Lion in the Valley - Elizabeth Peters [15]
“I thought you were watching him. Oh, good Gad!” He threw his head back and shouted at the top of his lungs. “Ramses! Ramses, where are you?”
When pronounced in such peremptory tones, Ramses’ name never fails to attract attention, particularly in Egypt, where it inevitably suggests the summoning, not of a small disobedient English boy, but of the ghost of the most famous of ancient Egyptian pharaohs. One of the stouter ladies fell off the block on which she was sitting, and several others sprang to their feet with cries of alarm and outrage. Emerson began dashing around the platform, looking behind blocks of stone and ladies’ skirts, to the increasing annoyance of the persons concerned.
One gentleman had the courtesy to approach me and offer assistance. He was a portly, round-cheeked American with a bristling white mustache and hair of the same shade, as the prompt removal of his hat disclosed.
“I can’t quite make out what it is you’re after, ma’am,” he said politely. “But if Caleb T. Clausheimer can be of any assistance—”
“What I am after, sir, is a small boy.”
“A small boy name of Ramses? Thunder and lightning, ma’am, but that’s a curious name for a youngster! Seems to me I did see a boy here a while back. . . .”
I thanked him abstractedly and hastened to Emerson, who was peering over the edge of the platform. “He has fallen off, Peabody. Curse it! Curse it! I will never forgive myself. I should have tied him to me with a rope as I usually do; I should have—”
“Emerson, calm yourself. He can’t have fallen off. It is not a straight drop; we would have heard him bounce from step to step, and surely even Ramses would have emitted a cry on finding himself falling. No, he has started down by himself, heaven only knows why. I strictly forbade him to leave us—”
Emerson rushed to the north side of the platform and looked down that face of the pyramid. It was deep in shadow, but Emerson’s eyes, keen as an eagle’s, were further strengthened by the desperation of paternal affection. He let out a hoarse shriek. “There, Peabody—there, do you see? Two thirds of the way down, on the left. Are those not Ramses’ guides? And does not one of them appear strangely hump-backed?”
I could only make out the glimmer of the white robes the Egyptians wore. They resembled a patch of moonlight that was gliding down the weathered stones. There was certainly a group of people there—how many, I could not make out—and they were the only climbers on that side of the pyramid, since for obvious reasons the others preferred the lighted sides.
“I can’t tell who they are, Emerson, nor can I determine—”
But I addressed empty air. Emerson had flung himself over the edge and was bounding down the giant staircase like a man possessed. I immediately hastened to follow him, though at a more discreet pace.
By the time I reached the bottom and found myself ankle-deep in sand, Emerson was nowhere to be seen. I consoled myself by the fact that his body was nowhere to be seen either, so I could assume he had reached the bottom unharmed.
It may seem to the reader that I was more concerned for my spouse than for my son and heir. This was indeed the case. I had long since given up worrying about Ramses, not because of lack of affection (my feelings for the boy were those of any mother of an eight-year-old son), but because I had worn out my stock of worry on that subject. By the time he was five, Ramses had been in more scrapes than most people encounter over a long lifetime, and I had expended more nervous energy over him than most mothers expend on a family of twelve. I had no more to give. Furthermore—though I would be ashamed to confess such irrational thoughts except in the pages of my private journal—I had developed an almost superstitious confidence in Ramses’ ability not only to survive disasters of truly horrendous proportions, but to emerge from them undamaged and undaunted.
Not knowing what direction Emerson had taken, I set off toward the northeast corner of the pyramid. There was no one about; tourists and guides alike