Chapter 23 – Up The Nile
Sir Randolph Varne awoke. He stretched and sat up, pushing back the pure Egyptian cotton sheets. A quick pull on the bell rope brought Jensen, his manservant, bearing a silver tray containing a silver tea set. Sir Randolph donned his silk dressing gown and moved languidly to the small breakfast table in his luxurious suite. As Jensen poured tea and arranged toast on a china plate, Sir Randolph gazed idly out the window at the western shore of the Nile slipping by as his yacht slowly moved upstream. In his mind he was not an English gentleman breakfasting on tea and buttered toast, but an Egyptian Pharaoh. Even as his fingers stroked down the black velvet lapels of the monogrammed dressing gown, he felt a white linen robe instead. The delicate china teacup seemed in his mind to be a golden goblet.
"Will that be all, sir?" Jensen inquired politely. He watched, dismayed, as Sir Randolph's eyes cleared briefly, then clouded up again. At Sir Randolph's curt nod, Jensen bowed briefly and exited the room. As he soundlessly closed the door behind him, Jensen allowed worry to appear on his usually impassive face. It was getting worse and worse. His employer was rapidly going mad. His mind spent less and less time in the present and more and more time in the past.
The cabin that Da'ud had booked them aboard the steamer headed up the Nile was reasonably sized, but with the three men inside it still seemed cramped. Ardeth stood brooding at the small porthole looking out at the river. The Nile flowed north, so anyone traveling south had to fight the current. The steamer wasn't making particularly good time, and the Arab warrior was restless. Even though they were traveling faster than the group could have gone on horseback, he still felt edgy. If he'd been traveling alone he could probably have done it, but although Rick was a decent rider, he wasn't nearly as good as Ardeth. As for Robert, well, the boat was a better option. Boats continued to move at night. Horses needed to rest. Even though he knew it was the right thing to do, he still disliked it. Sitting in a small room doing nothing was against his nature. He much preferred to be in the wide-open spaces of the desert, with the wind in his face.
"Looks like our friend fell asleep," Rick commented quietly. Ardeth turned and glanced at Robert Varne, who was stretched out on one of the bunks. Rick sat at a small table taking one of his guns apart to clean it. "So, care to tell me why we brought him along?"
"A number of reasons," Ardeth replied. "He may know where Varne would go, and he'd recognize the yacht right away. And as a worse case scenario, we might be able to trade him for the women, or at least for Evie," Ardeth said bitterly.
Rick glanced up from his gun. "You don't know that Varne has harmed Tia. Don't borrow trouble."
Each evening at dusk Sir Randolph's yacht, the Hathor, tied up on the bank. Promptly at 9:00 each night, dinner was served in the tastefully decorated salon. Jensen would escort Evie, wearing one of the expensive evening gowns procured for her use, to the dining room. She and Sir Randolph would sit down to an exquisitely cooked meal, accompanied by fine wines. They would eat off delicate china plates with expensive silver cutlery. The wines would be served in beautiful crystal goblets. She and Sir Randolph would discuss art, music and the theatre, at least on those occasions that it was actually Sir Randolph that Evie was talking to. Sometimes she found herself attempting to hold a conversation with Pharaoh Ramses the Great.
After one such evening, Evie waited patiently in the hall while Jensen unlocked the door of the stateroom she and Tia occupied. It was nearly midnight, but Tia was awake and reading in bed when she entered the room.
"How was dinner?" Tia asked.
Evie kicked off the designer satin pumps and sank down on the padded bench next to the closet that held the selection of evening gowns she'd been given. "Today he was Ramses." She ran her fingers through her hair. "God, it's creepy."
Tia grimaced in sympathy, pushed back the satin coverlet on the bed and set down her book. "Need help getting out of that dress?" She crossed the room toward Evie, who rose and turned so that Tia could undo the zipper. Since they'd been brought on board two days ago, Sir Randolph had completely ignored Tia's existence. He never mentioned her, and if Evie mentioned her, he ignored the remark as if she hadn't spoken. Neither woman was sure what this meant. On one hand, Tia wasn't at all displeased to be served a tray in her room rather than have to endure the formal dinners that Evie was subjected to. On the other, it seemed ominous.
"Did you find out where we are?" Tia asked as Evie shrugged out of the deep red silk gown.
"We're on the West Bank of Thebes." Evie said, hanging the dress in the closet.
"Thebes?" Tia questioned.
"Thebes," Evie confirmed. "I don't know why we're here, but Varne doesn't plan on moving on tomorrow. "
"Why the west bank?" Tia asked. "Isn't the city on the east bank?"
"Yes."
Tia sank back onto her bed and wrapped her arms around her legs. "I wish I knew where Ardeth and Rick are."
Evie put on a simple cotton nightdress. "You and me both."
Rick sat back on his bunk and rested his head on the wall. The enforced inactivity of the past two days on this boat was getting on his nerves. Too many thoughts of his wife and what might be happening to her were crowding his brain. Ardeth was twice as bad. He'd scarcely been capable of uttering a civil word for the past twelve hours, and was spending most of his time on deck glaring over the rail toward the shore. It left Rick to spend most of his time in the cabin keeping watch over Robert Varne. While it wasn't Rick's favorite job, it was better than making Ardeth do it. If Ardeth was having a hard time being civil to Rick, he wasn't even trying to be civil to Robert. Rick glanced at Robert, who was sitting on his own bunk staring morosely out the porthole. The Medjai warrior had the poor kid scared to death of him. Robert looked up to see Rick looking at him. "We'll be in Thebes tomorrow, right?"
"That's right," Rick replied. Robert said nothing more, so Rick took out a pack of cards and dealt himself a game of Solitaire. He was halfway through the game when Robert spoke again.
"That's probably where my father is," Robert admitted, looking down at his hands.
Rick cocked an eyebrow and put a red six on a black seven. "What makes you think so?"
Robert shrugged. "When he leaves Cairo and heads south he generally ends up in Thebes. He has a regular slip where he leaves the yacht, and he stays there while he's in the city."
Rick turned over three cards and frowned at the jack of spades. "Why are you being so helpful all of a sudden?" He played the jack on a red queen and looked up at Robert.
Robert flushed a bit, but met Rick's gaze. "I've been listening to the two of you talk. Is it true that he's kidnapped your wife?"
"We don't have any hard evidence," Rick admitted, "but we aren't really in any doubt. She was with Tia DeWitt when she was taken, and Varne has tried to kill Tia once already."
"Tia DeWitt?" Robert paled. "Why would my father try to kill Tia?"
Rick looked back at his cards. "You tell me."
Robert looked bewildered. "He didn't like her – said she wasn't good enough for me, but to try to kill her? You must be mistaken."
Rick gathered up the cards, shuffled and dealt himself another game. "Let me tell you a story."
Author's Notes:
Please don't be offended ephona! What I'm trying to do when I post a chapter is thank those people who reviewed since the last time I posted. Those people who review every so often instead of every time are still very much appreciated. I'm glad you're still reading.
Thanks for your first review, Liel, and don't worry about your English – it's just fine.
And thank you, lilylynn, for hanging with me!