Guardian of the Horizon - Elizabeth Peters [18]
I did not reprimand him for this familiarity, since a look of almost paternal pride warmed his plain features. She did look very pretty in her neat divided skirt and shirtwaist, her hair clubbed back and bound with ribbons. She loosed the arrow, which flew straight to the target, though not to its center. Merasen said something to her in a low voice; she laughed and looked up at the terrace, where Gargery was clapping his hands enthusiastically.
“Good afternoon, Aunt Amelia. Thank you, Gargery, but Merasen says I need more practice.”
“I’d like to see him do better,” Gargery declared, scowling at the critic.
Nefret offered the bow to Merasen. He folded his arms and shook his head. “It is a woman’s bow.”
“Stop for a bit, Nefret,” I said. “You look very warm, and I would like to talk to you.”
She handed the weapon to Merasen and came up the steps to the terrace, wiping her wet forehead with her sleeve. I got rid of Gargery by asking him to get Nefret something to drink, and went straight to the point, before he could come running back. She looked surprised when I mentioned David’s offer from the publisher.
“He didn’t tell me either. How nice! It would be just the thing for him. I’m afraid I hadn’t given the matter much thought, Aunt Amelia, but you are absolutely right; the fewer people who know our plans, the better. Can we keep them secret, do you think?”
“I am about to consult Emerson on that subject. Once we have worked out the details we will have a little council of war.”
I took it upon myself to beard Emerson in his lair—the library. When I told him what Ramses and I had agreed upon, he gave me an outraged stare.
“I will need David, curse it. Copying the reliefs in the temples and tombs of the Holy Mountain is of paramount importance.”
“Emerson, will you try to get it through your head that this is not an archaeological expedition, but a rescue mission? We will be lucky to get there at all, much less get away again. How can you think of risking David’s life?”
“We are risking the lives of Ramses and Nefret,” Emerson pointed out. He sounded a trifle subdued, though, and his brow was furrowed.
“Only because they were made aware of the situation by Merasen before we could prevent him. David is not aware of it. Given a free choice, he would much rather remain in England this winter with Lia. You must convince him he will not be needed.”
“How?” Emerson demanded. “He knows how useful he is to me.”
“I doubt that, since you have never paid him a compliment.” Emerson looked blank, and I went on in mounting exasperation. “As soon as we announce the date of our departure, all our friends, including Walter and Evelyn, are going to ask where we mean to work this winter and why we are leaving so much earlier than usual. What do you propose to tell them?”
“I do not propose to tell anyone anything,” said Emerson haughtily. “I never discuss my plans in advance.”
“Not even with Walter?”
“Hmph.” Emerson fingered the cleft in his chin, leaving a smear of ink on that admirably modeled member. “I suppose you have a few ideas? You always do.”
“Naturally. Everyone knows that you are in a temper with Maspero; it would be quite in character for you to declare you won’t excavate in Egypt this year. Our movements will be observed and commented upon, and we must have a sensible reason for traveling to the Sudan. For instance, a survey of the Meroitic sites, with a view to future excavation.”
“That might work,” Emerson admitted. “With the dam at Aswan about to be raised, a number of the sites will be underwater all or part of the time.” He put down his pen and smiled at me. “As always, Peabody, you are the voice of conscience and common sense. I confess that I hadn’t given that aspect of the case much thought.”
“You had better,” I retorted. The compliment and the smile had softened me, but I felt it advisable to hammer the point home while Emerson was in a chastened mood. “Covering our tracks won’t be easy, but it must be done. Otherwise we will have a pack of journalists,