Lion in the Valley - Elizabeth Peters [38]
Of these there were an embarras de richesse, so to speak. To the north stood a tumbled pile of stone that had once been a tomb of the same shape, though considerably smaller. We also expected to find next to the pyramid the remains of the funerary temple. From this building a long roofed causeway had led across the desert to the edge of the cultivation. In addition, the land near the royal tomb was filled with burials of courtiers and family members, just as people of the Christian era had caused their graves to be placed near the tomb of a celebrated saint, in the hope, one presumes, that the sanctity of the primary corpse would seep over onto the less worthy. Superstition, alas, is a basic human weakness, and not restricted to pagans.
Halting atop a ridge, Emerson shielded his eyes with his hand and gazed upon the scene. The breeze ruffled his dark hair and pressed the flannel of his shirt against his muscular breast. A thrill of (primarily) aesthetic pleasure ran through me as I watched him.
“Well, Peabody, what is it to be?” he asked.
“I am sure you have already decided,” I replied. “We have debated the matter endlessly, without agreeing, and I know you will go right ahead with your plan no matter what I say.”
“Peabody, I have explained on a number of occasions my reasons for postponing any investigation of the small subsidiary pyramid. I suppose, given your particular enthusiasm, even a little pyramid is better than no pyramid at all, but I believe we ought to search for private tombs and for the temple.”
Before I could reply, a high, penetrating voice said, “If I were allowed to cast my vote on this matter, I would suggest we begin with the causeway. That line across the desert, which is easily discernible from this slight elevation, surely marks its original course, and were we to follow it to its ultimate—”
Emerson and I spoke at once. Emerson said, “Yes, yes, my boy.” I said, “Ramses, be quiet.”
Mr. Nemo laughed. “Is that how it’s done?”
Pleased to see him more cheerful, I inquired, “And what is your opinion, Mr. Nemo?”
Nemo scratched his side. The gesture roused the direct suspicions; I vowed to myself that as soon as we returned to the house that evening, I would deal with him as I dealt with the donkeys. He needed more suitable attire as well.
“You cannot expect a sensible answer from me, Mrs. Emerson,” he said. “I know nothing of archaeology; like all ignoramuses, I would like to see you dig up jewels and gold. The best chance of finding such things, I believe, would be in the nearby private tombs.”
I gave Emerson a significant glance, or, at least, I tried to. He was not looking at me. “You are too modest, Mr. Nemo,” I said. “Your remark betrays a greater knowledge of archaeology than you would claim.”
“Oh, I got all that from Master Ramses here,” said Nemo calmly. “As we walked he gave me a lecture on the principles of excavation. Well, Professor and Mrs. Emerson—what is your decision? And what can a mere tyro do to assist? I can wield a pick or shovel with the best of them.”
Emerson fingered the cleft in his chin, as is his habit when deep in thought. Finally he said decisively, “Ramses, you and Abdullah can begin on the causeway. Stop at once if you come upon stone or brickwork. I must do a preliminary survey before we remove any object from its place, but as you have several tons of sand to shift, I should be able to finish before you achieve that end.”
Ramses frowned. “There is no need for Abdullah to share the supervisory role, Papa, since I am entirely capable of managing by myself, and he might be better employed—”
“Be quiet, Ramses,” I said. “Yes, yes, my boy,” Emerson said. He added, “Nemo, go along with Ramses. He will tell you what to do.”
“I don’t doubt that he will,” said Nemo.
We scattered to our appointed tasks. Mine was to assist Emerson with the surveying. To be sure, de Morgan had surveyed the site already,