Seeing a Large Cat (8 page)

"Oh. Those horses."

"The house is ready, I trust?" Emerson demanded. "I telegraphed you when to expect us."

"Ready? Oh, yes, Emerson."

I took pity on Abdullah-and myself. Emerson ought to have recognized the familiar evasive maneuvers that indicated the individual being questioned had not, in fact, done the job he had been asked to do.

The difficulty was not that Abdullah was lazy or inefficient. The difficulty was that he was a man. He honestly could not understand why I made such a fuss about dust and cobwebs and spiders and sheets that had not been aired since the previous spring. He anticipated a fuss, though, and he was-manlike-hoping to put it off as long as possible.

"It is too late to move all our belongings now, Emerson," I said-and heard an exhalation of relief from Abdullah, so soft I would have missed it if I had not expected it. "We will stay on board overnight."

So we had a pleasant little celebration in the saloon with our friends. It was very lively at first, with everyone talking at once. Daoud wanted to know about Evelyn and Walter, for whom he had conceived a great admiration; Selim bragged of the health, beauty, and intelligence of his children (in my opinion he had far too many of them for a man not yet twenty, but that is the Arab way); David gave his grandfather an (expurgated, I did not doubt) account of his experiences that summer with Sheikh Mohammed; Emerson asked about the tomb and the latest activities of the industrious tomb robbers of Gurneh.

Then the groups broke up and re-formed. I observed that Selim had gone off into a corner with David and Ramses, and deduced, from the smothered laughter and low voices, that he was getting another, unexpurgated version of the summer's adventures.

Abdullah had come to join me on the divan. We sat in companionable silence for a time. As the darkness deepened, the mellow light of a nearby lamp softened his stern features, and I thought how strange it was that I could feel so at ease with an individual so different from myself in every way-in gender, age, religion, nationality, and culture. How well I remembered his contemptuous question that first season in Egypt: "What is a woman, that she should cause such trouble for us?" He had gone to considerable trouble for me in the intervening years, risking his life not once but several times; and my initial suspicion of him had been transformed into profound respect and affection.

I did not know how old Abdullah was. The beard that had been grizzled when first we met was now snowy white, and his tall frame was not so straight as it once had been. Emerson had tried on several occasions to persuade him to retire, but he had not the heart to insist. Abdullah was proud of his position, and with good cause. He was the most skilled reis in Egypt and I did not doubt he could have conducted an archaeological excavation more competently than many of the self-proclaimed Egyptologists who bumbled around the sites.

Abdullah was watching the young people. Nefret had joined them, her coppery gold head the focus of the circle.

"He has become a fine man," Abdullah said softly. "They will be well mated, he and Nur Misur."

"Light of Egypt" was the name the men had given Nefret. For one shocked moment I thought the masculine pronoun referred to David. When I realized whom he did mean, I was almost as shocked.

"Ramses and Nefret? Where on earth did you get such an idea, Abdullah?"

Abdullah gave me a sidelong look. "It was not in your mind, Sitt Hakim, or in that of the Father of Curses? Well, well, it will be as Allah decrees."

"No doubt," I said dryly. "David is a fine young man too, Abdullah. We are all very proud of him."

"Yes. It comforts me to think he will stand in my place when I am too old to work for the Father of Curses."

There was another shock! We meant to educate David as an Egyptologist; he was a talented artist and his intelligence was of a high order-too high to be wasted on the position of foreman. Had Emerson discussed our plans with Abdullah? Surely he must have done. However, Emerson did have a way of assuming there was no need to tell people what he meant to do, since they would have to do it anyhow.

"But," I began, "that would not be fair to Daoud and Selim and the others-to put over them a boy so much younger, without their experience-"

"They will obey my command. David has learned of things they do not know. He will be . . ." Abdullah paused and then said grudgingly, "He will be almost as good as I, one day."

The party went on for quite some time. I had known we would not go ashore that night, so I had ordered the cook to prepare food for a large group. After the men had returned to Gurneh and we had retired to our rooms, I told Emerson what Abdullah had said about David.

