Suzanne Robinson (25 page)

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Authors: Heart of the Falcon

BOOK: Suzanne Robinson
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“I’m sorry. Merab will be gone tomorrow.”

Anqet lifted herself from Seth. “And then I’ll leave.” She put her hand over Seth’s mouth. “I have decided. Now tell me. Have you sent for Dega?”

“Yes, but the messenger hasn’t returned from Crooked Palm. Neither has the man I sent to take care of Sennefer. About your leaving.”

“I don’t want to speak of it.”

“But—”

“No,” Anqet said.

Seth sat up. “If I didn’t have to check on those messengers, I’d argue with you. May the gods damn Merab.” He kissed Anqet and began putting on his clothes. “I must go.”

When he was gone Anqet washed, replaced her gown, and lay down again.

It’s no use. If I see him, I have to have him. If only he weren’t so cursedly tempting. Even his walk is carnal. And his hips.
Anqet drifted off to sleep with visions of Seth’s naked body.

There was a knock at the storeroom door. Three taps—silence—four taps. Seth’s signal. Anqet roused at the first sound. She dragged her barricade from the threshold and opened the door. An arm shot inside and grabbed her, giving Anqet no chance to run. Merab hauled her out into the yard with the aid of an assistant with yellow teeth and bad breath.

They dragged her to a lump on the ground that turned out to be a bound and gagged Uni. The Nubian stared a mute apology at her. In the predawn darkness it was hard to make out much beyond the patch of light cast by a torch in the hand of another of Merab’s men.

Merab grabbed a handful of Anqet’s hair. “I knew he was lying. Thinks he’s dealing with a fool. My man saw him leave the storeroom. Where is he?” Merab yanked on her hair. “Where is the count?”

“To the Boiling Lake with you.” Anqet spat on the ground. “I don’t know where he is.”

Merab let her go. “Hold her.”

Yellow Teeth and another man took Anqet’s arms. Merab drew back his arm. A loud snap accompanied by a scream and leap from Merab made Anqet jump. Merab yowled, rubbing his posterior. From the darkness she heard Seth’s voice.

“You wanted to know where I was, so I thought I’d let you know. Release the lady Anqet at once.”

Still rubbing his injured anatomy, Merab pulled a dagger and pointed it at Anqet’s throat. Anqet’s mouth went dry. She stared down the blade at the red face of the thief.

Merab searched the blackness. “You are a difficult man to follow, Count Seth. Thank you for coming back. Show yourself or the girl dies.”

Silence. Anqet closed her eyes and counted. One. Two. Three. Four Five. She opened her eyes. Holding his favorite whip, Seth stepped into view ten paces from the group.

Merab pointed to a spot in front of him. “Come here.”

Seth let the lash of the whip drop in preparation for a second attack. Merab delicately jabbed his dagger Anqet stopped her cry, but she couldn’t stop the trickle of blood that ran down her neck.

“No!” Seth shouted.

“Come here,” Merab said. “And drop that whip.”

“Don’t—” said Anqet.

Merab increased the pressure of the dagger, and Anqet thought better of finishing her sentence. Seth walked up to Merab. The thief held Anqet at daggerpoint while two of his men bound the count’s hands behind him with leather thongs. Once Seth was immobilized, Merab turned on him. Before he could do anything, a high-pitched whistle cut through the air Merab grunted and let out an answering call.

From all directions came the sound of pounding feet. Seth cursed and exploded into action.

“Run, Anqet!”

The count kicked Merab in the stomach. He bowled Yellow Teeth over with his shoulder Anqet dodged the remaining thief and headed for Seth. Men came running from every direction, strangers with daggers, clubs, and spears. One hit Seth in the stomach. Anqet charged him from behind. The three of them ended up in a pile on the ground. When Anqet rolled to her knees beside Seth, she found herself and the count in the middle of a ring of spearpoints.

“Get them up,” Merab said.

Merab shouldered his way to them. At a gesture from him, Anqet was dragged away from Seth. Merab rubbed his stomach. Standing in front of Seth, he growled an order Four men held the count’s legs and arms.

“Half-breed cur,” Merab said. He slammed his fist into Seth’s stomach.

Anqet cried out and struggled with her captors, but they held her fast. Rage flooded her as she watched the thief batter Seth.

Merab hit his victim twice more. The two men holding Seth’s legs fell back, for they weren’t needed anymore;
the count hung between the two thieves holding his bound arms.

