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Authors: Elizabeth Peters

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‘The cellars,’ Ramses murmured, visibly chagrined. He had underestimated her, and so had the rest of us. I had a sudden image of Esin face-to-face with Emmeline and Christabel
Pankhurst.

Emerson had been listening in silence, his mouth ajar. Now he cleared his throat and said, ‘What about your father, child? He will be worried about you. Did you leave a message for
him?’

‘No, why should I? He doesn’t care about me, I am only a piece of property to him. I have lived in England; I won’t go back to the veil and the harem and the selling of women.
When Ismail Pasha told me my father had captured an English spy, I wanted to see him, so I hid myself in the mandarah, hoping they would bring you there – and they did! My father told them to
take off your filthy clothing so they would not stain his cushions, and when they did, I saw that you were very beautiful.’

Nefret choked. ‘I’m glad you find this amusing,’ Ramses said sourly.

‘It is not amusing,’ the girl insisted. ‘It is sad and very romantic. I did not know who you were, and when my father said he would give me to you I was happy, because you were
so beautiful and so brave, and then – then you said you were already married and my heart cracked in two, because I knew an English gentleman would never be unfaithful – ’

‘That’s quite enough of that,’ said Ramses to his wife, who had covered her mouth with her hands in an attempt to muffle her laughter.

‘Quite,’ I said, getting a grip on myself. The conversation had been extraordinary. ‘Nefret, take the – er – young lady off to the bath chamber and get her some
clean clothing. That rug is absolutely filthy.’

‘Don’t say anything important until I get back,’ Nefret ordered.

The girl got to her feet. ‘Are you still angry with me?’ she asked Ramses.

‘Good Lord, no. I – er – I owe you a great deal. More than I realized.’ He smiled at her, and a blissful answering smile spread across her face.

‘You owe me nothing. I will treasure the memory of that kiss forever, even if you can never be mine.’

After Nefret had removed the girl, the rest of us sat in silence, reflecting upon what we had learned. We were, in my opinion, becoming somewhat overburdened with strong-minded young women. I
fixed a critical gaze upon my son.

‘The kiss was, perhaps, a mistake.’

‘It seemed the least I could do, Mother.’

I think he was teasing me. One cannot always be sure with Ramses. I trusted he would find Nefret’s comments equally entertaining.

‘A kindly error, however,’ I conceded. ‘We will not speak of it again.’

‘Extraordinary young woman,’ said Emerson. He added gloomily, ‘I suppose we’re stuck with her.’

‘For the time being,’ I agreed. ‘And we certainly cannot complain, considering what we owe her. We were dead wrong about her. She managed the whole business by
herself.’

‘With a few hints from Ismail Pasha,’ said Ramses. ‘Don’t give me that steely stare, Mother. I am not denying her intelligence and her courage, but I would be willing to
wager that she went rushing off to her sympathetic English friend as soon as they removed my – er – beautiful self to the cells, and opened her heart to him. That gave him his opening,
and no one is better at putting ideas into people’s heads. I can almost hear him, can’t you? “The cruelties of war . . . too young to die . . . your father forced against his will
to destroy a gallant enemy . . . in his heart he’d be grateful to be relieved of that grim duty . . .” ’

‘She does seem to be a romantic young person,’ I said. ‘And clever enough to work out the details, with, perhaps, a suggestion or two from Sethos. He had probably explored the
house, including the cells – “just in case”. Like myself, he believes in anticipating potential dangers. Nor would he have had any difficulty in persuading her to run away with
him, to join the individual who had made such an impression on her susceptible heart.’

‘Now, Mother,’ Ramses protested. ‘She was bored and restless, and annoyed with her father for dragging her off to Gaza, and fascinated by Sethos. It wouldn’t have
required more than that.’

‘Hmm,’ I said. ‘Admittedly
her
motives are less important than his. Why did he do it? Surely not to rescue a damsel in distress.’

‘Not Sethos,’ said Emerson – who might have been fool enough to do just that. ‘He means to use her against her father, somehow or other. It would be confounded
embarrassing for Sahin Bey – oh, very well, Pasha – to admit he had lost his daughter to the enemy. What would he be willing to give to get her back?’

‘We cannot be party to any such scheme,’ I declared. ‘I will not force a young woman against her will, no matter what is offered in exchange.’

‘Not even Sethos?’ Ramses’s eyes were on the unlit cigarette he was rolling between his long fingers.

‘Oh, good Gad,’ I said.

Chapter Eleven

The night passed without incident, but in some discomfort. I felt it incumbent upon myself to keep the girl with me. She had been removed suddenly from her home and was in the
company of strangers; a motherly presence would comfort her – and prevent her from leaving us, in case she changed her mind. Emerson attempted to convince
me
to change
my
mind,
declaring that my habit of foreseeing difficulties that never arose had become, as he put it, deuced inconvenient. Unable to prevail, he went off to one of the small sleeping chambers in a
considerable state of aggravation.

Esin proved to be a noisy companion, breathing heavily through her nose and changing position every few minutes. However, there is a silver lining to every cloud; wakefulness gave me ample time
for reflection. The situation had become even more confusing than before, and the possible permutations were manifold. If we did not make preparations to depart, Cartright might decide to place us
under house arrest or remove us by force – for our own good, as he would explain. I did not trust him one inch, or believe in his protestations. Heaven only knew what Sethos would do next. I
had never believed he was a traitor; I did not believe it now, though his real purpose was still a mystery. He had not exaggerated, however, when he spoke of a noose round his neck; a turncoat is
automatically under suspicion, and Sahin, an old hand at the Game, was probably watching his every move. Ramses’s suggestion that Sethos had taken the girl as a possible bargaining counter,
in case he was arrested, made a horribly convincing theory; in fact, it was the only reason I could think of why he might have taken that risk. Sahin Pasha was another unpredictable factor. What
would he do when he discovered his daughter was missing?