"Curse it," Emerson said, throwing the boot he had just removed at the wall.

"Swearing won't help, Emerson. You must talk with him. Surely he would be pleased to see his grandson advance in the world."

"You don't understand." Emerson pitched the other boot after the first. "In Abdullah's world his position is the proudest a man can achieve. How can he admit that a beardless boy, his own grandson, will be his superior?"

"That is very clever of you, Emerson," I said in surprise. "In psychological terms-"

"Don't say that word, Amelia. You know how I hate that word! It is not psychology, it is simple common sense. I will talk to him again, I promise." Emerson rose and stretched and yawned. Golden fingers of lamplight caressed the rippling muscles of his chest. "Er-do you need any help with your-"

"I would not like to trouble you, my dear."

"It is no trouble at all, Peabody."

I did not intend to mention Abdullah's other astonishing assumption, but it preyed on my mind, to such an extent that I found myself becoming angry. Not with dear old Abdullah, of course; arranged marriages are customary in Egypt, and financial factors count for more than the feelings of the young people involved. A cynic might claim that similar considerations prevail in our own society, and the cynic would probably be right. Few doting mamas would consider any subterfuge immoral if it helped their sons to "good" marriages. Was that what the world thought of me-that I was keeping Nefret, Lord Blacktower's heiress, for my son?

Fortunately my well-known sense of humor came to my rescue before I lost my temper completely. "They say-who says? Let them say!" Never would such a contemptible scheme find a place in the bosom of Amelia P. Emerson! Nor, I felt certain, had any such idea entered the children's heads. They had been raised as brother and sister. There is nothing so destructive of romance than proximity, as someone-possibly I-has said.

Besides, they were both far too young. A responsible young man does not even consider marriage before he reaches his mid-twenties.

I do not know what peculiar psychological quirk prompted me to ask, "What do the men call Ramses, Emerson?"

Emerson chuckled. "Quite a lot of things, Peabody."

"You know what I mean. Nefret is Nur Misur, I am the Sitt Hakim, and you Abu Shita'im. Don't they have a similar nickname for Ramses?"

But I did not get an answer at that time, since Emerson had something else on his mind.

We were up before daybreak, eager to get to the house and begin work. As usual, we breakfasted on the upper deck, watching the stars fade out and the eastern cliffs brighten and shift through the spectrum of reflected dawn colors, from smoke-gray to amethyst and rose to pale silver-gold.

As usual, the day began with an argument.

Ramses and David (i.e., Ramses) had decided they would prefer to live on board the dahabeeyah during the season. They (I did not doubt David had been well coached by Ramses) presented a series of specious arguments. The house was rather small for four people and the necessary offices. There would be no need for additional servants, since they could take their meals with us and clean their own rooms, and Hassan and the crew would be on the dahabeeyah much of the time, and ...

And so on. It was all true and it had nothing to do with their real reasons for proposing the scheme.

As I might have expected, Emerson took their side. Men always stick together. Nefret further complicated the situation by proclaiming that if Ramses and David were allowed to stay on board, she should be given the same privilege. Needless to say, I gave that idea short shrift.

"Really!" I said after she had stormed off to her room to finish packing and the boys had discreetly removed themselves. "I begin to wonder if that girl will ever learn proper civilized behavior. Can you imagine the gossip if I permitted her to stay here with them unchaperoned? At night? "

"They are often together, unchaperoned, during working hours," Emerson said mildly. "I have never understood the obsessiveness of the prurient with the hours of darkness. As you are well aware, Peabody, the activity of which they disapprove is not only entirely possible in broad daylight, it can be even more interesting when-"

"Yes, my dear, I am well aware of that," I said, laughing. "You need not demonstrate."

Emerson removed his arm and returned to his chair. "As for Nefret becoming civilized, I hope to heaven she never does, if by civilized you mean behaving like a prim English girl. She is another of those who walk in two worlds," said Emerson, obviously pleased with this poetic metaphor. "The formative years of her life were spent in a society with different, and in some ways much more sensible, standards of conduct. Besides, my dear, your own behavior is not exactly conventional. Nefret is bound to imitate you because she admires you so much."

