The Last Camel Died at Noon (46 page)

'Were you there, all alone, until last night?' I asked, forgetting my annoyance with him in maternal pride. I would never have told him so, for he was vain enough already, but I felt certain few lads of his age could have behaved as courageously.

'Not alone,' said Ramses. 'Not all the time.'

'Tarek visited you there?'

Ramses nodded. 'Tarek and... and...' His prominent Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

'And who? Mentarit?'

Again Ramses nodded and swallowed. His face had the same vacant look I have sometimes observed on the features of Evelyn's infants. 'And... SHE

The capital letters are not an affectation of mine, dear Reader. Only thus can I begin to convey the intensity with which Ramses pronounced the pronoun.

'Oh, dear,' I said.

'Nefret?' Emerson asked interestedly. 'What a brave little girl she is, to take such a risk.'

'SHE,' Ramses began. 'SHE...'

I was tempted to kick him, as I have seen exasperated owners of motor cars kick the engine when it won't start. Fortunately Emerson changed the subject.

'Well, my boy, I am proud of you, and I know your mama is too. That you should have pursued your archaeological research under those conditions is really splendid. Where are your notebooks?'

'Tarek has them,' said Ramses, who was glib enough on every subject but one. 'I hope he will remember to return them before we go.'

'We can trust Tarek to do whatever is necessary,' I declared. 'He is willing to trust us in an equally important matter, and I think we must give him our word that we will never speak or write of what we found here.'

Ruefully, Emerson nodded in agreement. 'Tarek is right. Treasure hunters and adventurers, not to mention the soldiers of the European powers, would descend on this place and wreak havoc. We must and will keep silent. But curse it, Peabody, what a lost opportunity for research! It would make us the most famous archaeologists of all time!'

'We are already that, Emerson. And even if we were not, we could not build our reputations on the destruction of an innocent people.'

'Very true, my dear. And,' Emerson added, brightening, 'we have seen enough and taken enough notes to throw a very useful light on ancient Meroitic culture. So we are agreed, eh? Let'sdrink to that.'

So we did - Ramses in water, despite his objections - and it will now be clear to the Reader why the map that accompanies this text and the description of our route, have been deliberately designed to mislead. The day will come, no doubt, when new inventions will allow the exploration of the western desert, and the hidden valley will be opened to the outside world; but never will this come about through the breaking of his or her word by an Emerson.

Though I urged my valiant spouse to snatch a few hours of needed sleep, he insisted he did not need it. 'We must be ready to leave as soon as Tarek comes for us. We aren't in the clear yet, Peabody and Tarek knows it - that's why he is waiting until night to get us away. Not only will Nastasen's disappointed allies be burning for revenge, but there is probably a party, composed of people like Murtek, who would love to keep us here, picking our brains and using our prestige to enhance their authority.'

'You are right, Papa,' said Ramses. 'I heard Murtek arguing with Tarek - most deferentially, of course - on that very topic. Not even Murtek knows that - SHE - is going with us. The priests believe - HER - to be the incarnation of Isis, and would not willingly give - HER - up.'

I had a feeling that Ramses's capitals were going to get on my nerves, but this was not the time to raise the issue. 'Poor child,' I said, 'she has had a terrible time and I am afraid she will find it difficult to adjust to a new life. We must do all we can to help her. Ramses, you must never ever mention that her mother - '

'Please, Mama,' said Ramses in tones of freezing dignity. 'I am deeply hurt that such a thought should enter your mind. The happiness of - of - he choked, but managed to get the words out - 'of Miss Nefret is as vital to me as my own. I would - I would - er - do anything to ensure it.'

'I beg your pardon, Ramses. I believe you.' It would have been impossible not to; his eyes had the fearful shine of a religious fanatic's. Deliberately I went on, 'But it won't be necessary for you to do anything more. She has a loving home awaiting her, and a great fortune as well. When I think of the joy of her dear old grandfather - '

'Hmph,' said Emerson, clearing his throat. 'Ramses, my boy, why don't you go and have a nice wash?'

'It seems a waste of time,' objected Ramses. 'I will be dirty again almost immediately. The desert journey - '

'At least you can start out clean,' I said. You don't want -HER - curse it, I mean Nefret - to see you so grubby and dishevelled, do you?'

