The Falcon at the Portal: An Amelia Peabody Mystery (56 page)

"That was a serious miscalculation on his part."

"And perhaps on Percy's. Not that it mattered to him; he didn't care what happened to Sennia, his aim was to shame me in front of Mother and Father, and Nefret. He knew what she thought of men who use women like Rashida; the morning we ran into him in el Was'a she ... You know about that, don't you? Nefret must have written Lia."

David nodded. He avoided his friend's eyes, though, and Ramses said, "What else did she tell Lia?"

"Well—uh—quite a number of things. Go on, Ramses, I'll stop you if you—uh—cover ground that is already familiar to me."

"Did Nefret mention to Lia that Percy had been after her? Yes, of course, she would. She never admitted it to
me
—she always thinks she can deal with everything single-handedly—but there must have been several encounters."

"She may not have told you about them because she was afraid of what you would do," David murmured.

"Possibly. Anyhow, what brought matters to a head was the day I came home and found Percy with Nefret." He was watching David closely, and he knew his friend too well to miss the signs of self-consciousness. "Do stop me if this is familiar ground," he said gently.

David shook his head. He looked so miserable, Ramses took pity on him; divided loyalties were hellishly unpleasant, and David must have been sworn to secrecy by Lia. About what, though? Surely Nefret would not have confessed, even to her best friend, that she had given herself to a man she didn't love; surely Lia wouldn't repeat that painfully personal confidence, even to her husband...

At any rate
he
had no right to speak of it. Choosing his words with care, Ramses went on, "Well, there they were, you see. When I walked in he had hold of her and was trying to kiss her. It would have annoyed me a bit to see anyone forcing himself on any girl, but knowing what I knew about Percy's habits, I rather lost my head. I knocked him across the room, and then Nefret grabbed hold of me and hung on. It was the only way she could have stopped me from murdering the bastard, but he wouldn't have understood that. He assumed she and I were ..."

David waited for him to go on. Then he said, "That would be a logical deduction, wouldn't it?"

"To Percy it would. He doesn't understand friendship or disinterested affection. You can imagine the effect of that touching scene on a man so blindly vain and self-centered. He must have gone raging back to Kalaan and set up the encounter for the following day. It's a pity you missed it; this family is good at melodrama, and that was a stellar performance by all concerned."

David was not deceived by the mocking tone. "Tell me. If you can bring yourself to do so."

"Mother didn't give you a word-for-word account?" He couldn't keep up the pretense; reaching for a cigarette, he was ashamed to see that his hand was shaking. "David, she was wonderful. So was Father. They believed me. How in God's name they could I don't know! I must have looked guilty as hell when I saw Sennia, and Kalaan blandly announced she was my daughter. The resemblance was strong enough to carry conviction in itself, and then the little thing ran to me, holding out her arms and calling me Father, and I..." He tossed the unlit cigarette aside and hid his face in his hands. "I know how poor old cowardly Saint Peter must have felt," he said in a muffled voice.

David put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You denied she was your child? It was the truth."

"Yes, but she trusted me, you see, and I... At least I only denied her once." He passed his hand over his eyes and tried to smile. "Someday I may be able to forgive myself for that. Nefret never will. It was the denial, almost as much as the accusation, that made her despise me."

"But, my brother—"

"Just let me finish, please. I had to claim Sennia, to keep her from Kalaan; only a male relative could do that. Even then, Mother and Father never doubted me."

"But Nefret did. And you will never forgive
her
for that?"

Ramses did not reply. After a moment David said, "If she made a mistake she has paid dearly for it. There is a reason, perhaps, why it was harder for her than for your parents."

"I wouldn't know about that. She always told me I didn't understand women. There's no question of forgiveness; how could I blame her for anything when she's so unhappy? I'd tell her so if she would let me. I don't even blame her for not wanting to see me. In a way I was responsible for Geoffrey's death, and she loved him."

"I don't believe it," David said. "She was fond of him, she was sorry for him, she was furious with you. And Percy—"

"No, that's going too far." Ramses shook his head vehemently. "If Percy couldn't have her himself he might settle for the lesser satisfaction of keeping her from me, but there is no way he could have known Geoffrey had a chance with Nefret. None of us did."

"And what about Rashida's death?"

"You wondered too, did you?" Ramses got to his feet and began pacing. "I keep thinking I've plumbed the depths of Percy's swamp of a mind—sounds like Mother, doesn't it?—and I've been wrong every time. I didn't even realize he hated me so much, or that he would go to so much effort to damage me. The business with Sennia was weeks in the making; he must have begun planning it long before I found him with Nefret that afternoon. What put the idea into his head? Did something happen to set him off— something I don't know about?"

"Ramses. My brother..." David was on his feet, his hand outstretched, his face distorted by emotion.

"It's all right," Ramses said quickly. "Don't distress yourself. That was a rhetorical question; you cannot comprehend Percy's motives any more than I can." He went to the window and stood looking out. "The truth is, I'm afraid of him, David. He's got a mind so devious and dirty it's impossible for me to anticipate what he might do. However, I am taking no chances with Sennia. Kalaan wouldn't dare injure someone who is under Father's protection, but Percy..."

Her father. That word had a new and painful poignancy for him now, and not only because of the little girl who had given him the love her natural father didn't want or deserve. His mother's blunt announcement about Nefret's condition had literally knocked him off his feet. A blessing in disguise, she had called it.... I'll never know for certain, I suppose, Ramses thought. Perhaps it's better that way.

But he was glad David couldn't see his face.

I do not often trouble the Almighty with petitions, since I am sure there are others far more in need of supernatural assistance than I. I prayed that night, however, as I lay awake beside the sleeping form of my husband. His presence comforted me as it always does, but my aching heart demanded further reassurance—hope that the future would be brighter than the sad present.

There was no answer to my wordless request. But I soon fell asleep, and I dreamed.

"Well, Abdullah," I said. "You warned me of storms ahead.

If I had known how bad they would be, I might not have been able to face them. I don't know that I can face them now."

The rising sun illumined his handsome, hawklike features and the strong white teeth that shone in the blackness of his beard. "Do you remember the Snake, Sitt Hakim? He who stole Emerson away and kept him prisoner, so that we did not know whether he lived or not?"

"I remember. As I remember it was you who saved him, Abdullah."

"You did not lose heart then."

"Oh, but I did," I said, remembering the night I had wept uncontrollably, huddled on the floor with a towel pressed to my face so that no one would hear.

"And then you went to the window, and after your long night of weeping, you saw the dawn."

"So you know about that, too? Really, Abdullah, I am not sure I appreciate this omniscience of yours. Is there anything about me you don't know?"

"Very little." His black eyes shone with laughter.

"Hmmm. What can I do to help them?"

Abdullah shook his head. "How can a woman be so wise and yet so blind? It is well, perhaps, that you do not know everything. You would try to help, and you would blunder, Sitt. You are not always careful."

It was such a comfort to hear his old joking complaint and see the twinkle in his eyes. He took my hand in his; it was as warm and firm as that of a living man. "The worst of the storm is yet to come, Sitt. You will need all your courage to survive; but your heart will not fail you, and in the end the clouds will blow away and the falcon will fly through the portal of the dawn."