The Last Camel Died at Noon (39 page)

It was a random shot, but it struck home. Impetuously she turned towards me, clasping her hands. 'He said that in your world women are the rulers. They wear wonderful garments, crimson and gold and blue; soft as a bird's feathers and covered with shining jewels.'

'Oh, yes,' I said.

A hand emerged from the swaddling and plucked disdainfully at my sleeve. 'Your garments are not soft and shining.'

'I have such garments at home, though. Would you wear your fine robes and ornaments on a long, hard journey?'

'No... And is it true, as he said, that the women ride in chariots drawn smoothly along wide roads? That they eat rich foods, as much as they desire, and some of it is so cold it hurts the mouth, and the beds are so soft it is like lying on the air, and frozen water falls from the sky?'

'All those things are true,' I said, as she paused for breath, shaken by an agitation she had certainly not displayed on Reggie's account. Honesty compelled me to add, 'For the rich.'

'He is rich. And a great one among you.'

'Er - yes,' I said, wondering what Lord Blacktower would think of the arrangement.

'He said he would take me with him,' Amenit muttered. 'He swore by his god. Can I believe him?'

'An Englishman's word is his - er - truth,' I said, finding translation somewhat difficult, especially since in this case I was not entirely convinced myself.

But I am not like the women of his country. My skin is dark, my hair has not the golden brightness of hers - ' She stopped with a snap of her teeth - one word too late. 'Mrs Forth's, you mean?' I said casually.

And his,' Amenit said. 'It is like red gold. He is very beautiful.'

My heart thudded with excitement. She did not know we had seen Nefret; that had been a genuine slip of the tongue which she had, with my assistance, managed to cover up. More than that - the difficulty of opportunity was solved! I saw the way clear before me.

'Would you like to be beautiful too, Amenit? The women of my country have ways to change the colour of their hair, lighten their skin -'

'And their eyes? I would want mine to be blue, the colour of the sky.'

I frowned. 'That is more difficult. It takes a long time and is sometimes painful, at least in the beginning.'

'We could start now! Then I would be beautiful by the time we get to your country.'

'I don't know...'

'You will help me! I order you!'

'Well,' I said, 'if you put it that way...'

Plots within plots! Even Machiavelli would have been out of his depth. But not I; the conversation had resolved several hitherto unsettled questions. The girl's desire to escape with her lover was entirely sincere, thanks to Reggie's cleverness in seducing her not only with his charms but with the promise of wonders that must sound like magic to a primitive and ambitious young woman. I could believe in her desire for these things much more readily than I could in her love for Reggie.

I said as much to Emerson that night after we had sought the privacy of our connubial couch.

'I had no idea you were such a cynic about young love, Peabody,' was his reply.

'I am only cynical about Amenit. Not all women are like that, Emerson, as you ought to know.'

'You will have to convince me, Peabody.'

So I did - a procedure that has no part in this story. When he confessed that he was thoroughly convinced, I finished reporting my conversation with Amenit. 'She wanted me to begin at once, but I put her off by demanding certain ingredients - oil, herbs, and the like - which she had not at hand. I had not quite decided what method to use -'

'Don't tell me,' Emerson said nervously.

'You will have your little joke, Emerson. I also felt it advisable to wait another day, in case something develops.'

'It is likely to be something unpleasant,' muttered Emerson. 'I have suggested to Ramses that he stay on the alert and be ready to bolt into hiding if Nastasen pays us another call. I am a man of iron control, Peabody, as you know, but I fear my control would snap if someone laid violent hands on my son. And you - I well remember what you did on an earlier occasion, when you believed Ramses had been seriously injured.'""

'You keep referring to that occasion and I keep telling you I have not the slightest recollection of behaving in such an ill-bred fashion. It is a good thought, though; getting Ramses out of a. dungeon might present some difficulty.'

'You may get away, Peabody- as Amenit's beauty consultant and personal maid.'

