FROM THE TRAVEL JOURNALS OF MRS ASHLEE DEVERE
Two and a half weeks after leaving Ostia we reached the ancient land of Egypt and were nearing the fallen city of Alexandria. We crossed paths with many outward-bound vessels. We proceeded by the fleet of the Pasha anchored under the walls of the seraglio, and negotiated our way through the difficult and dangerous reef-ridden channel to anchor in the harbour.
Mariners were usually guided through the reefs by a local, but Captain Falco was not prepared to let any locals board our vessel, because at the port of Malta there had been reports of a plague in Alexandria. Captain Falco was here to drop us off and then leave; he would not risk his crew.
‘There is plague in the city?’ Thankfully, this was the first my husband had heard of the rumour, or he might have paid the captain to take us elsewhere.
‘In the Frankish quarter of the city it is not much of a concern, apparently, nor in the desert. It is just the poorer parts of town that one need worry about,’ the captain assured us.
‘So much history,’ I uttered, transfixed by the allure of the ancient city.
I was amazed to see that Pompey’s Pillar, a tribute to Egypt’s proud history, still stood tall and was one of the most prominent landmarks of the city.
‘I can’t wait to get in amongst it,’ I said with a huge smile.
‘Are you not listening?’ My husband was very concerned now. ‘There is plague in the city!’
‘When you travel so far abroad you have to expect to face a few hazards.’ I played down the risk.
‘Then we will head straight for the Frankish quarter,’ Devere stated.
‘Agreed.’ Anything to get my husband off the boat.
‘Agreed,’ echoed Cingar, whereby Devere and I both objected.
‘You are definitely going home with Captain Falco,’ I lectured. ‘I shall not be responsible for keeping you from your family any longer.’
‘You need me,’ he stated plainly. ‘Do either of you speak Arabic?’
‘I speak a little,’ I lied. I could read it, but I wasn’t too sure how well I could speak or interpret the local tongue. In truth, what I had heard so far sounded like gibberish.
Cingar gave me a look that implied disbelief, and then spoke a sentence in the local tongue and awaited my response.
I caught a couple of words I recognised and I tried to piece together the overall meaning of what he was saying, but I deliberated too long.
‘You won’t last five minutes,’ Cingar concluded, ‘as I just gave you directions to the Frankish quarter.’ He smiled to rest his case, but then added: ‘Let’s not even discuss what will happen when you attempt to arrange provisions for your journey.’
‘I feel sure there are translators to be found in the city.’ I tried to dismiss the gypsy one last time.
‘But none are so well disposed toward you and your safety as I,’ he stated sincerely, placing his right hand over his heart.
I clicked my fingers as I remembered. ‘Albray speaks Arabic, I’m sure of it.’
‘Albray,’ queried Cingar. ‘Who is Albray?’
‘No one worth mentioning,’ my husband decreed, making it plain by the look he served me that he did not entirely trust Albray. ‘You are a good friend to us, Cingar.’ Mr Devere was very grateful to our gypsy friend and rather fond of his company. ‘We humbly accept your fine offer and shall be eternally grateful for your guidance.’
The gypsy smiled broadly. ‘Then let us enter Alexandria!’
The dockside streets of the ancient city were a far cry from what they would have been in the glory days of Egypt, although it did feel like we had stepped back thousands of years in time.
Flies swarmed around the masses of dirty, half-naked, sore-eyed Arab men and the donkeys, yelping dogs and camels bustling around the long range of bazaars that lined the way to the Frankish part of town.
We were forced to barge our way through the commotion behind our guide, who seemed to take all the bustle, stench and noise in his stride. For a time I clean forgot that there were such things as obelisks, pyramids and ruined temples; my sole mission was to find some space, and air to breathe. Suddenly, I was a lot more apprehensive about threats of plague and Mr Devere passed me his handkerchief so that I might cover my mouth and nose.
When we eventually cleared the crush, we found ourselves in front of a whole row of fine buildings that were shops stocked with European goods. These were followed by other renovated dwellings dedicated to lodging, business, restaurants for dining and salons for drinking. Amid these were fine country houses, displaying beautiful gardens that grew upon barren sands.
