The Falcon at the Portal - Elizabeth Peters [61]
There seemed to be no point in hanging about. I was fully armed. My parasol and my knife were of no use unless I could come to grips with the fellow, but I had my little pistol. Raising my head, I took stock of my position.
Behind me the silhouettes of the Giza pyramids showed against the sky. The river, I knew, was below and on my left, though owing to my lack of elevation I could not see it. There was nothing else to be seen but the typical landscape of the plateau—pebble-strewn sand and piles of barren rock. Behind one such heap of stone my opponent must be concealed. The sun was high. It was later than I had thought. Time to be up and doing!
I extracted my pistol from my pocket and removed my pith helmet. Placing the latter article on the tip of my useful parasol, I raised it slowly. The result was most gratifying. Another shot rang out. Rising instantly to a sitting position, I fired in the direction from which (in my opinion) the bullet had come. I was about to fling myself flat again, in anticipation of an answering shot, when I beheld a horse and rider galloping toward me from the direction of Giza. What audacity the fellow displayed! He made a perfect target, or would have done had he not been moving so rapidly. For this reason I missed him with the first shot, and fortunately, before I could fire a second time, he had got close enough for me to recognize who it was. Catching sight of me, he reined up, leaped from the saddle, and flung himself upon me, bearing me to the ground. He was stronger than his slight frame had led me to expect; limbs and body weighed heavily on mine.
“Really, Mr. Godwin,” I remarked breathlessly. “I am taken aback by your impetuosity.”
“I beg your pardon, ma’am.” He blushed and shifted his weight into a position that was slightly less intimate but just as effective in preventing me from moving. “Was I mistaken? I assumed those shots were aimed at you.”
“I believe they were, yes. I appreciate your courageous attempt to shield my body with your own, Mr. Godwin, but there are several dozen sharp stones pressing into my back. The fellow has gone, I expect.”
A rapid fusillade of explosions interrupted me. They were distorted and muted and it was obvious to me that they came from a considerable distance, but Mr. Godwin’s chivalrous impulses overcame his common sense. With an exclamation of alarm he mashed me flat again.
“Curse it!” I gasped. “The villain is in rapid retreat, I tell you; I hear hoofbeats … Oh, dear. Oh, dear! Do get up, Mr. Godwin, before something really dreadful happens.”
Alas, the warning came too late. The hoofbeats were approaching, not retreating; they stopped; and over Mr. Godwin’s shoulder appeared a face set in a hideous grimace, teeth bared, cheeks dark with choler, eyes blazing. Mr. Godwin rose precipitately from the horizontal to the perpendicular.
“No, Emerson!” I shrieked. “No, don’t strike him! You are laboring under a serious misapprehension.”
“Indeed?” Holding the unfortunate young man by the collar, Emerson checked the blow he had been about to deliver. He did not, however, unclench his fist.
“Mr. Godwin was protecting, not attacking me.” I scrambled to my feet. Other riders were approaching. Emerson, on Risha, had outstripped the rest.
“Ah,” said Emerson. “My apologies, Godwin.”
“Put him down, Emerson,” I suggested.
Emerson did so. The young man tugged at his collar and smiled bravely. “Quite all right, sir. I don’t blame you for having the wrong impression. Someone was shooting at Mrs. Emerson, and I—”
“Yes, yes. We heard the shots too, and came to investigate. I thought they might have been aimed at my wife. People frequently shoot at her.”
The others had come up to us—Nefret on Moonlight, and Ramses riding David’s mare, Asfur. Nefret slid from the saddle and hurried to me. The sight of her reminded Mr. Godwin of his manners. With a murmured apology, he removed his pith helmet.
“Don’t fuss, Nefret, I am unscathed,” I assured her, as she ran anxious hands over my frame. “But Mr. Godwin appears to have suffered some injury. Is that blood on