Close Up the Sky (36 page)

Nefertari rose and
walked to where she could look out the balcony doors. She kept her back to
Taylor for a long moment before she turned. "I believe you are speaking of
the Eye of Amen."

Simultaneous
sensations of relief and anxiety washed over Taylor. She got up and went over
to the queen. "Then you have seen it? You know where it is?"

Nefertari’s
serenity turned to nervousness and she wrung her hands. "We also saw the
star you spoke of fall from the heavens. Our priests assured us it was a sign
from Amen sent in recognition of the pharaoh's birthday. For that reason he
sent his personal guard and some slaves to find it and bring it back. They
returned with the stone you seek. In gratitude to Amen, Ramses placed it in the
holy temple where he prayed for many days. Then a stranger came among us and
attempted to steal it. The temple guards arrested him and brought him before
the pharaoh. This man suffered from a head wound, and was possessed by spirits.
For reasons I do not know, the pharaoh believed that he was one of the sea
people. The stranger was not in his right mind much of the time, so the pharaoh
ordered him put aboard a boat and sent downriver. He was to be placed in the
care of a caravan master and returned to his own people without further harm. Before
he departed, the pharaoh presented him with the Eye of Amen as a peace offering
from our people to his. You see
,
there is a great fear
in Egypt that the sea people might someday destroy us, and we did not wish to
provoke them."

Taylor saw that
the queen had become upset, so she took her hand and held it. “Your Majesty,
did you see this man yourself? Can you describe him?"

Nefertari could
not help noticing the apprehension in the other woman's voice. "I did not
personally see him, Taylor, but Ramses told me of him. His complexion was very
fair, similar to the people from the far side of the sea on our northern
border. His hair was light, almost the color of sand, and he wore strange black
clothing."

Taylor let out the
breath she had been holding. "Did you say he was sent downriver?"

"Yes. He was
placed aboard a barge and departed only today."

She felt the blood
drain from her face. The man tied to the mast of the barge they had passed on
their way to Thebes must have been Edward Leahy! Now she understood the
presence of the soldiers on the ship.

"Your
Majesty, I must know exactly where this barge is going," she pleaded.

Nefertari
disengaged her hand and took a step backward. She looked at Taylor in a
curious, almost fearful way. "Are you one of the sea people, Taylor?"
Her voice was a whisper. “I must know this.”

Taylor's mind was
racing. She evaded Nefertari's question. "Majesty, I believe this man is
one of my people; the one who is missing from the Valley of the Kings. In
addition to searching for the stone, we are also looking for him. I must see
the pharaoh as soon as possible. Will you help me?"

"You did not
answer me, Taylor." Nefertari's voice was calm but firm. "Are you one
of the sea people?"

"I do not
know who these sea people are that you fear, Your Majesty. But I swear on our
friendship that neither I nor my people mean you any harm."

Nefertari looked
deeply into her eyes for a long moment and saw only sincerity. “I will arrange
the audience," she said. "Come back to the palace when the sun sets. I
will have someone waiting to take you before the pharaoh."

"There is one
other thing, Your Majesty, if I am not presuming too far on our
friendship."

"What is
it?"

Taylor squeezed
her hands together hard enough to whiten her fingertips. "Four of us were
sent to find the stone. One of the men, someone very dear to me, became
separated from the rest of us during a storm in the desert. He is the brother
of the man to whom the pharaoh gave the Eye of Amen. There is a possibility
that he may have died in the storm, but I believe he is alive and is trying to
find us. I am not a person of great wealth or possessions, Your Majesty, but I
would gladly give everything I own to find him."

Nefertari could
read the pain in Taylor's eyes. The love she felt for this man showed plainly
in her face. She smiled and said, "I will see that searchers are sent
immediately to the Valley of the Kings and along the Nile in both directions. The
city guards will also be alerted. If he lives, and it is within my power, we
will find him. Now let us dine together. I would like to know more about who
your people really are.” She smiled knowingly and added, “Especially this lost
man you seek."