‘What an improvement.’ I couldn’t believe how pompous that statement was, but the Englishwoman in me was completely delighted to find the comforts of home in such an ancient city. ‘What should we do first? Find a room? Go shopping?’
‘I would see Mr Banks, the English consul,’ Cingar suggested. ‘You are required to sign the consular book as a record of your arrival and presence in the East.’
‘But we don’t wish to announce our presence here. What if Molier was to see it?’ I posed.
‘Molier would see the French consul,’ Cingar pointed out, and yet the prospect still made me feel uneasy.
‘Perhaps tomorrow, just before we leave,’ I suggested. ‘What I need right now is a bath.’
The temperature was unbearable and my green velvet attire was not helping.
‘Done,’ Cingar agreed, leading off down the road. ‘As we wish to avoid attention, might I suggest you bypass the more popular hotels and guesthouses of the French, English and Americans. I know an Italian gypsy trader who would be happy to accommodate us. His home is not as grand or prestigious as some, but I guarantee it is more hospitable and comfortable than any in the city.’
As expected, Cingar’s boast did not fall short of expectations. The European part of Alexandria is located in the outlying section of the city and it was in a quiet little back street that we came to the dwelling of Mr Frinkulo Maximoff. Mr Maximoff was a coppersmith by trade and, by fortune, a trader in Middle Eastern exotica to the West. Silks, soaps, statues, spices and scents: his large dwelling was filled with them. The front room of the house was also his store and showroom. Born in Italy, the Maximoffs were gypsies who became too successful to risk displaying their wares and carrying their fortune on the road. They did the unthinkable and quit the nomadic life to settle on the edge of the desert, where they had lived happily and prosperously for over twenty years.
The Maximoffs did adore having guests, however, and as friends of Cingar, we were warmly welcomed, fed and given the best guestroom in the house. A sunken tiled bath had been hand-filled by the staff with warm water and sweet scented oils whilst we ate. Hence, our room was filled with heady fragrances when we were ready to retire and refresh ourselves.
Our balcony overlooked a large garden courtyard, in which many of the herbs, spices and scents sold by Maximoff were cultivated. I gazed across the rooftops toward the burning sands of Egypt, wafts of scented water from our room mingling with the perfume of the garden carried upon the hot breeze, and I felt myself seduced by the pleasurably unfamiliar atmosphere. This would remain with me for the rest of my life. Whenever I remembered the East, I would be swept back to this magical moment. ‘I think I shall adore this city after all,’ I called to Devere, who was preoccupied inside our room.
‘Me too.’
I returned inside to find my husband had already stripped naked and was submerged in the large bath with a cigar in hand.
‘You look very content, in my bath.’ I had to chuckle at his speed.
‘There’s plenty of room,’ he grinned.
I decided to indulge his invitation, as I was just as eager to remove my immensely constricting and inappropriate attire. ‘We have to buy some local clothes for the journey,’ I said, tossing aside the green velvet items. Naked below the torso, I walked into the tub toward Devere and then turned and knelt down beside him so he c
ould undo my corset.
‘It doesn’t get any better than this,’ he commented, admiring my behind as I stood to cast off my last item of clothing.
‘Now we don’t want to destroy our host’s lovely home.’ I sank into water all the way over my head, to surface a very invigorated woman. ‘Praise my foremothers, that feels fabulous!’
Devere ran his hand down my wet, oil-scented skin. ‘If we just take it real slow, maybe the damage can be controlled?’
‘Wouldn’t that mean we’d have to divide our attention between the world outside us,’ I slid my way on top of him, ‘and the world inside?’ I lowered myself to sit upon his already eager member.
‘Not at all,’ he grinned confidently. ‘I guarantee my want of you will overcome any obstacle.’ His kiss encouraged me to forget about the consequences and seize the moment.
In fact, we seized the whole afternoon, and evening found us still lounging on the bed, our bedcovers wound around us.
‘Our host must think us awfully rude,’ I raised myself to dress, as I was feeling rather famished, ‘and this is certainly not getting us any closer to the Sinai.’
