"You are not in his place, Hadrian."
"Alas! I was too slow. But mark my words, Tybalt's the man he is and so he'll remain. It's no use your trying to make him any different."
"Who said I wanted to make him any different?"
"You wait. And now let me take you back to the palace. You must be ready to sink into your bath of chalcedony."
"Is that what it is?"
"I expect so. Grand, don't you think? I wonder what Lady Bodrean would have thought of it. She wouldn't have approved of it for ex-companions even though it's turned out that you and she are connected—in a manner of speaking."
"I should love her to see me in my state apartments . . . especially if she had lesser ones."
"That shows a vengeful spirit, Cousin Judith. You are my cousin, you know."
"The thought had struck me. How are your affairs?"
"Affairs? Financial or romantic?"
"Well, both, since you raise the question."
"In dire straits, Judith. The former because that's their natural state and the latter because I didn't know in time that you are an heiress and missed the opportunity of a lifetime."
"Aren't you presuming too much? You don't think I would have allowed myself to be married for my money, do you?"
"Women who are married for their money don't know it at the time. You don't imagine the ambitious suitor comes along and going on his knees begs for the honor of sharing a girl's fortune, do you?"
"Certainly it would have to be done with more subtlety than that."
"Of course."
"Yet you imagine that you only had to beckon my fortune to have it in your pocket?"
"I'm only letting you into the secret now that it's too late. Come on, I'll get you back to the palace."
We did the journey back to the riverbank on mules where a boat was waiting to take us down the river to the short distance when we alighted on the opposite bank, almost at the gates of the palace.
When we arrived at the palace Theodosia came into the hall.
Evan was down at the site, she told us, and Hadrian remarked that he would have to go back. "You can depend upon it, it will be the early hours of the morning before we return. Tybalt's a hard taskmaster; he works like the devil himself and expects the same of his minions."
Hadrian went back and when I was alone with Theodosia she said: "Judith, come to my room with me and talk."
I followed her along the gallery. The room she and Evan shared was less grand than mine and Tybalt's, but it was large and dark, and the floor was covered by a Bokhara carpet. She shut the door and faced me.
"Oh, Judith," she said, "I don't like it here. I hated it from the moment we came. I want to go home."
"Why, what's wrong?" I asked.
"You can feel it. It's eerie. I don't like it. I can't tell Evan. It's his work, isn't it? Perhaps he wouldn't understand. But I feel uneasy . . . You don't of course. I wish they'd go home. Why can't they let the Pharaohs stay in their tombs? They couldn't have thought, could they, when they went to all that trouble to bury them that people were coming along and going where they shouldn't."
"But my dear Theodosia, the purpose of archaeology is to uncover the secrets of the past."
"It's different finding weapons and Roman floors and baths. It's this tampering with the dead that I don't like. I never did like it. I dreamed last night that we found a tomb and there was a sarcophagus just like the one that time in Giza House. And someone rose out of it with bandages unraveling . . ."
"I can't live that down, can I?"
"I cried out in my dream: 'Stop it, Judith.' And then I looked and it wasn't you coming out of the thing."
"Who was it?"
"Myself. I thought it was a sort of warning."
"You're getting fanciful, Theodosia. I was the one who was supposed to be that."
"But anyone could get fancies here. There's a sort of shadow of the past everywhere. This palace is centuries old. All the temples and tombs are hundreds and thousands of years old. Oh, I'm glad you've come, Judith. It'll be better now you're here. These people are so dedicated, aren't they? I suppose you are a bit. But I feel I can talk to you."
I said: "Are you worried about Evan?"
She nodded. "I often think what if what happened to Sir Edward should happen to him."
I had no glib comfort to offer for that. Hadn't I wondered whether it could happen to Tybalt?
I said, "Of course we get anxious. It's because we love our husbands and one gets foolish when one loves. If we could only take a calm rational view . . . look in from outside as it were . . . we should see how foolish all this talk would be."
"Yes, Judith, I suppose so."
"Why don't you go to bed," I said. "You're not going to sit up and wait for Evan, are you?"
"I suppose not. Goodness knows what time they'll come in. Oh, it feels so much better since you arrived, Judith."
"So it should. Don't forget we're sisters—though only half ones."
"I'm glad of that," said Theodosia.
I smiled at her, said good night and left her.
I went along the gallery. How silent it was! The heavy velvet gold-fringed curtains shut me in and my feet sank deep into the thickly piled carpet. I stood still, suddenly tense because I had an instinctive feeling that I was not alone in the gallery. I looked round. There was no one there and yet I was conscious of eyes watching me.
I felt a tingling in my spine. I understood why Theodosia was afraid. She was more timid than I—though perhaps less imaginative.
There was the softest footfall behind me. Someone was undoubtedly there. I turned sharply.
"Absalam!" I cried. "Mustapha!"
They bowed. "My lady," they said simultaneously.
Their dark eyes were fixed on my face and I asked quickly, "Is there anything wrong?"
"Wrong?" They looked at each other. "Yes, my lady. But it is still not too late."
"Too late?" I said falteringly.
