Guardian of the Horizon - Elizabeth Peters [14]
Now I wished we had destroyed it. It was not often I recalled the details of that terrible journey—the heat and blowing sand, the constant thirst, and the treachery of the men we had hired. I had no memory of the final days, since I had fallen ill and was unconscious when Tarek’s rescue party found us and took us the rest of the way. Our departure from the Holy Mountain had been made in haste and in darkness, but I retained one very vivid memory. Looking back as we rode away, in constant fear of pursuit, I saw the encircling mountain range rising up against the stars like the ramparts of a medieval castle—a castle ablaze, for fire rose from the central portion like a volcano in eruption. We had left Tarek still fighting for his throne, though he had assured us that most of the opposition had fallen. We had an unspoken agreement not to talk of the place, but I had often wondered how matters came out. Well, at least we knew that Tarek had conquered.
Emerson was the first to speak. “It will take weeks to collect supplies and mount an expedition. In any case we could not possibly start out before September, the desert heat is simply too great. If we decide to go.” He looked expectantly at me.
“So you are having second thoughts, are you?” I inquired.
“I am not a complete fool,” Emerson retorted. “Of course it would solve the problem of where we mean to work this season.”
“Unquestionably,” I agreed with a certain degree of irony. “The hazards of the journey and the uncertainty as to what we will find when we get to the Holy Mountain, supposing we do get there, add up to a strong possibility that we will never have to face that particular problem again.”
“It wouldn’t be as risky this time,” Emerson mused. “We were limited as to camels and men, and weren’t sure that the map was accurate.”
“That is true,” I admitted.
“I don’t suppose I could persuade you to—”
“Remain behind? Don’t be absurd, Emerson.”
“I knew you would say that. Well, Ramses? You have been very silent. I will quite understand if you prefer to spend the winter in Germany, as you—”
Ramses interrupted him with an Arabic word that made Emerson’s eyes widen. “Good Gad, my boy, where did you learn that one?” he inquired.
“You know I intend to go with you,” Ramses said furiously.
“Yes,” said Emerson, trying not to smirk.
“You know why I’ve hesitated.”
“Yes.” Emerson’s smile faded. “I too would prevent her if I could. But it is impossible. Tarek was a friend, close as a brother. Moreover, she is a trained physician, and this mysterious illness may be one she can diagnose and cure. Short of locking her up, which is illegal as well as impractical, I can think of no way of excluding her. Can you?”
Ramses turned on his heel and walked to the window. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, looking out into the twilight. Finally his rigid shoulders relaxed, and when he turned he had his face under control.
“No, I can’t. She went off with Merasen so she could talk to him about Tarek, you know. He’ll fire her up even more, especially if he tells her about the child.”
“He is a remarkable young man,” Emerson said. “And it was an epic journey. He could not have survived without those same qualities of wit and courage that marked—”
Ramses cut in. “Did you believe his story?”
“Why should we not?” I exclaimed in surprise.
“We have only his word.” Ramses began pacing up and down. “There are a number of things about his narrative that bother me. He’d been in Kent for several days before we found him—camping out, near Tabirka’s pyramid, waiting for one of us to come to him.”
“Perhaps he was shy about approaching the house,” I suggested. “But I admit attacking you was a rather odd way of introducing himself.”
“Oh, I can understand that,” Ramses