The Last Camel Died at Noon - Elizabeth Peters [75]
“So it is true,” I said, on a breath of wonder. “I can scarcely believe it, even though I see it with my own eyes. Tell me everything, Emerson. How long have I been ill? To what miracle do we owe our survival? Have you seen Mr. Forth and his wife? What is this place, and how has it gone undiscovered through all the years that—”
Emerson stopped my questions in a particularly pleasant manner, and then remarked, “You shouldn’t tire yourself, Peabody. Why don’t you rest and take some nourishment, and then—”
“No, no, I feel quite well and I am not hungry. The danger is that my brain will burst with curiosity if it is not satisfied instantly.”
Emerson settled himself more comfortably. “Perhaps you aren’t hungry. I must have poured a gallon of broth into you since last night, when you first showed signs of returning consciousness. You were like a little bird, my dearest, swallowing obediently when I pressed the spoon to your lips, but never opening your eyes.…” His voice deepened, and he had to clear his throat before going on. “Well, well, that terrible time is over, thank Heaven, and I certainly don’t want to risk the bursting of that remarkable brain of yours. We may as well take advantage of this time alone while it lasts.”
There was a strange note in his voice when he pronounced the last words; so anxious was I to hear his story, however, that I did not question it. “Begin, then,” I urged. “The last thing I remember is being laid gently upon the sand, and seeing you collapse at my side—”
“Collapse? Not at all, my dear Peabody. I was merely taking a little rest before going on. I must have dozed off for a bit; when I opened my eyes I could scarcely believe what they saw—a cloud of sand, rapidly approaching, raised by the hooves of galloping camels. I got to my feet; for whether they were friend or foe, demon or human, I meant to demand assistance from them. They saw me, the troop swerved, and one rider drew out in front of the others. He was practically upon me before I recognized him, and I verily believe it was sheer astonishment that made me—er—lose control of myself for a brief time. When I awoke I was surrounded by robed and hooded forms, one of which was pouring water over my face. I need not say, Peabody, that I turned from him to make certain you and Ramses were being attended to. It was Kemit himself who held a cup to your lips.
“He was soon pushed aside by another attendant, veiled in snowy white, who worked over you with an air of authority I had no wish to deny. Though my brain boiled with questions, I restrained them for the time; the most important consideration was your survival, my darling Peabody. After an anxious consultation it was decided to proceed at the quickest possible pace, for you were in need of attention that could not be rendered under those conditions. Ramses, too, was in poor shape, though not as serious as yours. I saw him lifted into the grasp of one of the riders, and helped place you on a remarkably clever sort of litter that had been rigged up, and then we set out. I rode beside Kemit and was able to satisfy some of my curiosity.
“He had not abandoned us; he had taken the only possible means of saving us. His first words were an apology for having been long. Living in the outer world, as he put it, had softened him; he was only able to run five miles at a stretch! The reception party he expected was waiting at the oasis—for that is what the water sign signified, a veritable oasis with a deep well. He led them back along the trail at full speed, and if ever there was a rescue in the nick of time…
“But after we left the oasis and set out on the last stage of our journey there were times, my dearest Peabody, when I feared rescue had come too late. Your medical adviser, if I may use that term, kept bathing and anointing you, and pouring peculiar substances