The Golden One - Elizabeth Peters [205]
We could not even begin excavating the tomb chamber that day. The passage and the platform had to be completely cleared first and a method of stabilizing and removing the objects determined upon. Needless to say, all work came to a standstill; the men danced and sang and cheered and Daoud told them all extravagant lies about the treasures in the chamber. It was necessary to make arrangements for guards, by day and by night, for the news would spread like wildfire.
“We might stop at Gurneh and have a word with Mohammed Hassan,” I suggested. “A curse or two, perhaps?”
Emerson chuckled. “He will probably cry like a baby. Yes, I will point out the moral advantages of honesty. If he had not cheated Jamil, he’d have had a chance at this tomb.”
“It would have been a bit tricky,” Ramses said. “Even if they worked only at night, they would have left traces of their activities, and we might have observed those signs. That was why Jamil tried to lure us out into the western wadis. He wanted everyone away from Deir el Medina.”
Since the tomb must not be left unguarded for an instant, Daoud and several of the other men volunteered to stay until evening, when they would be relieved.
“I suppose you plan to sleep here every night,” I said to Cyrus.
“Every night and every day till we can get a steel door in place. Jumping Jehoshaphat, Amelia, you don’t know what this means to me! Katherine! I’ve got to tell Katherine. She’ll be so durned proud of this boy! And then,” Cyrus went on, grinning fiendishly, “maybe I’ll just run over to Luxor and break the news to Joe Albion. I want to see his face when he hears.”
We sent Selim off with a list of the equipment we would need, and dismissed the men for the day. A celebration was definitely in order; Cyrus had promised the greatest fantasia ever seen in Luxor, but that would have to wait. Excitement and exertion had left everyone weary, and Bertie and Jumana both showed the effects of several sleepless nights. I instructed Bertie to go home and rest.
We had an early night too. Tea and biscuits and Sennia’s excited questions revived Jumana temporarily, but I sent her off to bed immediately after dinner. Sennia would not go to bed until Emerson promised to take her into the tomb.
“Emerson, I absolutely forbid it,” I exclaimed, after she had gone dancing off with Horus in her arms.
“Oh, come, Peabody, don’t be a spoilsport. Ramses was in and out of worse places when he was her age. I won’t take her until we’ve made sure it’s safe.” He threw his napkin on the table and stood up. “I’m late. Vandergelt will be there already.”
“Emerson,” I said. “This is Cyrus’s tomb. He is in charge, not you.”
Emerson looked uncomfortable. “I suppose I am allowed to offer my expert advice?”
“Not unless he asks for it. He is generously allowing you to participate, which is more than you ever did for him!”
“Hmph,” said Emerson, stroking his chin.
“You might quite properly offer him the assistance of your staff,” Ramses suggested.
“Oh. Hmmm. Certainly. Including myself?” He gave me a questioning look.
I pretended to consider. Emerson had really behaved quite well, for him. “If he asks you,” I conceded.
“He asked me to stand guard with him tonight.”
“Then you may go.”
Emerson burst out laughing and gave me a bruising hug. “Thank you for giving me permission, my dear. Ramses, are you coming?”
“No,” I said, before Ramses could reply. “He won’t be needed. Nefret, you might have another look at his injury. In my opinion he overdid it today.”
FROM MANUSCRIPT H
Nefret had also noticed that her husband seemed abstracted. He submitted without comment to her examination, but she found no cause for concern. The wound was healing well.
“It’s nice to have an evening to ourselves,