The Last Camel Died at Noon - Elizabeth Peters [66]
I started to walk away, but Emerson caught me by the shoulder and spun me around. His eyes sparkled wickedly, and his cheeks were flushed with rising temper. “Here—wait, Peabody. What the devil are you doing? You have plenty of the cursed medicine, you got a fresh supply last time we came here.”
“Only enough for a week,” I replied. “It is important to have an adequate amount, Emerson; our lives may depend on the good health of the camels.”
The hand that held me tightened until it felt as if the fingers were digging into the bone. The eyes that looked deep into mine glowed like the purest blue water. Though the crowd of the sûk jostled us on every hand, we might have been alone in the desert waste, no one seeing, no one hearing.
“I won’t let you come, Peabody,” said Emerson.
“Your tone lacks conviction, my dear Emerson. You know you can’t prevent me.”
Emerson let out a groan so deep and heartfelt that a passing woman robed in dusty black forgot the modesty of her sex and turned a startled look upon the suffering foreigner. “I know I can’t, Peabody. Please, my dearest, I beg you—I implore you.… Think of Ramses.”
“I trust,” said my son coolly, “that no such consideration will affect your decision, Mama. I fail to see that we have any other course than the one Papa has evidently decided upon; and it would be as impossible for me to remain behind as for Mama to be parted from Papa. I am sure I need not trouble you with an expression of excessive emotion in order to convince you both that my feelings are as profound and as sincere as—”
I took it upon myself to stop him, since I knew he would go on talking until his breath gave out. “Pedantic little wretch,” I said, attempting to conceal my own emotion, “how dare you appeal to affection in order to have your own way? It is out of the question, Ramses; you cannot come with us.”
“Us?” said Emerson. “Us? Now see here, Peabody—”
“That is settled, Emerson. Whither thou goest, I fully intend to go, and I won’t entertain any further debate on the subject. As for young Master Ramses—”
“What alternative do you propose, Mama?” inquired that individual.
I stared at him, at a loss for words. He stared unblinkingly back at me. Never before had he looked so much like his father. His eyes were deep brown instead of brilliant blue, but they held the same saturnine expression I had often seen in Emerson’s when he backed me into a verbal corner.
For the alternatives were, to say the least, limited. Ramses could not be left alone at the excavation site, or in the army camp. Even if we could persuade the authorities to send him back to Cairo, via military transport—which was improbable—I did not believe that a full army corps, much less a single officer, could control him. If I could get his solemn promise not to run away… But even as the idea occurred to me I realized its futility. In a matter as serious as this, Ramses would not equivocate or prevaricate; he would simply refuse to give me his word. And then what? I felt fairly certain the army would not agree to putting him in irons.
“Curse it,” I said.
“Damnation,” said Emerson.
Ramses, wisely, said nothing at all.
A certain amount of equivocation on my part was necessary before we were able to start out. We had to borrow some of the army camels I had been tending, for no others were to be had at any price. This meant that our expedition had to be kept a secret from the military authorities. They might not have attempted to stop us from going, but they certainly would have objected to our unauthorized use of their property.
Manpower too was in short supply. The most reliable of the workers had been sent with Reggie, and their failure to return quite understandably acted as a deterrent to other volunteers.
Yet we persevered, as duty directed us, until we made a discovery that might well have marked the end of our endeavors. When Emerson went to look for Willoughby Forth’s map, it was nowhere to be found.
“I tell you, Peabody, I put it in this portfolio,” Emerson roared, scattering the contents of the portfolio all over the tent.