The Most Loved of All Page 7

I could barely focus my eyes. “I’m sorry, Lord.” My voice was a gravelly wreck. “I had no thought of anything but you.” I didn’t bother telling him the Pharaoh had given me instructions not to say a word.

  He snapped his fingers and slaves brought in a tray of food and wine. “Make sure you eat that. The physician will be in to see you shortly. When I return for you, you had better be able to walk. And make sure you wear a shoulder cape.” He glared at me, and it took a moment for me to recall the bite mark he’d inflicted on me. “I’ll try to put Tutankhamun off for at least an hour.”

  Khentemsemet must have succeeded, because the physician had at least that long to work on me. When he touched my anus, I moaned in protest and tried to roll away from him. “Allow me to ease some of your discomfort, Prince. This is the price one must pay for being the guest of honour at an orgy.” He repeatedly inserted a long, slender rod that was coated with some concoction that did, indeed, soothe my sorely used channel.

  After that, he kneaded the sore muscles of my upper thighs, smoothed something on the bite wound on my back, and had me drink a potion that would give me the energy to get through the meeting with my brother. “These excesses, in one so young.” The physician shook his head in disgust, tsk-tsking as he left my chamber.

  * * * *

  Hobbling like an old man, I followed the high priest into Tutankhamun’s council chamber.

  “What is wrong with Teremun, priest?” my brother demanded, taking note of the bruises that ringed my eyes, indicating too little sleep.

  Khentemsemet’s smile was indolent. “It must have been something he ate. He spent the night in the necessary, I believe,” he lied easily. “I can always send him back to the temple.”

  “No. He will not be returning to the temple with you.”

  Khentemsemet stiffened. “Mighty One, your brother has been consecrated to the service of Anubis. It is not permitted for anyone to sunder his vows.”

  “But it is permitted for the high priest to turn him into a whore?”

  I frowned. Wasn’t the high priest to be brought to justice for daring to plot against the Pharaoh?

  “Stand away from Our brother, Khentemsemet, and prepare to hear your punishment.”

  “For taking the boy as my lover? It is my right.”

  “No. For daring to plot the overthrow of your Pharaoh. Guards!”

  Khentemsemet swore under his breath. Before I could take more than a step away from him, I felt a sharp stinging in my lower back. I grunted from the force of the blow, and swayed slightly, but no one seemed to notice the bloodstained knife that Khentemsemet let drop to the rush-covered floor.

  The Pharaoh’s personal guards seized the high priest’s arms and twisted them up behind his back. “Hear Our decree, priest.” Tutankhamun snarled the title, making it a vile epithet. “Your shaft and testicles will be severed from your conscious body and fed to the jackals. You will be bound in strips of linen and buried alive in a coffin made of wood, but so that your misguided followers do not try to revive your miserable corpse, the place of your burial shall be kept secret, and We shall have the Sacred Scroll of Thoth buried in a location of Our choosing. Your temple will be dismantled stone by stone, and the ground upon which it stood sown with salt. The priests who colluded with you in this will be executed and their bodies burned.”

  I turned cold. With no body, they could never enter the afterlife.

  My brother finished his terrible sentence. “The name Khentemsemet will be expunged from the records of the reign of Tutankhamun.” He made a slashing gesture. “So shall it be written, so shall it be done!”

  The high priest was dragged, hurling curses, from the chamber. My last sight of him was of his burning eyes, fastened on mine. “The mark on your back will brand you as mine until the end of time! You will never be free of me. I shall return for you, Teremun!” he raged. “I shall return! I swear it by the god Anubis!” The door swung shut behind him, and his voice grew fainter.

  “Mighty One, you must not destroy the temple.” I wavered, finding it more and more difficult to remain upright.

  “Teremun.” My brother was at my side, his arm around me. “Have no fear. We shall build a new temple on duly consecrated soil.” With a cry, he withdrew his hand and stared at the blood that covered it.

  I sagged in his arms, my weight bringing us both to the floor.

  “Send for a physician.” he shouted.

  “Too late,” I whispered in my ruined voice. My vision was beginning to blur, and pain radiated from the wound in my back. “Know, O, Mighty One, that ever have I been loyal to You.”

