Guardian of the Horizon by Elizabeth Peters Page A

gold, coupled with our declared intention of returning to the Sudan, has reminded people of our last trip to that region and its result. Mother's ingenious story about finding Nefret with a group of kindly missionaries didn't prevent evil-minded persons from gossiping." "No," I agreed, remembering some of the gossip that had reached my ears. It had run the gamut of bad taste, from speculation about Nefret's parentage to prurient hints of harems and white slavery. "But at least no one postulated an unknown country of vast treasure." "That isn't precisely true, Mother," said Ramses, who seemed determined to look on the dark side. "The people who knew Willy Forth had heard of his dream of finding a lost civilization, and before Reggie Forthright set off in search of his missing uncle, he confided in half the officers at Sanam Abu Dom." "He also babbled to Budge," I said, remembering with dismay a conversation I had had with that gentleman and several of the officers all those years ago. "I do hope you and young Ramses are not going with the Professor when he sets off in search of the Lost Oasis," Budge had said with a hypocritical look of concern. He had meant it as a joke--a jeer, rather, intended to make Emerson look foolish. But Budge was no fool, however much Emerson might deride his scholarship. Having seen Merasen, was he clever enough to put the pieces together? A dismal silence ensued. The boat rocked gently at anchor. The sunset colors had died and the stars had come out--though we had to take them on faith, owing to the mixture of mist and smoke that hung over the city like a dark blanket. "Very well," I said, giving myself a little mental shake--for I had been about to give way to unpleasant forebodings. "Let us consider the worst possible scenario. Who else might harbor suspicions about our real purpose?" "Aside from Selim?" Ramses inquired. "He saw the damned-- excuse me, Mother--the sword. Merasen's landlord probably searched his luggage, which contained several interesting items in addition to the sword. The slavers had seen the gold, and unless they managed to hide it before they were caught, the soldiers saw it too." Emerson let out a heartfelt swear word. "What about Prince Feisal?" "He wouldn't interfere with us. But he's in communication with other would-be explorers, and you can be sure our movements are of interest to many of that lot." "Good Gad," said Nefret in alarm. "Explorers, Egyptologists, slavers, the military . . . Uncle Walter and Aunt Evelyn, of course, and heaven only knows how many random gossips in the antiquities game in Cairo . . . What are we going to do?" Emerson sucked reflectively on his pipe. It had gone out. He made a face and knocked the ashes out into a receptacle. "Our best hope now is to move fast enough to stay ahead of possible followers. The only alternative would be to squat round the pyramids of Meroe digging innocently and industriously until they give up." "We can't do that," Nefret exclaimed. "We've lost enough time already." "I suppose now we will actually have to go to Meroe, in order to throw people off the track," I said with a sigh. "That will mean further delay, transporting ourselves and our gear back north to Napata." "Don't worry about that," said Emerson. "I have it all worked out." Ramses's eyebrows shot up. "I hope, Father, you don't intend to strike out into the desert from Meroe? Last time we left from Gebel Barkal, and the route given by the map starts there. Calculating a new route--" "I have it all worked out," Emerson repeated. "Leave it to me." "Oh dear," I murmured. "Your lack of confidence cuts me to the quick, Peabody," said Emerson. "How soon can we be ready to leave Cairo?" "If the rest of you will condescend to help me supervise the packing, two, possibly three more days." "Certainly, certainly," said Emerson. "Ha," I said. "Do we take Selim and Daoud with us? And what about the Amelia?" "We cannot elude Selim," said Ramses. "Any effort to do so