He Shall Thunder in the Sky - Elizabeth Peters [176]
Percy—who was now paying him extravagant, hypocritical compliments and defending his tarnished reputation. If Percy was the traitor and spy Ramses suspected him of being, his interest in his cousin’s present activities was prompted by more than idle curiosity.
It made a suggestively symmetrical pattern, but what chance had he of convincing anyone else when even David thought his hatred of Percy had become an irrational idée fixe? Would any of them believe a member of their own superior caste, an officer and a gentleman, would sell out to the enemy?
He knew he couldn’t keep the knowledge to himself; he’d have to tell someone. But I’m damned if I’m going after him myself, he thought. Not now. Not until I’m out of this, and I’ve got David out, and he can go home to Lia, and I can shake some sense into Nefret and keep her safe. I couldn’t stand to lose her again.
•
Thirteen
•
After seeing Nefret and the Vandergelts, and Fatima, who had insisted on waiting up for them, off to bed, I put on a dressing gown and crept downstairs. The windows of the sitting room faced the road, and it was on the cushioned seat under them that I took up my position after easing the shutters back in order to see out. It was very late, or very early, depending on one’s point of view; those dead, silent hours when one feels like the only person alive. The moon had set; beyond the limited circles of light shed by the lamps we kept burning at our door, the road lay quiet in the starlight.
I was not aware that Ramses had returned until the sitting room door opened just wide enough to enable a dark figure to slip in. Two dark figures, to be precise; Seshat was close on his heels.
“Do you enjoy climbing that trellis?” I inquired somewhat snappishly. Relief often has such an effect.
He sat down next to me. “I had to report myself to Seshat.”
“How did you know I was here?”
“I knew you weren’t in your room. I looked in. I trust you will overlook the impertinence; I was a trifle anxious about Father.”
“So you saw him,” I murmured.
“Heard him, rather.” He gave me a brief account of what had transpired. “I hope you don’t think I did wrong in letting him go off alone.”
“Good gracious, no. Short of binding him hand and foot, you could not have prevented him.”
“How did it go on your end?”
“There was no difficulty. I arrived home well before the others.” The area of illumination looked very small against the enveloping darkness. “He has a long way to come,” I said uneasily. “Perhaps I ought to take the motorcar out again and go to meet him.”
We were sitting side by side, our heads together, so we could converse quietly. I felt his arm and shoulder jerk violently. “Again?” he gasped.
“Didn’t your father tell you?”
“No.” He seemed to be having trouble catching his breath. “I wondered why he . . . You drove the car home? Not all the way from Tura! Where is it?”
“In the stableyard, of course. Take a glass of water, my dear.”
“Father would say the situation calls for whiskey,” Ramses muttered. “Never mind, just tell me what happened. I don’t think I can stand the suspense.”
I concluded my narrative by remarking somewhat acerbically, “I do not understand why you and your father should assume I am incapable of such a simple procedure.”
“I believe you are capable of anything,” said Ramses.
I was pondering this statement when Seshat sailed past me and out the window. A thump and a faint rustle of shrubbery were the only sounds of her passage through the garden.
“Your father!” I exclaimed.
“A mouse,” Ramses corrected. “Don’t credit her with greater powers than she has.”
“Oh. I do hope she will eat it outside and not bring it to you. As for the motorcar—”
“Ssh.” He held up his hand.
According to Daoud, Ramses can hear a whisper across the Nile. My hearing was sharpened by affectionate concern, but it was several moments before I made out the sound that had alerted him. It was not the sound of booted feet.
“A camel,” I said, unable to conceal my disappointment. “Some early-rising peasant.”
The early-rising peasant was in more of a hurry