Merab gathered a fistful of auburn hair and pulled Seth up to face him. “Look at me.”

Seth’s metal-green eyes opened.

“Not so proud and haughty now, are you. Think you can treat me like a stupid peasant?”

Merab backhanded Seth across the face. Blood streamed down the count’s cheek from a cut made by a ring on Merab’s hand. Anqet watched in horror She saw Merab nurse the hand with the ring on it.

The ring. She leaned forward to get a closer look at the object that had injured Seth. Merab’s ring had a flat bezel inscribed with that isolated feather of truth. It was a duplicate of the one she’d seen on Lord Sennefer’s hand the night he had offered her protection from Seth.

Merab’s ring; Sennefer’s ring. With a feather on each. A feather. Anqet’s thoughts raced back to the conversation between Merab and his leader She had thought they were saying “further,” and all along it was “feather” No doubt the ring was used by the thieves to identify themselves to one another.

“Oh no,” she said aloud.

No one heard her. The count sagged between his captors. Merab was puffing away, exhausted by beating the defenseless man.

Slowly, with defiant grace, Seth pulled himself erect. “Tired already? I suppose that’s what comes of forever stuffing one’s mouth with sweets. You’re puffing like an overheated cow.”

“Argh!”
Merab charged at Seth.

Anqet cried a warning, but Merab was halted by a man with a shaved and scarred head.

“Paheri, let go.”

“Lord Merab,” Paheri said. “Remember the master.”

Merab calmed down at once. He jerked free of Paheri and stood opposite his battered but insolent captive. Anqet could see the hunger in Merab’s face. This man wanted to
hurt Seth. She grew cold when a sly, pleased smile joined that look of hunger.

“Yes,” Merab said. With elaborate care, he grasped Seth by the shoulders and helped him stand more erect. “I forgot. The master’s orders were that you and the lady not be harmed.”

Seth tried unsuccessfully to pull away from Merab’s solicitous hands. He glanced uneasily at Anqet, who tried to speak. Merab interrupted.

“Yes, my dear Count Seth, the master has decided to pay you a visit.” Merab’s voice dripped with date-wine sweetness. He tenderly smoothed Seth’s hair back from his forehead. “You are honored, my young savage. Few know of the master, and fewer still have ever met him. Of those, only Paheri and I are alive.”

Merab giggled. Paheri snorted while his men shuffled nervously. Anqet let out the breath she was holding as Merab took his hands from her lover She’d seen the mingled triumph and apprehension on Seth’s face at the mention of the master. Thoth alone knew how the count planned to get them out of Merab’s clutches. She knew only that they’d better escape before the master arrived.

“A parting warning against any escape attempts,” Merab said.

The thief threw his whole body into the punch he directed at Seth. The count’s head snapped back and he crumpled, his limp body sinking to the ground.

Anqet tore loose from the men who restrained her and flung herself down beside Seth. She cradled him in her arms. The cut from Merab’s ring still bled. The last blow had already raised a livid bruise on his temple. Anqet could see that Merab had narrowly missed doing permanent damage to his victim’s eye.

“You might have killed him,” Paheri said after a quick examination of Seth’s body. He cut the bonds at the count’s wrists.

“Take them to the chapel,” Merab said.

Surrounded by armed men, Anqet followed the one who bore Seth through the service yard and across the
gardens to the opposite side of the manor grounds. Beside the house lay formal grounds with a stone-paved avenue flanked by four tall poles from which flew red and white streamers.

The party entered the temple through an open outer court with a roofed colonnade round the sides.

They trooped into the inner court with its rows of pillars. Paheri directed his man to lay Seth beneath the column nearest the entrance to the sanctuary. They lit the candles mounted in stands at the vestibule and filed out. Anqet rushed to Seth’s side. She heard Paheri deploying his men around the outer court, which was the only exit.

Touching her fingers to Seth’s throat, she could feel the voice of his heart throb steadily. She tore the bottom of her shift and dabbed at the cut on his face. She needed water She hesitated to enter the sanctuary itself, but finally snatched up a candle and went in. As she expected, there was libation water in a storage room beside the altar. She muttered a brief prayer On her way back with a bowl, Anqet saw a gilt-wood statue of Amun-Ra standing beside the falcon-headed sun-god. Other silent figures were shrouded in darkness.

