The Serpent on the Crown - Elizabeth Peters [100]
“Not a hope. Dammit, she’s going to be furious.”
Moonlight made walking tricky, hiding obstacles in shadow. He was grateful for the support of David’s arm. By the time they reached home he felt all right except for an aching head; but his spirits plummeted when he saw the main house was brightly lighted.
Nefret was waiting for them, and she was definitely furious. When he had failed to come to bed she had gone looking for him; discovering he was not in the workroom, she had searched the house and, in the process, raised the whole household. They all trailed along when she dragged him off to the clinic and unwound the turban David had used as a bandage. It was like being attended by a flock of magpies, Ramses thought; they all settled down on various pieces of furniture and peppered him with comments and questions while Nefret bathed and bandaged his head. He let David do most of the talking. Nefret had already told David what she thought of him for collaborating in such a crazy scheme, and he was on the defensive.
“We took all possible precautions,” he protested. “It was seeing what I assumed was a woman that lowered my guard for a vital second.”
“Me too,” Ramses said.
“Keep quiet,” Nefret barked.
“It wasn’t a woman?” Emerson asked.
“If it was, she could run like a gazelle and swing like a batsman,” David said. “But that damned—excuse me, ladies—that all-enveloping tob, and the way she—he—moved, like a feeble old woman, took both of us in at first.”
“All right, are you, my boy?” Emerson asked anxiously.
“He’ll live.” Nefret pinned the bandage neatly in place. “If I don’t kill him. And David.”
“He saved my life,” Ramses said. “Again.”
“You think she meant to kill you?” his mother asked. Bright-eyed and alert, every hair in place, she sat perched on a stool with the voluminous folds of her dressing gown flowing around her. “Why?”
“That’s a good question,” David said. “We talked about it all the way back. Ramses claims he doesn’t know why.”
“People seldom murder other people without some sort of reason,” remarked Sethos. He was leaning against the wall, his arms folded. “Logical or otherwise. Ramses, have you been spreading alarm and dissension?”
“No,” Ramses snapped. “Well…”
“Well?” Sethos echoed.
“It can’t be relevant,” Ramses insisted. “I did spread the word that I was the only one, except Father, who knew where the statue was hidden. Mother had started a similar rumor, about herself, and I thought it wise to—er—”
“Take the danger upon yourself?” his mother inquired coolly. “That was thoughtful of you, my dear. But I agree that it does not seem relevant. If one wishes to learn a secret, one does not silence the holder of that secret.”
“Expressed in your usual pedantic manner,” said Emerson, now reassured as to his son’s condition. “Perhaps she—he—didn’t intend murder, but abduction and interrogation?”
“Man or woman, it would take more than one person to accomplish that,” said his wife.
“Thank you,” Ramses said. “Now can I go to bed?”
“Definitely,” Nefret said. “And if you say one word about breakfast at six, Father…”
Emerson looked at her in alarm. He wasn’t at all intimidated by his wife—their loud arguments were relished by both of them—but when Nefret spoke in that tone of voice they all knuckled under.
“No, no, wouldn’t dream of it. Sleep as long as you like, my boy. Er—eight o’clock?”
Nefret led him off in triumph, her chin set.
Their house was quiet and dark, except for the night-light in the children’s room. The dog was stretched out across the threshold. Ramses didn’t see her until he stumbled over her. Amira let out a moan of protest, Ramses swore at her, and Nefret told them both to keep quiet.
“Lucky the children didn’t wake,” Ramses said in an attempt at casual conversation.
“Lucky for you.”
She closed the door of their room and turned into his arms. “I hate it when you do this sort of thing,” she whispered.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too. For scolding you. It was only because—”
“Show me you’re sorry, then.”
The attack on Ramses was somewhat disturbing. My