The Falcon at the Portal - Elizabeth Peters [48]
“I have no idea where you got that impression,” I replied. I did, though. Maude must have repeated some of the absurd stories Nefret had told her.
Poised on the summit, one hand shielding his eyes, Emerson scanned the surrounding terrain. His splendid physique was outlined against the sky, and his black hair gleamed like a raven’s wing. I wondered what the devil he had done with his hat.
“What’s he doing?” Maude asked.
Her brother chuckled indulgently. “There’s not room in that little head of yours for archaeology, is there? If you’d paid more attention to my brotherly lectures, you wouldn’t have to ask. He’s looking for buried tombs. Sometimes shadows define a sunken area or a stretch of wall. He won’t see much this time of day, though. Sun’s too high.”
Evidently Emerson came to the same conclusion, for he started back down. “Be careful!” I shouted, as a stone rolled under his foot and thumped to the ground. Geoffrey said something to Jack in a low voice, and Jack called, “It’s easier going on the other side, Professor.”
I had been about to point this out myself. The descent was more dangerous than the ascent, since a misstep would send the climber tumbling head over heels, with little hope of stopping himself until the rocky ground did it for him. On the east side much of the stone had been exposed, offering a rough sort of staircase. Emerson followed Jack’s suggestion, moving horizontally along the slope for a space before continuing his descent. He was within twenty feet of the bottom, moving with the same grace and agility he had displayed while ascending, when he suddenly stopped, stooped, and lost his footing. Staggering and swaying, he flailed his arms wildly as he strove to regain his balance. At one point his body was almost perpendicular to the side and I felt sure he was gone, but with a mighty effort he gathered his forces and threw himself back against the facing with a thud that roused the direst of forebodings as to the condition of his ribs.
I was, of course, already running toward the spot where I had fully expected him to land with an even louder thud. I began climbing, and I was not surprised to see Selim, who had remained aloof from the group, climbing beside me.
Emerson was flattened against the slanting surface, his back to me, one scraped, bleeding hand clamped over the edge of a stone. He turned his head and looked down.
“Confound it, what are you doing up here? Get out of my way, Selim, and drag her with you.”
“Drag who?” I cried. The side of his head must have banged against the rock. Blood matted the hair at his temple and trickled down his cheek.
“Whom,” Emerson corrected, with an infuriating but reassuring grin. “To be precise—you, Peabody. A mild crack on the cranium does not necessarily induce amnesia. Damnation,” he added, “the whole bloody lot of them is on the way up.”
It was a slight exaggeration; Maude had remained below, wringing her hands and bleating like a sheep. Emerson’s profane adjurations stopped the young men before they had got very far; they retreated, Selim followed, and Emerson swung himself down beside me, assisting my descent with helpful gestures and suggestions. “That stone is loose, try the next one over … what the devil did you think you were doing? … almost there … if I had fallen I would have swept you down with me. Your heart may be pure, though I have my doubts, but your strength is not the strength of two, much less ten. How dare you take such chances, you adorable idiot?”
The last words were mumbled, since we had reached the ground, where we were surrounded by our anxious companions. Maude cried out and covered her eyes when she saw Emerson’s face. It did present a rather horrific spectacle, smeared with blood and dust and perspiration. Geoffrey put a steadying arm round the girl.
“I tried to warn you, sir,” he exclaimed. “I almost took a tumble on that stretch myself last year; it is very unstable.”
“So I observed,” said Emerson. “I got it, though.”
And from his pocket he took a large potsherd of pale buff ware. On it, in black paint, was