Lord of the Silent - Elizabeth Peters [81]
Dear Mother and Father,
Nefret has covered the main points. Nothing else to report as yet, but we will keep you informed. Sorry to hear about Bertie. I’m sure Mother will soon set him right.
Your affectionate son, Ramses
Dear Mother and Father,
It’s two o’clock in the morning. Ramses is sleeping—soundly, I hope—and I am crouched over the table in the saloon scribbling as fast as I can by candlelight and glancing guiltily over my shoulder at every sound. I am glad you warned me about finding that poor man’s body, but please don’t tell me anything else you don’t want him to know; he kept asking to see your letter and I had to lie like a trooper to keep it from him. It makes me miserable to lie to him, and when I’m miserable I act like a shrew because I feel guilty, and he’s so sweet and understanding and that makes me feel even guiltier! I’ll slip this note into the envelope with my other letter before I post it.
Fondest love,
Nefret
Jamil was hollow-eyed and half asleep next morning. He sat on his horse like a bag of rags. Jumana greeted them in her usual high-pitched shout. “Good morning! How are you? It is a fine morning! Did you enjoy a happy night?”
“Yes, thank you,” Nefret replied, avoiding her husband’s meaningful look.
“That is good. I have read all the notes I wrote down yesterday and I have sharpened my pencil. Jamil would not tell me where we are going today, but I asked my father and he said—”
“What did I tell you about keeping quiet unless you are asking questions?” Nefret prompted.
“It is true,” said Jumana. “I am as stupid as Jamil. I will ask the right question. What are you looking for in the Valley of the Monkeys?”
“What do you know about the place?” Ramses asked.
“I thought I was to ask the questions. Oh—it is a test?” Her face fell, and so did the pith helmet, down to the bridge of her nose. She pushed it back. “I have never been there. I have been in the other valley many times; I worked as a basket carrier for Vandergelt Effendi when I was little. At the school of Mrs. Vandergelt the teachers took us to see the tombs. I have seen Seti and Thutmose and Amenhotep—”
Nudged by a stern look from Nefret, Ramses cut in. “It is the tomb of another Amenhotep we are visiting today. His is one of the few in the West Valley, which you call the Valley of the Monkeys. Mr. Carter worked in the tomb this past spring for a short time. We want to see if anyone else has been digging without permission.” He would have left it at that, but the concentrated regard of two pairs of eyes, one blue, one black, demanded more. Reluctantly, for he disliked lecturing, he went on, trying to use words simple enough for her to understand. “Amenhotep the Third was the builder of the temple of Luxor and the two colossi on the road to Deir el Medina. He ruled at a time when Egypt was at the pinnacle—the high point—of its power and wealth. His chief queen, Tiy, was a commoner—that means she was not of royal birth—but she had great influence. Kings of other countries wrote to her asking her for gifts and favors. Their son was Akhenaton, who abandoned the worship of the old gods in favor of one . . .” Jumana was nodding vigorously. “Oh. You know about him from school? Good.”
They had followed the road that led from the public ferry landing past the temple of Seti I and the slopes of Drah Abu’l Naga, into the wadi that formed the approach to the two valleys. Several hundred yards before the entrance to the East Valley a track led off to the right. They were the only ones to turn into it. Few people came this way; the ground was uneven and littered with fallen stones. The rough trail twisted and turned between rugged cliffs and rocky outcroppings. They went on in single file, holding the horses to a walk. No one spoke, not even Jumana. It was so still they might have been the only living creatures for miles.
The weird wavering call fell into the silence like a scream. Nefret’s hands clenched on the reins. The others had stopped too.