"You go home. You ask it. You are new bride. He cannot refuse his beloved."
I shook my head.
"You don't understand. This is Sir Tybalt's work ... his life . . ."
"His life . . ." They looked at each other and shook their heads. "It was Sir Edward's life, and then his death."
"You must not be concerned," I said. "All will be well. When they have found what they seek they will go home."
"Then . . . too late, my lady," said Absalam, or was it Mustapha.
The other looked at me with deeply sorrowing eyes. "Not yet too late," he suggested hopefully.
"Good night," I said. "I shall retire to my room now."
They did not speak but continued to regard me in their mournful way.
I lay awake. The flickering light of candles showed the ceiling on which had been painted pictures in softly muted colors. I could make out the now familiar outline of Amen Ra, the great Sun God, and he was receiving gifts from an elaborately gowned figure, presumably a Pharaoh. There was a border of hieroglyphs—strange signs full of meaning. I wondered whether while I was here I might try and learn something of the language. I had a notion that there would be many nights when I lay alone in this bed, many days when I did not see Tybalt.
I must be prepared for this. It was what I had expected in any case; but I did want Tybalt to understand that my greatest wish was to share his life.
It was two o'clock in the morning when he came in. I cried out in pleasure at the sight of him and sat up in bed.
He came to me and took my hands in his.
"Why, Judith, still awake?"
"Yes, I was too excited to sleep. I was wondering what you were doing out there on the site."
He laughed. "Nothing that would make you wildly excited at the moment. They've just been marking out the proposed areas and making general preparations."
"You are going on where Sir Edward left off?"
"I'll tell you about it sometime. Now you should be asleep." He kissed me lightly and w
ent into our dressing room.
But I was not ready for sleep. Nor was Tybalt. We lay awake talking for an hour.
"Yes," he said during the course of the conversation, "we are exploring the same ground which my father did. You know what happened. He was convinced that there was an undisturbed tomb in the area. You know, of course, that the majority were rifled centuries ago."
"I should have thought they would have tried to keep the burial places secret."
"Up to a point they did, but there were so many workmen involved. Imagine hewing out the rock, making secret underground passages, then the chambers themselves. And think of all the transport that would be needed to bring the treasures into the tombs."
"The secret would leak out," I said, "and then the robbers came. It's odd that they were not deterred by the Curse."
"No doubt they were, but the fabulous riches found in the tombs might have seemed a worthwhile reward for damnation after death; and since they had been clever enough to find the hidden treasure no doubt they thought they could be equally shrewd in escaping the ill luck."
"Yet Sir Edward, who was merely working for posterity and to place his finds in some museum, is struck down whereas robbers who seek personal gain escape."
"In the first place my father's death had nothing to do with a curse. It was due to natural causes."
"Which no one seems certain about."
"Oh come, Judith, surely you're not becoming superstitious."
"I don't think I am unduly. But everyone must be a little, I suppose, when their loved ones are in danger."
"Danger. What nonsense is this? It's just a tale."
"Yet ... he died."
He kissed my forehead. "Foolish Judith!" he said. "I'm surprised at you."
"It will teach you not to have too high an opinion of my sagacity where you are concerned. Wise men are fools in love—and you can be sure that applies to women."
We were silent for a while and then I said: "I have seen Mustapha and Absalam. They have said I should persuade you to go back home."
That made him laugh.
"It's such nonsense," he said. "It was a tale put about to frighten off robbers. But it didn't, you see. Almost every tomb that has been discovered has been tampered with. That's why it's the dream of every archaeologist to find a tomb which is just as it was when closed two thousand years ago or thereabouts. I want to be the first one to set foot in such a burial place. Imagine the joy of seeing a footprint in the dust which was made by the last person to leave the tomb, or a flower offering lying there, thrown down by a sorrowing mourner, before the door was closed, the mountainside filled in and the dead person left in peace for the centuries to come. Oh, Judith, you've no idea of the excitement this could give."
"We must try to see that your dream is realized."
"My darling, you speak as though I am a small boy who must have his treat."
"Well, there are many sides to people and even the greatest archaeologist in the world at times seems as a little boy to his doting wife."
"I'm so happy to have you here with me, Judith. You're going to be with me all the way. You're going to be the perfect wife."
"It's strange that you should say that. Did you know that Disraeli dedicated one of his books to Mary Anne, his wife. The dedication said 'To the Perfect Wife.'"
"No," he said, "I'm an ignoramus—apart from one subject."
"You're a specialist," I said, "and knowing so much about one thing you couldn't be expected to know others. He married her for her money but when they were old he would have married her for love."
"Then," said Tybalt lightly, "it must indeed have become a perfect union."
I thought: If that happened to me I should be content.
Then he started to talk, telling me of customs, fascinating me with the exotic pictures he was able to create. He told me of what had been discovered in tombs which had been partially rifled centuries ago; and I asked why the ancient Egyptians had made such a fine art of the burial of the dead.
