Pride and Pyramids

by Amanda Grange

  While he was speaking to the reis, Elizabeth arranged for many of their own possessions, including cooking implements, bedding, and other necessaries, to be left on board until they should be needed, for although Sir Matthew had assured her that the camp was well equipped, she suspected that an archaeologist’s idea of “well equipped” would not match her own.

  And embedded securely within a pile of sheets was Aahotep.

  Leaving behind some of the guards they had hired to protect the boats from any passing thieves who might otherwise prey on them, and to make sure that the reis did not decide to remove his boats without their permission, the Darcy party disembarked. All around them were the fellahs who had been engaged to work for them, unloading their less precious possessions and then putting them onto the backs of camels and donkeys.

  “Well, Elizabeth?” said Darcy as he saw his wife eyeing one of the beasts. “What is it to be, a camel or a donkey?”

  “Mama, Mama, look at me!” shouted Laurence enthusiastically, as he balanced precariously on top of a camel which rose unsteadily to its feet.

  Paul rapidly sketched the sight, catching Laurence’s expression of triumph perfectly—as well as the camel’s placid gaze, the undulation of the sand dunes, and the exotic dress of the camel driver, whose long robe was tied in the middle with a rope belt and who wore a rusty red turban wound around his head.

  “I can hardly do less than my son,” said Elizabeth.

  She accepted the camel driver’s hand and he helped her to mount another beast, which was kneeling before her. It looked placid enough, but its teeth were large and its smell was appalling. It was, nevertheless, an exhilarating experience when the camel stood up and she found herself high above the riverbank, looking down at Sophie and Edward.

  Sir Matthew, William, and John were already astride camels, while Jane was perched in front of Laurence. Beth had decided, like Sophie and Edward, to ride on a donkey. Margaret stood by, placidly watching them all and clutching her new doll.

  There had been tears when Aahotep could not be found, but her nursemaid had consoled her by saying that Aahotep had no doubt been packed in one of the cases and would be unpacked when they reached the dig, and in the meantime there was her new doll, which her mama had kindly bought for her on a shopping expedition…

  So Margaret had unwillingly accepted the substitute, which had come as a relief to Elizabeth and Darcy, and the nasty little doll was left behind.

  Darcy climbed onto a camel and scooped his youngest daughter up in his arms, setting her down in front of him, and the caravan began to move away from the lush, fertile banks of the Nile toward the endless sand dunes that lay not far beyond. Their camels sailed along, stepping sure-footedly in the shifting sands, and once Elizabeth had become accustomed to the strange rolling sensation and to being so high above the ground, she found she was enjoying herself. The sun shone down from a cloudless sky, and the party was in cheerful mood. It was not too hot, the year being advanced, and they stopped once at an oasis, where they rested in the shade of the palm trees and drank from the cool waters of the pool. Ferns grew there and a surprising number of wild flowers.

  “We will return here later, just you and I,” murmured Darcy. “We will come one morning for a picnic, without our entourage.”

  “I should like that very much,” said Elizabeth.

  After another few hours’ ride they began to see signs of activity, which was a welcome change after the vast emptiness of the desert. Fellahs in loose robes and colourful headdresses were leading strings of heavily laden donkeys toward a campsite in the distance.

  It was for this site they headed. Elizabeth was surprised to see how well organised it was. They passed an area which served as a stable, where donkeys were being unloaded, and then rode through an archway into a courtyard. The courtyard was surrounded on all sides by a long, low building, which was alive with bustle. Men came and went through open doors, and in the middle of the courtyard there sat a group of small boys washing bits of pottery, some of it broken and all of it colourful.

  “You did not believe me when I told you it was almost as large as a village,” said Sir Matthew, seeing her face.

  “No, I must confess I did not. I thought…”

  “You thought I was saying what I must in order to persuade you to visit and finance further work,” he said, “but as you can see, I spoke nothing but the truth. It was very much smaller at the start of the year, but with the help of my patrons I have been able to extend it to a useful size.”

