The Last Camel Died at Noon (26 page)

Murtek sucked in his breath. The child stopped. His finger went to his mouth. One of the spearmen stepped forward, lifting his weapon, and a woman burst out of the shop. Snatching up the child, she crouched and turned, shielding him with her body.

With a mighty crack Emerson's fist struck the would-be assassin square in the nose, sending him reeling back. I kicked the soldier in front of me in the shin, slid past him, and ran to stand before the mother and child. So great was my anger and agitation that my speech, I fear, was not entirely appropriate.

'Shoot if you must this old grey head,' I shouted. 'But touch this mother at your peril!'

'Very nice, Peabody,' said Emerson breathlessly. 'Though I have yet to see a grey hair on your head. I expect you pluck them out, eh?'

'Oh, Emerson,' I cried. 'Oh, curse it! Oh, good Gad... Murtek! What the devil do you mean by this?'

It was necessary for someone to take command, for Murtek had covered his eyes with his hands and the soldiers were milling around in a shocking display of military disorder. One of them bent over the fallen form of his comrade, whose face was drenched in blood; another waved his spear uncertainly at Emerson, who ignored him with magnificent aplomb.

Murtek peered out from between his fingers. 'You live,' he exclaimed.

'Yes, and mean to go on doing so,' said Emerson. 'Now, then, get along with you,' he added, pushing aside the spear that menaced him and giving the fellow a sharp shove.

Murtek rolled his eyes heavenward. By now I knew enough Meroitic to understand his comments, which consisted mainly of heartfelt prayers of gratitude towards various gods. It was clear that he had not been lying when he told us he had been made responsible for our safety. 'But who would have thought they would risk themselves for one of the rekkit?' he ended.

No one answered. Perhaps Murtek was rehearsing the explanation he would have to render to his superiors.

Impressed by Emerson's air of command, the soldiers straggled sheepishly back into line. The man Emerson had struck was back on his feet. He had suffered nothing more serious than a nosebleed.

Feeling a tug at my trousers, I turned to find the young mother clutching me around the knees. Ramses had taken the child from her; he was pulling at Ramses's nose, and the expression on my son's face compensated for a good many of the indignities he had inflicted on me.

'Cast the shadow of your protection(?) upon me, great lady,' the little woman gasped. 'Wrap me in the - of your garments(?).'

'Certainly, certainly,' I replied, trying to raise her to her feet. Murtek came tottering towards us.

'Come, honoured madam. Come quickly. You have done a thing not permitted, very dangerous - '

'Not until you give this woman your word she will be safe. I hold you responsible, Murtek. Be sure I will find out, by my magic, if anything happens to her.'

Murtek groaned. 'I think you would, honoured madam I will swear by Aminreh.'

He repeated the words to the woman. She glanced up; her face was streaked with tears, but the dawning light of hope that transformed it assured me that this was indeed a solemn oath. Still she did not rise, but showered innumerable kisses upon my dusty boots and tried to do the same to the sandals of Murtek. He jumped back as if she had been a leper - as, in social terms, she probably was. The strangest thing, though, was the way she behaved towards Emerson. She had knelt to me and kissed my boots; when Emerson approached, she flattened herself out like a doormat, face down in the dirt.

Emerson retreated, blushing furiously. 'I say, Peabody, this is cursed embarrassing. What the devil is wrong with her?'

I bent over the little woman but she refused to move until Emerson spoke to her. He was so flustered he had a hard time finding the proper words. 'Arise, honoured lady - er - woman - oh, curse it! Fear not. You are well. Er - the young male child is well. Oh, come along, Peabody, I can't stand this sort of thing.'

This last in English, of course. The woman must have understood something, for she hoisted herself to her knees. Covering her face as a sign of great respect, she addressed a brief speech to Emerson and, finally, indicated she was ready to retire.

We had to detach the baby from the nose of Ramses, which made him yell lustily - the baby, I mean, not Ramses. The roars went on until they were muffled by the door hanging falling back into place.

Murtek was not inclined towards conversation during the return trip, and for some time we also were silent, as we considered the dramatic incident and its possible ramifications. Finally Ramses (it would, of course, be Ramses) spoke.

'Did you understand what she said to you, Papa?'

Emerson would like to have claimed he had, but he is at heart an honest man. 'Did she call me her friend?'

'That was one of the words she used,' said Ramses with insufferable assurance. 'The entire phrase was something like "friend of the rekkit." The word " rekkit" appears to be derived from the ancient Egyptian for "common people."'

'Hmmm, yes,' said Emerson. 'Like other words in the speech of the nobility. The little woman appeared to be speaking a different form of the language. I confess I could hardly understand her.'

'She and the servants we have seen are also different physically/ Ramses said. "They might belong to another race.'

'They don't, though,' Emerson replied. Imprecision of speech always irritates him. 'That word is often misused, Ramses, even by scholars. However, there are subdivisions within races, and it may well be... Hi, Murtek.'

He poked the high priest, who was trotting along ahead of us muttering under his breath. Murtek jumped. 'Honoured sir?'