  “Your body will be preserved to be buried with mine, my brother.” Moisture fell on my upturned face.

  With wondering fingers, I touched my Pharaoh’s cheek, finding it wet with tears.

  And then my Lord Anubis was beckoning me, and I followed him into the afterlife.

  Chapter 10

  I awoke to find my face wet with…rain. A freak desert storm had blown up, to vanish as suddenly as it arrived, and the tent had sprung a leak. The thirsty ground swallowed the moisture greedily, and by the time I rose from my camp bed, the heat of the new day had evaporated the last of it.

  I’d never been ill—even as a boy I’d never had any of the usual childhood ailments. Now I felt dreadful—like death warmed up.

  The tea I had brewed the night before was tepid, but I drank it anyway, while I gnawed on a piece of hardtack. As I rolled up the blanket I realised for the first time in quite some time I didn’t feel as if that huge phallus I had dreamed of was shoved up my arse. I could walk freely and comfortably.

  Someone scratched on the canvas of my tent. “I’m almost ready,” I called. To my surprise, Mr Carter entered.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, Sayer, but…I need to ask a favour of you.”

  “Of course, sir.” I was a Christian. It was my duty to help my fellow man. Even if that particular fellow man treated the death of someone I deeply loved so cavalierly. Still, Charlie had spoken well of him. “How may I be of assistance?”

  “Something horrid has happened, and what I’m going to ask of you will not be an easy task. I’ll be sending a number of men with you.” He plucked fitfully at a button on his waistcoat. “Edward Cramdon needs medical attention. He’s…not himself.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “He’s…to put it quite frankly, Cramdon seems to have gone mad.” Mr Carter’s face was pale, and sweat beaded at his hairline and dripped down his temples to his cheekbones. “I’ll see that you have plenty of supplies, and of course, I’ll give you a purse to cover all expenses. You may keep whatever is left, if anything is left. If you’ll come with me?”

  “I’d like to say goodbye to Charlie first.”

  “Certainly. I’ll meet you at the corral.”

  “Thank you.” I put Charlie’s slouch hat on my head, gathered up my carpetbag and went to Charlie’s grave. “I’m leaving this place, and I’m so sorry you won’t be coming with me. I’ll do my best to hold onto the farm.” I twisted the ring on my finger. “I…I have to go now. They don’t want me here. Rest in peace, Charlie. I’ll always love you.”

  I turned and traced Mr Carter’s steps to the end of camp, where the horses were corralled. “What happened, Mr Carter?”

  His shrug was a gesture of loss. “No one seems to know. Cramdon retired early last evening to continue to work on deciphering the Scroll of Thoth. Over supper he enthused over how much he had already translated. We heard a shriek some hours later, after midnight, I believe, and found him unconscious. When he revived, he was like this.”

  I stopped dead. I had dreamed of the Scroll of Thoth the night before. It was supposed to have the ability to bring the dead back to life. I could recall little else of the dream, and although it seemed to me it was supposed to be highly erotic, I hadn’t found it so. “Where is it, sir? The Scroll? Do you have it in a safe place?”

  “What? Oh,” he looked around vaguely, as if the S
croll was somewhere nearby. “I say, I have no idea where the blasted thing is. Bloody hell. That’s all we need. The first tomb of a pharaoh to be found intact, and now important pieces are turning up missing.”

  “Pieces?” I became alarmed. “Is something else missing, sir?”

  “Not your concern, young man. Ah, here we have it. Your horse is all saddled.”

  A handful of men sat their mounts sullenly, none of them looking too well. Had they been chosen because they wouldn’t be missed? Rashid, who would once again be my guide, swore at them periodically to pay attention to the spare horses and pack donkeys.

  As for Edward Cramdon, he was restrained in a makeshift straightjacket and tied to a donkey that had proved its stamina on the trek to the Valley of the Kings. Cramdon’s eyes gazed blankly at the horizon. Periodically, he would look around and giggle insanely, muttering, “He’s alive. He shouldn’t be, but he’s alive!”

