The Most Loved of All

by Tinnean

  Tommy went from one guest to another, greeting them in turn and asking what they would like to drink. I would have helped him, but an uneasy feeling crept up my spine, and I wanted nothing more than to keep my distance from the Egyptian gentleman. Although for the life of me, I couldn’t imagine why.

  “Lady Fortescue-Smythe, thank you for extending your invitation to us,” Lord Carnarvon said. “I know our arrival at Thorny Walk was highly unexpected.”

  “How do you know Mr. Runihura, my lord?” she asked, setting the conversational ball rolling.

  “Oh, we had met Mr Runihura in Egypt.” He turned to me. “It was sometime after you’d left, Mr Sayer.”

  I nodded and smiled and wished he hadn’t brought attention to me.

  “We also stopped to see how young Cramdon was coming along.”

  “How is he, sir?”

  “Not well, I’m afraid. Hs’s back in England also, and that aunt of his has hopes a stay in a sanatorium might help but…” He shook his head. “It remains to be seen, I’m afraid.” He turned to Lady Eugenia. “I apologise. There’s nothing more tedious than hearing about someone unknown to one.”

  “Not at all, Lord Carnarvon,” she responded politely.

  “At any rate, we were speaking about how Carter and I met Mr Runihura. He’s in charge of the Bureau of Egyptian Antiquities in Cairo and he agreed to take on the cataloguing that needed to be done for all the many wonderful things we found in Tutankhamun’s tomb. He told us he’d be travelling to England on state business and was so kind as to invite us to visit him if we returned to England while he was here. It was sheer luck we ran into him again in Southampton.”

  He really thought it was luck? I couldn’t help shivering.

  “All those rumours of the curse plaguing King Tut’s tomb have led to us being hounded by the press, the blighters! Sorry, ladies. The rumours are all nonsense, of course. At any rate, Mr. Runihura has his own men keeping them off his grounds, so we shall be undisturbed for the length of our stay.”

  I stared at the dark-haired, dark-eyed man in the unassuming black suit, the uneasy sensation that I knew him from somewhere hitting me deep in my gut. His eyes met mine, and I was both aroused and terrified by his lazy perusal. He left his companions and crossed the room to join me. He frowned and raised his hand almost as if to stroke the mark Tommy had put on my throat, but of course there was no way for him to know of it. Nevertheless, I stepped away from him.

  He dropped his hand, and his frown darkened, but then it vanished and he smiled. “Young sir, I bid you As-Salam’Alayk.”

  I knew enough Arabic to understand his wishes. “Peace be with you.” Before I could respond, Tommy placed himself between us. “As-Sam’Alayk,” he snarled, using a play on words—death be with you.

  The Egyptian’s nostrils flared with anger, and I was tempted to remain hiding behind Tommy. Instead, I forced myself to step in front of him. “You will not harm this one, Lord,” I said.

  He struggled to bring his temper under control, then nodded as if in accord. But I heard his softly worded vow. “Will I not, indeed!”

  I could see Lady Genie was aware something had occurred between her guest of honour and her son. She didn’t seem certain if she should move to interrupt or let her son deal with it, but then her butler entered, accompanied by Dr Cliffe.

  “Forgive my lateness. Alfred Gwyn was involved in a hunting accident.”

  It was clear to me that everyone—including myself—was intrigued and wanted to know more, but they were reluctant to ask.

  “I may as well inform you now, since it will be all over the county by tomorrow thanks to Paul Vaughan’s idiotic assistant, Bailey.”

  “Major Vaughan? He’s detective chief inspector,” Tommy told me. He lowered his voice. “It was…fatal?”

  “I’m afraid so. It’s hardly the thing to discuss in the presence of ladies.”

  That whetted our curiosity all the more, but Foster stepped closer to Lady Genie and whispered in her ear.

  She gave a sigh of relief. “Dinner, ladies, gentlemen. Lord Carnarvon, if you will escort me in?”

  The gentlemen took the ladies’ arms until all who were left were the Egyptian, Miss Straughan, and me. I was about to join Tommy in escorting the vicar’s daughter in to dinner. However, instead of taking Miss Straughan’s arm, Runihura reached for me. I felt like a snared rabbit, unable to flee.

