I could see it all clearly in daylight.
I laughed at myself. I was as bad as Theodosia.
I began to realize that I had felt uneasy ever since the Feast of the Nile. If I could see Yasmin and talk to her as we used to I would feel differently. I did not like mystery.
Theodosia was not feeling well and Tabitha offered to walk with me into the souk.
Naturally we talked about her news.
"It seems wrong to feel this relief, but I can't help it," she said. "It was no life for him in any case, Judith. He was unaware of who he was for the greater part of the time."
"I don't think you should blame yourself for being relieved," I assured her.
"One does nevertheless. One wonders if there was anything one could have done."
"What could you have done?"
"I don't know. But I was only happy when I could forget his existence, and that seems wrong."
I glanced at her. But she did look different—younger— and there was a shine about her beauty which made it more obvious.
We passed the shop where Yasmin used to sit. The old man was in her place. He looked up and saw me. I knew that he was about to murmur the usual "Allah be with you!" but he changed his mind. He appeared to be intent on his work.
We went on. As we passed the soothsayer he spoke to us.
Tabitha sat down on the mat beside him.
"A great burden has been lifted," he said. "You are happy as not for a long time."
He looked up at me and touched the mat on the other side of him.
"You are loved," he said to Tabitha. "You should go away, far away to the land of the rain. You should go, and live in great joy, for you are loved and the burden has dropped from your shoulders."
Tabitha's color had deepened.
I thought: He means Tybalt. Tybalt loves her and she loves Tybalt and she is free . . . though he is no longer so.
Why didn't they wait a while? He should not have hurried into marriage for the sake of ...
The soothsayer's eyes were on me. "Go back, lady," he said, "the bat hovers over you. He hovers like the great hawk, lady. He is there waiting."
"Thank you," I said. "My future is always the same. One of these days I hope I shall have a batless one."
He did not understand; and we put our money in the bowl and walked away.
"Of course," said Tabitha, "he is just the same as the gypsies at home. They give the fortune they think will make the most impression."
"Well, I am no longer impressed by these premonitions of gloom. And they quite upset Theodosia."
"These people have a different outlook from us, you know. They rather like the fatalistic approach. They like to visualize danger which is avoided by wisdom. That is what he is giving you."
"It's most inhospitable. He's always telling me to go home. I do wonder why when I have been quite a good customer. He'd miss that, wouldn't he, if I took this death talk seriously."
"I admit that's a bit odd."
"At least he was right about the burden dropping from your shoulders. I believe that information about us is passed on to him and he uses it in his prognostications."
"That would not surprise me," said Tabitha.
Evan came to me while I was sitting on the terrace late that afternoon. I always enjoyed sitting there and watching the sun set. It fascinated me how it would be there one moment and then gone and the darkness would descend almost immediately. It would make me remember nostalgically the long twilight of home when it grew darker gradually and the evening came almost reluctantly.
Evan said: "I'm glad I found you alone, Judith. I wanted to talk to you about Theodosia."
"How is she today?" I asked.
"She's very depressed."
"Do you think she ought to go home?"
"I'd hate for her to and yet I begin to think it might be for the best."
"She wouldn't want to leave you. Couldn't you go with her?"
"I doubt whether Tybalt would be prepared to release me."
"Oh ... I see."
"I suppose if it were imperative he would but . . . it's hardly that. The climate doesn't agree with Theodosia and now that she is going to have a child . . ."
"I know, but we shall have left here before that happens."
"Undoubtedly, but she doesn't seem to get any better . . . worse in fact. There is something about the place that has a strange effect on her."
"Would she perhaps then go home and wait for you to come back?"
"I don't think she would want to go back to our university quarters. She could go to her mother, but you know how things are there. Lady Bodrean never really approved of our marriage. I think Theodosia wouldn't be very happy at Keverall."
"Perhaps she could go and stay at Rainbow Cottage. The aunts would love to coddle her. Or to Sabina at the rectory."
"That's an idea; but I know she doesn't want to leave me . . . nor do I want her to."
"You could ask her anyway."
"I will," he said, and he seemed a little more cheerful.
The next day I was in the courtyard when a voice whispered: "Lady."
I looked round and at first could see no one and then a figure slowly emerged from a bush in the corner of the courtyard. It was a young Arab whom I could not remember having seen before.
"Lady," he said, "you have magic in jar."
He held out his hand, which was bleeding slightly.
"Why certainly, I'll dress it," I said. "But the first thing is to clean it. Come inside."
I took him into a little room which Tabitha used a good deal and which opened onto the courtyard. Here she arranged flowers when we could get them. She had put a spirit lamp there so that it was possible to boil water. I took some from a jar which was kept on a bench and boiled it in a pan. I told the young man to sit down and went up to my room to get Dorcas's ointment.
He watched me as I bathed the wound, which was very slight; and while I was drying it he whispered: "Lady, I come because I want talk with you."
I looked intently into his bright dark eyes; I could see that he was frightened.
"What do you want to say?"
"I want to speak of Yasmin. You very kind to Yasmin."
"Where is she?"