Seth was lying as she had left him. Anqet unfastened the heavy falcon pectoral of gold and turquoise that hung to his chest. She loosened the matching beaded belt. Working first on his injured face, she sponged the count clean. While she worked, Anqet prayed that Seth would rouse quickly. She had to talk to him before the master of the tomb robbers arrived.

It seemed as though time slowed on purpose. The solar orb refused to show itself. Anqet sat beside Seth and studied the angular line of his jaw. She took his hand and sheltered it at her breast. The long fingers were cold. Anqet heard him take a deep breath. Seth moved his head. He grimaced and moaned. She studied him with one hand on his cheek. He opened his eyes and shut them.

“Where?” he asked.

“In the chapel.”

His chuckle turned into a cry of pain. Anqet allowed him a few moments to recover. She had to say it.

“Oh Seth, why could you not keep that clever tongue of yours still?”

The count fixed her with a blurry stare. “Because I didn’t want them to turn their attention to you. Those men are executioner’s meat. They’d think nothing of passing you around for sport, and I didn’t think Merab would stop them. Ah!”

“Don’t try to sit up yet,” Anqet said. She shifted Seth’s head to her lap. “Can you concentrate? There’s something I have to tell you, and it can’t wait.”

“I’ll be all right in a few minutes. I’ve had worse done to me.” Seth managed a smile.

Anqet didn’t return the smile. “My love, do you remember the words I overheard between Merab and the master? I said one of them might be ‘further.’” Anqet broke off. The double doors at the other end of the court swung open, “Seth, listen to me.”

“Not now. Help me.” The count hauled himself upright, using her and the column for support. He swayed on his feet until he put his hand on the column. He tried to draw Anqet around behind him. She stood close so that she could support him, but refused to hide at his back.

Three men approached through the dark court. One led the way flanked by two shorter figures. The leader had a sedate, graceful walk, the kind of walk Anqet would expect of royalty or a high priest. As the leader neared the pool of light given off by the candles, she clutched Seth’s arm.

“I must warn you,” she said.

Seth held up his hand. She watched his eyes widen in shock, the color draining from his face, and knew it was too late.

“Gods help me,” Seth whispered.
“No.”
He lowered his head.

Anqet squeezed Seth’s arm. “This isn’t your doing. Don’t let him destroy you. Don’t let him destroy us.”

Only she heard Seth draw a long, shuddering breath. Anqet watched her lover draw a mask of contempt over his mortal pain.

“I love you,” she said. Seth nodded but kept his eyes on the intruders.

The visitors stopped five paces away from them. The leader took two steps that brought him into the candlelight.

Seth lifted his chin. “Welcome, master.”

“I thank thee, beloved brother.”

Seth’s older brother stood before them as Anqet had never seen him. Discarding his semipriestly robes, he now wore the short kilt and battle armor of a warrior. A leather corselet overlaid with gold bound his chest, its crossed straps forming the protective wings of a bird of prey. The master’s wrists were also guarded by bands of gold-encrusted leather. He wore a long, braided wig and gold headband, and on his shoulders lay a broad collar entirely of gold and lapis lazuli.

“Going to a feast?” Seth asked.

Sennefer ignored his brother. He held out his hand to Anqet.

“Rose lotus, I tried to spare you this unpleasantness.”

“Hypocrite,” Anqet said. “Spare me? You wanted me for yourself. You’re everything you accused Seth of being. And worse.”

Sennefer gave an impatient sigh and motioned to Paheri and Merab. As the two headed for Anqet, Seth stepped between her and them. The thieves paused.

“Falcon,” Sennefer said. Seth didn’t take his eyes from the assailants. “Falcon, you don’t want her caught between us, do you?”

Seth shook his head but remained where he was.

Sennefer appealed to Anqet. “Come. You must leave for your own sake.”

“I’m not leaving Seth,” Anqet said.

“Yes you will,” Sennefer replied. “You will be my wife.”

Anqet took her place beside Seth. She slipped her hand in the count’s.

“You’re a criminal,” she said. “How could you desecrate houses of eternity?”

Sennefer waved his hand at Paheri and Merab. The two resumed their places behind him.

“Very well. I can see that the witch’s spawn has afflicted you with his vile magic.”

“Magic?” Seth shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

“You bewitched her.” Sennefer’s eyes lit with anger. “Look at her. Look at those fall lips and that body. She is the embodiment of desire and breeding. How could such a woman be so enslaved to a tainted seed if not by witchcraft?”

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