The Golden One

by Elizabeth Peters

  “Yes.” Rubbing sleepy eyes, she took a seat on the divan next to Ramses. “What has happened? Has my father -”

  “Nothing has happened. You are perfectly safe. Are you hungry? There must be something left on that tray. Excuse me. I won’t be long.”

  Ramses accompanied me. I had expected he or his father would do so, and on the whole I preferred Ramses to Emerson. His questions were not likely to be so provocative.

  “I thought I’d better come along in case Mustafa’s sore is located in a place Father would prefer you didn’t examine,” he explained.

  “That is highly unlikely.”

  “I was joking, Mother.”

  “I know, my dear.”

  The skies were still overcast but the rain had stopped. It dripped in mournful cadence from the eaves of the arcades around the courtyard. I allowed Ramses to take my arm.

  “I am of the opinion that you are right about Sethos’s intentions,” I said. “It was clever of you to reason it out.”

  “Too clever, perhaps? I’d hate to think my mind works along the same lines as his.”

  “Whatever his original intentions, they have almost certainly had the effect you described. Goodness, but this is a dreary place. There doesn’t seem to be a soul about. Mustafa?”

  “He’s probably with the horses,” Ramses said.

  Mustafa heard our voices and emerged from the shed. “I was talking to the horses,” he said. “They are fine animals. Is there something you lack, Sitt Hakim?”

  “Not at the moment. I want to talk to you, Mustafa. And treat your sore… Where is it?”

  Mustafa sat down on a bench and held out his foot. It was bare and callused and very dirty.

  “You will have to wash it first,” I said.

  “Wash?” Mustafa repeated in astonishment.

  Ramses, who appeared to be enjoying himself very much, fetched a bucket of water and we persuaded Mustafa to put his foot into it. I had brought a bar of Pear’s soap with me, since I knew that commodity is not common in houses of the region. After a vigorous scrubbing the sore was apparent – an infected big toe, which he must have stubbed and then neglected. The alcohol made Mustafa’s eyes pop.

  “I am going to bandage your foot,” I said, applying gauze and sticking plaster liberally. “But you must keep it clean. Change the bandage every day and wash it.”

  “Is that all?” Mustafa asked.

  “That should -”

  Ramses coughed loudly. “Will you say the proper words, Mother, or shall I?”

  “Incantations are more in your line than mine,” I replied in English. “Proceed.”

  Once that essential part of the treatment was completed, Mustafa was satisfied, and I got down to business.

  “Did Sir Edward tell you where he was going?”

  “No.” Mustafa held up his foot and studied the bandage. “He took the mule.”

  “You have a mule?”

  “Two. He took one.”

  “Did he say when he would be back?”

  “No.” Mustafa cogitated, his brow furrowing. “He said… what was it? Something about whiskey. That he would bring it to the Father of Curses.”

  “He’s gone to Khan Yunus,” Ramses said, as we left Mustafa admiring his bandaged foot.

  “Not to Gaza?”

  “Father is right, he wouldn’t be such a fool. Not unless he had proof that Sethos was still there.” He took hold of my arm and stopped me. “I don’t believe we want to discuss Sahin Pasha in front of the girl, do we?”

  “It would be wiser not to, I believe. The feelings of young persons are notoriously changeable. She is angry with him now, but if she believed he was in danger -”

  “Yes, Mother, that is precisely what I had in mind.”

  When we returned to the saloon Nefret looked up from the paper on which she was drawing. “Esin wanted to know about the latest fashions,” she explained. “How is Mustafa’s sore… whatever?”

  “His toe,” I replied. “A slight infection. Where is Emerson?”

  “He said he was going to sit with Sethos.” She chuckled. “I think he’s looking for tobacco. He’s run out.”

  Emerson did not find any tobacco. He came back looking even more perturbed than deprivation of that unhealthy substance could explain.

  “Is he still sleeping?” I asked.

  “Yes. He – er – doesn’t look well.”

  “He isn’t well.”

  “Is someone sick?” Esin asked.