Ramses had opened his mouth to protest. He closed it again, looked thoughtful, and left.

'Oh, dear,' I said, sighing. 'Emerson, I am afraid we are in for it. Did you see how Ramses - '

'I saw Ramses go, which was what I intended. I don't want him to hear this.'

'What, for heaven's sake? You alarm me, Emerson.'

'There is no cause for alarm, Peabody - not for us, at any rate. It is that poor child, for whom I feel the same loving concern that Ramses, to his infinite credit, has displayed.'

'Not quite the same sort of concern,' I murmured.

'I beg your pardon, Peabody?'

'Never mind. Go on, my dear.'

'I don't think you quite grasp all the implications, Peabody.

Remember Willoughby Forth's innocent raptures about his pure young bride, and a certain phrase in his letter to his father. Consider again what you said to that poor woman just before she flew into a rage. Recall the date of Nefret's birth - Forth's rejection of his former life - the infanticidal madness of his wife - the reputation of that old rip his father...'

'Oh, no, Emerson,' I gasped. 'Surely not!'

'We may never know for certain,' Emerson said, 'and I, for one, would prefer not to know. But I will not hand that shining child over to her old villain of a... whatever he may be. He is no fit guardian for an innocent young girl. If what we suspect is true he might even be cad enough to tell her; and I would never sleep soundly again if I had been a party to such a dreadful thing. It would shatter the child. She has had anguish enough. What she needs... But I needn't tell you, Peabody, you know.'

I had to clear my throat before I could speak. 'No, Emerson, I don't believe I do. That is - what do you think it is she needs?'

'Why, a normal, ordinary, loving home, of course. The tender care of a mother, the protection of a strong yet gentle father, playmates of her own age and intellectual capacity... Ah, but I can safely leave all that to you, my dear. I have every confidence in your ability to make the proper arrangements.'

He did not seem to expect a reply, which was just as well. I do not believe I was capable of articulation.

When Tarek came for us, we were ready and waiting. The servants had brought a fresh shin for Emerson, and robes, like those of the Beduin, for us all. There was nothing more we could do to prepare, but I must say that Ramses was as clean as I have ever seen him.

Tarek was dressed like a soldier, with sword and dagger, bow and quiver. His only insignia of rank was a narrow fillet of gold, with the twin uraeus serpents on his brow. He sank wearily into a chair. 'The moon has not yet risen. There is a little time before you must go; let us talk together, for my heart tells me we shall not meet again.'

'Bah,' said Emerson. 'Don't be such a pessimist. We will honour our promise to keep the Holy Mountain a secret, but life is long and full of surprises.'

Tarek smiled. 'The Father of Curses speaks wisely.' He placed an affectionate hand on the shaven pate of Ramses, who had sat down on the floor beside his chair. 'The stonecutters have already started to work on the great pylon which will honour you and your noble parents, my young friend.'

'Thank you,' said Ramses. 'What about my notebooks?'

'Ramses!' I exclaimed. 'Is that any way to talk to His Majesty?'

'The servants have brought them,' said Tarek, laughing. 'And also the things you left in your rooms.' He reached into the pouch at his belt and took out a book, which he handed me. 'I return this in person, Lady, since it was I who stole it from you.'

I glanced at the title, smiled, and handed it back. 'It is yours, Tarek. I can easily get another copy. Mr Haggard's books are very popular in England.'

Tarek's face lit up; for the first time he looked as young as he really was. 'It is mine to keep? A great gift, a noble gift. It will be one of the treasures of my house.'

'Oh, good Gad,' growled Emerson. 'Amelia, if you have finished corrupting the literary tastes of a royal house, I would like to ask a few sensible questions.'

'Ask,' said Tarek, tucking the copy of King Solomon's Mines carefully into his pouch.

'We know now why you were so anxious to bring us here, and some of the tricks you used,' Emerson began. 'But why the devil did you go through such intricate manoeuvres instead of simply telling us the truth from the start?'

Tarek's face hardened. 'Would you have believed me?'