'Your humour is decidedly macabre tonight, Emerson. She is probably planning to take the magic potions I concoct and then do away with me. Now let us be serious. This is how I see it. Nastasen believes Amenit is loyal to him - he has probably promised to marry her and make her queen. She supports him against Tarek, but unbeknownst to either she plans to flee the country with Reggie. She is desperately jealous of Nefret - '

'It sounds like the plot of one of those absurd novels you women read,' Emerson muttered. 'What makes you think she is jealous?'

'Oh, Emerson, it is obvious. Being a man you would not understand, so you will have to take my word for it. Amenit does not give a curse about us, she only agreed to take us along because Reggie insisted. She will not lift a finger to save us from Nastasen; in fact, her mission would be a good deal simpler if we were out of the picture.'

'Wouldn't it be ironic if she attempted to poison us while you are in the process of poisoning her? Bodies everywhere, like the last act of Hamlet.'

'Emerson, if you don't stop that -'

'Sorry, my dear. Continue; your exposition is quite clear and logical.'

'I... Where was I? Oh, yes. If Nastasen does decide to commit murder, he will make a clean sweep of it - all three of us and Reggie as well. So far as he is concerned, we are equally expendable, and she can hardly explain to him why Reggie should be treated differently.'

'Yes, that's fine as far as it goes,' said Emerson, who seemed determined to look on the gloomy side. 'But there are other complications. Pesaker -'

'Seeks power for his god and, thereby, for himself. He will insist we be saved for the sacrifice. Bread and circuses, you know - the method by which tyrants control the mob. Murtek is another complication; in my equation he is represented by an x, for unknown. I have not abandoned all hope of his assistance, however.'

'I have,' said Emerson. 'What about Tarek?'

'We have to assume he spoke only the truth, Emerson. Nefret trusts him, and we have no reason not to. There is something about his role I don't understand, though. He is now discredited, a fugitive - why is it so important that he be recaptured before the ceremony, at which Nastasen will certainly receive the nod of the god, since the High Priest of Amon is one of his supporters? They are even willing to take the risk of leaving us here, in relative freedom, in the hope of trapping Tarek. Unless Murtek, devious old man that he is, is secretly on Tarek's side and thinks Tarek can still rescue us...'

'I wouldn't count on Tarek,' said Emerson, sighing deeply. 'He'll do well to avoid recapture.'

'Oh, I am not counting on anyone, Emerson. Except ourselves. If all else fails, we will simply have to drug our attendants, overpower the guards, raise the rekkit to arms, and take over the government."

'Peabody, Peabody!' Emerson seized me tightly in his arms and muffled his laughter against my hair. 'You are the light of my life and the joy of my existence and - and all that. Have I mentioned lately that I adore you?'

I was pleased to have put him in a more cheerful mood.

We needed all the good cheer we could summon, for the following day proved to be full of unpleasant surprises.

The first occurred in the morning. I was inspecting my medical chest trying to decide what to use on Amenit when the now-too-familiar tread of marching feet heralded a new danger.

My first thought was for Ramses. Turning, I was just in time to catch the flutter of his little kilt as he scuttled into the next room One anxiety being relieved - for I had often had occasion to search for my son and knew he could elude pursuit indefinitely - I braced myself for the next.

The guards did have a prisoner, but it was not Tarek. I had not realised I was holding my breath until it burst explosively from my lungs. Reggie - for it was he - smiled at me and waved his hand in greeting He was a trifle pale but appeared to be unharmed.

After a brief delay Nastasen entered, accompanied by more soldiers and the two High Priests. He did not appear to be in a pleasant state of mind - which augured well, I thought, for Tarek. 'This one has confessed,' he announced, gesturing at Reggie. 'You are all guilty - you tried to kill me and steal my crown.'

'Don't believe him,' Reggie cried. 'I - '

One of the guards gave him a shove that sent him staggering. 'I have no use for him now,' Nastasen went on. 'Where is the boy?'

Before long not a single article of furniture remained upright and every hanging had been torn down. Early in the proceedings Nastasen lost his temper and began throwing the furniture around with his own royal hands. It would have been humorous had I been less worried; at one point he overturned a large wine jar, whose contents splashed his beautiful sandals, and then put his head in to make sure Ramses had not been submerged within. Finally Pesaker approached his infuriated prince and began murmuring into his ear.