  Tommy came to my rescue, although I doubted he had any idea.

  “Our customs must be different from yours, Mr Runihura. It would be most gracious of you to escort Miss Straughan.”

  For a second, the Egyptian looked furious, but then his expression smoothed, and he smiled and bowed. “As you say, your customs are different from mine. I beg your pardon. Miss Straughan?”

  “Come along, Roddy.” Tommy returned to the vicar’s daughter and waited for me. I stood there a moment longer, shaking. What was wrong with me? Why was I so fearful?

  I shook myself out of my malaise, joined Tommy and Miss Sherwood, and together we led her into the dining room.

  We waited for the ladies to sit, then sat ourselves. Tommy took the seat at the foot of the table, opposite his mother. I would have preferred to sit beside him and have the length of the table between the Egyptian and me, but I was placed at Lady Genie’s right hand, and Mr Runihura sat opposite me, on her left.

  We started with the soup course, and as I raised my spoon to my mouth, I nearly choked. A foot was insinuating its way under my trouser leg, caressing my calf. My head jerked up and I stared at the man across the table from me. His lip curled in satisfaction, and he sipped delicately at the consommé as if nothing was amiss.

  I desperately tried to find a spot where he could not reach me. Lady Genie frowned as I jostled her leg, and Mrs Atkinson had her toe trod upon more than once. I flushed bright red and ducked my head, edging my chair backward, studiously finishing my soup.

  “I say, Mr Sayer, you’re looking much better than when last I saw you,” Mr Carter observed.

  “Thank you, sir. It’s the English air.”

  “Quite. I can’t thank you enough for sending us the wire about that string of black pearls,” he said. “I can understand your concern that Charlie Pearson be thought to have stolen it. However, I can assure you that, having known him for so many years, such a notion would never have crossed my mind.”

  “Thank you,” I said again. “I was concerned. I wouldn’t want his memory besmirched.”

  “Black pearls! Oooo, that sounds like something out of King Solomon’s Mines!” Miss Atkinson, who sat on the Egyptian’s left, simpered. “I should love to see such unusual stones. Wouldn’t you, Mama? We both have a weakness for pearls,” she confided, actually batting her lashes at me, while beside me her mother murmured her assent.

  I expected her father to chide her for her boldness, but he leaned forward avidly, and I was left with no choice but to say, “You will have to ask Lord Runihura for permission to view them, Miss. They belong to Egypt.” I did not want to have those pearls on my person when Ammon Runihura was nearby.

  He scowled at me, then turned a charming smile on the young lady. “I regret that until the authenticity of the pearls has been established, they may not be exhibited. So sorry.”

  “Well, possibly you’d be so kind as to persuade your government to allow some of the items to be displayed at a private viewing, at Thorny Walk House, perhaps?” Mrs Atkinson pressed.

  “Perhaps, Madame. I cannot promise.” He looked across the table at me. “And when will you be returning to Africa, young sir?”

  “I have no plans to go home for some time, Lord.” I could feel Tommy watching me. Although at the far end of the table, he had been following the conversation with interest.

  “Ah. But you do intend to go back to Egypt at some point, do you not? Perhaps you will let me have the pleasure of your company when you do. I would be more than happy to rearrange my schedule.” His dark eyes were hooded.

 
; “Return? With you, Lord?”

  “Yesssss!” His voice was like that of an aspis, an Egyptian cobra, about to strike.

  “Roddy’s home is here,” Tommy interrupted abruptly. “He will be going nowhere.”

  Ammon Runihura smiled tightly at my lover, but when his eyes swept back to mine, they somehow seemed to promise retribution. A tremor shook my hand as I raised my glass to take a sip of wine, and his smile broadened in seeming satisfaction.

  Fortunately, just then the older Straughan daughter asked if the gentlemen staying at Thorny Walk would be offering any entertainments, and the conversation drifted to less disturbing topics.

  Dinner finally wound to an end, although my stomach had been so tied in knots I’d hardly eaten anything, and at a nod from Lady Eugenia the ladies left the men to their cigars—or in Dr Cliffe’s case, his pipe—and port.

  “Could I impose upon you to retrieve the pearls now, young sir?”

