Shadows of the Nile (2 page)

“You would like to have my beautiful shawl,” he murmured.

Aline stared at him, trying to see more of him, but he drew back. His head was almost covered by the white hood of his long shift. The only part of his face she could see was his mouth, with perfect white teeth and full sensuous lips.

There was a sudden wind. The sand in it stung Aline's eyes and for a moment she couldn't see. Then it ceased as quickly as it had come.

“I…” Aline stood overawed.

He unwrapped the shawl and moved closer to her. Gently he put it over her head letting it fall onto her. Then he drew back.

“It will protect you from many things, including the sands of time, and the elements,” he murmured. He held out something else. “This is a dress, which you must keep until you find what you are looking for, and then wear it.”

Completely mesmerised, Aline just took it. She noticed his strong brown hands and slim fingers and the cuffs of his garment which were embroidered with tiny gold snakes.

“Thank you,” she faltered.

He bowed to her and walked off.

It wasn't until Aline got back to her room that she realised she hadn't paid him.

*

Aline started to write. She had broken off from the rest of her party, who had gone closer to the Pyramids and the noise of the many sellers excitedly trying to sell anything and everything. She wandered slowly round, sometimes being hassled, but ignoring whoever was there, or not even seeing them. She was stunned by the Pyramids, and was still absorbing it all; they were around her in the background and she could feel their age and their original beauty, and they were such an incentive to her. She had to record her feelings at that moment whilst she was still in that age-old powerful environment. She knotted the white shawl in such a way that it protected her arms from the sun.

One of the many male camel riders stopped before her and called to her.

“Hi, lady,” he shouted, with a grin. “You are so beautiful! So innocent! You come up on my camel and I will get someone to photograph us, and maybe we ride off together.”

Aline smiled at him and returned to her writing.

Later, she walked round a bit more, and then found a quiet spot where she could sit on a rock and be more comfortable in her task. Somehow her mind began to wander… back to times she knew nothing about. She visualised the strong young men employed to use their rippling muscles and build for their Gods and Pharaohs. She'd read how they were allowed to bring their families with them to a nearby village, and the men would return to them at the end of their shifts. They'd been pleased to do their job; to serve someone so high was reward enough for them. She guessed that when they outgrew their usefulness they'd be moved on, leaving others to do the work. So what had happened to them? Maybe their offspring looked after them. She liked to think so. And then she wondered if someone like herself had sat in that very same spot, watching out for a loved one, hoping nothing would happen to them in the sometimes dangerous and demanding work.

As she sat musing Gerald wandered up to her.

“I like your shawl,” she said, gently feeling the fabric. “It's very fine cotton, and very pretty. Almost the same as the ones they sell in the market, but see the pattern at the edge is different? It has tiny snakes all intertwined with each other. It must have been decorated by hand instead of mass-produced.”

Aline followed Gerald's finger as she traced the worked pattern on the side of the shawl. She hadn't noticed how intricate the lace was.

“I got it from a trader at the hotel last night, and a dress as well. I forgot to pay for them but I expect he'll be back this evening and I can pay him then.”

“Well, I'm surprised he didn't want his money there and then. Still one way these people get you to buy loads of things is to give away one supposedly free item; and then they get you to buy more. So I think he'll be there. Anyway you have something special. It's really beautiful.”

Gerald looked down at Aline's notebook.

“Ah, I see you've been making notes. It's a bit like sketching,” she remarked. “Cheng has gone down to the Sphinx to do some drawing. Shall we make our way there together?”

Aline wasn't quite ready to quit her spot and her work, but her train of thought had been interrupted and she agreed.

As they walked down the sandy path, crowded with many other tourists doing the same thing, Aline glanced at her companion who was unexpectedly quiet for some reason. She's a strange person, Aline thought, with her little face still completely white in the searing heat, and her ears which seemed to be constantly on the alert as they protruded from each side of her face.