‘Are you aware that you have a tiny chakra system growing inside your own?’ Devere placed his hand over my lower stomach. ‘Right about here.’
My heart skipped a beat and jumped into my throat—I must have appeared so guilty.
‘When were you planning on telling me?’ he queried calmly, but with a tinge of accusation and hurt.
‘I wanted to be sure.’ My defence was transparent.
‘You expect me to believe you didn’t know?’ Devere saw through me. ‘And you’re a far better psychic than I am.’
‘It is what your brotherhood wanted from this union.’ I decided to be frank. ‘And the truth is, I was doubtful that you would risk your prime goal to allow me to complete my quest.’
‘The ambitions of my order are not the reason I would see you return to England.’ Devere was angered by my assumptions, as deep down I knew he would be. ‘Have you no regard for the life of our child that you would risk its future?’
All I divined from my husband’s words was that he wished me to return home. ‘You are so predictable!’ I hurried dressing. ‘Is it any wonder I don’t confide in you?’
‘You are not running away from this argument.’ Devere began dressing himself, just in case he needed to pursue me.
‘And you are not taking me back to England!’ I secured the stone’s bracelet around my wrist, grabbed my weapons belt and coat, and made for the door.
‘Please, Ashlee, be reasonable.’ Devere grabbed my arm to delay me.
I glared at him a moment and then stated resolutely, ‘In the name of the goddess, I repel you!’
‘No, Ash,’ Devere appealed as he was drawn to the bed and compelled to lie down. ‘Please don’t forsake me again. Don’t forsake our ch—’
‘I blind you to my being.’ I spoke up before I could be touched by his appeal. Devere’s eyes closed despite his struggle and he immediately fell into a deep sleep. ‘And I banish you from my thoughts and heart until my quest is done,’ I concluded solemnly. ‘May the goddess keep you safe until then…may she keep us all safe.’ I stroked my flat belly, yet to show any trace of my condition, and then opened the door.
‘My dear lady.’
I gasped when I found Cingar standing at my door, dressed in a light Arab cloak with a hood.
‘I have arranged passage on a merchant boat to Cairo, but unfortunately it leaves tonight,’ he informed me.
‘That suits me fine.’ I stepped into the hall to join Cingar and closed the door behind me.
‘Are you not going to wake Devere?’ The gypsy was puzzled by my actions.
‘My husband is not coming with us,’ I announced coldly, making my way downstairs before I had to contend with an argument.
‘Oh, not again!’ the gypsy whined in my husband’s defence. ‘Abandoning your spouse at every given opportunity is no way to run a successful marriage,’ he scolded.
‘Hah, look who’s talking!’ I responded lightly, but the gypsy did not look amused. ‘Are you coming with me, or staying with Mr Devere?’
He gave me a hurt look, surprised I had asked. ‘You know I am always at your service.’
‘Then come aid me to buy an Arab cloak from Mr Maximoff, so that we may be on our way to Cairo.’
Cingar drew a deep, uneasy breath. ‘As you wish, my lady.’ He reluctantly left the door to my room and followed me downstairs.
LESSON 21
FEARS
FROM THE HONEYMOON JOURNAL OF LADY SUSAN DEVERE
We had been anchored three days in the harbour of Alexandria before we witnessed the arrival of our kin. Lord Devere had yet to disclose the name of his brother’s vessel to our captor, so it took Malory a bit longer to become aware that Ashlee and Mr Devere were now in the city.
Coming on to evening, my lord and I were loaded into a boat and rowed to shore—after admiring the ancient city from the ship for many days, I was rather curious to take a closer look.
‘The Deveres are at the home of Mr Frinkulo Maximoff for the night,’ Malory’s spy informed him. ‘He’s a gypsy trader on the far side of Little Europe.’
We had already established that Lord Devere and myself were being taken along on the ambush as leverage, and I had a strong suspicion that our kidnapping was about to turn ugly.
The streets of the city were still a hive of activity; the smells of spicy food and the sound of fevered music, played on exotic instruments, had me quite enchanted. I had a burning desire to get amongst the crowd and enjoy the carnival atmosphere, but had little chance of fulfilling my desire, surrounded by Malory’s knights as we were.