'Do your people mate with the rekkit?'

Murtek pursed up his lips as if about to spit. 'They are rats. People do not mate with rats.'

'Yet some of the women are not ugly,' said Emerson, giving the priest a man-to-man smirk.

Murtek brightened. 'Does the honoured sir wish the woman? I will fetch her -'

'No, no,' said Emerson, trying to conceal his disgust and giving me a sharp poke in the ribs to keep me quiet. 'I want no woman except the honoured madam.'

Murtek's face fell. Shoulders bowed, he tottered on up the stairs.

'Well, really,' I exclaimed indignantly. 'Apparently your interference would have been condoned, even approved, if you had wanted the woman for a concubine! To think that old reprobate would offer her to you like a pet cat! And in front of me, too.'

'Monogamy is not universal, Peabody,' said Emerson, taking my arm as we began to ascend the steps. 'And I believe that in many societies women welcome additional wives, for com-panionship and help with domestic duties.'

'That would not be my attitude, Emerson.'

'I am not surprised to hear that, Peabody.' Emerson sobered. 'It appears you were right, though; the rekkit are little better than slaves. They may have been the original inhabitants of this oasis; the present ruling class is descended from Egyptian and Meroitic emigrants, and marriage between the two groups is forbidden, or at least discouraged. I don't doubt that there has been a certain amount of interbreeding, however.'

'Men being what they are, I don't doubt it either,' I said sharply.

'Peabody, you know I never have and never will - ' 'Present company excepted, of course,' I conceded.

Murtek took leave of us with the forlorn air of one bidding a final farewell to a dying friend - or a dying man bidding a final farewell to his friends. He had aged ten years since we set out; two of the guards had to lift him into his litter.

'Do you suppose we have really endangered him by our actions?' I asked, as we preceded the remaining members of the escort towards our rooms.

Emerson replied with another question. 'Do you really care?'

'Well, yes, rather. He is a pleasant old gentleman, and one can hardly blame him for failing to rise above the mistaken standards of his society.'

'You should rather be concerned with whether we endangered ourselves.'

'I suppose we did, didn't we?'

'We didn't do ourselves any good,' said Emerson calmly.

'We had no choice in the matter,' remarked Ramses in his most dignified manner. 'There was nothing else we could have done.'

'Quite right, my son.' Emerson clapped him on the back. 'That being the case, we can only wait and see what consequences ensue. I have no doubt Murtek will report our adventure; he knows that if he doesn't, one of the guards will.'

Mentarit pounced on me, clucking and shaking her head, and insisted I change my clothing, especially my boots, which were encrusted with various noxious substances. I made no objection, since I was all in a glow from excitement, exertion, and the horrid hot climate of the village. I was trying to mend a rent in my trousers - an exasperating task, for though I always carry needle and thread, I have absolutely no skill in sewing - when Ramses came in from the garden. Cradled in his arms was a huge brindled cat.

I stuck myself in the thumb. 'Where on earth..." I began.

'It came over the wall,' said Ramses, an expression of almost normal childish pleasure on his face. 'It might be the sister or brother of the cat Bastet, don't you think, Mama?'

The creature did bear a resemblance to Ramses's pet, who had adopted us during an earlier expedition to Egypt. But though this feline had the same tawny coat as Bastet, it was at least twice her size - and Bastet is not a small animal.

'Would you like to hold it, Mama?' Ramses offered me the cat. I appreciated his willingness to share his pleasure, but decided to decline. Though the cat blinked its huge golden eyes at me, I noticed its claws were out.

Ramses folded his legs and sat down, murmuring to the cat, which seemed to enjoy the attention. 'Curious,' I said, watching them with a smile. 'We saw no cats in the village, did we?'

'It is likely that they enjoy superior status, as they did in ancient times,' replied Ramses, tickling the cat under its chin. A rasping purr accompanied Ramses's next words. 'This one is wearing a collar.'

And indeed it was - a collar of finely woven straw or reeds. I had not observed it until the cat lifted its head, for its fur was extremely thick and plushy.

Ramses amused himself with the cat for some time - if 'amuse' is the right word. It was uncanny to watch them, heads together, exchanging murmurs and purrs and, on the part of the cat, an occasional hoarse mew, for all the world like a reply to a question. Finally, however, it rolled off Ramses's lap, picked itself up and stalked away. Ramses followed it out into the garden.

Night seemed slow in coming. Such is often the case, I have observed, with something eagerly desired. But at last I reclined upon my couch and Emerson emerged from his room.

From his lordly stride, and the peremptory gesture that sent Mentarit giggling away, I got the distinct impression he was beginning to enjoy this procedure. My impression was further strengthened by certain actions on his part, which admittedly lent a new and piquant interest to the proceedings.

Sometime later we got to talking about assassination.

'Highly unlikely,' Emerson declared, still in his masterful mood.

'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 realise 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.

Assaulted at Midnight!

I am 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 parlourmaid Rose, who amiably allows me to practise 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.