“I think we have to go up a steep slope for a better view of the Sphinx,” Gerald said. “Ah yes, here we are. This area behind us is where the body was prepared and mummified and then it was taken up this slope past the guardian Sphinx and towards the pyramid for burial. Here, be careful, it's very steep. Follow me.”

Aline did. There wasn't much choice because the way to the top, near the Sphinx, was jammed with tourists and there was very little room to manoeuvre up the narrow path. There were people coming down and people going up, and everyone was packed so closely together it was almost claustrophobic. A thousand people seemed, as one united body, to dictate the way she should go. The climb was arduous and she could scarcely breathe.

“Did they ever entomb servants or slaves with the Pharaoh?” she asked Gerald.

“I don't think so,” Gerald answered over her shoulder. “I've never heard of bones being found anywhere. Not in any of the pyramids here, or in the Valley of the Kings. Of course they might have been removed at some stage, or even disintegrated. I believe they buried small figurines, called Shabtis; they were found in the Valley of the Kings. These could be brought to life with a spell from the Book of the Dead. The Shabtis would do all the menial tasks that the servants they represented performed in their own lives, so the Pharaoh wouldn't have to soil his hands in any way. There was quite a hierarchy amongst the dolls, with some in charge of others, so the Pharaoh wouldn't have to bother himself with managing the servants.”

“Very organised,” Aline said. Gerald knew an awful lot about the tombs, she decided.

“Ah, here we are! Now what do you think of that?”

Aline looked on in astonishment. The climb had brought them on to a level with the Sphinx. People were milling around, and tottering very near to a sheer drop, and taking photographs. She put them out of her mind.

“Oh, it's absolutely amazing. Just unbelievable. It's so… beautiful.” She smiled, absorbing the scene before her. “And look at the birds on top of its head.”

Gerald smiled too. “You probably won't be able to write anything here. If we go down you might find somewhere, although with all these crowds I think you'll feel as if you're on the rush-hour tube train!”

It was easier going back, and when they reached the bottom the crowds were thinner.

“I'll catch up with you in a bit,” Gerald said. “Just have to check up on Cheng and do some drawing myself. I'll be back later.”

Aline made for a building which was covered. She eased the shawl from her arms and let it drape onto her body. She hadn't enjoyed the walking up to the Sphinx and the feeling she was being forced to do something out of her control. But now she felt better. She went further into the building, down the uneven steps and away from the daylight and the crowds. As she got to the furthermost corner she suddenly tripped, catching her foot in a hole. Her notebook slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor. She reached for it, suddenly feeling dizzy, and slid to the ground. Blackness was about to engulf her.

Suddenly she thought she felt someone grasp her shoulders. A hand brushed across her mouth. Then she was tenderly caressed all over. She found she couldn't move or open her eyes. She had no power to fight, and didn't even want to, overcome suddenly with a desire for someone from long ago. Hands gently pushed up her skirt, and then tightly clenched each of her bare legs.

“Soon,” she heard someone say. “Soon.” And then it was gone.

Eventually, she opened her eyes, and sat up quickly, in shock. She took her shawl and pressed it to her face. Her book was in her lap. She looked round. There was no one near her. The vast room was completely empty.

She heard Gerald call. She came in hesitantly, then ran to her and put her arms round her.

“Are you okay? Did you fall? Some of these stones are very uneven. Are you all right? Oh, you have to be careful.”

Aline clung to her. “I tripped. I must have passed out. I'm fine. Honestly, I'm not hurt. But did you see someone on your way in?”

“No, I met no one at all. Why?”

“I don't know. I had such a weird dream. Maybe it's the heat.”

Gerald held her. “Here, let me help you up. You must drink lots of water whilst you're here. Come on, we'll go and find the others and see if there's some sort of refreshment going.”

She helped Aline to her feet, took her notebook from her, and again put her arm round her.

Aline allowed herself to be led. At that moment she welcomed support from Gerald. She must have been out in the sun far too long. She must protect her head from the heat with the shawl as the seller had said.