"Hmmm," I said.

Most of our packing had been completed the day before. We had been waiting for some time before we saw the little caravan approaching-donkeys and carts and the horses Emerson had hired. The men began carrying boxes and bundles to the carts, and Abdullah hurried to me.

"Everything is ready, as you see, Sitt."

"Good," I said. "Selim, just make certain that box of cleaning rags is on top of the pile."

"You will not need them, Sitt," Abdullah assured me.

We had the same little discussion every year, so I simply smiled and nodded-and made certain the cleaning materials were easily accessible. Then I went to join Emerson, who was inspecting the horses.

"They have been washed, Sitt Hakim," said Selim, grinning. "And the donkeys."

I smiled and nodded at him. I meant to look the animals over myself, of course, at a more convenient moment. Donkeys and camels and even some of the cherished horses are not well cared for; when I first began washing and doctoring the animals in my charge I was regarded as wildly eccentric. I was still regarded as eccentric, but I was obeyed.

"Quite a good lot of animals," Emerson said approvingly. "Especially those two. Where did you find them, Abdullah?"

The horses he indicated merited a more enthusiastic description. One was a bay mare, the other a silver-gray stallion. Both were obviously of pure Arab stock, for they had the hard, clean limbs and small well-shaped feet of that superb breed. They were unusually large, however-over fifteen hands-and their saddles, of fine leather ornamented with silver, had never been rented in Luxor.

I had one of my famous premonitions. It may have been prompted by Abdullah's failure to answer Emerson, or by the sight of Ramses stroking the neck of the gray and murmuring in its pricked ear.

"Ramses!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, Mother?"

I moderated my voice. "Whose horse is that?"

Ramses came toward me. The stallion followed him, stepping as daintily as a cat.

"His name is Risha. He and Asfur"-he indicated the mare- "were gifts to us from Sheikh Mohammed. Naturally he is at your disposal, Mother-or Father."

"He's not up to my weight," Emerson said tactfully. "And a little large for you, Peabody, don't you think? Magnificent creatures, both of them! I trust you thanked the sheikh properly."

"Yes, sir." Ramses was not looking at him. "Er-Nefret?"

"Are you offering him to me?" Nefret held out her hand; the splendid creature nuzzled it and then bowed its head as she ran caressing fingers along its jaw and into its mane.

"He is yours if you want him." Ramses spoke without hesitation. I saw him swallow, though.

The smile she gave him would have recompensed many a young man for a gift as great. "You really would? Thank you, Ramses, dear, but you cannot dispose of an animal like this one as you would a piece of furniture."

Gravely, and with a good deal more courtesy than she often displayed to human beings, she introduced herself to Asfur as she had to Risha. "Try her," David urged.

"You are not as gallant as Ramses," Nefret said, laughing. "Aren't you going to offer to give her to me?"

"Oh, yes, of course," David exclaimed in confusion. "I thought you said-"

"Don't tease him, Nefret," I said. "She is only teasing, David."

Nefret patted him on the shoulder. "Help me up."

The stirrup was too high for her to reach. David cupped his hands under her little boot and lifted her into the saddle. The animals were so splendidly proportioned, one did not immediately realize how large they were; she looked like a child perched there on the high saddle. She laughed aloud and gathered the reins into her hands.

"She wants to run! Hurry, or I will be the first to the house. You don't mind, do you, David?"

"No-yes-wait!" David caught at the bridle.

Emerson began to mutter uneasily. He believes in the equality of the sexes, except where his daughter is concerned. "See here, Nefret... I don't think... Peabody, tell her..." He grabbed me round the waist and tossed me onto a randomly selected horse.

"At least wait until David shortens the stirrups," said Ramses. He was standing by Risha, his hand lightly resting on the saddle.... And then he was in the saddle.

He may have done it to distract Nefret, though the desire to show off was certainly an element. It certainly distracted me. I had not seen his foot touch his own stirrup; it was as if he had flowed, in a single movement, from the ground to the horse's back.

Nefret stared. "How did you do that?"

"He's been practicing all summer," David said innocently.