spoken a word since we arrived and shrank away from the servants. Nefret, who did not suffer from false modesty, readily agreed. I, who did suffer from it, took my turn after they had finished. Pure physical pleasure drowned all thought as I allowed the women to minister to me with the skill I remembered, washing and drying my hair, rubbing oil into my dry skin after weeks of perspiration and dust had been removed, wrapping me at last in towels of linen. When I joined Daria and Nefret, I found them examining the clothing that had been laid out for us: robes of sheer pleated linen held in place by colorful sashes. "Dear me," I said. "This won't do. We will have to wear clean undergarments beneath them." "I haven't any clean undergarments," Nefret said with a grin. "And I doubt you do, Aunt Amelia." The bags containing our clothing and other personal necessities had been brought to the bedchamber. I didn't have to open them toknow Nefret was unfortunately correct. "Well, you cannot appear before persons of the male gender in that transparent garment. The men are joining us for dinner, I presume? Yes. Hmmm. Let me think . . ." It took a while to convince the servants that I meant what I said, but they finally brought us robes like their own. We put the pleated linen on over these, and after I had inspected Nefret and Daria, I decided it would do. "You have been very silent, Daria," I remarked. "I am in wonderment" was her low-voiced response. "I had heard ... I had heard tales of such places, but believed they were only stories." I patted her shoulder. "You are adapting admirably to these new experiences. Continue to do so. Now let us see what there is for supper. I do look forward to a proper meal." As I had expected, the men were already in the sitting room, if I may so term it. Emerson's beard was as ebullient as ever, but Ramses was clean-shaven and Selim had trimmed his beard. A thrill passed through me at seeing my spouse once again attired in the costume that became his stalwart form so well: a knee-length kilt of white linen fastened at the waist by a jeweled belt. Ramses and Selim wore similar garments, but Daoud, modest man that he was, had wrapped himself in a large piece of linen--probably a bedsheet. Nefret clapped her hands again, and the servants began to carry in small tables and stools, two to each table, and dishes of food. Daoud sniffed appreciatively. "But I cannot sit on one of those," he protested, indicating the little stools. "Sit on the floor, then," I suggested. "The tables are low enough. Do sit down, all of you, you needn't be so formal." "There is nothing formal about this costume," Emerson grumbled. "They wouldn't give me a shirt." The fixed regard of Daria-- fixed, to be precise, on the magnificent musculature of his bare chest--seemed to disconcert him. He turned red and subsided onto one of the stools. "My dear, you look splendid," I said, carefully not looking at his bare legs, which were of a considerably paler shade than the rest of him. "So do you all." "Yes," Daria murmured. She had transferred her interested stare to Ramses. In the becoming but barbaric costume he bore an uncanny resemblance to the ancient Egyptians shown in statues and reliefs, broad of shoulder and slim of waist, his skin the same shade of reddish brown. The moisture of the bath chamber had caused his thick black hair to cluster into curls, and the result was strikingly like one of the short Nubian wigs worn by noblemen of the New Kingdom. At first we were too hungry to converse. Roast goose and fresh vegetables, bread still warm from the oven were a welcome change after days of short rations. Even the thin, rather sour wine was refreshing. Daoud refused to touch it until I explained that the local water was probably not safe to drink. "Does not the law admit exceptions in cases of necessity?" I asked. Daoud allowed that perhaps it did, and after a time we all became very cheerful. Selim, who had spent most of his life working in the tombs and temples of ancient Egypt, was intelligently fascinated by everything around us. He kept jumping up to peer closely at a row of hieroglyphs or a painted bird, and bombarded Emerson with questions, which the latter was of course delighted to answer. While the others were laughing over one of Daoud's stories (which would probably not have been quite so funny without the wine), Ramses got up and began prowling round the room. I joined him. "Is something troubling you?" I asked. "A good many things trouble me." He glanced at his father and lowered his voice. "There is something wrong here. Can't you feel it?" "You intended to do a little exploring, I believe. Did you find anything to make you uneasy?" He drew me behind one of the columns and leaned against it. "I didn't have time to explore the whole place. It's even larger than the other palace we stayed in, with a confusing maze of rock-cut chambers at the back. I suspect there is a back entrance, as was the case inthe other house, but it is well hidden, and when I started prodding at the walls, I was politely but decidedly urged to leave." He hesitated for a moment and then said, "The front entrance through which we came is now closed by a heavy door. It is locked or bolted on the other side." "That could be for our protection." "Against what? Oh, I agree it means nothing in itself, but . . ." I patted his arm. "Perhaps such uneasiness is solely the result of fatigue. "We have been welcomed as honored guests--they didn't even blindfold us when we passed through the tunnels." "Yes." His face softened. It was not quite a smile, but close to it. "I didn't mean to cause you uneasiness, Mother. You must be very tired. Why don't you go to bed?" "All that food and wine has made me uncommonly drowsy," I confessed. "We should all retire, I believe. I do not doubt that all our uncertainties will be resolved in the morning." Emerson gave me a reproachful look when I sent him off with the other men, but he was too shy about such things to announce his preference publicly, or to take me by the hand and lead me into my bedchamber with everyone looking on. As for me, I had no intention of going to bed with that beard. The two girls took one of the sleeping chambers and I another. The room was cool and dim, lit by a single lamp. The bed had springs of woven leather with pads of folded linen atop; after the surfaces on