Children of the Storm - Elizabeth Peters [95]
“The second project is the excavation and copying of the Deir el Medina tombs. The latter will have to be postponed until David and Evelyn are finished here, but in my opinion Cyrus should start making the preparations.
“Project number three is the inscribed material we have found—the ostraca and papyri. They should be collated, translated, and published.”
I turned over a page, cleared my throat, and proceeded. “Project number four is, of course, the excavation of the village and its surroundings.”
Even Nefret’s touch could not control Emerson any longer. “I wondered when you would get round to that, Peabody,” he burst out. “I have been under the naive impression that it was our primary purpose.”
“There is no reason why you cannot proceed with the excavations, Emerson.”
Emerson was so outraged he choked on the words he had been about to utter and began coughing violently. Raising my voice, I went on, “I suggest the following allocation of personnel. Ramses and Walter on the textual material; Evelyn and David on the princesses’ treasure. That leaves you, Emerson, with Lia and Nefret, Selim and me—more than adequate, especially since Bertie will be working with us until the princesses’ treasure has been sent off to Cairo, and Cyrus is ready to return to the cemetery. If we are agreed, I suggest we retire to the storeroom and evaluate the situation there.”
“What about the committee reports?” Ramses asked, in a suspiciously muffled voice.
I was ready for that. “As your father so cogently indicated, until now we have had no committees. We will have those reports at our next meeting.”
I gathered my papers into a neat pile and stood up, indicating that this meeting was at an end. The others immediately followed suit—except for Emerson. As I passed him on my way to the door, he said softly but distinctly, “I will have a few words to say to you later, Amelia.”
I didn’t doubt that he would. It was an exhilarating thought.
FROM MANUSCRIPT H
* * *
Contrary to Ramses’s expectations, he didn’t have to invent excuses to keep his parents from joining them on their moonlight ride to Deir el Medina. His mother gave him a sentimental smile and murmured, “Enjoy yourselves, my dears.” His father only grunted. Emerson had been brooding over his defeat, as he would consider it, and could hardly wait to get his wife alone. After dinner he hastily swallowed his coffee, announced that it was time to retire, and invited her to join him. They went out together, Emerson’s face set in a lordly frown and his wife’s bright with gleeful anticipation.
“Why are they retiring so early?” Walter asked in mild surprise. “I plan to put in a few hours’ work.”
“We’ll say good night too,” Ramses said. “Since we probably won’t be back until late. Don’t let him strain his eyes over that papyrus, Aunt Evelyn, it’s difficult enough to read in a good light.”
“I won’t,” his aunt said, smiling.
THEY LET THE HORSES WALK, enjoying the cool night air and the quiet. The dark arch of the sky blazed with stars. “I told you they’d be glad to be rid of us,” David said.
“I know why Father was,” Ramses muttered. “Does she do that deliberately? Stir him up, I mean.”
“Partly.” Nefret chuckled. “Haven’t you ever noticed how she looks at him when he’s in a rage—eyes shining, trying not to smile? It’s a game they’ve played for years; both of them know the rules and thoroughly enjoy the moves.”
“I suppose so.” Ramses knew how the game was played and how it would end, and although he approved in theory, he was still a trifle embarrassed to think of his parents . . . “At any rate, she was her usual efficient self this afternoon. Laid it all out and got everybody to agree.”
A flood of light spilled over the cliffs and spread across the landscape.