  “I am glad to see your trip to London was so profitable!” Elizabeth returned, as her camel knelt and Sir Matthew helped her down.

  “It has enabled me to continue my work, and do so in some comfort,” said Sir Matthew. “You will be hot after your journey, but once you have had time to wash and eat, you must let me give you a tour.”

  They were all ready for a meal eaten in the shade, and once they had refreshed themselves, Sir Matthew himself showed them round the camp.

  “On this side of the courtyard we have the bedrooms,” he said. “Rooms have been made ready for you. They are simple, but I think you will not find them too uncomfortable.”

  Elizabeth looked round at the bare walls, but noticed with pleasure the rug on the floor.

  “A mixture of goat, sheep, and camel wool,” said Sir Matthew, following Elizabeth’s gaze. “Not as fine as the rugs you have at home, I am sure, but colourful and attractive in their own way.”

  There was a bed and a washstand with a bowl and jug and space for hanging clothes. It was indeed sparse when compared to Pemberley, but Elizabeth glanced at Darcy and knew she could be happy with him anywhere. She caught his gaze and knew that he was thinking the same.

  Sir Matthew led them on, showing them the rooms where the finds were kept. Most of them were pieces of pottery, but here and there were small daggers and the like, and the glint of gold.

  “We found these in the desert not long since,” said Sir Matthew, picking up one of the necklaces. “A pretty trinket, no more. The tomb it came from had been plundered many times and only a few, small pieces remained.”

  The passed through into another room, which housed an easel and various artistic equipment.

  “Mr Waite, our artist. He makes a pictorial record of every object found.”

  Elizabeth was amused to see the two artists eyeing each other, but after a short conversation, when it became apparent that Sir Matthew’s artist had no interest in portraiture or landscapes—indeed, regarded them as frippery wastes of time—the two men seemed content to take their own similar, but different, places in the expedition.

  “And then there are the bones,” said Sir Matthew.

  “Bones?” asked Laurence, his attention caught.

  “Yes, bones. I thought that might interest you, young sir. We have found a great many bones, and we have found mummies as well.”

  Laurence’s eyes grew wide with delight.

  “Would you like to see them?” asked Sir Matthew.

  The girls declined, but Laurence looked as though the world held no greater pleasure, and Sir Matthew dispatched the boys with a trusted assistant to view the grisly remains.

  Beth and Jane soon tired of the adults’ conversation and began to run about, glad to be able to stretch their legs after their long hours of riding. Elizabeth looked affectionately after them, her pleasure in the sight bittersweet, as she knew that Beth was already leaving such pleasures behind and that, before long, her eldest daughter would regard it as beneath her to play in such a carefree manner. Already, much of the time, Beth was conscious of her dignity and refused to play with the younger children, but there were still moments when she reverted to her childish ways and Elizabeth relished them, knowing they would soon be gone.

  Only Meg remained with the adults. She had fallen asleep and was now being
carried in Darcy’s arms.

  Soon Mrs Bennet, too, tired of the conversation. As they went into the courtyard she sat down in the shade and wafted herself with her hand, too hot to speak. Another of Sir Matthew’s colleagues, with Egyptian features but wearing English dress, saw her perspiring brow and brought her a fan made of palm leaves. She was about to take it, but he shook his head with a smile and wafted it to and fro himself. Mrs Bennet, never slow to appreciate a handsome young man, flirted with him in a way which would have made Lydia proud.

  Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged long-suffering glances and then, with Edward, they followed Sir Matthew round the rest of the site as he showed them what a difference their patronage had made.

  “Having such well-connected sponsors has helped me to attract many more, and now, as you can see, we are well provided for here, with all the necessary tools and with plenty of space to store our findings,” he said, showing them a simple, but well-organised, room of tools. Then they moved on. “In this room we examine our finds and decide which to keep for further study and which to send back to England. I have already shipped three crates of artefacts to the British Museum since seeing you last, and now, with your further help,” he said, bowing to Edward and Darcy, “I intend to send them many more.”

