Guardian of the Horizon - Elizabeth Peters [65]
“It was a wonderful shot,” Selim said. “Now what do we do?”
“Wait,” said Emerson, still upright. “Here, Peabody, what’s the matter? You aren’t going to faint, I trust.”
“No, I am going to kill you. How dare you, Emerson? How dare you frighten me so?”
“I am beginning to suspect,” said Ramses, wiping his wet forehead with his sleeve, “that my flamboyant gesture was unnecessary.”
“No, no, it was a nice added touch,” Emerson said soothingly. “Well, let’s make camp, shall we? Stand down, all of you,” he added in resounding Arabic. “The Father of Curses will protect you.”
A short time later Selim, who had appointed himself sentry, let out a hail. “A rider approaches, Emerson.”
“Ah,” said Emerson. “One man, Selim?”
“Yes, Father of Curses. He stops. He holds up a white flag. Does that mean I cannot shoot him?”
“I’m afraid so,” said Emerson. “Keep him covered, though.”
“Aren’t you going to invite him to join us for breakfast?” I inquired with, I believe, a pardonable touch of sarcasm.
“Presently. I want my tea first. Is it ready?”
I handed round the cups and went to join Selim. The envoy was the leader himself. He had a rifle slung over his shoulder and a sword stuck through his sash, but his hands were empty except for the makeshift flag of truce. Emerson continued to sip his tea. He was delaying for two reasons: first, to annoy me, and second, to assert his superiority over the envoy. Finally he stood up and stretched.
“I am going with you,” I said.
“No, you are bloody well not. Good Gad, Peabody, how would it look to have a woman trailing at my heels?”
“Ramses, then.”
Ramses, who had not risen, said evenly, “There is a kind of etiquette in these matters, Mother. He’ll have to go alone. Not on foot, but unarmed.”
“Quite right,” said Emerson. He mounted one of the kneeling camels and induced it to stand up.
We crowded round Selim, watching Emerson ride slowly toward the waiting man. “I do not approve of this,” I announced. “Who are these people, anyhow?”
“Tebu, I think.” Ramses did not take his eyes off his father. “Of the Guraan tribe.”
Emerson reined up beside the other man. I couldn’t hear what they said, but after a brief exchange the raider burst into a peal of laughter and the two rode back toward us, side by side.
Ramses said softly, “Mother and Nefret, go into one of the tents and stay out of sight.”
“Why?” Nefret demanded. “I have never behaved like a proper Moslem lady and I won’t do it now!”
“The majority of the Tebu are peaceable enough, but the renegades among them are the most dangerous raiders in the Western Desert. They still take slaves,” Ramses said through tight lips. “This fellow may be another of Father’s old friends, but I see no sense in waving a tempting morsel like you in front of him. Get inside.”
“But—”
“Mother, make her go, or I will.”
“You are right,” I said. “Come, Nefret. We can peek through a crack.”
We beat a hasty retreat and just made it inside the tent before Emerson and his “guest” entered the camp. At the sight of the latter, Nefret’s resentful scowl faded. Of medium height, dark-skinned as a Nubian, and lean as a feral dog, he was not an impressive figure physically, but there was a certain look about him—the look of a man who acts as he chooses with no inconvenient interference from his conscience.
He seemed to be in quite a jovial frame of mind, his bearded lips parted in a smile; but as he settled himself on the rug and accepted a glass of tea, his eyes moved around the camp, as if taking stock of our numbers and our gear. Then they fixed on Ramses, who was sitting cross-legged next to him.
“Your father tells me it was you who shot the sword out of my hand. A lucky shot.”
“I hit what I mean to hit,” Ramses said, looking down his nose at the other man. “I could have put the bullet through your head if I had wished to. You were wise to turn aside when you did.”
It wasn’t like him to boast, but, as he knew, modesty is wasted on Arabs. The man, whom Emerson had introduced as Kemal, acknowledged the retort with a nod and a grin.
“It was the sight of your