Guardian of the Horizon - Elizabeth Peters [145]
“It should be quite a show,” remarked Emerson, after Nefret had translated. “A pity we will miss it.”
“But, Professor,” Nefret began.
“All of us will miss it,” said Emerson.
The king had one more point to make. He did not mince words. “I know what Tarek plans. I have spies in his camp, as he has in mine. I will know if your son has joined him. I will not harm you unless you defy me, but he is a dead man if he does not give himself up.”
He rose, drawing his mantle around him, and beckoned to Nefret. She repeated the words in a faint, uneven voice.
“Don’t lose heart, my dear,” I said. “It isn’t easy to kill Ramses. Is there a way to your rooms through the temple?”
“I don’t want to go with him,” she whispered.
Her voice was high and soft, like that of a frightened child. His face working, Emerson put his arms around her. “Why can’t she stay with us?” he demanded furiously. “I will be damned if I will let you take her away.”
“Emerson, no,” I said. “Resistance would be futile and you are only making it harder for her. Nefret?”
Nefret drew a long, quivering breath and moved away from Emerson. “Yes, Aunt Amelia. I’m all right now.” She went on, without a change of tone, “Negative, Aunt Amelia, my recollection is faulty and every step is guarded.”
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” I replied. “Keep that in your recollection, my dear. Oh, I almost forgot. Ask him about the other white man. We suspect him of being the archaeologist, Mr. MacFerguson.”
“What?” Nefret stared in astonishment. “Mr. MacFerguson, here?”
“Ask him.”
The royal reply required no translation. “You know him. He is your friend.”
From Manuscript H
The sun was high and bright when Ramses woke. His watch had stopped. He had forgotten to wind it last night.
He got carefully to his feet, so as not to disturb the sleeping girl, and tucked the robe that had been their only covering back around her. He stayed longer than he needed to in the dead garden, looking aimlessly for a possible source of food or drink. There were birds’ nests in the withered vines. He didn’t bother looking for eggs. They weren’t that desperate yet.
When he went back she was awake. Her eyes moved slowly over him, from bare head to bare feet. She pushed the covering aside and stretched like a cat, her muscles moving smoothly under her pale skin. His response was instantaneous and uncontrollable; when she saw, she smiled and held up her arms.
“Later,” Ramses said. His throat was dry.
“With you it is always ‘later.’ ”
“Not always.”
“No.” She drew the vowel out into a long sigh and closed her eyes. “Was it pleasing to you? Do you still want me?”
He sat down beside her and took her hands. “You know the answer to that.”
She opened her eyes. They were bright with laughter. “Yes, I know.”
He raised her hands to his lips, laughing with her, wondering what right he had to feel so happy. “You must have something to drink, Daria. There is a little water left. And I want to look at your feet.”
He spared a few precious drops of water to wash the encrusted dirt and blood away. One of the cuts was deep. She must have stepped on a sharp stone. “I should have carried you,” he said remorsefully, cradling the little feet in his hands. “Or not bullied you into coming with me. I didn’t really give you a chance to refuse, did I?”
“I would rather be here than there.”
“So would I rather you were. Now, none of that! Those cuts need to be disinfected. I only hope I haven’t left them too long. Thank God for Mother and her brandy.”
And the shirt. He tore it up to make bandages. They both had a sip of water and a few dates, and then Ramses reached for his trousers. “I want to have a look outside,” he explained.
“And you feel powerless without clothes? It is quite otherwise.”
“It’s odd, but one does, you know,” Ramses said, acknowledging the tribute with a self-conscious smile. “Except in certain circumstances.