The Ape Who Guards the Balance - Elizabeth Peters [44]
“It could hardly be otherwise, Madame.”
“Naturellement. I had hoped I might persuade your mother to write a little article for our journal. Have you perhaps seen it?”
“Not yet, but I look forward to doing so. I will pass your request on to my mother. I am sure she would be pleased to assist in any way. Now, if you will excuse us . . .”
“Un moment, s’il vous plaît.” Her hands went to the back of her neck. After a moment she lowered them and displayed a gold chain from which depended a small carved pendant. “A small token of esteem for your distinguished mother,” she said. “It is the insignia of our organization.”
Ramses bowed. “You are most gracious, Madame. Surely this is of ancient Egyptian origin—the baboon, one of the symbols of Thoth.”
“It is appropriate, n’est-ce pas? The ape who sits beside the balance that weighs the heart. It might be considered a symbol of justice.”
“It might,” said Ramses.
It was an ungracious response, I thought, and anyhow Ramses had been monopolizing the conversation too long. I reached for the little trinket. “The justice women deserve, and that they will attain one day! I will give it to her, Madame. I know she will treasure it.”
“Let me put it round your neck so you won’t lose it.”
She insisted on fastening it with her own hands. The pendant was carved of a red-brown stone. It was surprisingly heavy.
She did not see us to the door. The little garden was a magical place in the night shadows, redolent with the sweet smell of jasmine, but I was not allowed to linger; Ramses had me by the arm, and he shoved me into the carriage with more energy than courtesy. David helped Fatima in and we started off.
“What was the point of that performance?” I demanded.
“I wanted to have a look at the lady,” Ramses replied coolly.
“So I deduced. And what did you think of her?”
“I concluded,” said Ramses, “that she was no one I had met before.”
I hadn’t expected that; I had assumed that Ramses was playing big brother on general principles. “Good Gad!” I exclaimed. “Sethos? Ramses, that is the most far-fetched hypothesis—”
“Not so far-fetched. However, it appears my theory was unfounded. Sethos is a master of disguise, but not even he could take eight inches off his height or reduce the size of that prominent aquiline nose. The lady’s veil was thin enough for me to make out the outline of her features.”
“And I saw those features unveiled,” I reminded him. “There can be no doubt of her gender. Her cheeks were smooth, her countenance benevolent and kind.”
“Kind,” said Fatima, who had been following the conversation intently and who had understood that word, at least. “Kind, good teacher.”
Ramses said in Arabic, “Yes. We will get another teacher for you when we reach Luxor, Fatima. Won’t we, Nefret?”
“You mean me, I suppose. By all means, if we can’t find someone better than I. Curse it, Ramses, what on earth put it into your head that Sethos might have taken up a teaching career?”
Ramses looked a little sheepish. It’s hard to tell, I admit, but I have been making a study of his expressions, such as they are. “Sheepish” is two quick blinks and a slight compression of his lips.
“Father put it into my head. Admittedly he is not entirely reasonable about Sethos, but once he inserted the idea it found fertile ground. You’ve never seen Sethos in action. The man is a confounded genius, Nefret.”
“Well, you and the Professor were wrong this time.”
“You aren’t angry that we came after you, are you?” David asked.
I was annoyed, but not with him. I knew perfectly well whose idea that “rescue” expedition had been. I leaned forward and brushed the curls back from Ramses’s forehead. He hates it when I do that.
“You meant well,” I admitted. “But I find it difficult to forgive you for bringing me back in time to dine with those boring people.”
:
It took us almost two weeks to reach Luxor, despite the assistance of the motorized tug that accompanied us. The delays were only the