The Falcon at the Portal - Elizabeth Peters [136]
“You needn’t worry, Mother,” said Ramses, reading my expression accurately. “I had to rescue him this morning; she had hold of his tail with both hands and was trying to eat it. He didn’t even scratch me when I detached her.”
“How long did you wait before you detached her? “David asked. He had never been fond of Horus either.
“A bit longer than was strictly necessary.” Ramses smiled. I was relieved to see that he looked tanned and rested and not so tense. Having David back was good for him.
Emerson had been scrubbing ineffectually at the jelly spots on his shirt. They looked unpleasantly like fresh blood.
“You had better change it,” I said.
“Never mind that,” Emerson grunted. “I thought we might just take a little ride and—er—“
“Have a quick look at the site? Emerson, I told you—”
“A ride would be enjoyable,” David said. “I haven’t said hello to Asfur and Risha. What do you say, Lia?”
It was obvious that she had anticipated something of the sort, for she was dressed for riding—not in the absurd garments that had once been de rigeur for lady equestriennes, but in the short divided skirt and neat boots both girls wore on the dig—and her ready acquiescence assured me she was anxious to return to the busy life she had learned to love as dearly as the rest of us did.
“Did Nefret—and Geoffrey—say anything about coming round today?” I asked, as we made our way through the garden toward the stable.
“I believe they plan to,” Lia replied. “Are they really … Is it true that they will be moving in with you?”
“Good gracious, Lia, you sound as if you don’t approve.”
“No, not at all, Aunt Amelia. I mean, no, I don’t mean to sound that way. Are these the stables? How nice the garden looks! It will be good to see the horses again.”
“Selim has taken excellent care of them,” Ramses said, as David flung both arms round Asfur’s neck and she nuzzled his shirt. “Shall we take them out, then? Mother, perhaps you would rather not—”
“If you are all going, I am going too,” I declared. “The mare Selim hired for me in place of that other wretched animal does very well.”
From the open door at the far end of the stable came a murmur of sounds—squeaks, squawks, and the rustle of straw. “I see Nefret has her usual collection of animal patients,” Lia said, looking in. “What on earth is in that large cage, and why is it covered?”
“Oh, dear,” I said. “I had forgot about him. I hope Mohammed …”
“He’s all right,” said Ramses, behind me. “He has to be hooded or covered so he won’t hurt himself trying to fly.”
He lifted the cloth covering the cage and Lia let out a cry of sympathy and admiration. The bird was a young male peregrine falcon, the same species depicted in the hieroglyph for the name of the god Horus. He sat hunched and unmoving, his great talons gripping the perch.
“Who has been feeding him?” I asked guiltily. I hadn’t given much thought to Nefret’s pets; I knew I could count on Mohammed to care for the others, but he had a superstitious fear of the great bird of prey. I knew the answer, though. Like Nefret, Ramses had a well-nigh uncanny rapprochement with animals, even feral beasts few people would have cared to approach. He opened the cage and reached inside. The bird stirred uneasily but did not struggle as his long brown fingers closed round its body and moved gently along the wings.
“The wing has healed,” he explained. “She wanted to give him a few more days’ rest before she freed him.”
“She always hates to let them go,” Lia said softly. “I suppose she has given him a name?”
“Harakhte,” Ramses replied. “She couldn’t call him Horus, since that repellent cat had already preempted the name.”
“It means Horus of the Horizon,” I explained. “Horus was a solar deity as well as the son of Osiris. After passing through the perils of the underworld, he emerged from the portal of dawn into a new day.”
“Thank you, Aunt Amelia,” Lia said.
The windows were always shuttered