  I realized she was unaware of the latest arrival. “A – er – friend of ours. You know him as Ismail Pasha.”

  “He is here?” She jumped up and clapped her hands to her cheeks. “Why? Did my father send him? Has he come to take me back?”

  “Goodness, but you have a one-track mind,” I said. “He is a fugitive too. Your father became suspicious of him and he ran away.”

  “Oh.” She thought it over and her face brightened. “Then I must thank him. He risked himself for me!”

  “He is, after all, a gallant Englishman,” Ramses drawled. “Much braver and more chivalrous than I.”

  “But you are younger and more beautiful,” said Esin.

  That took care of Ramses. He said no more.

  The rest of us kept up a desultory conversation and the minutes dragged slowly by. There was much we could not say in Esin’s presence, and I couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse for getting rid of her. Sending her off to bed wouldn’t work; she had slept most of the day.

  Except for Selim, the rest of us had not. I persuaded Nefret to lie down and took Esin off into a corner so our voices would not disturb her. We found a common interest in women’s rights, and I told her all about the suffrage movement and how I had marched with the suffragists and been seized by a large constable. She declared that she would have done the same, and kicked the constable as well.

  Emerson sat in brooding silence, smoking Ramses’s cigarettes and slipping out of the room periodically to look in on his brother. Ramses brooded too, over Nefret, sitting quietly beside her with his eyes fixed on her face. After a while I took Esin with me to the kitchen and showed her how to make tea. It was the first time she had ever performed such a menial chore, I believe. She was certainly clumsy enough. However, we got the tray upstairs without disaster.

  Late in the afternoon the sun made its appearance, and shortly afterward Sethos made his. He was in a vile mood, which I had expected, and he had shaved his beard, which I had not expected. The strange gray-green eyes swept the room in a contemptuous and comprehensive survey. “Everybody here?” he inquired in his most offensive tone. “How nice.”

  I knew what concerned him most and I hastened to give him the news that would relieve his mind. “We believe Sir Edward has not gone to Gaza but to Khan Yunus.”

  “Oh?” He rubbed his chin. “Let us hope you are right.”

  “I am certain of it,” I said. “Tea?”

  “No.” He flung himself down on the divan.

  “You had better have some. Take it to him, Esin.” I handed her the cup. “Lemon, no sugar, isn’t that right?”

  His eyes met mine and his tight mouth turned up at this reminder of the last time we had taken tea together. Unfortunately it reminded Emerson too. He knew what had happened at that meeting, for of course I had confided fully in him. However, he confined his comments to a wordless grumble.

  “Are you really Ismail Pasha?” the girl asked doubtfully. She stood beside him, the cup held carefully in both hands.

  Sethos rose and took it from her. A smile transformed his haggard face, and the cultivated charm slipped onto him like a cloak. “Is it the absence of the beard that confused you? I am indeed the same man, and I am relieved to find you well and safe. My friends have looked after you?”

  The charm was a little tattered, but it was good enough for Esin. “Oh, yes, but I was frightened for a while; there was fighting and we had to run away.”

  “Tell me about it,” Sethos murmured.


  Her account was accurate, on the whole, though she made a thrilling tale of it. Sethos listened attentively, his mobile countenance expressing admiration, astonishment, and distress at appropriate intervals, but I could tell she had not his complete attention. He was listening and waiting – as were we all.

  The sunlight deepened to amber and then faded into gray, and there was still no sign of Sir Edward. Ramses lighted the lamps. I was about to suggest we do something about supper when the long-awaited sound of footsteps was heard and Sir Edward came into the room. In that first moment he had eyes only for his chief. Had I doubted the warmth of their friendship, the looks of relief on both faces would have proved it. Being English, they did not express their feelings.

  “It’s good to see you, sir,” Sir Edward said coolly. “Mustafa told me you were here.”

  “You ought to have been here” was the equally cool reply. “Sit down and have a cup of tea.”

  “It’s cold,” I said, inspecting the sad dregs.