  “We are all looking forward to seeing your Egyptian room at the museum when it is finished. It seems a long time since we saw you there,” Elizabeth said, recalling the gloomy room into which they had stumbled in the spring.

  “You would scarcely recognise it; it is already taking shape, thanks to your generosity. Several funerary urns and statuettes have already joined the frieze of Aahotep.” He turned to Edward. “Are you still determined to look for her fabled tomb, young man, or have you accepted that the real treasures are the artefacts which show us how the ancient Egyptians lived? The map you have is nothing more than a madman’s delusion, I assure you, and if you continue to believe in it you will be disappointed. These maps of undisturbed tombs are found everywhere in the bazaars of Egypt, always marking the location of a fabulous treasure and always being sold to the unwary for a fabulous price.”

  “Map?” asked Darcy, looking at Edward intently. “You did not tell me about the map.”

  Edward looked uncomfortable.

  “Ah,” said Sir Matthew. “It seems I have made a faux pas. I thought you knew.”

  “Knew what?” asked Elizabeth.

  “That your cousin is not just here to learn more about ancient Egypt; he is here for a purpose,” said Sir Matthew. “But I have said enough.”

  “Edward?” asked Darcy, setting Margaret down gently on a chair, for she had started to stir. “Is there anything you would like to tell us?”

  “Nothing at all,” said Edward, though he looked even more uncomfortable as he said it.

  “You are not really thinking of searching for the tomb our fathers tried to find?” asked Darcy.

  “And what if I am? Is it not worth finding?” he demanded.

  “That map is meaningless. Believing in it broke our fathers’ health, and it will break yours, too.”

  “No,” said Edward. “Because I know something our fathers did not. I know the meaning of some of the hieroglyphs that decorate the map, thanks to the work of Thomas Young and his like—I have been in correspondence with them—and thanks, too, to my own endeavours. I have already discovered that the city marked on the map is Cairo and not Luxor, as our fathers thought, and so when I found that Sir Matthew was already excavating in the area, I went to see him in London and enlisted his help.”

  “Which I gave you on the understanding you would not place too much reliance on the thought of finding an undisturbed tomb, and on the veracity of your map,” said Sir Matthew uneasily.

  “Then you have found the map,” said Darcy. “And all this time you have said nothing about it. But where did you come across it?”

  “It was in the attic, along with a portrait of our fathers, and the queer little doll that Margaret so loves.”

  “That map claimed a year of our fathers’ time, and it very nearly claimed their lives,” said Darcy. “They searched for the tomb repeatedly but found nothing except illness and accident.”

  “If you only knew what I know you would think differently,” Edward said, his enthusiasm overcoming his embarrassment. “Look!”

  He took a piece of parchment out of the pocket of his jacket, which he had worn throughout their long, hot journey from Cairo. When he spread it on the table they could see the markings on it.

  “Here is an oasis, and here the river,” said Edward, pointing out the landmarks. “Exactly as we have found them.”

  “An oasis and a river,” said Darcy. “Egypt is full of spots like that. And even if you were certain, the map is not clear enough to be of any use. The last third is missing, and it is the last third which pinpointed the exact spot of this supposed tomb.”

  “I am sure it is here,” said Edward doggedly. “It is not only the map; it is everything else as well. When I heard Sir Matthew’s frieze of Aahotep was found near here, I was certain it was significant, as that was the name of the doll our fathers brought home. The frieze, the doll, and the map are all connected. Do you not see? I am convinced she is somehow connected to the undiscovered tomb, and in all probability it is the tomb of the wealthy people she murdered.”

  “I see nothing of the kind,” said Darcy. “It is a tenuous connection at best, and at worst it is madness, the same sort of madness which infected our fathers. I am sorry now I agreed to help you.”

