Children of the Storm - Elizabeth Peters [191]
Now he said, with almost his old irony, “I would rather leave it there. I have been the subject of Nefret’s medical attentions before.”
Naturally I overruled him. He and Maryam followed Nefret. Her arm supported him and his was round her shoulders.
“As for you, Emerson,” I began.
Nefret had cleaned him up as best she could, but he was still a horrible sight. The only one whose clothing would fit him was Daoud, who had no extra, so he was still attired—more or less—in the garments he had worn when he rushed in pursuit of Nefret. There were bits of bandage all over him, and quite a number of bruises. His breezy dismissal of François’s attempt to murder him deprecated the magnitude of that struggle, against an opponent without scruple or mercy.
“And as for you, Peabody,” said Emerson, folding his arms, “I have not finished telling you what I think of your reckless, inconsiderate behavior. Come along with me.”
“Yes, my dear,” I said.
* * *
WE WERE, IN MY OPINION, entitled to a celebration. Fatima, whose sentiments were usually expressed with food, piled the tea tables high. Daoud was there, and Kadija, and even Selim, who had refused to go back to bed. The family, including the Vandergelts, Sennia and Gargery, both cats (who were completely indifferent to our misadventures, but who knew Fatima had prepared fish sandwiches), and the dear children—all of them. They were making enough racket to wake the dead, but I felt that they were entitled to be with their parents. The only ones not present were Sethos and Maryam.
Some of us had preferred whiskey and soda to tea.
“Let us drink to another resounding success,” I remarked, raising my glass.
“I’m not sure how many more of these resounding successes we can afford, Peabody,” said Emerson, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “I don’t mind admitting that I feel a trifle fatigued, and Sethos and Bertie were—”
“Deuced lucky,” said Bertie, with a broad smile. The brave lad was so pleased with himself that he had actually ventured to interrupt Emerson. “My injury was only a scratch, nothing to speak of, and Nefret said Sethos would be back to normal in a few days. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
“It did have its moments, didn’t it?” I said, returning his smile. “I have always wanted to hear someone say ‘She has lit the fuse.’ Or, as the case may be, ‘He has lit the fuse.’ “
“You couldn’t resist the eye patch, either, I suppose,” said Emerson, grinning.
“Another of my great ambitions in life is to have boarded a pirate vessel,” I confessed.
“Too bad about the cutlass in your teeth, Mother,” said my son.
“Ah well, one cannot have everything. Davy, have you quite finished kissing everyone’s wounds? Thank you, dear boy. Now go and draw pictures with Evvie and Charla. They are about to have words over that purple crayon, I believe.”
“Now, for pity’s sake, Amelia, tell us,” Katherine begged. “Cyrus and Bertie refused to talk about it, they said they would leave it to you.”
“We are only waiting for Sethos and Maryam,” I said.
When Sethos joined us, he was alone. “I persuaded her to rest,” he said. He looked us over and smiled slightly. “She hasn’t yet acquired the family resilience.”
“Perhaps that is just as well,” I said. “Sit down and put that leg up. Emerson, will you—oh, thank you, Walter.”
He had already pressed a glass into his half-brother’s hand.
“We are waiting, Amelia,” Evelyn said.
“Where to begin?” I took another sip. “It is a complicated story.”
“Like most of them,” Cyrus said.
“I suppose that is true. Perhaps I should begin by going over my list of Extraordinary Incidents—which I happen to have with me—and explain how each event fits inexorably into the pattern our adversaries attempted to establish in order to deceive us as to their true motive.”
“I think we’ve all worked that out, Mother,” Nefret said. Confirmation