Children of the Storm - Elizabeth Peters [86]
“Nineteenth Dynasty,” he declared. “Dedicated to Hathor.”
“She does keep turning up, doesn’t she?” David murmured.
For once they had divided into groups by age, the parents sitting off to one side and the younger foursome together. Ramses glanced at his friend and clamped his jaws together to prevent a rude response. He was becoming sensitive to references to that particular goddess.
David went on, with seeming irrelevance, “Tomorrow is full moon, isn’t it?”
“What about it?” Lia asked.
David finished his sandwich and leaned back, supporting himself on his elbows. “It’s been a long time since we had a moonlight ramble. Luxor and Karnak temples are magical under a full moon.”
Lia shook her head. “The tourists all turn out for that.”
“Then how about Medinet Habu or Deir el Bahri? Or the temple here? I’ve been thinking of painting it.”
“Fine with me,” Ramses said lazily.
Nefret uncrossed her legs and rose to her knees, fixing David with a hard stare. “You told him, didn’t you?”
“Told me what?” Ramses asked.
“Told him what?” David demanded. Then his face cleared, and he laughed. “That’s right, he wasn’t here the other morning when the boy was babbling about people seeing Hathor manifest herself in her temple on the night of the full moon. Come now, Nefret, you don’t believe those wild tales, do you?”
“Nobody told me,” Ramses said. He tried to keep his voice neutral, but apparently he didn’t succeed; Nefret’s cheeks darkened and she refused to meet his eyes. The other two remained silent, aware of a certain tension in the air. Finally Nefret muttered,
“I’m sorry. It’s silly and superstitious of me to see a connection between the wild tales and what happened to you in Cairo. But there haven’t been such stories about Deir el Medina before, have there?”
“Not so far as I know,” Ramses said. “We’ve all heard of the giant cat who haunts Karnak and turns into a scantily clad female who seduces men and then smothers them. Legends like that are common, so perhaps it isn’t surprising that Deir el Medina should acquire one. I don’t understand, Nefret. Why didn’t you want David to tell me? Did you suppose I’d come here, secretly and alone, to investigate, and . . . And what? Allow myself to be lured away by a feeble-witted female in fancy dress?”
She had tried several times to interrupt him. The last sentence brought her to her feet, flushed and sputtering. “I . . . You . . . That’s outrageous, Ramses. I didn’t suppose any of that! Why are you so quick to take offense? I was only trying—”
“Calm down, both of you,” David said placidly. “You’ll have Aunt Amelia over here in a minute, wanting to know what you’re yelling about. Maybe you ought to listen to each other instead of firing off accusations. Unless, that is, you are enjoying the argument for its own sake.”
Nefret sat down. “I’m not enjoying it.”
“Well, there’s a switch,” Ramses snapped. “You’re always accusing me of avoiding confrontations. I was only trying—”
A burst of laughter from David stopped him. “Shake hands,” David suggested, “and say you’re sorry.”
Somewhat sheepishly Ramses took the hand Nefret had offered. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Is that how you deal with your obstreperous children, David?”
“It doesn’t work with Evvie,” David said.
“She’s never sorry,” Lia added.
“I am,” Nefret murmured, bowing her head. “The truth is I can’t explain, even to myself, why I’ve got so worked up about this.”
“I think I understand,” Lia said. Nefret looked up. Her eyes met those of Lia, who gave her a nod and a confidential smile before continuing. “The inexplicable is always unsettling. And if either of you gentlemen breathe the words ‘feminine intuition’ . . .”
“Heaven forbid,” David said in a shocked voice, and with an irrepressible twinkle in his eyes. “I have a few forebodings of my own. But the situation is inexplicable only because we haven’t figured out the motive yet. We will. And I believe it would be a serious error to dismiss the purported epiphanies of Hathor as unrelated. Nefret is right; there’ve been no such stories