  “I’ll take it anyhow.” Sir Edward dropped heavily onto the divan next to Emerson. “Sorry, Professor, I wasn’t able to get your whiskey. The house -”

  “Then we will have to settle for claret,” said Sethos, going to the wine cabinet. “My supplies have become somewhat depleted. Amelia?”

  “Yes,” I said, answering both the spoken question and the unspoken order. “Esin, I suggest you – er – go to your room and rest.”

  “I don’t need to rest,” said the young person. “I am not tired.”

  “Then help Selim find us something to eat.”

  I gave Selim a wink and a nod. As a rule this was all Selim needed, but this time I had to give him a little poke, for he was not looking at me. His intent black eyes were fixed on Sethos.

  “Your pardon, Sitt Hakim,” he said, starting.

  I repeated the suggestion. He nodded obediently, and got Esin to go with him by requesting the details of her daring escape from her father’s house. “Such courage,” I heard him say, as they left the room. “Such cleverness!”

  Sethos turned from the cabinet, the bottle in one hand and the corkscrew in the other. “Report,” he said curtly.

  “The town’s quiet,” Sir Edward said. “Less damage than I had expected. The house is guarded by several soldiers and they’re scouring the countryside looking for you people. According to the worthy citizens of Khan Yunus, you simply vanished into thin air, like the djinn you are reputed to be. The military hasn’t accepted that, though.” He took the glass Sethos handed him and went on, “They haven’t made up their minds whether you were abducted by force or went off on your own, for purposes of your own. Either way, they want you.”

  Ramses took the bottle from Sethos, who had neglected the rest of us in his concern for his aide, and poured wine for Nefret and me.

  “What about Gaza?” Sethos asked.

  “The place is shut up tighter than a prison.” Sir Edward sipped his wine appreciatively. “I made contact with one of our lads – Hassan. He’d just got back from an attempt to enter the city by his usual route, but what he saw made him veer off. They’re stopping everyone.”

  “Shutting the barn door after the horse is stolen,” I said with a smile.

  “Ha,” said Emerson, motioning Ramses to fill his glass. “Any news of Sahin Pasha?”

  Sir Edward shook his head, and Sethos said, “It will take them a while to decide how to deal with him. The most sensible course of action would be to execute him and announce he’d been assassinated by the vile British.”

  “That was your plan, then,” I said. “To make him appear guilty of treason.”

  “I didn’t have a plan when I started out,” Sethos said snappishly. “My orders were to remove him – pleasant little euphemism, isn’t it? One learns to take advantage of unexpected events. We were damned lucky. All of us.”

  “It took more than luck,” Ramses said grudgingly. His uncle gave him a mocking bow.

  “Selim can’t keep the girl away for long,” I said. “And I certainly don’t want her to know her father may be under arrest and facing death. We must decide what we are going to do with her.”

  “Quite right, Amelia,” said my brother-in-law. “You’ll have to take her back to Cairo, and the sooner, the better. The sooner you are all back in Cairo, the better.”

  “What about you?” I asked. “And Sir Edward?”

  “Don’t concern yourself about us. As soon as it’s light I want you all to return to Khan Yunus. That will stop them searching the whole damned neighborhood and finding this place, which wouldn’t be convenient for me. Make your preparations to leave Khan Yunus and get the hell away. You’ll have to come up with some story to explain the girl. The military mustn’t know who she is, or take her from you.”

  “As if I would leave a girl of eighteen with a troop of soldiers,” I said with a sniff. “What do we do with her when we reach Cairo?”

  “Take her to an address I will give you.” He glanced at Ramses. “Memorize it; don’t write it down.”

  “That’s it, then,” said Emerson, hearing Selim and Esin returning. “You have nothing more to tell us?”

  Sethos made sure we had no chance to ask for more. After a scratch meal he went off with Sir Edward, instructing us to get our gear together and be ready for an early departure. We did not see him again until morning.

  It was still dark when we gathered in the courtyard, with only the light of our torches to guide our steps. The horses were waiting.

  “Good-bye,” said Sethos. “A safe journey.”