  “I thought you did not want them on display, Lord.” My will battled his, although I was certain I would prove to be the loser.

  “Ah, but we are all men of the world here, and the tale behind the pearls, even if they shouldn’t prove genuine, would be most entertaining.”

  “Yes, do please get the thing, would you, young Sayer?” Howard Carter asked.

  I set my napkin neatly on my chair and hurried up to the room I shared with Tommy. I didn’t realise he was right behind me until he slammed the bedroom door shut.

  “What in heaven’s name was that all about, Roddy?”

  “What do you mean, sir?” Distracted, I pulled my carpetbag from a corner cupboard.

  “Don’t you what do you mean, sir me. You were fidgeting so much I thought you were going to fall off your chair. And if you stepped on Mrs Atkinson’s foot one more time she would have tipped her dinner plate onto your lap.”

  I rubbed my temples with the tips of my fingers. “I don’t know what’s wrong, Tommy. That man…unsettles me.”

  “Why do you keep calling him ‘lord’? Everyone else addresses him as plain Mister.”

  I shrugged. “It seems as if that’s how I should address him.” I dug into a side pocket in the carpetbag and pulled out the pearls. Tommy whistled through his teeth.

  “Oh, I say!” This was the first time he had ever seen them, and I observed them through his eye: A dozen, perfectly round, perfectly black, without a single blemish. Each the size of the first joint of a man’s thumb. “They’re beautiful.”

  “They’re deadly.” Smooth and cool to the touch, they rapidly warmed in my palm, imparting a sensual feel to them. And they frightened me more than I could say.

  “What?”

  I shook my head. “Don’t mind me. I’m at odds with myself tonight.” I coiled the rope in my hand and went back downstairs to the dining room, Tommy hard on my heels.

  Heads spun to watch with interest as I crossed the rug. I held out my closed hand, then turned it over, opened it, and let the pearls dangle from my fingers. There was a concerted gasp.

  “Ah. Yes.” Ammon Runihura’s eyes gleamed malevolently. “If these are not the real thing, then they are an excellent reproduction. No, young sir, you hold onto this precious artefact, while I tell the tale of it.”

  I didn’t want those opaque jewels in my possession, but it seemed I had no choice. I retreated to the far end of the room, and Ammon Runihura grinned to see me try to distance myself from him once again.

  “In the time of King Tutankhamun, so the legend has it,” he began, “a very powerful high priest commissioned a little known jeweller to devise a masterpiece of erotic domination for him.”

  “Erotic domination, you say? You’re going to tell us a smutty story?” The vicar rose to his feet. “This hardly seems a tale for a man of the cloth. If you’ll excuse me, Captain Smythe? Gentlemen?” He gave a curt bow and stalked out of the room.

  I wished I could follow him.

  The Egyptian curled his lip. “Does anyone else wish to leave?” When no one showed signs of following the vicar, he continued. “Why such an eminent man would go to this jeweller and not to the Pharaoh’s own craftsman, you ask? Well, the jeweller selected to create the rope of pearls was a sorcerer. And the gems had a spell woven into them.”

  “A sorcerer? A spell? Oh I say, I had no idea this was going to be a kiddie story,” Mr Atkinson huffed arrogantly and placed his cigar between his lips.

  Ammon Runihura gave him a mocking smile and said blandly, “You will find this is not a story suitable for children, my dear sir. Now, if I may proceed?” He took a sip of his port. “The high priest had his eye on one of his young priests, and had in mind to give him the pearls…”

  I found it hard to breathe. The room seemed to be pressing down on me, and the pearls in my hand grew warmer. I tried to drop the rope, but my fingers had closed tight around them, and refused to open.

  The Egyptian’s sonorous voice seemed to suck me into the tale, and it was as if I stood watching from the outside…

  * * * *

  Prince Teremun had been dedicated to the dark god Anubis from the day of his birth. It hadn’t been required that he remain virgin, but it was his choice. When Khentemsemet had arrived at the Pharaoh’s city to take up duties as high priest, he’d desired the prince, and had grown irritated when the prince would not fall in with his plans.