  “You will not be sorry when we find the tomb and fill Pemberley full of its marvels,” said Edward. “Or when there is a Darcy collection at the British Museum. Only think what we will be giving to the world, as well as…” He trailed away.

  “As well as?” Darcy prompted him.

  “Oh, well…” Edward gave an awkward laugh. “As well as the treasures we will collect for ourselves. I know you do not need treasure, Darcy, but it is different for me. I have an allowance, of course, and it does very well for the moment, but I am a younger son, and a younger son must make his way in the world. He is so positioned that he has expensive tastes but not the means of satisfying them.”

  “I seem to remember your brother saying something similar at Rosings many years ago,” said Elizabeth.

  “I am not surprised. But he was lucky in the end. He fell in love with Anne, and Anne had enough fortune for the two of them. But S—” He stopped suddenly.

  “But Sophie does not?” asked Elizabeth. “That is what you were going to say, is it not?”

  He could not deny it.

  “Are your feelings for her serious, then? You are not simply amusing yourself with her or trying to raise her spirits after her unhappy love affair?”

  “No, I am not simply amusing myself, and yes, my feelings are serious,” he admitted. “There is something about Sophie,” he said, glancing toward her as she played with the children. “It is not just that she is pretty, although she is very, very pretty, nor just her sweet nature. There is something about her that makes me want to spend my time with her more than anyone else. When we are together, I feel differently about everything. The world seems better and brighter, and so do I. She is the only woman in the world I want to marry.”

  “You know that she likes Mr Inkworthy?”

  “I do,” said Edward, sounding glum, then he brightened. “But, fortunately, Inkworthy is not in a position to marry any more than I am. But when I find the tomb—”

  “If you find the tomb,” said Darcy.

  “Very well, if I find the tomb. But why should I not? Sir Matthew has found some promising signs of a tomb located nearby.” He turned to Sir Matthew. “Now that you cannot deny.”

  “No, I cannot,” said Sir Matthew.

  “It is there somewhere, Darcy; I can feel it.”
>
  Elizabeth was growing fatigued by the heat and sat down. Sir Matthew, noticing it, said, “Gentlemen, might I suggest some refreshments before you continue your discussion?”

  “A good idea,” said Darcy.

  Elizabeth gratefully accepted. Turning to her daughter, who had wandered over to the map and was studying it intently, she said, “Come, Margaret, let us find something to drink.”

  Margaret seemed not to hear her. Instead, she leaned over the map and studied it with even more innocent intensity. Sir Matthew smiled, charmed by her interest.

  “Do you like the pictures, my dear?” he asked kindly.

  Margaret looked up, a stern expression on her face. “They’re not pictures; they’re writing.”

  “Indeed they are. We call them hieroglyphs and many great men have spent years trying to decipher their meanings.”

  Margaret nodded almost casually. “That’s Ammon and that’s Husn. We’re here at last. Aahotep is very pleased.”

  Sir Matthew looked at her curiously.

  “What did you say, my dear?” he asked.

  “This is the place where Ammon and Husn are. Aahotep is very happy you’re all here.” She yawned suddenly.

  Elizabeth was disappointed that thoughts of Aahotep had not been left behind, even if the doll had not travelled with them, but reasoned that it would take some days, or even weeks, for Margaret to forget the doll entirely.

  “Meg is tired after her long journey,” Elizabeth said.

  “I have no doubt that is true, Mrs Darcy,” Sir Matthew replied. “Nevertheless, I would very much like to know where she heard those words.”

  “Why? Do they mean anything to you?” asked Elizabeth. “I confess, they mean nothing to me.”

  “They are names. Egyptian names.”

  Edward, whose finger still traced the hieroglyphs, said, “It could be the meaning of these hieroglyphs here. Some of the pictures we have already deciphered fit in with those names. But there is no way Margaret could have known.”

  He looked at her with a perplexed frown.