Guardian of the Horizon by Elizabeth Peters Read Free Book Online

not passed muster hung over various articles of furniture. The bed, the chairs, and the desk were covered with books and papers. Two kittens were chasing each other up and down the draperies. "Oh--sorry," said Ramses, observing my intent. He scooped up the papers from a chair and dumped them on the heaped desk, from which they immediately fell to the floor. "Sit down, Mother. Well?" "You share my reservations, I know. Let us address them in order." I took a piece of folded paper from my pocket, and Ramses's grave face relaxed into a smile. "One of your famous lists?" "Certainly." I unfolded the paper and cleared my throat. "Do you remember Merasen--from our first visit to the Holy Mountain, I mean?" The question obviously did not take Ramses by surprise. "No. But he was only a child, the son of a lesser wife of the king, and we didn't meet all the members of the royal family. Thanks to the jolly old custom of polygamy, it was extensive." "True. The factors your father mentioned the other evening make it probable, if not absolutely certain, that he does come fromthe Holy Mountain. The next question is--how did he find his way across the desert without a map?" "He answered that. You remember the oasis that is seven days' journey from the Holy Mountain--the only water along that arid trek? Tarek keeps a garrison there, to watch out for strangers. Once Merasen and his companions had got that far, they had only to head east, toward the rising sun. They were bound to strike the Nile sooner or later. It would have been hard to miss it." "And he counted on us to guide him back," I mused. "A rather dangerous assumption, that one. Tarek knew we had a copy of the map, but we might have lost or destroyed it." "It would have been worth taking the chance, if Tarek was desperate enough." Ramses began pacing, his hands clasped behind his back. "The confounded boy's story makes sense, as far as it goes. Anyhow, we haven't any choice but to respond. The question is how to go about it in the safest possible way. The fewer people who know of our plans, the better. That includes David." "You would prefer he did not accompany us?" Ramses leaned against the desk and ran his fingers through his hair. It was one of the few signs of perturbation he permitted himself. One infatuated young female had gushed about the "Byronic look" of those tousled black curls; in my opinion, they were simply untidy. I reached up and brushed them back from his forehead. Ramses shook his head impatiently, as if dislodging a fly, and went on. "I would prefer that no one go except Father and me. You needn't protest, Mother, I am well aware you would never consent to be left behind. Neither would Nefret. But David, so far, knows nothing about this. He'd come, of course, without an instant's hesitation, but he's very much in love and newly engaged; and if Lia knew what he was walking into, she'd be beside herself. God knows our normal excavation seasons are wild enough, but at least we don't go looking for trouble. Well . . . usually we don't." "You needn't go over the arguments," I said with a sigh. "I have considered them myself--plus the fact that David could not contribute anything to the expedition except his stout heart and strong hands. Does he know about the Lost Oasis?" "Not from me. Uncle Walter and Aunt Evelyn know." "That was unavoidable," I said defensively. "Your uncle Walter is a philologist; once he heard Nefret speak in the language of the Holy Mountain he recognized its relationship to ancient Egyptian, and Evelyn's suspicions were aroused by some of Nefret's--er-- unusual habits. It seemed safest to tell them the whole story and ask them to take an oath of secrecy, which to the best of my knowledge they have never broken. How do you propose to prevent David from coming out with us, as he has always done?" "Did you know that Constable, the publisher, approached him in London about doing a series of paintings for a popular book about Egypt?" "Really? He never