The two women embraced and sat down to the food Tuahla had brought.

Matt sat with his
back against the wall where the soldier had deposited him. As soon as they had
entered the compound he knew he was in the holding area of some kind of prison.
The soldier had spoken briefly to some officials about the charges against him,
and then departed. Other than the harsh treatment they had accorded him during
his arrest, he was unharmed. The compound was roughly square, about two hundred
feet to a side, with a dirt floor. There was no roof, so the sun was free to
bake the brains of anyone whose head was unprotected. His own brain fit
uncomfortably into that category. A couple of dozen other men either lounged
against the walls dozing, or walked aimlessly around the dismal confines of the
prison. Most of them had a rough and disheveled appearance as though they had
been here for some time. It was not difficult to perceive that they were petty
criminals either serving sentences for their crimes or awaiting trial.

He looked again at
the heavy doors through which he and his guard had entered the jail. As they
were closing, he had caught a glimpse of Williams and Summerhour standing a few
yards away in the shadow of a building. At least they knew he was alive and
where he was. He hoped they were not wasting any time working on a plan to get
him out. He was beginning to feel dejected. It seemed as though everything he
had tried to do lately had turned sour, and he reasoned that it must be his
Irish blood. He concluded that there was some truth in the old saying about
unfortunate things being
the luck of
the Irish.
He remembered asking his mom
once what that saying meant, and she had told him that it was part of something
called Murphy's Law. Since he had become a man he had grown to understand and
appreciate that piece of Irish wisdom. But Murphy's theory went straight out the
window when it came to Taylor. In that regard, he considered himself to be the
luckiest man alive. It would not be long now before she learned that he was
alive and where he was.

He also thought of
Nessif. So the Morruk chief had somehow survived the massacre and followed him
to Thebes. But what possible motive could he have? He and his men had already
stolen the gun and left him for dead. Nessif knew that he did not possess
anything else of value, yet he was here. Whatever the case, Matt was certain that
Nessif would make his reasons known at the most advantageous moment.

He had been so
deep in thought that he did not notice the prisoner that had approached him
until the man's shadow fell across his face. He looked up, but said nothing. The
man wore a decorative brown robe and head cloth. For a criminal, he seemed
surprisingly clean. He grinned at Matt, exposing yellow teeth, though he
appeared to be only in his late twenties.

"I am called
Setari," he said in a jovial tone. "Who are you?"

Matt noticed out
the corner of his eye that two other men who had been sitting a few yards away
had gotten up and were coming in his direction.

"What do you
want?" he answered.

"I want
nothing," Setari replied. "We are all prisoners here. I saw the
soldier bring you in. I only wish to make conversation."

Matt got to his
feet and stood facing the other man. He was about six inches taller than Setari
and a good forty pounds heavier. If trouble started, he intended to take out
this little runt first. Moreover, the soldiers had not searched him and he
still had the knife Tarel had given him.

"You are not
Egyptian," observed Setari. "Where do you come from?"

Even though he was
speaking Egyptian, Matt noticed that he had a heavy accent
;
almost as bad as his own. "I answered that very question a couple of hours
ago and it landed me in here. Why should I answer it again?” The other men,
slightly taller and heavier, arrived and stood behind Setari. "I meant no
harm, sir." He turned to the other men and introduced them. "This is
Zimi and Matuo, my friends." Both were as well kept and about the same age
as Setari.

Matt clinched his
fists and balanced his weight on the balls of his feet. From past experience he
expected an attack, and was surprised when the two men smiled and nodded. He
relaxed slightly but remained alert. He saw that the flesh around Matuo’s left
eye was purple and his bottom lip was swollen. The man had apparently been in a
recent fight.