*

“Something you'll like,” Gerald said, as they got back onto the coach. “We're going to stop off at a perfumery before we get back to our hotel. You said you liked perfumes?”

Aline groaned inwardly. She'd had enough excitement for the day and rather suspected that the perfumery might be the very one she really didn't want to visit.

The shop wasn't far from the Pyramids and the tourists were greeted with great enthusiasm by a tall Egyptian in a long robe; he spoke perfect English, with an accent that could have come straight from Mayfair.

Aline quickly looked at all the girls who came out to usher them into a small room and was relieved Nephthys wasn't to be seen. Perhaps it wasn't her shop. She said she had a shop in Cairo but it didn't have to be that one. Aline relaxed a little.

They sat round in a circle and were offered drinks. Gerald sat to one side of her and Cheng the other.

“Be careful what you have to drink,” Gerald advised. “Some of the juices are mixed with fruit and vegetables and spices and are quite strong. You might get a tummy ache.”

“I think you will like Farawla,” one of the girls said to the group. “It is a strawberry-based drink and very nice.” She gave them all a beaming smile. They all ordered it.

And yet the drink the girl brought for Aline looked slightly different to the others. The colour was more intense. The glass was cloudier. She had been offered it with a slight bow and the sweetest of smiles from the girl who, like the others, was dressed from head to foot in darkest black.

Aline felt uneasy. The feeling didn't dispel when she tasted the juice. It smelt very sweet but it tasted bitter. She didn't say anything about it because the demonstrator was already into showing the various oils and saying which would make the most perfect of aromas for whatever occasion.

Every few seconds her wrists and fingers were dabbed with many different oils by the girl who'd given her the drink. Other girls were using the oils on the rest of her group. The room was beginning to smell very sensual. The Egyptian charming smile and persuasive manner, combined with the powerful blends of the exotic perfumes, began to bring in many orders.

Aline had put the nearly full glass under her seat, quite determined not to drink any more of it, even if it offended the host. The girl spotted it.

“You don't like your juice?”

“It's very good,” Aline replied, “but I've had a lot to drink today and can't manage it. I'm sorry.”

The girl stood in front of her. The sweet smile had gone.

“The others have drunk theirs. It is good not to waste anything in this country.” She picked up the glass and thrust it into Aline's hand. “This is very good for you.”

“She doesn't have to drink it if she doesn't want it,” Gerald intervened. “Here, Aline, give it to me.” She passed it back to the girl. “I'm sure you'll find a home for it. Give it to one of your girls if you don't want it wasted, or drink it yourself, if it's so good for you.”

Aline felt pleased Gerald had lent her support and smiled at her gratefully. She got up, making some excuse, and went to look in an adjoining room where more perfumes and bottles were for sale.

“Now what was wrong with my Farawla?”

Aline turned round slowly. Somehow she suspected Nephthys was involved in it in some way. She was playing with her. Why? She stared at Nephthys.

She looked very different. Her hair was completely hidden by a silky white turban which was wound round her head and tightly knotted on the top. Long tassels with small gold balls hung down over her forehead, almost reaching her eyes. Huge gold earrings hung from her ears. Her long white robe, which completely concealed her body from neck to toe, was of the purest white, embroidered with fine gold symbols at the breast and down the sides. Her face was exquisitely and heavily made up. She stood with a slightly mocking smile, holding the glass Aline had refused.

“Really, Aline. What did you think was in it? Something to poison you? Something to make you rampantly sexy? Something to make you forget or… something to make you remember? Or maybe it was a completely innocuous glass of fruit juice with no powers to do anything to you. What a pity you didn't drink it. Now you'll never know. It's such a shame.” She put the glass down.

She stared into Aline's eyes. The gold balls floated around her face, making Aline feel as if she was being hypnotised. She drew back but Nephthys grabbed either side of her shawl and held her fast. Aline tried to push her away, noting how long and sharp her bright red nails were.