"She is gone. I pray to Allah to bless her soul."
"You mean she is dead?"
He nodded and a look of infinite sorrow passed over his face.
"How did she die? Why?"
"She was taken away."
"By whom?"
He was struggling to understand me and to convey his meaning. It was difficult for him.
"I loved Yasmin," he said.
"You work on the site?" I said. "You work for Sir Tybalt Travers?"
He nodded.
"Very good master with very good lady. Very secret."
I said: "You can trust me to keep your secret. What is your name."
"Hussein."
"Well, Hussein, tell me what you know of Yasmin's disappearance and you can rely on me to say nothing if it is advisable not to."
"Lady we love. But her father say No. She is for the old man who keeps many goats and sells much leather."
"I see."
"But love is too strong, Lady, and we meet. Oh, this I dare not say. We have offended the Pharaohs."
"Oh come, Hussein, the dead Pharaohs wouldn't be offended by two lovers. I daresay they had a few love affairs in their time."
"Where can we meet? There is no place. But I work. I am trusted workman. I work inside the old tomb. I am one of Sir Travers's best workmen. I knew when there will be workings and when there will not; and when there are not we meet there, in the tomb."
"You are bold, Hussein. Few people would wish to meet in such a place."
"It is the only place and love is strong, Lady. Nowhere else could we be safe and if her father know he would marry her at once to the man of many goats."
"I understand, but where is Yasmin?"
"It is the night the great Pasha
comes. We are to meet. Together we go to the tomb. But Sir Travers says to me, 'Hussein, you are to take a message to Ali Moussa.' He is a man who makes tools they use. 'And you are to bring back what I ask. I will give you paper.' So I must obey and then I cannot go to the tomb. Yasmin went alone . . . and it was the night of the Pasha's coming. I never saw her again."
"But you talk of her as though she is dead."
"She is dead. She was thrown into the river on the day of the feast."
I drew a deep breath. "I feared it," I said. "But Hussein . . . why?"
He lifted his eyes to my face. "Please tell me, Lady. You are wise. Why is Yasmin thrown to the crocodiles?"
"Crocodiles!" I cried.
He bowed his head. "Sacred crocodiles. I have seen sacred crocodiles with jewels in their ears and bracelets of precious stones on their paws." He looked over his shoulder as though he feared he would be struck dead.
"Who could have done this?" I cried. "Who could have thrown Yasmin into the river."
"Big men, Lady. Big strong men of power. She has offended in some way. It is because she is in the tomb, the sacred tomb. It is the Curse of the Pharaohs."
"But Hussein, the Pharaohs couldn't have done this. Someone else has done it and there must be a reason."
"I see not Yasmin since the day I am sent to Ali Moussa; but I think she goes to the tomb, alone."
"She is a brave girl."
"For love one is brave, Lady."
"You think she was discovered there by someone?"
"I do not know."
"And when she was thrown into the river she gave no sign of life. She was like a life-size doll."
"Perhaps she is dead already, Lady. Perhaps she is drugged. I do not know. All I know is that she is dead."
"But why do this? If anyone wanted to kill her why go to this elaborate method of disposing of her?"
"Lady, you see pictures on these walls. You have seen the prisoners the Pharaohs bring in from their wars. Have you seen, Lady?"
"I have wondered who the people were. I have seen men tied upside down to the prows of ships on these pictures; and others without a hand or an arm or leg."
"You have seen, Lady, what happen to those who offend the Pharaoh. They are given to the crocodile. Sometimes they take an arm, a leg . . . and the captive lives on. It shows him and others what happens to him who offends. Sometimes they are thrown to crocodiles. You understand?"
"I can't understand how Yasmin could have offended."
"She went into the tomb, the forbidden place, Lady."
"And what about the rest of us?"
He shivered.
"Hussein," I said, "are you sure the figure that was thrown into the river was Yasmin?"
"Does the lover not know his beloved?"
I said: "I knew her but slightly but I thought I recognized her."
"It was Yasmin, Lady. And I was in the tomb, though not on the night she disappeared."
"You are afraid that they will take you, too?"
He nodded.
"I don't think so, Hussein. They would surely have done so by now. I think somebody was there on the night she went there alone and whoever that was killed her. You should say nothing to anyone of your relationship with her."
"No, I do not. It was our secret. It is for this reason we choose such a place for our love."
"You must be clever, Hussein. Do not speak of Yasmin! Do not show your sorrow."
He nodded, his dark eyes on my face. I was touched and a little afraid by the obvious faith he had in me.
"This," he pointed to his hand, "nothing. I come to see wise lady."
I wanted to protest at such a description but I could see that the only way I could comfort him was by allowing him to believe it fitted.
"I am glad you came to me," I said. "Come again if you learn anything."
He nodded.
"I knew you wise lady," he said. "You have magic in jar."
I could scarcely wait to see Tybalt alone. I wanted to tell him what the boy had told me and ask what could be done about it.
But how difficult it was to see my husband alone! I chafed against the delay. It was late afternoon when I saw him come into the palace. He looked dejected. He went straight up to our room and I hurried after him. He was sitting in a chair, staring at the tips of his boots.