By morning I had formulated my plans. I explained them to the others over breakfast.

‘I am having serious doubts as to the advisability of our remaining here. Let us at least behave as if our departure were imminent.’

‘Start packing, you mean?’ Nefret asked, her brow furrowed.

‘It would certainly do no harm if each of us made up a little bundle of basic necessities. What I meant, however, was that we should shop for items we would need on a journey and inspect
the motorcar to make certain it is in good order.’

‘It is in good order,’ Selim declared, in some indignation.

‘I am sure it is, Selim. But you could pretend it was not, couldn’t you – that some repairs were needed? That would give us a reasonable excuse to stay on for another
day.’

‘Yes, I could do that,’ Selim agreed. His eyes shone in anticipation of an interesting vehicular challenge. ‘These people know nothing of motorcars. I could take off the
– ’

‘No, no, you mustn’t take anything off! I want to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice, if we have to.’

‘Not having one of your famous premonitions, are you?’ Emerson inquired, his eyes narrowing. ‘Because if you are – ’

‘You don’t want me to tell you about it. I am only trying to anticipate every contingency, Emerson. That is not superstition, it is simply good sense. We must stay here until
tomorrow at the earliest, so that we can confer with Sethos, and we don’t want some helpful military person dropping by to inquire into our plans.’

‘How far do you want to go?’ Selim asked. ‘If it is more than five miles, we will need more petrol.’

‘What else will we need?’

I made a little list. Our guest, who had not spoken except to bid us good morning, said, ‘Am I to go with you?’

I leaned back and gave her my full attention. A bath and a change of clothing, into one of ‘the favourite’s’ silk robes, had improved her appearance considerably, and I had
braided her hair myself. One could not have called her pretty, her features were too strong, but she was a handsome girl, in her way. Selim kept sneaking sidelong glances at her.

‘We aren’t going anywhere just yet,’ I replied. ‘As for taking you back to Cairo with us, that depends on a number of factors that are as yet unknown.’

‘We can’t do anything else,’ said Emerson. ‘She has placed herself in our hands and we owe her our protection.’

Esin’s admiring gaze indicated her appreciation of this noble sentiment, which was, I should add, entirely sincere. It wasn’t that simple, of course; men fix on words like honour and
decency and noblesse oblige, and lose sight of the important issues. My chivalrous husband would never consent to an exchange, even if the life at stake was that of his own brother. I had not
decided what I would do if the situation arose. We would not be selling the girl into slavery, only returning her to a father who had always treated her indulgently . . .

Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof, I reminded myself. We must hope that the hard decision did not arise. The likelihood of Sahin’s agreeing to an exchange of any kind was slight,
I thought. Pride and duty – two more of those masculine catchwords – would forbid it, and he would not fear for her safety if we were looking after her.

‘Speaking of that – I refer to my husband’s statement that you placed yourself in our hands,’ I said. ‘Did you? Were you aware that you were being brought to
us?’

‘Oh, yes.’ She transferred her admiring gaze to Ramses. ‘Did you not say you were in my debt – that you would protect me from my father’s wrath?’

‘Did you?’ Nefret inquired sweetly.

Ramses’s beleaguered gaze moved from the girl to Nefret and back. ‘I – uh – to be honest, I don’t remember what the hell I said!’

‘If you did not say it, you meant it,’ Esin declared. ‘No Englishman would leave a woman to suffer for a service she had done him.’

‘But you said your father didn’t suspect you,’ Ramses protested.

‘He was beginning to. That is what Ismail Pasha told me.’

‘Ah,’ I said. ‘So he offered to help you.’

Her forehead wrinkled. ‘I think that is how it was. But I did most of it myself. I had to find my own way out of the house. That was not so hard, I know all the secret passages and
cellars, but then I had to go to the place he told me about, the tomb of a saint that is outside the wall of the Serai. It is not far, but I was very frightened, and I had to wait a long time
before the rug merchant came with his cart, and then he was stopped at the guard post and I could hear them talking and laughing and I was afraid they would search the cart. But they did not. It
was a long bumpy ride and I could not breathe very well, and – ’

‘You were very courageous,’ I interrupted, for I had heard enough. The essentials of the story had been told. It sounded as if Ramses had been correct about Sethos’s devious
methods.

The various schemes I had proposed kept us busy all day. Selim spent a good deal of the time underneath the motorcar, surrounded by a fascinated audience, including the babies and the goats.
From time to time he emerged, sweating and oil-stained, to report progress and bask in the admiration of the beholders. We could have got the petrol from an independent businessman – there
was a thriving black market on all military items – but Emerson decided that we might just as well ask the authorities for it. It required only four hours for his request to be approved.
Clearly, they were anxious to be rid of us.

By evening our plans had been completed. I had whiled away the hours exploring the rest of the house. It was like many others I had visited, with nothing of particular interest except for even
more secret passages and hidden chambers than usual. Mahmud or one of his ancestors appeared to have had little faith in his government, his associates, and his wives.

According to Ramses, we should allow at least an hour to reach the spot Sethos had indicated. When we gathered in the ka’ah for a light evening repast, we discussed who should go.
Naturally I intended to make one of the party, and Emerson was set on confronting his infuriating brother. Someone had to stay with the girl, we all agreed to that – Nefret with a caustic
‘I’m always the one’ – but Selim and Ramses could not decide which of them should go and which should remain with the two young women. It lacked half an hour till the time
we were to leave, and we were still discussing the matter, when a horrible, ululating howl broke the silence of the quiet night. The mashrabiya screen was ajar and I heard the words quite
clearly:

BOOK: The Golden One
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