"It was because they believed that the life of the spirit went on after death. Osiris, the God of the Underworld and Judge of the Dead, was said to be the first ever to be embalmed and this embalming was performed by the God Anubis. Osiris had been murdered by his brother Set, who was the God of Darkness, but he rose from the dead and begot the God Horus. When a man died he became identified with Osiris but to escape destruction he had successfully to traverse the mythical river Tuat which was said to end where the sun rose in the kingdom of the Sun God, Amen Ra. This river was beset by dangers and no man could navigate it without the help of Osiris. The river was supposed to grow darker as the flimsy craft, in which the soul of the deceased traveled, progressed. He soon reached a chamber which was called Amentat, the Place of Twilight, and after he passed through that the horrors of the river increased. Great sea monsters rose to threaten him; the waters boiled and were so turbulent that the boat was in danger of sinking. Only those who had led good lives on earth and were valiant and strong could hope to survive— and only they with the help of Osiris. And if they were lucky enough to survive they at length came to the final chamber where the God Osiris judged them; those whom the god decided were worthy of making a journey to Amen Ra went on; those who were not, even though they had so far survived, were destroyed. For those who lived on, the tomb was their home. Their Ka, which is the spirit which cannot be destroyed, would pass back and forth into the world and back to the mummy lying in the tomb, and that is why it was considered necessary to make these burial chambers worthy of their illustrious inhabitants that they might not miss the jewels and treasures they had enjoyed during their sojourn on earth."
I said: "I can understand why they would not be very pleased with intruders."
"They?" he said. "You mean the long dead members of a past civilization?"
"There must be many people living today who believe in these gods."
"'Allah is great and Mohammed his prophet.' You will hear that often enough."
"But there will be many who identify the old gods with Allah. Allah is all powerful as Horus, Isis, Osiris, and the rest. I think people like Mustapha and Absalam believe that Osiris will rise up and strike anyone who intrudes into his underworld."
"Superstition. My dear Judith, we are employing about a hundred men. Think what that means to these people. Some of them are very poor as you'll see. These excavations are a godsend to them."
"You take a practical view, Tybalt."
"You must too."
"I would of course, if you weren't involved."
I heard him laugh in the darkness. He said a strange thing then. "You love me too much, Judith. It's not wise."
Then I clung to him and we made love.
And at length I slept.
It was the time of Shem el Nessim, which I believe means the Smell of the Breeze and is to celebrate the first day of spring. At home it would be Easter time, I thought, and I pictured Dorcas and Alison with Miss Crewe decorating the church with daffodils and spring flowers—yellow most of them, the color, we used to say, of sunshine.
Sabina would be chattering away of church affairs and Oliver would be smiling tolerantly and my aunts would be thinking how much more satisfactorily things would have worked out if I had been the rector's wife instead of married to a man who had carried me off to share in an expedition in a foreign land.
The days since my arrival had disappointed me a little because I had seen so little of Tybalt. He spent every possible moment at the site. I had longed to accompany him but he explained that, although when there was work which I could do I should be allowed to participate, that time was not yet.
We took our meals in the great banqueting hall of the palace and many of us sat down at the long table. Tybalt was always at the head of it and with him would be the more senior members of the band. Hadrian and Evan were not very experienced, but Terence Gelding, who was several years older than Tybalt, was his right hand. He had been concerned in some of the su
ccessful excavations in England and Tybalt once told me that he had become well known in archaeological circles when he had discovered one of the finest Roman pavements in the country, and had also identified the period of some early Stone and Bronze Age relics. Tabitha had taken over the housekeeping with efficiency and it was clear she had been here before. This meant that Theodosia and I were together a good deal and we often took drives in the little horse-drawn traps called arabiyas. It was known that we were the wives of members of the archaeological party and for this reason we could more or less wander about at our will.
Sometimes we were driven away from the town and we saw the fellaheens working in the fields with oxen and buffalo. They looked dignified in spite of their none-too-clean long cotton robes and small skull caps. Often we saw them eating their meal which invariably consisted of unleavened bread and a kind of bean which I discovered was known as Fool.
We would go together in the souk and sometimes buy wares which were displayed there. Our presence always seemed to generate excitement because of a hoped-for sale, I supposed; but no one ever tried to force their wares on us.
There was one shop which interested us particularly because seated there was a young girl, wearing a yasmak, bent over a piece of leather on which she was embossing a design.
We paused and she stopped work to regard us intently out of enormous eyes made to look even larger than they were by the heavy application of khol.
She said in tolerable English: "You ladies like?"
I said that we liked her work very much and she invited us to watch her for a moment or two. I was astonished by the clever way she created a pattern.
"You would like?" she asked indicating a row of slippers, bags, and wallets into which the soft embossed leather had been made.
We tried on the slippers and studied the bags, and the outcome was that I bought a pair of oyster-colored slippers with a blue pattern and Theodosia a kind of dolly bag with a cord by which it was drawn up and shut. Her bag was in the same oyster color with a pale red pattern.
The girl was delighted with her sale, and as the transaction was completed she said: "You with English? They dig in the valley?"
I said yes, our husbands were archaeologists and we had the good fortune to accompany them.
Curse of the Kings Page 18