'Certainly!' Emerson caught my eye and had the grace to blush. 'Well - perhaps not immediately. But you could have convinced us, given time - '

"Time was what I did not have,' said Tarek gravely. 'Nor did I have the knowledge of you and the lady I have now. By the time I had travelled to Cairo and then to England, I had learned how those of your colour treat those of mine.'

I would have denied it, but I could not. Shame, for my nation and my race, brought the colour flaming to my cheeks. Emerson bit his lip. 'You are right,' he said. 'What can I say?'

'You need say nothing. There is no hatred in your heart or that of the lady - but there are few like you.'

Tarek went on to explain that by the time he reached England he was sadly embittered by the contempt with which he had been treated - he, who was a prince in his own land. Nevertheless he persisted, overcoming the obstacles he met with rare courage and intelligence, until he found himself unable to deliver Forth's letter. The servants drove him from the door, and the police threatened him with arrest if he returned to that aristocratic neighbourhood.

'I did not know what to do,' Tarek said simply. 'I crept back by night and left the packet on the doorstep, but for all I knew it might have been ignored or thrown away. I had seen the young one with the fiery hair come and go from the house; I learned he was the son of Forth's brother, but I was afraid to speak to him there, for the soldiers in blue [the police] had threatened me with their dungeon. I followed him instead, to your house, though I did not know it was yours until I asked a man passing by. Forth had told me of you, and I thought, That is why the young one has come here. The old one showed him the message and he seeks the help of Emerson. So I waited, hiding in the darkness, and saw the old one come, and knew I had been right.'

'All the more reason for you to approach us directly,' said Emerson. 'You would not have been driven from our door.' 'I know that now,' said Tarek. 'I did not know it then. And you have not heard the rest.' He hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words. 'I had not come alone to England.

Two came with me. One you know - Akinidad, who was with you for a time in Nubia, and who carried my orders back to my scouts at the oasis. The other. The other was my brother Tabirka, the son of my father by his favourite concubine. He was closest to my heart of all my brothers.

'He was at my side that night. When the carriage of the old one left, I tried to stop it, but the coachman struck at me with his whip and would have run me down. For many hours we stood by the gate, my brother and I, discussing what to do. There was no one about; the rain had stopped and the lights in your house burned late. "Go to them," my brother urged. "The men of Egypt say that Emerson is great and good, not like the other Inglizi. He was the friend of our father Forth. He will listen. We do not know what lies the others may have told him."'

'At last he won me over. The lights still burned in your house. But when we approached the gate, there was a sharp cracking sound. My brother cried out and clapped his hand to his arm. It was only a small hurt, but as we ran away - for I had no weapon and I knew the sound of the bullets that can strike from afar -there were more shots, and my brother would have fallen had I not caught him up and carried him away. I laid him upon the ground while I went to get the cart and horse we had hired. When I came back he was... I heard your voices, calling, but I could not leave him like a dead animal, without the rites of burial. I took him away; and later I stole a spade from a farmhouse and buried him deep in the woods, near a great standing stone. When you return...'

'Yes, of course,' I said gently. 'I know the place. No wonder you did not trust us! You must have thought we fired those shots.'

"I saw no one else. Later, after I had followed you to Egypt I spoke with many men, learning of your plans, and learning as well that men had naught but praise for the Father of Curses and his Lady. I sent Akinidad ahead, to bring another of my men from the scouts, directing them to meet me at Gebel Barkal. There, at last, we spoke face-to-face, the three of you and I, and I learned to love and honour you.' He covered his eyes with his hand, briefly, then rose. 'But come; the hour is upon us. My heart is sore to lose you, and parting prolonged is made more painful.'

'Nefret,' I began.

'She will meet us there. Hasten.'

Accompanied by several soldiers, we hurried along through endless winding corridors until we reached a door, barred and blocked and heavily guarded. As we approached, the men grounded their spears, dropped to their knees and bent forwards till their foreheads touched the ground. From one averted face came a muffled voice that said, 'We are your men, Father of Curses. We will follow you through life unto death.'

'I say, Peabody,' Emerson exclaimed in high delight. 'It's Harsetef and his chaps; they came through alive after all. Splendid, splendid!'