which I had reclined of late, it felt as soft as a feather bed. Weary as I was, I had no trouble in falling asleep, but my slumber was not sound. Fragments of dreams slipped in and out of my sleeping mind. Once I thought I saw Abdullah's face, but he did not linger or speak. Another image was that of Nefret, clad as I had first beheld her in the white robes of the High Priestess of Isis, with her loosened hair falling over her shoulders. There were birds too--the jewel-bright birds of the fabled city of Zerzura, fluttering and swooping and uttering high-pitched cries, more like human voices than birdsong. I woke quite refreshed, however, to find rays of sunlight piercing the shadows through the high clerestory windows. The firstcreak of the leather springs brought one of the serving women, who helped me into a loose robe and bowed me into the next room, where breakfast was being brought in. It was not long before Emerson joined me, similarly attired and rubbing his eyes. "What I wouldn't give for a cup of coffee," he mumbled. "I dreamed I could smell it." "So did I," I said, and so strong was the power of imagination, I fancied I still could. "I have some tea and sugar left, though, and as soon as I have sorted out our baggage I will instruct the servants how to brew it. Where are the others?" "Coming." One of the servants offered him a bowl of fruit, and another presented a platter of little cakes, sticky with honey. "Urgh," said Emerson. "I swear to you, Peabody, I can still smell--" He broke off, his eyes widening, as with great empressement another servant poured a dark, fragrant liquid into our handleless earthenware cups. Emerson snatched his up and drank. "Good Gad," I exclaimed, after sampling mine. "It is coffee. Where do you suppose they got it?" "I don't give a curse where they got it," said Emerson, motioning the servant to refill his cup. Ramses came in, followed by Selim and Daoud. "Good morning, Mother. Good morning, Father. My olfactory sense must be out of order; I thought I smelled--" "You did," Emerson exclaimed, beaming. "A delicate attention on the part of Tarek, I expect. He must have gone to considerable trouble to obtain it for us." Ramses's expressive black brows tilted, but he accepted the cup the servant handed him without comment. "It is good," said Daoud, unsurprised. "But not strong enough. Or sweet enough." "They use honey as a sweetener here," I explained. "However, I have some sugar left. I will get it, and waken Nefret and Daria." "They must have been very tired to sleep through this racket," said Emerson, whose voice had been the loudest. He went on sipping his coffee with a look of utter bliss. Ramses put his cup down. "Mother. Did you look in on them this morning?" "Why, no. I thought it best not to disturb--" He moved so quickly I had to trot in order to catch him up. He parted the curtains with a single sweep of his arms. Nefret and Daria had vanished, along with the bags and bundles that contained their personal belongings. The tumbled coverings on the two beds were the only sign that anyone had been there. "One of them must have called out in the night," I exclaimed. "I took it for the cry of a bird." We had searched the entire house, including the dark rock-cut storage chambers at the back, looking for some indication of how the girls had been carried off. Their disappearance could not have been voluntary; Nefret would never play such a trick, leaving us to wonder and worry. There was no doubt in my mind that the wine had contained a sleeping potion of some sort. If there was a back door, we did not find it. The servants were nowhere to be seen. Emerson's fury and frustration rose to such a pitch that he kept flinging himself against the wooden door in the sitting room. He succeeded only in bruising his shoulder. He was finally distracted by Selim, who dragged out two of the menservants whom he had found trying to hide under the low bed in his room. Daoud took one of them by the shoulder and began shaking him, while Emerson shouted at them both in a mixture of English and Arabic. "There is no use going on with this, Father," said Ramses, who had managed to interpose a few questions in Meroitic. "They dare not admit knowledge even if they possess it. Selim, sheathe your knife. Daoud, stop shaking that poor fellow, you will snap his neck." "Yes, we must keep our wits about us," I cried. "Quite right, Mother." Outwardly he was the coolest of us all. Only a keen observer like myself would have noticed the unnatural calm of his voice. "May I suggest you leave off brandishing that jug before you hit yourself on the head? I don't believe the girls are in imminent danger, and until we learn what and who are behind theirabduction we cannot take the proper action. The only person who can help us is Tarek himself." With a wordless snarl Emerson rushed back to the door and began beating on it with his fists. The result was instantaneous and so unexpected that Emerson stumbled forward through the opening straight into the individual who had flung the portal wide. He and Emerson both fell to the floor. Beyond them I saw three other men attired like the first, in military uniform--brown linen kilts and wide belts to which were attached long daggers or short swords. They carried spears, and on the left arm of each was a long oval shield covered with animal hide. Ramses pounced on his father, and by main strength managed to drag him off his victim, whom he had by the throat. "Father, stop it," he gasped. "Mother, can you make him--" He let out a whoop and doubled up as Emerson's elbow drove into his ribs. My intervention was not necessary. His son's cry of pain had struck through the red mists of anger into the strong core of paternal affection. "Good Gad," Emerson exclaimed. "My dear boy, accept my profound apologies. I didn't realize it was you. Not hurt, I hope?" Ramses shook his head dumbly. Taking advantage of his temporary inability to speak, I remarked, "Pull yourself together, Emerson. I believe we are about to receive a delegation. At least we were, until you knocked one of them down. I am sure I do not know how they are going to respond to--" "It was his own fault," Emerson said sullenly. "Coming at me like that." Ramses had got his breath back. "If you remember, Father, this procedure is the one followed before, when we were visited by an emissary. Distinguished