The Last Camel Died at Noon - Elizabeth Peters [125]
“We are most grateful for Your Highness’s kindness,” I said. “And as my husband has said, we deeply regret any inadvertent rudeness. Perhaps the best thing would be for us to leave. We will need camels—a dozen or so should be sufficient—and an escort as far as the oasis.”
Emerson choked and muttered something. The word might have been “incorrigible.”
Tarek leaned back in his chair and studied me unsmilingly. “What, would you leave us? Perhaps what you say is true; we should teach, not punish you. You could also teach us, and win great honor and high position.”
“Yes, well, that is very good of you, but I am afraid we must be going.”
Emerson had enjoyed a hearty if muffled laugh during the conversation. Now he sobered and spoke slowly and emphatically. “You know why we came, Tarek. Our friend is found, as you see. You tell me that the others we sought are with the gods. We have accomplished our task. It is time for us to return to our own place, our own country.”
The High Priest followed that speech, or part of it. (Was that why Emerson had used simple words and spoken slowly? I wondered.) Hands clenched on the arms of his chair, he burst out, “No! It is forbidden! What, will you allow these strangers, these——, to defy the laws of—”
Tarek caught his eye, and he stopped.
“My friends,” said Tarek. “For you are my friends; can my heart deny those whom I have loved, even when they love me not? If you must go, you will have your way, though I will mourn you as I would those who have gone to the god.”
“Somehow I don’t like the sound of that,” murmured Emerson. Aloud he said, “You will help us, then?”
Tarek nodded.
“When?” Emerson asked.
“Soon, my friends.”
“Tomorrow?” I asked.
“Oh, but such a journey cannot be arranged so quickly,” said Tarek, whose English had improved noticeably. “A fitting escort, gifts… Ceremonies of honor and farewell.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “Ceremonies,” I repeated.
“You wish to observe our customs,” said Tarek. “Our strange, primitive ceremonies. That is your interest, is it not? That is one reason why you came. Yes. You will observe the greatest ceremony of all before you… depart. It is soon, very soon. And then, my friends… your departure.”
“Oh, dear,” I said. “I fear I was sadly mistaken in our friend Tarek.”
“For one thing,” said Emerson, “he speaks English much better than he led us to believe. A credit to his teacher, eh, Peabody?”
“Yes, although personally I found his style of speaking rather florid. He sounded exactly like—”
“How can you be so calm?” Reggie burst out. “Didn’t you understand the threat behind those suave words?”
“Why, I suppose they were meant to convey a threat,” said Emerson. He took out his pipe and gazed sadly at it. “But what threat precisely? We have seen no indication that these people practice human sacrifice.”
“They do, though,” Reggie said, biting his lip. “Tarek described in grisly detail…”
He broke off, shuddering. Ramses said interestedly, “How is it done, Mr. Forthright? In the old Egyptian style, by smashing the victim’s head with a club, or—”
“Never mind, Ramses,” I said. “If Mr. Forthright is correct, we may have a firsthand opportunity to find out.”
“You astonish me, Mrs. Emerson,” Reggie exclaimed. “You are not taking this seriously. I assure you—”
“Let me assure you that we take it very seriously,” said Emerson, sucking on his empty pipe. “But look on the bright side, Mr. Forthright. If we have been chosen for the star roles in the performance, they will take very good care of us in the meantime. I wonder…” He made a face and removed the pipe from his mouth. “I wonder if Tarek could get me some tobacco. Obviously these people trade with some of the Nubian tribes.”
“Well, Professor, I must say you are a credit to the British nation,” said Reggie admiringly. “Stiff upper lip, eh? If it’s tobacco you want, I can supply you. I brought along an extra tin.”
“You did?” Emerson clapped him on the back. “I will be in your debt, my dear chap. A nasty, dirty habit, as Mrs. Emerson