Guardian of the Horizon - Elizabeth Peters [125]
It is unnecessary to describe the emotion that reduced my normally measured speech to broken exclamations. I had not realized until she ran into my arms and I was able to hold her close how worried I had been. At first she was just as incoherent, clinging tightly to me and repeating the same words of affection and relief over and over. Naturally I soon conquered my momentary weakness and encouraged her to do the same.
“We may not have much time,” I said. “Let us not waste it. They haven’t hurt you?”
“No.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and gave me a tremulous smile. She wore the High Priestess’s robes, but she had thrown the veils back from her face. “The Professor—Ramses and Selim and Daoud—are they all right?”
“Yes, yes, don’t worry about us. Do you know why they brought us here? Tarek has been overthrown by a usurper—”
“I know. They want me to bring the goddess back to her shrine.”
“To prop up the throne of the usurper,” I said, as cynically as Emerson would have done. “It seems to be somewhat shaky. Tarek is holding his own, in the northern section of the Holy Mountain, but neither he nor his successor can overcome the other. The new king is demanding that we support him, publicly and unequivocally, and that just might turn the tide in his favor.”
One of the handmaidens turned her veiled face toward the doorway through which I had come. Someone outside coughed. I said quickly, “Naturally we will do no such thing, but it would be advisable for us to flee the city and make our way to Tarek. No, don’t interrupt, just listen. The situation is not as desperate as it appears—”
“It never is, with you,” said Nefret, trying to smile.
I gave her a reassuring smile in return and went on, “We have several schemes in mind. Daria is with you, I presume? How is she holding up?”
“Not as well as she was at first,” Nefret said slowly. “They treat her like a servant, and some of the handmaidens delight in telling her dreadful stories of torture and human sacrifice. When I order them to leave her alone they obey for the moment, but I can’t be with her all the time, they are preparing me for the ceremony, and…Oh, Aunt Amelia, I am beginning to forget! There are gaps in my memory, longer and more frequent.”
My spine prickled, as I remembered the uncanny accuracy of her performance as High Priestess. I grasped her hands and held them tightly.
“You must hang on,” I said urgently. “It won’t be for long. Ramses has a plan…Oh curse it, here is that confounded priest come for me.”
He stood in the doorway, the lamp in his hand. The handmaidens closed in on Nefret. I brandished my parasol and they backed away, squeaking in agitation. Nefret laughed aloud.
“You are a breath of fresh air, Aunt Amelia—a strong northern wind, in fact. What is Ramses’s plan, and how can I help?”
“I presume the openings in the cliff above the temple roof lead to your rooms? Just nod. Yes. Can you leave a light burning in one of them tonight and hereafter? In a room that is, by preference, not occupied at night.”
“I can try.” Her eyes widened as the import of the question dawned on her. “Oh, no. He can’t possibly—”
“It may not be necessary. I have a few ideas of my own. I had better go now, my dear, but you will hear from us soon again—tomorrow, if I can manage it. Pretend to be docile and compliant and leave the rest to me.”
The priest was at my side, the handmaidens at hers. She nodded and smiled, but her hands clung to mine until I gently freed them. I followed the priest out of the chamber and I did not look back. I was afraid my resolution would fail if I did.
From Manuscript H
“Harsetef!” Ramses exclaimed. “It is you?”
Harsetef reverently tucked the meerschaum pipe into his pouch and touched his fingers