Guardian of the Horizon - Elizabeth Peters [25]
Nefret chuckled. “Just look at Selim’s beard.”
“Hmph,” said Emerson, staring enviously at the appendage.
Daoud was at the foot of the gangplank when we descended. He never pushed or shoved, for he was the gentlest of men (unless provoked); he simply moved forward with ponderous inevitability, clearing a path. Not the slightest shade of reproach marred the sunshine of his smile, but after he had gone off with Ramses to deal with the luggage and the customs people, Selim bent a freezing frown upon me.
“Why did you creep into the country like thieves, without telegraphing us?”
“We wanted to surprise you,” Nefret said, taking hold of his arm. “Selim—the beard! Magnificent!”
Selim preened himself, but his grievance was too strong to be so easily overcome. “We heard it from Mohassib, who had been told by Abdul at the Winter Palace, who overheard a guest reading it from the newspaper. For us to get news of you from such people shames us. And why is David not with you? And why have you not told me where we will be working? And what—”
“Don’t lecture me, curse it,” Emerson shouted. “At least not in public. Good Gad! You sound just like your father.”
There was a slight tremor in his manly voice when he pronounced the last words. He cleared his throat. “Hmph. Well, Peabody, what are we going to do with this insubordinate young rascal?”
I had been against taking Selim and our other devoted men into the unknown. None of them, including Abdullah, had gone with us on our first trip to the Sudan; since we had been working in what was technically a war zone, the military authorities refused to give them permission. However, the situation had changed. Emerson and Ramses had pointed out, with depressing logic, that we would have to take some of them at least as far as Meroe in order to support the story about a survey. A point they had not made, which was now apparent, was that Selim would wax even more insubordinate if we attempted to go off without him.
“Tell him our plans,” I said with a sigh and a smile. “I hope you don’t mind waiting, Selim, until we are on the train. I want to get out of this pestilential place and into the comforts of Shepheard’s as soon as is possible.”
Selim folded his arms. “The Amelia is ready for you, Sitt. Fatima is there now.”
“How did you manage that?” I asked with sincere admiration. We had left the dahabeeyah in dry dock; Selim must have bullied, bribed, and threatened at least a dozen people to get it ready so quickly. All signs of pique forgotten, Emerson grinned and slapped the young man approvingly on the shoulder. He hates hotels.
“I am your reis,” said Selim. “The best reis in Egypt, now that my father is no more. Come. I have the tickets for the train.”
The train takes six and a half hours from Port Said to Cairo. Emerson and Ramses promptly removed coats, hats, waistcoats, and cravats, and after an apologetic glance at me Nefret unfastened the top buttons of her frock and pushed her sleeves up. As sand sifted into my collar and mixed with perspiration to form a gritty paste, I reflected that this was only a faint foretaste of the discomfort we could expect as we went farther south. We had never been in Egypt so early in the season. I now remembered why.
At first Selim was not enthusiastic about working in the Sudan. However, when I said he and the others need not accompany us, since we could easily find local workers, his beard positively bristled. “Did you hear that, Daoud?” he demanded. “They say we must stay behind.”
“No, no,” said Daoud placidly. “Where the Father of Curses goes, we go. Where is it he is going?”
Emerson went on at length about the pyramids at Meroe and their ruinous condition and the need to record what was left of them before they fell apart. It was familiar stuff to Selim, and Daoud didn’t really care. When Emerson ran down—after quite a long lecture—Selim nodded and stroked his beard.
“So. It should be an interesting adventure. Local workers we can hire, as you say, but you will need trained men to supervise them. How many?”
There was not room for