  So Khentemsemet had altered those plans. He’d gone to see his old friend Amenhotep, a sorcerer who had his own quarrel with the royal family. The old pharaoh, who’d decided to forswear the gods of Egypt for a single god, had driven Amenhotep out of Egypt. The sorcerer had been more than willing to bring about the debasement of anyone that was of Akhenaten’s getting.

  When the pearls were ready, Khentemsemet travelled to the sorcerer’s home to obtain them, and then slew the sorcerer. No one need be aware of what the high priest intended to do.

  At the temple of Anubis once again, Khentemsemet bathed and anointed his body with an ointment the sorcerer had created for him years before, when Khentemsemet had first decided that while becoming pharaoh might be out of his grasp, becoming the power behind the throne could well be within reach. Wearing that ointment had gotten him an audience with a priest of the temple at Aswan, and that audience led to his acceptance into the priesthood itself. Eventually he’d attained the position of high priest. Now, when he wore that ointment, it would enthral the young prince’s senses, and all Teremun would see was a man he desired passionately and above all others.

  And it all worked according to plan. Khentemsemet took the young prince’s shaft in his mouth and gave him pleasure such as he’d never dreamed of. And while Teremun was insensate, Khentemsemet inserted the pearls into the young prince’s back passage.

  When Teremun regained his senses, Khentemsemet had suggested he return the favour by sucking the high priest’s shaft. The prince had leapt to agree, had taken the prick between his luscious lips, and had suckled the high priest’s organ voraciously.

  And just before Khentemsemet was about to explode, he withdrew the pearls from Teremun’s body, completing his ownership of the prince. The prince didn’t struggle against Khentemsemet’s domination, instead Teremun thanked him.

  “You did well, little prince. We’ll do this again, and the next time…”

  “Yes?” His tone was languid and sensual.

  “I’ll bugger you until you can’t walk.” He waited to see how the prince would respond to such a crude pledge.

  “Is that a promise, my lord?”

  This was even better than he’d originally intended. For a second he regretted killing the sorcerer—these pearls could only be used the one time, which the sorcerer had neglected to inform the high priest until he lay dying—but then Khentemsemet shrugged it aside. He was nothing if not pragmatic.

  “I must leave now. I have tasks that await me, unlike a certain prince I could name.”

  Teremun chuckled drowsily, little knowing he now belonged to the high priest body and soul. Khentems
emet walked out. Once his plan succeeded—once he’d seen the prince’s twin brother dead and the prince placed on the throne in his stead—

  Perhaps he’d keep Teremun as his…

  * * * *

  I blinked, slowly regaining my senses, and found myself lying on my back on the rug. I recalled what I had witnessed between the prince and the high priest, and I felt ill.

  That hadn’t been making love. It had been subjugation, plain and simple. When the young prince awoke, he would do whatever Khentemsemet wished. He would in fact belong to the high priest body and soul.

  And I knew, although I was certain the little prince didn’t, that those wishes would include betraying his brother, the pharaoh.

  Poor, poor little prince…

  “Roddy! Roddy! What’s wrong?” Tommy was lightly tapping my cheek.

  “I belong to him,” I murmured, so softly only Tommy and the Egyptian, who were crouched beside me, could hear me.

  “I fear the tale was a bit much for the young sir,” Runihura said in a voice equally as soft. That loathsome, gloating voice.

  “Here, let me help you up.” Tommy slid his arm around my waist and helped me to my feet. I could see Runihura wasn’t pleased when I stayed close beside my friend, but he could go bugger himself.

  Foster entered the dining room. “Excuse me, Captain. Mr Runihura’s servant is here. He’s required back at Thorny Walk House post haste.”

  “Ah. I’ve been awaiting a telegram, and I fear I must leave. No, no, Lord Carnarvon, Mr Carter. I insist you stay. I wouldn’t want to interfere with such an enjoyable evening. Tell T-Mr Sayer when he is feeling more the thing he may return the pearls to me at my residence. Any time tomorrow will be soon enough.” The Egyptian didn’t smile, but there was an aura of smugness about him

  He could rot in hell before I’d go see him, much less return these pearls to him. And if I’d had a knife, I would have cut out his heart.

  Runihura’s dark brows snapped together, almost as if he’d heard my thoughts, and he glowered at me.

  I swallowed and in spite of myself, backed away a step. His smile became triumphant, and he sauntered out of the room.