"Tybalt," I cried. "I have something to tell you."
He looked up rather vaguely as though he scarcely heard what I said.
I burst out: "Yasmin is dead."
"Yasmin?" he repeated.
"Oh, of course, you won't know her. She's a girl who made leather slippers in the souk. She was thrown into the river at the Feast of the Nile."
"Oh?" he said.
"This was murder," I said.
He looked at me in a puzzled way and I realized that he was not giving me his attention.
I cried out angrily: "A girl has died . . . has been killed and you don't seem to care. This Yasmin was in the tomb that night when the Pasha came and . . ."
"What?" he said. I thought in exasperation: One only has to mention the tomb and he is all attention! That she had trespassed there was of more importance to him than that she had met her death.
I said: "One of your workmen has been to see me. He is terrified so please don't be hard on him. They had a meeting place in the tomb and the girl has died."
"A meeting place in the tomb! They wouldn't dare."
"I am sure he was not lying, but the point is the girl is dead. She was thrown into the river on the day of the Feast."
Tybalt said: "They throw a doll into the river nowadays." "This time they threw in Yasmin. I thought I recognized her. So did Theodosia. And now we know. Tybalt, what are you going to do about it?"
"My dear Judith, you are getting excited about something which is no concern of yours."
"You mean to say we look on calmly while someone is murdered!"
"This is just a tale someone has told you. Who was it?" "He was one of the workmen. I don't want you to be hard on him. He has suffered enough. He loved Yasmin and now he has lost her."
"I think you have been the victim of a hoax, Judith. Some of these people love a drama. The storyteller in the souk always tells stories which are supposed to be true of lovers who die for love and they make up the stories themselves." "I'm sure he wasn't making this up. What can we do about it?"
"Precisely nothing . . . even if it's true." "You mean we stand by and countenance murder!" He looked at me warily. "We are not these people's judges. The first thing one has to learn is not to interfere. Some of their customs seem strange to us ... even barbaric . . . but we come here as archaeologists and consider ourselves lucky that we are allowed to do so. One of the cardinal laws is No interference."
"In the ordinary way yes . . . but this . . ." "It sounds absurd to me. Even in the old days when a girl was thrown into the river as part of the ceremony it had to be a virgin. It seems to me that your Yasmin was not likely to be that since she had been meeting her lover in such an extraordinary place."
"It was someone who wanted to get rid of her."
"There are many ways of disposing of bodies other than such an elaborately public one."
"I think it was a warning."
He passed his hand wearily over his forehead.
"Tybalt, I don't think you are really paying attention."
He looked at me steadily and said: "We have completed the excavation on which our hopes rested. And it has led us to a chamber which is a blind alley. It goes no farther. It must have been put there to trick robbers. Well, we have been thoroughly tricked."
"Tybalt!"
"Yes, all our work of the last months has led to this. You may say that our efforts and all the money we have put into this have been wasted."
I wanted to comfort him; I wanted to put my arms about him and rock him as though he were a disappointed child. It was then that I realized that we were not really as close as the passion we shared had led me to believe.
He was aloof; there was nothing I could say which would not seem banal. I realized in that moment that this work was more important to him than anything else on earth.
"So," I said coolly, practically, for my emotions were held completely in check, "this is the end."
"This is the ultimate failure," he said.
To say I was sorry seemed foolish. So I just sat silent.
He shrugged his shoulders and that terrible silence continued.
I knew that he had completely forgotten Yasmin, indeed that he had scarcely given her a thought. I knew that he was scarcely aware of me.
There was nothing in his mind but Failure.
VIII
Tragedy on the Bridge
All next day everyone was talking about going home. It had been one of the most expensive expeditions ever made and it had led to nothing—a blind alley in an already depleted tomb!
Tybalt had made a great mistake. He had been deluded by his father's words before his death. It all came back to that. Because his father had died mysteriously—and it was mysteriously whatever anyone said about it—Tybalt had believed he was on the verge of a great discovery. So had others. And now they had learned through bitter disillusion, the destruction of hope, and the squandering of a great deal of money that they had been deluded.
Theodosia was unfeignedly delighted. The thought of going home was a tonic to her.
"Of course I'm sorry for Tybalt," she said. "It's a great disappointment to him. But after all it'll be wonderful to be home."
Hadrian said: "Well, so it's all off. We shall soon be home and our great adventure at an end. Has it cured you, Judith? You were so crazy to come out here, weren't you? And it wasn't quite what it seemed. Oh, I know our Judith. You saw yourself leading us all on to victory. Playing the Mother Superior to the party and finally breaking your way through and discovering the undisturbed tomb of a mighty Pharaoh. And this is the reality."
"I have found it fascinating."
"And you haven't minded being an archaeological widow? Do you think I haven't seen you gnashing your teeth! Who wants to take second place to a lot of dead bones?"
"I soon became reconciled to my position and although it has ended like this, a fact which we must all deplore, I can truthfully say it has been a wonderful experience."
Curse of the Kings Page 24