Lord of the Silent - Elizabeth Peters [58]
Ramses is looking better than he has for a long time. He is even putting on a bit of weight, if you can believe it! Fatima must have taught Maaman some of her favorite recipes, and instructed him to feed us every few hours.
Two days later. I’ve lost track of the date. Isn’t that shameful? The days blend into one another. This time I really will write a proper report. I suggested to Ramses that he ought to do it, and he said he would, and then he went off to the saloon, and the next time I saw him he was reading some ponderous tome in German and admitted he hadn’t set pen to paper. So here it is.
You will be relieved to hear that the situation at Amarna is not as grave as you feared. According to Ramses, who seems to remember every confounded scene on every wall of every tomb—how does he do it??—the locals have not damaged them or the Boundary Stelae. He did have a few critical remarks to make about Mr. Davies’s copies of certain scenes, notably in the tombs of Ay and Parennefer. I think it was Parennefer. Never mind; it will be in his notebook. I had to drag him out of the tomb in question.
As for the city site, it is so extensive one can only make general observations. The area the Germans were excavating in 1913–14 has been partially recovered by blowing sand. Ramses says you will know the precise location, which is more than I do, even after having it shown me. It’s all so flat and featureless. We walked the plain from end to end—it’s over five miles!—and to think I was worrying about gaining too much weight!—without seeing any signs of recent digging. Really, the area is so large I can’t imagine how a would-be thief would know where to start.
We made a sentimental pilgrimage to the Royal Wadi one day. It is an incredible place, isn’t it—quiet as death and empty as a lunar landscape.
We had, of course, called on the Sheikh el-Beled as soon as we arrived. The Sheikh remembered you very well—especially you, Mother. As we drank coffee together, Ramses explained in his most flowery Arabic that you had a great interest in the site and would be very sorry if anything were damaged or stolen. The poor chap turned as pale as a gentleman of his coloring can turn. Did you really tell him you wanted someone’s head in a basket? You never told us that.
Later.
Oh, dear, I did it again. Ramses called me to come and look at the sunset, and one thing led to another. It was a spectacular sunset. The river looked as if it were on fire.
It is several days later, to be honest. I should be ashamed of having accomplished so little—I meant to read several medical journals and the new publication of the Egypt Exploration Fund, and practice drawing hieroglyphs so I can help Ramses copy texts—he never criticizes mine, but when I’m not looking he does them over! He thinks I don’t know, but I do.
It hasn’t been wasted time, unless being happy is a waste of time. We’ve been cut off from everything—no newspapers, no letters, no telephone calls. Ramses is getting a little restless, though; I know the signs. He can’t stand inactivity too long. We reach Luxor tomorrow, so our idyll will soon end. I will get this letter off to you as soon as we arrive and let you know in due course about the situation in Luxor.
Dear Mother and Father,
Nefret insists I add a few words. I can’t think why; she writes much more entertainingly than I, and she has told you everything you need to know, for the present at least. I certainly did not mean to speak disparagingly of Mr. Davies. There were only a few minor points, which is not surprising when one considers the vast extent of his work and the speed with which it was published.
As Nefret mentioned, the tombs at Amarna are undamaged. I did notice a number of new graffiti, all from the hand of a single tourist who may be a member of some