Guardian of the Horizon - Elizabeth Peters [98]
“Why, Emerson, what can it be?” I asked. I let out a cry of girlish delight and clapped my hands as Emerson produced…a bottle of whiskey.
“I have been hoarding it,” he explained. “And I think we deserve it tonight. Ramses?”
“Yes, sir, thank you.”
Selim and Daoud were drinking tea. Selim must have shown the servants how to prepare it and how to set out something that bore a rather amusing resemblance to a tea tray. The cups were without handles and the pot was just that—a brown, elegantly shaped earthenware jug with a pierced clay strainer atop. We settled ourselves comfortably and Emerson raised his cup. “To a successful end to our quest,” he announced. “May I stop smiling now, Peabody? I feel as if my face is paralyzed.”
“Just try to look affable, my dear. You have done very well. We have all done well, in my opinion. Our performance this afternoon must convince the king that we have accepted the situation.”
“Grrrr,” said Emerson, forgetting himself for a moment. “Ramses, have you anything to report? You were quite a long time in one of those back rooms.”
“This one,” said Ramses, producing a rough sketch. “There is a raised stone bench along one wall, reminiscent of a similar structure in one of the rooms of the palace we formerly inhabited.”
“Aha!” exclaimed Emerson. “The bench whose top lifted to give access to the subterranean passages?”
“Yes, sir. Unfortunately, although there was a corresponding depression under the lip of this slab, my attempts to release the catch were in vain.”
I recognized, with some regret, a return to the youthful pedantic speech patterns which Ramses had almost overcome. He must be even more worried than I had realized. My own spirits had lifted a trifle. We were acting—making plans—taking steps! Or it might have been the whiskey.
“Drink your whiskey,” I said to him.
“Yes, Mother,” he said absently.
He ate very little at dinner. I had had an idea that I thought might cheer him up, so I proposed it. “When we see the king I am going to ask if I may pay Nefret a visit. The priestesses are secluded, but I might be allowed when a man would not be. If the king agrees—and I will be very insistent—I can report back to you, not only on her health and state of mind, but where she is.”
“That is a good idea, Mother,” Ramses said, looking, if not cheerful, a trifle less gloomy. “It is important that we be able to communicate directly with her. If I know Nefret, she won’t take this lying down. Persuade her to appear submissive and tell her we are putting on a show of acquiescence in order to—”
“Yes, my dear, that was precisely what I had in mind.”
Ramses went back to his plan and Emerson and I took a little stroll in the garden. It was a pleasant place in the twilight, with vines covering the walls and a pool lined with blue tiles. The lotus blooms had closed into tight buds, but the velvety green leaves waved in a gentle breeze, spilling crystalline drops as perfectly formed as beads of mercury. Emerson is not unmoved by natural beauty, but on that occasion he spent most of his time inspecting the walls. He had to climb on a low stone bench to look over them, for they were eight feet tall.
“Well?” I asked. “Are there guards?”
“No need for guards. There’s a sheer drop, into a ravine thirty feet down. We could probably descend safely if we had ropes or some substitute for them.”
“Not much point in that unless we had some idea of how to get up the other side, and where to go once we were up.”
“Quite,” said Emerson. “Let us get rid of these damned servants, eh?”
He did so, with peremptory gestures, and then suggested somewhat pointedly that the others retire as well.
“Emerson,” I said, as he advanced toward me. “I hope you won’t take this in the wrong way, but I really am not in a proper frame of mind for—er—that. Not this evening. And not with that beard.”
“My dear Peabody.” He gave me a reproachful look. “That was not what I had in mind. Well—to be honest, I always have it in mind, but for once it was not