  He shook Emerson’s hand and mine. “When will we see you again?” I asked.

  “When you least expect me, Amelia dear. That’s my trademark.” He smiled at me. “You’ll hear from me soon, I promise. Good-bye, Nefret. Try and keep Ramses out of mischief.”

  “I always do.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. “Take care of yourself. Sir Edward, try and keep him out of mischief.”

  “Don’t I get a kiss?” that gentleman inquired.

  She laughed at him, and gave him her hand. “Good luck. And thank you.”

  We reached Khan Yunus by midmorning and went at once to the house, followed by a throng of idlers. The gate was closed, and there were two soldiers guarding it. They snapped to attention, rifles raised, when they saw us, and then one of them exclaimed, “It’s them!”

  “Grammar, young man,” I said. “It is indeed we. Let us pass, if you please.”

  Selim went at once to his beloved motorcar. “They have stolen two of the tires!” he cried in anguished tones.

  “That’s easily remedied,” said Emerson, helping me to dismount. “Come along, Selim, you can play with the motorcar later.”

  A quick inspection assured us that the house was deserted and that a good many items were missing, including the best part of “the favorite’s” elegant wardrobe. “Can’t be helped,” said Emerson. “Lucky we had everything we needed with us. Let us go to the mak’ad. I expect we will be receiving a visit soon.”

  “Yes, our arrival will have been reported,” I agreed. “Esin, I want you to stay here in the harem.”

  “Why?” she demanded.

  “You are an enemy alien,” Nefret said. “If the soldiers find out you are here, they will take you away.”

  I hadn’t intended to be quite so blunt about it, but the warning had the desired effect. Esin’s rounded cheeks paled.

  “We won’t let them take you,” Ramses said quickly. “Just stay out of sight and keep quiet.”

  “I would very much like a bath,” I said. “But that will have to wait until we round up a few of the servants. In the meantime, what about a nice hot cup of tea?”

  The inefficiency of the military was disappointing. It took them an hour to react to the news that we had returned. The open arches of the mak’ad constituted an excellent observation post; we were sipping a second cup of tea when he burst into the courtyard, kicked an unfortunate chicken out of his path, and came to a
stop, staring. Emerson leaned over the rail and called to him.

  “Up here, Cartright. Join us.”

  “We ought to have expected it would be he,” I remarked. “He appears to be in quite an unhappy frame of mind.”

  Cartright took the stairs two at a time. His face was flushed and his mustache looked as if he had been chewing on it.

  “You’re here,” he gasped. “All of you.”

  “Obviously,” I replied. “Nefret, is there more hot water? I believe Major Cartright could do with a cup of tea. Do sit down, Major.”

  The young man collapsed onto a chair and passed a handkerchief over his face. “Where have you been? We’ve been searching for days.”

  “Not that long, surely,” I said. “Drink your tea. We have decided to take advantage of your kind offer to facilitate our return to Cairo. We will need petrol, water, food, and two new tires. Is there anything else, Emerson?”

  Leaning against the wall, arms folded and lips twitching, Emerson shook his head. “Not that I know of. Continue, Peabody, you seem to have the situation well in hand.”

  “We would like to leave tomorrow morning,” I explained. “You seem to have frightened our servants away. Persuade – persuade, I said – them to return. We have clothing to be washed and meals to be prepared.”

  “Mrs. Emerson… please.” Cartright waved away the cup I had offered. “Just stop talking, will you? Professor, I want to know where the devil -”

  “Language, language,” said Emerson. “There are ladies present. As for answering your questions, sir, I am not subject to your orders.”

  “General Chetwode -”

  “Nor his. I will report to whom I see fit and when I see fit. In Cairo, to be precise. Are you going to get us the supplies we need or must I go over your head?”

  “I… yes. That is, I will get them. And go with you.”

  “There won’t be room in the motorcar,” said Emerson with finality. “Oh – I almost forgot. The horses. Fine animals. They are in the stable.”

  Cartright sat bolt upright. “Then it was you who… One of the troopers swore there was a woman in the party, but -”