Guardian of the Horizon - Elizabeth Peters [150]
“Perhaps our ‘friend’ will be able to supply us with whiskey as well as coffee,” said Emerson. “He seems to like his little comforts.”
“It may have been Captain Moroney who brought the coffee, though I would not have supposed him to be such a sybarite. Never mind that now, Emerson, we must compose a message for Ramses. It is a pity we were unable to arrange a safer and more convenient method of communication. Bring the lamp, will you, please?”
I took out paper and pencil and wrote a lucid summary of recent events. “We need to tell him more than that, though,” I said, frowning. “Confound it, this really is inconvenient, there is so much to discuss and so much we need to know. Hand me another sheet of paper, if you please.”
“Don’t tell me you are going to make one of your infernal little lists,” Emerson said.
Daoud wiped his fingers daintily on a piece of cloth and sat down next to me. He was a great believer in my little lists.
“Not one of the usual sort,” I replied with a forgiving smile at my spouse. “A plan of our campaign, rather. Let us first set down the difficulties we face, and suggestions for dealing with them.”
“Hmph,” said Emerson. “It will be a lengthy list, my dear.”
“Not really,” I said, writing busily, “the primary difficulty is of course Nefret. I don’t like the way she is behaving. We must get her away from there, but the two most direct ways of reaching her, through the tunnels behind the temple or straight up the cliff to her window are, in my opinion, virtually impossible.”
“I would eliminate the word virtually,” Emerson muttered.
“In theory nothing is impossible,” I explained. “But in this case, I am inclined to agree and I will inform Ramses of our opinion. Whether it will stop him from doing something foolhardy I do not know, but one can only hope for the best. I doubt the handmaidens will be of use. Even if I could corrupt one, there are too many of them.”
“Why don’t you leave off telling us what we cannot do?” Emerson grumbled. “Say something positive!”
“I put forth the alternatives in the hope that one of you might point out a possibility I had overlooked,” I said patiently. “Since you cannot, I will proceed. Supposing I could persuade the king to bring her here again to interpret for him. Is there a chance we could substitute someone else for her?”
“Who, Daoud?” Emerson demanded. He was losing his temper again. Selim chuckled and Daoud looked puzzled.
“I do not think so, Sitt Hakim,” he said, scratching his beard.
“I was thinking of myself.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Peabody, control your rampageous imagination,” Emerson shouted. “Aside from the fact that they wouldn’t leave you two alone long enough to make the change of clothing, that would be trading one hostage for another. Is that the best you can do? And don’t write it down! Ramses will think you have lost your mind.”
“We can fight the guards and kill them all or tie them up and run away with Nur Misur,” Daoud suggested.
“I thought of that too,” I said. “There are four of us, all formidable fighters. But the odds would be heavily against us. In my opinion it should be our last, desperate recourse.”
Emerson rolled his eyes heavenward but refrained from comment, and I went on. “Our best opportunity will come on the night of the ceremony. Nefret will then be in the sanctuary of the temple and I expect we will be among those invited to see her bring the goddess back to her shrine. Can’t we think of some way of disrupting the performance, so that people are running around and perhaps falling down a great deal? In the confusion we could cut Nefret out of the crowd, disguise her by—er—in some way, and make our break for it.”
“I could shoot the pistol,” Daoud offered.
Emerson fingered the cleft in his chin. “It might work,” he said thoughtfully, “if we were all armed. I wonder where Merasen stowed the weapons he took from us? Curse it, I ought to have searched his house when I had the chance.”
“I didn’t think of it either,” I admitted. “Perhaps we should pay him another visit. One