Children of the Storm - Elizabeth Peters [178]
“Then she would have to put in last night . . . where?”
“Somewhere around Qena,” Ramses replied. “Three hours away, at our present speed. We daren’t go faster, none of us knows the river well enough. Eat something, Mother.”
I took a piece of bread, since Nasir would not leave me alone, and went back to my post on the other side of the boat.
Sunlight sparkled on the water. Our speed had increased, once we were in mid-channel. I could not take my eyes from the passing scene, and I wished I had another pair of them in the back of my head. We had men stationed at the prow and the stern and along both sides, watching as keenly as I, but that wasn’t enough for me; I felt I could trust no eyes but my own. The water, which looks so clear and sparkling at a distance, was a muddy brown and as littered as a Cairo alley. The river constantly shifts, eating away at one bank or the other; we passed a once-flourishing grove of palm trees, some precariously balanced on less than half their root base, others already fallen, their leaves trailing in the water. Withered palm fronds and dead branches floated past, with an occasional dead animal for interest. I am sure I need not tell the Reader that my eyes followed each such object with morbid dread, and each time I held my breath until I had identified it.
The river was not the populous thoroughfare it had been during my early years in Egypt, when it had been the only means of travel and transport. The railroad was cheaper and quicker, except for short distances. In Middle Egypt one would still see barges carrying sugar cane to the factories, but below Assiut only small local boats and an occasional tourist steamer used the river. We came up on one of the latter, flying the British flag, and I recognized one of Cook’s vessels, the Amasis. We passed her so close I could see the pale, staring faces of the passengers standing at the rail—too close for the captain’s taste, apparently, since he waved his fists and yelled at us.
Ramses came to me. He had lost his hat and his hair blew wildly about his face. “I let David take over,” he said. “I hope he can do better than I.”
“We are going too fast. That was a good-sized island we passed. Shouldn’t we have investigated the other side of it?”
Ramses turned to face me, one arm resting on the rail—but his eyes, like mine, continued to scan the banks. “We cannot circle every island and sandbank, there are too many of them. With an inexperienced hand at the tiller there’s a good chance we would run aground. That would slow us even more.”
“What is the point of this pursuit then?” I demanded.
“Could you have remained in Luxor, knowing that every minute, every hour was taking them farther away?”
A flush of shame warmed my face. He and I were the ones most deeply affected, and he was taking it better than I—externally. I was not deceived by his impassive countenance and cool voice.
“No more than you,” I said.
His expression did not change. “There is relatively little traffic on this part of the river, and it’s possible, even probable, that a conspicuous vessel like the Isis would have been observed. What I’m praying for is that she ran aground. Though it’s more likely that we will. Mother, you will wear yourself out standing here. Come to the saloon and have something to eat. Nasir keeps cooking; I can’t stop him.”
“I will wait until we reach Qena. How is Selim?”
“I can’t stop him either,” Ramses admitted. “He won’t leave his engines. He seems to be all right.”
Another hour passed. I counted off every minute, willing the hands of my watch to move faster. There might be news at Qena. A rotten log floating by had the exact shape and size of a human body.
Cyrus was the next to approach me. “Come and have luncheon, Amelia,” he said, covering my clenched hand with his. “We’ve got a dozen people keeping watch, you can’t do any good here.”
“Soon. We are nearing Qena, I believe. That is Ballas, on the West Bank.”
Qena is a prosperous town, set in a well-cultivated countryside and noted for the quality of clay in the area. All along the bank lay