He had probably learned, through constant practice, how to deal with the royal temper tantrums. The end result was that Nastasen got himself under control and strode away to direct the search in person. The High Priest of Amon followed him. Murtek hesitated, but only briefly, before creaking after the others.

Reggie dropped onto a pile of cushions and hid his face in his hands. 'Forgive me,' he murmured. 'The strain of the past hours..."

Amenit went to him and stroked his hair. He looked up at her with a smile. 'I am better now. But poor little Ramses. Where has he gone? Is he safe?'

'Safer than he would be in Nastasen's dungeon,' said Emerson, reaching for his pipe.

'Are you certain? He is so young, he may have got into some trouble.'

'I don't know where he is, if that is what you are asking,' Emerson replied.

'They have searched every corner,' Reggie muttered. 'There is only one place he can be.'

'Why don't you trot off and tell Nastasen ?' Emerson inquired sarcastically.

Reggie gave him a reproachful look and was silent.

The truth is I was not as easy as Emerson about Ramses, and I suspected he was not as easy as he pretended. There was only one place - the tunnel through which Amenit had led us to observe the false High Priestess. I had not seen how she opened the trapdoor, but Ramses was an expert at finding out things he was not supposed to know. Was Nastasen aware of the hidden passage? If he was not, would Amenit tell him? She might have reasons of her own for keeping quiet - or she might not. How long could Ramses stay there in the dark, without food or water? Even worse - would he be foolish enough to search for another way out of the maze? Knowing my son's monstrous self-confidence, I feared the answer to that question was yes.

At last the sounds of activity in the back chambers stopped, leaving an ominous silence. I could stand the suspense no longer. 'I am going to see what they are doing,' I announced, checking to make certain my belt was firmly buckled. 'I can stand the suspense no longer.'

With a rueful smile Emerson took my arm. 'I was wondering which of us would be first to admit it.'

Reggie and Amenit trailed after us. We found the search party gathered in the room where I had feared they would be. The High Priest of Amon had Nastasen by the arm and was speaking vehemently. He broke off when he saw us.

'No luck?' Emerson inquired. Then he translated 'Good fortune has not attended your efforts?'

'Not yet,' said Nastasen. 'But soon it will. I am glad you are here to see.' Turning, he indicated the stone slab. 'This is a secret place, known to only a few. I did not think the boy could know of it. When I find him, I will ask how he found out.'

He pressed the heels of both hands into shallow indentations under the edge of the slab. Pesaker rolled his eyes and started to expostulate, but he was too late; the slab started to rise and the secret place was secret no longer - not from us, nor from the staring guards.

Nastasen snatched a lamp from one of the men and leaned over the hole. His voice echoed hollowly. 'He is not here.'

'He has retreated into the passage out of sight,' said Pesaker. 'Let the men go and look for him, my prince - since now they know the secret.'

The men were more intelligent than their prince. The implications of that ominous remark were not lost upon them, and it was with extremely dour expressions that they descended, one by one, into a dark maze from which they might or might not come out.

I reached for Emerson's hand. It gripped mine with bruising force. My heart was thudding against my ribs. There was a good chance that Ramses could elude them, but I didn't know whether to hope they would find him or that they would not.

A voice boomed hollowly from the bottom of the stairs. 'He is not here, my prince.'

'Search farther back,' Nastasen shouted.

'How far, my prince?'

'Until you find him, you stupid (a small rodent of unsanitary habits).'

Murtek cleared his throat. 'My prince - forgive this low person - but he is only a child, and too young to know fear of dark places. If this leads to the tunnels, he can avoid large clumsy men forever. Would it not be better to (entice, persuade, lure) him to come out?'

Nastasen considered this novel idea. The light of the single remaining lamp reflected from his eyeballs. 'Yes,' he said finally. 'It is my judgment that we should entice him to come out. You - woman - call your son.'

So distraught was I that I might actually have done so, had not the High Priest of Amon intervened. He was shaking with exasperation. 'My prince, the boy will not come out if he knows we are here. It may be he is too far away to hear his mother's voice. If you will let me speak...' He drew Nastasen aside and muttered at him.