  I felt the hairs at the nape of my neck rise, but I fought down the uneasy feeling and examined my mare.

  I made sure the tack was comfortable for her. We had a long way to go, and I didn’t want to take the chance that she would develop a canker because someone was careless. She was a well-behaved animal, and when I tapped her leg, she obediently raised her foot so I could check her hoof. I repeated this action with each leg. Our lives depended on her being fit to cross the desert.

  Each hoof was smooth and unbroken. I patted her shoulder and fastened the donkey’s lead rein to my saddle. Then I secured my carpetbag behind Cramdon. I frowned at it. It was becoming quite worn, and I hoped it would help brace him and keep him in place before it fell to tatters.

  I returned to Hubini and rubbed her nose as I picked up her reins. All the riding I had done with Charlie on the Veldt had made me a competent horseman.

  I was about to step into the stirrup, but paused. “Charlie’s horse, sir?”

  He looked uncomfortable. “Oh, I thought, if you didn’t mind, we might keep him. Just for the time being. We’d see you got him back, of course, but just now, we need him desperately.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but the horse was a loan, given with the understanding that when he was no longer needed, he would be returned to his original owner.”

  “Of course, of course.” Mr Carter signalled one of the men who saw to the livestock, and I stood waiting until George was brought to me and his reins tied to my saddle. Only then did I swing up onto Hubini’s back.

  “One moment, young man.” Lord Carnarvon came striding up. One hand rested on Hubini’s neck, while the other held something out toward me. “A letter to the Governor. He’s an old acquaintance of mine, and will see to Cramdon’s well-being for my sake. Cramdon will need funds.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a wallet. “This should take care of him until his family can be notified to fetch him home.”

  “Oh God, he had family?”

  “An elderly aunt. I believe she’s all that was left.” Lord Carnarvon squeezed my knee, and then, his mouth a grim line, he hurried away.

  The men were already heading out of the Valley of the Kings. Mr Carter handed me another purse filled with coins, searched my eyes for a long moment, then nodded. I tugged the brim of my hat in farewell and touched my heels to the mare’s sides. She set out at a ground-eating walk.

  “Godspeed, young man.”

  I waved a hand to let him know I had heard him, as ahead of me the land blurred and I struggled to restrain tears that were too close to the surface.

  Not all that long before it had been Charlie biding me Godspeed.

  * * * *

  On the whole ride back to Cairo, I had the uncomfortable feeling we were being watched, followed. Even Hubini and George exhibited a nervousness not usual for warhorses of the nomadic desert tribes. Yet each time I glanced over my shoulder, the trail behind us appeared empty.

  But we were so plagued by disasters—two horse threw a shoe and became lame, one of the donkeys broke free and ran off with supplies we couldn’t afford to lose, and another broke a leg and had to be put down—that I was forced to push the possibility someone might be coming after me from my mind, and eventually buried it so deep that I forgot about it.

  We buried two men along the trail. The third died just before we entered Cairo. The others vanished, barely waiting to get paid. They were certain a curse had followed us out of the desert, and although I was a Methodist, I was inclined to agree with them.

  “Where to now, lord?” Rashid asked.

  “I’ll take Cramdon to Government House. Will you return to the Valley of the Kings?”

  “I think not. I’ll see if my woman has waited for me. If she has, I think I’ll marry her and buy a little tavern.”

  “Do you have enough money?”

  He grinned. “I have enough for that. And perhaps a bit more.”

  “Take the extra horses.” I took some coins from the purse Mr Carter had given me and handed them to the guide. “Thank you, and good luck.” We shook hands and parted ways.

  Wearily, I rode up to Government House. Streaked with dust, hungry, thirsty, and heart sore, I dismounted and untied Edward Cramdon from the back of the patient little donkey. One of the guards hurried down the steps to assist me.

  “He’s a British subject,” I said, in partial explanation.

  “Let’s get ‘im out of this sun, shall we, sir?” The grizzled soldier got an arm around Cramdon’s shoulders and we encouraged him to set one foot in front of the other. “What ‘appened to ‘im, sir?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Too much heat, too much desolation, too much…” Curiosity? I couldn’t tell this pragmatic soldier that. He would never believe Cramdon might have delved into things best left unexplored. I felt a frisson of unease at the thought of the missing Scroll of Thoth.

