The Last Camel Died at Noon - Elizabeth Peters [98]
“I disagree. Anyone could climb that garden wall. I could do it myself.”
“You would tumble into the waiting arms of several guards, Peabody.”
“How do you know? Have you seen them?”
“No, but I have heard them. I assumed they would be there, for the garden is, as you suggested, a vulnerable point. Listening carefully, I could hear an occasional rattle of weaponry or a murmured comment. As for the windows, a man might squeeze through, but not without making a noise; they are too narrow and too high.”
“Ah,” I said. “So you have considered the possibility too.”
Emerson stirred restlessly. “What has put you in such a morbid frame of mind tonight, Peabody?”
“Can you ask?”
“I just did,” Emerson retorted. “And please don’t mention dire forebodings or feelings of incipient disaster. Here—what are you doing?”
“Listening to the voice of your heart,” I replied. “It is a trifle quick, I think.”
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” said Emerson. “How is yours?”
Sometime later, however, Emerson announced his intention of retiring to his own room. “Do you mind, Peabody? That wretched girl keeps flitting back and forth across the doorway. I can’t concentrate on… on what I was doing.”
I thought he had concentrated quite nicely, but I did not argue with him. He would not admit it, but he felt the same sense of incipient disaster that lay heavy on my heart. I was armed and ready; Ramses was neither—and twice before he had been lured from his bed by forces mysterious and unknown. So I bade Emerson an affectionate good night, and the last sounds I heard before slumber claimed me were his muted curses as he stumbled over a stool on his way to the door.
I would not like to claim that I am often awakened in the middle of the night by burglars, murderers, and other intruders. “Often” would be an exaggeration. However, it has happened often enough to hone my senses so that my sleeping mind is almost as alert as its waking counterpart. There was, I believe, no sound at all on this occasion; but I burst from sleep, propelled by that trained sixth sense, to find a dark figure bending over me. No lamps burned; the faint glow of moonlight from the garden did not reach to my bedside. But I did not require light to realize it was not the handmaiden who stood there. As I stirred, trying to roll away and off the other side of the bed, a heavy hand clamped over my mouth and an arm like steel pinned my body to the mattress.
CHAPTER 10
Assaulted at Midnight!
IAM not one of your weak, swooning females. I even know a few tricks of wrestling, thanks to assiduous study of ancient Egyptian reliefs and the assistance of my parlormaid Rose, who amiably allows me to practice on her. Neither strength nor skill availed against this opponent. When I raised my knee in an unladylike but shrewd blow, he twisted lithely aside and then lowered his body onto mine so that every limb was pinioned.
It was a hard, lean body, banded with muscles like leather straps. I could feel it only too well through the thin linen gown that was my only covering, and my own muscles began to weaken.
Warm lips slid across my brow, down my cheek… to my ear. “I come to help, not harm, Lady.” The whisper was hardly more than a warm, moist breath. “Trust me.”
Well, I had very little choice, did I? He went on in Meroitic, speaking very slowly and distinctly. “If you cry out it will mean my death. Hear me first. I put my life in your hands to prove my good (faith, intentions?).”
Indeed, the argument was persuasive. When he took his hand away I gulped a great breath of air. His body was tense and ready but he did not cover my mouth again. “Who are you?” I whispered.
“You will not call the guards?”
“No. Unless… Are you alone?”
He caught my meaning at once. The weight that pressed me down lifted, but he kept his mouth close to my ear as he said softly, “I am alone. Your man, your child are safe. They sleep.”
“Why are you here? Who are you?”
“I come to…” The word was unfamiliar to me, but his next sentence made its meaning clear. “There is danger. You must (escape, get