Setari saw Matt
looking at Matuo’s injuries. "We were here for two days before we saw the
magistrate. We heard just recently that we have been granted a reprieve during
the feast of Amen, and that our sentences will not be carried out until
tomorrow. Most of the men here are Egyptians, but we are Libyans. We have
already learned that it is unwise for foreigners to remain alone for too long
among the other prisoners. Since you are not Egyptian, we thought you might
wish to join us and share our food and wine."

Matt was shocked. "You
have wine in prison?"

Setari laughed. "It
is not an ordinary practice, I assure you. I am not that familiar with Egyptian
customs, but it seems that during the feast of Amen everyone is fed and
provided with wine each day in late afternoon. The rations were distributed
just before you arrived, so it will be a long time before another meal is
provided. Will you join us?"

"I have
nothing to offer in return," Matt warned. "I was robbed before the
soldiers arrested me."

"We do not
expect anything in return. Come, there is a spot of shade near the west
wall."

"Why are you
being kind to me?" Matt questioned. "I’ve found it to be an unusual
practice in this country."

"As I said,
we are strangers here ourselves, and there is safety in numbers."

Matt saw the
wisdom of the remark, and allowed
himself
to loosen up
a little as he followed them to the shady area along the far wall. After they
sat down, Setari produced a small wine skin and some bread and dates. Matt took
the skin and drank a small swallow of the spicy liquid. There was no doubt it
was wine, and the taste was not at all unpleasant. He felt its warmth spread
down his throat and into his stomach. He passed it to Zimi and took some of the
bread. He tore off a piece and popped it into his mouth. It was relatively
fresh and had a gritty texture. He knew this was because the Egyptians used
stones to grind the grain, and some of the sandy particles came off in the
flour. He chewed for a while then took the wine skin and washed it down. This
time he took a larger swallow.

"Where is
your home?" asked Setari for the second time.

"America,"
Matt answered. He knew Setari would have no knowledge of such a place, so it
was safe to use it. He took another sip from the skin.

"America,"
Setari pondered the name. "I do not know it. It must be from beyond the
great sea to the north. I have heard tales of men with hair the color of yours
who come from the north where there is something called
ice
on the mountaintops. Does America lie in that region?"

"Yes, but
further west." Matt was beginning to feel the wine. It was like balm to
his sore body. "Do you know where Ireland is?"

Setari considered
that for a few seconds before he answered. "I am afraid that I do not know
that country either," he finally said.

"Too bad. It's
a nice place. America is just west of there."

"Well, it is
of no consequence at the moment. Perhaps I shall visit there someday, but for
the foreseeable future none of us are going anywhere."

"You said you
were sentenced after two days?"

"Yes, all of
us were taken before the magistrate at the same time. That was three days
ago."

"What was
your crime?"

"We were
accused of stealing."

"Accused?"

"We journeyed
here from Libya to sell fine cloth during the festival. Our booth was one of
many along the Avenue of the Sphinxes. One afternoon an Egyptian noble and his
lady came to our booth. They were accompanied by a number of slaves. After
bargaining with us, he and his lady purchased several bolts of our cloth for an
agreed upon price. His slaves took the cloth and immediately departed with it. After
they were gone he claimed he was overcharged and attempted to pay us less. When
we objected and demanded the balance of the money, he called the city guards
and had us arrested. We were charged with attempting to swindle an Egyptian
official and brought here for trial. Though we explained to the magistrate what
had happened, he still found us guilty and sentenced us to two years in the
quarries. It seems that foreigners can expect very little fairness in Egypt.”

"Yes. I've
seen a little of that myself," Matt sympathized. "Your problem is
that you don’t belong to the local country club."

"Country
club?"

"Never mind. It
just means you don’t know the right people."

"What are you
charged with?" asked Zimi.

"Spying, I
think."

"That is a
very serious charge. In our country spies are put to death if they are found
guilty."

"I don't
intend to be here for the trial."

Setari shook his
head and looked glum. "I am afraid there is no way out. But even if there
were, you would be recaptured before you could leave the city."