  He just nodded in agreement, accepting these scholarly-types tended to go out into the desert without an inkling of what they might be facing. The man we brought into the consulate wasn’t the first to return from the vast sea of sand driven to madness.

  An under-under-secretary took charge of the shell that was Edward Cramdon. He accepted the wallet I handed him, along with the letter from Lord Carnarvon.

  “Will you be needing anything, Mr…er…?”

  “Sayer,” I informed him, exhaustion starting to creep up on me. “No, I’m…I’ll…I don’t need anything, thank you.” I turned on my heel, leaving the last reminder of that disastrous dig behind me.

  As I made my way carefully down the steps of Government House, I heard my name hailed.

  “Roddy! Roddy Sayer! I say, hold on a tick, old chap.”

  “Tommy? Good lord, what are you doing here?”

  He gripped my arm, grinning happily. “I always pop in for a spot of tea around this time,” he said in a plummy tone. “I must say, I hadn’t expected to see you here anytime soon.”

  “Yes, well, things didn’t work out for the best, and I left the dig.” I frowned at him. I’d heard him use that tone of voice the last time we’d met in Cairo, and I didn’t like it.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, old man. How about letting me buy you a pint?”

  I remembered only too clearly what had almost happened the last time he had bought me a drink. For a moment I considered what would have happened if that ghostly phallus hadn’t made itself felt.

  To my amazement, I could feel myself grow hard, and I paled in dismay. What kind of a miserable person was I, to even think of taking another man into my body, when the love of my life was lying in a desolate grave in the back of beyond?

  Again there was the sensation of eyes watching me. I scanned the street, seeing only the usual bustle of the crowd. Heat waves rippled the atmosphere. Heavy beads of sweat trickled from my hairline, rolled down my spine, dripped from my jaw as the heat reflected off the narrow street and surrounding buildings engulfed me, and my vision narrowed to a pinpoint of light. I swayed on my feet, on the verge of a swoon.

  “Here, now, Roddy. Are you all right?�
�

  I came to my senses to find myself sitting on the kerb, my head between my knees. Tommy lifted my hair and patted the back of my neck with a moistened handkerchief. “Charlie’s gone.”

  “He left you?” he exploded. “The slimy bastard left you? I’ll hunt him down like a dog.”

  I gave a watery chuckle. “You never struck me as being melodramatic. No, he didn’t leave me, at least not the way you mean. Charlie is dead. I buried him in that fucking desert.” I had to stiffen my upper lip or I’d begin to weep like a baby. “He always joked that he wanted green grass over his grave, and now he’ll never have it. Never have flowers. Never have anyone visit it.” I met his tourmaline eye. “I’m never coming back here again.”

  Tommy slid his arm around my shoulder and hugged me to him.

  It would not do for passersby to see one man sobbing in the arms of another. I struggled to bring my emotions under control. “Sorry, Tommy. I’m…I’d better be on my way.”

  “Like hell, you will. Did you get a hotel room?”

  “No, I hadn’t the time.” I stared at him thoughtfully, my woes temporarily set aside—they would never be entirely forgotten. Interesting how his voice had lost that plummy tone. “Edward Cramdon needed to be taken care of.”

  “Who? Oh, the chap who’s off his rocker? You brought him here?”

  “Yes.” I searched futilely for my own handkerchief, remembered I’d used it to try to cool my love and must have left it behind in his tent, and had to settle for drying my cheeks on my sleeve. I sighed and lurched to my feet. The horses and the donkey were…where? I located them, walked to where they waited patiently, and collected their reins. “That site’s had nothing but bad luck right from the start.”

  “But…you don’t have a room for the night yet, do you?” He seemed to be most concerned with where I would spend the night.

  “No.” I fanned my face with Charlie’s hat—now my hat—blotted the sweat from my forehead, and settled my hat on my head.

  “Come back to my place with me. I’ve plenty of space, I’ll never even know you’re there.”