The Last Camel Died at Noon - Elizabeth Peters [173]
Reminded thus of my own duties, I hastened to relieve my suffering spouse. Servants, who treated us with the awe accorded royalty, supplied my requests for water and food, wine and bandages. Not until Emerson’s wounds had been tended, and I had seen the color return to his cheeks, did I allow him to talk. There was no dearth of conversation, however, since Ramses had a good deal to say.
I permitted this—nay, I encouraged it—since I was somewhat curious as to how he had managed to get from the tunnel to the interior of the statue. I did not even complain when he talked with his mouth full. As he ate voraciously of the roasted meats and fresh fruit with which we had been supplied, he explained it was his first meal for almost twenty-four hours. “Approximately half of the carriers of the god were supporters of Tarek’s. They smuggled me into the temple before daylight. As you may have observed, Mama and Papa, I am not unlike the people of this place in physical appearance; in the darkness of the sanctuary I was able to pass for the individual who had been selected (by Nastasen and the high priest) to manipulate the statue. He was—er—removed by Tarek’s men. I was assured he would come to no harm.”
He paused to swallow a mouthful of grapes that would have choked a normal boy, and his father said interestedly, “But how did you get in touch with Tarek?”
“Thanks to your warning, Papa, I was able to hide a number of useful articles in the tunnel before I had to retreat there myself. I had, of course, observed how Amenit opened the trapdoor—”
“Of course,” I muttered.
“Adults underestimate children,” said Ramses, looking smug. “She was careful to prevent you from seeing what she did, Mama, but she did not care if I saw. Also, Tarek had told me, during the dinner party when I had the honor of sitting with him, that there was a means of escape through the tunnel should we need to employ it. Additional messages, giving further details, came to me tied to the collar of the cat.”
“Of course,” I cried in deep chagrin. “Ramses, why did you not share this information with your parents?”
“Now, Peabody, don’t scold the lad,” said Emerson cheerfully. “I am sure he had excellent reasons for doing as he did. I want to hear how you found your way through that maze of tunnels, my boy.”
On the occasion of our visit to the false High Priestess, and again when Mentarit took us to Nefret, Ramses had marked the path by means of the chalk he carried in his pocket or pocket pouch. He was therefore able to retrace his steps to the room where Nefret had met us. Not only had he taken my matches and candle, he had squirreled away a lamp and an extra pot of oil, several small jars of water, and a packet of food. He was thus equipped for a fairly prolonged stay, should this be necessary, once he reached the room aforementioned. The message he had sent Tarek, via the cat, informed the former that that was where he could be found should it be necessary for him to retreat into the tunnels. He had beguiled the time of waiting by exploring other passages, using trails of thread to avoid losing his way.
“I discovered a number of interesting tombs,” he explained. “And of course I took copious notes.”
“Were you there, all alone, until last night?” I asked, forgetting my annoyance with him in maternal pride. I would never have told him so, for he was vain enough already, but I felt certain few lads of his age could have behaved as courageously.
“Not alone,” said Ramses. “Not all the time.”
“Tarek visited you there?”
Ramses nodded. “Tarek and… and…” His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
“And who? Mentarit?”
Again Ramses nodded and swallowed. His face had the same vacant look I have sometimes observed on the features of Evelyn’s infants. “And… SHE.…”
The capital letters are not an affectation of mine, dear Reader. Only thus can I begin to convey the intensity with which Ramses pronounced the pronoun.
“Oh, dear,” I said.
“Nefret?” Emerson asked interestedly.