Guardian of the Horizon - Elizabeth Peters [139]
Selim wanted to know precisely what Ramses had said, so I obliged. He was a clever fellow, and I thought he might catch something I had missed. However, it was Daoud who came up with an idea that had not occurred to me.
“We know where he is. Why do we not take the clothing and food to him today?”
“Why, because…Because…”
“We don’t want to lead anyone to his hiding place,” Emerson said, frowning.
“The Sitt Hakim can think of a way,” Daoud said comfortably.
“It would certainly save Ramses a great deal of time and effort and risk,” I mused. “He could take her straight to the northern pass instead of coming all the way back here first.”
Emerson went to the doorway and raised the curtain. “Here they come. Good Gad, it seems to be a delegation.”
I handed Selim my cup and fell back onto the bed, while Emerson greeted the delegation. When he came back he was trying not to grin.
“They have just learned of Daria’s disappearance,” he announced. “Poor old Amenislo has been sent round to ask what we know about it, and the High Priest of Isis is here, in quite a state of agitation. Come along, Selim and Daoud, this should be amusing.”
He stepped back and politely held the curtain aside to admit not one but two veiled forms.
It would have given a superstitious person quite a start to come upon them unawares. The wrappings covered their faces and reached to the floor, so that they seemed to glide rather than walk. As I believe I have mentioned, the priestesses of Isis were the medical practitioners of this society. They were trained in the methods their remote ancestors had employed, the knowledge having been passed down from generation to generation. Now as we all know, no scientific process can be truly scientific if it is weighted down by tradition and corrupted by superstition. The greatest achievement of ancient Egyptian physicians was the discovery that the pulse is “the voice of the heart” and that it may be a general indicator of health—no small achievement for an ancient culture, but somewhat limited in its applicability. I felt certain I would have no difficulty deceiving these girls; however, when one of them drew a small corked vial from under her garments and poured the contents into a cup, I realized I had better change my tactics. The liquid was dark and thick and smelled very peculiar.
I didn’t bother asking what it was. Instead I shook my head and pushed the cup away. “I am well now,” I said. “My medicines are good.”
My attempts to engage them in conversation were not entirely successful at first, but I did manage to persuade them to unveil. One of the young women was quite beautiful, with well-cut, aristocratic features, but her narrowed black eyes studied me suspiciously. The other girl was younger, with rounded cheeks and a pretty smile. She responded innocently to my answering smiles and friendly questions. We were getting on quite nicely when Emerson burst into the room.
“Matters have become a trifle tense,” he announced. “The king has sent a whole bloody troop to fetch us and they won’t take no for an answer. Daoud is itching to fight them off, but—”
“No, no, that would be premature.” I swung my feet onto the floor and stood up. “I am coming with you.”
“I had intended to tell him you were ill. It may come in useful if we need to postpone the ceremony.”
“I can always have a relapse.” I nodded graciously at the handmaidens, who had retreated behind the bed and were desperately trying to adjust their veils. “Here is a little present, maidens, to show my gratitude.”
The present was jewelry, which always goes over well with young ladies. Since I had not brought any jewels of importance, I had been forced to rob Daria. The earrings were large and gaudy. They were not a pair; one had long dangles of gold beads, the other sparkling red stones—probably crystal rather than rubies, but since the people of the Holy Mountain knew nothing of the art of cutting stones, they made a good impression. I handed one to each. The pretty child snatched hers with a murmur of thanks. The other