I could see why they called the Frankish end of town Little Europe. It was far more developed, staid and civilised.
Our party did not go unnoticed as we passed up the main thoroughfare. An English gentleman crossed the road from a salon to introduce himself to our party as Mr Banks, the English consul in Alexandria. Malory was inwardly annoyed when Mr Banks invited us to sign the consular book.
‘Unfortunately, we have a previous engagement.’ Malory attempted to decline.
‘Come, come, Lord Malory.’ Lord Devere decided to complicate the issue. ‘It won’t take long, and Mr Banks is sure to have vital information regarding our stay in Alexandria.’
‘That I do.’ The gentleman seemed most eager to be our host.
‘Tomorrow morning, perhaps,’ Malory adamantly insisted.
‘I tell you what.’ Lord Devere was not about to pass up the opportunity to give Malory the slip. ‘You go on and Lady Devere and I shall catch you up.’ My husband grinned as he took my arm and guided me out from amid Malory’s men.
‘Splendid.’ Mr Banks motioned us toward his premises just across the road.
Angry at having to split his force, Malory motioned a couple of his men to follow us and had the remaining four knights accompany him on his mission.
We had no sooner entered the consulate than my husband was asking after their bathroom facilities. When one of Malory’s guards tried to accompany him, Lord Devere put him off. ‘I feel sure I am safe in the consulate and do not require your assistance.’
Mr Banks suppressed a smile at the comment.
‘Bodyguards,’ commented my husband to his host. ‘They are a little overzealous at times. Stay,’ my lord had the cheek to order the knight once more. ‘I shan’t be long.’ As I was still under their watchful eye, the guard was embarrassed and remained in the lounge.
Mr Banks had gone to arrange things, and took a little longer than expected to return to the sitting room. When he did, he offered drinks all round and gave no hint that anything was amiss.
Only later did I learn that my husband had explained the situation to our host, and had then slipped out of the house. Mr Banks had provided directions to the back entrance of Mr Maximoff’s home, and also sent one of his house servants to fetch the local authorities.<
br />
Once five minutes had elapsed, I was beginning to wonder after my husband’s whereabouts myself, and although I tried to keep my guards distracted with lively conversation, one of them was clearly growing concerned.
‘The spicy food here is certainly a shock to the system,’ he commented to Mr Banks. ‘If you would kindly excuse me.’
Mr Banks was nowhere near as eager to offer up directions this time. ‘I’m afraid we’ve only one bathroom here. Once Lord Devere returns—’
The knight, frustrated, drew his sword, which made Mr Banks, and me, gasp in shock. ‘Go and find Lord Devere,’ he instructed his accomplice, pointing the tip of his sword in our direction. The consul then reached inside his jacket to produce two pistols, aiming one at each of Malory’s knights. ‘How about we await the Lord Devere’s return?’ he said, encouraging the men to relinquish their weapons. I collected them for safekeeping.
In the meantime, Lord Devere had raced to his brother’s rescue and arrived at the back entrance to Maximoff’s house, just as Malory and his men were approaching the front door.
After managing to scale the back wall in darkness, James nearly bowled over a couple of Arabs as he sped up a pathway in the courtyard. He entered the kitchen appealing desperately for information from the house staff. ‘Devere? Devere?’
At first the women shook their heads, alarmed by the intrusion, until James managed to piece together enough Italian to explain that he was here to warn his brother of danger.
The eldest woman looked James over and, able to see the family resemblance and that this man was clearly an English gentleman, she relented. ‘Come, I’ll show you.’
The servant woman knocked a few times on the guest’s door and then opened it when there was no response. She smothered a scream. A dark man leant over the sleeping Devere, and when he looked up his eyes glowed red and yellow like a demon’s.
‘Get your hands off my brother,’ James warned, his fear for his brother’s welfare giving him the courage to run at the beast, who had his palms clutched around Earnest’s temples. As James came near, the creature growled and shattered into a white mist, which wafted quickly out through the balcony doors.
Gene of Isis Page 42