“No?” Emerson’s brows drew together. “I see. Your medical kit, Peabody ?”

“Close the door behind you,” I said. “And for the love of God don’t wake any of the servants!”

I drew Ramses’s knife from its sheath and began to cut away the crude bandage. He lay still, watching me with an understandable air of apprehension. The knife was very large and very sharp.

“Goodness, what a mess you’ve made of this,” I said.

“I was in something of a hurry.”

I paused for a moment in what was admittedly a delicate operation, and looked more closely at his face. When I ran my fingertip along his jaw it encountered several slightly sticky patches. “What happened to the beard and the turban, and the other elements of your disguise?”

“I don’t remember. I was in the water at one time…” He stiffened as I slid the point of the knife under the next layer of cloth, and then he said, “How did you find out?”

“That you have been engaged in some sort of secret service work? Not from any slip on your part, if that is what is worrying you. I knew you would not shirk your duty, however dangerous and distasteful it might be.”

The corners of Ramses’s lips tightened. He turned his head away. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I am trying not to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me. But you will have to, you know. I daren’t risk allowing a doctor to treat what is obviously a bullet wound.”

“These injuries were not made by a bullet,” I said, flinching as another fold of cloth parted, to display a row of ragged gashes just above his collarbone.

Ramses squinted, trying to see down the length of his nose and chin. “Not those, no,” he said.

“Curse it,” I muttered, cutting away the last of the cloth. There was unfortunately no doubt about the nature of the bloody hole in his upper arm. “Where were you tonight?”

“I was supposed to have been at the bar at Shepheard’s. The habituйs only snub people they dislike, they don’t shoot at them.”

“You might have been attacked on your way home, by a thief.”

“You know better than—” His breath caught painfully, and Seshat put a peremptory paw on my hand. Her claws were out just enough to prick the skin.

“Sorry,” I said—to the cat.

“It’s all right,” said Ramses—to the cat. “That story won’t wash, Mother.”

“No,” I admitted. “ Cairo thieves don’t carry firearms. The only people who do… Are you telling me you were shot by a policeman or a soldier? Why, for heaven’s sake?”

Before I could pursue my inquiries Emerson came back carrying my medical kit and, I was pleased to note, wearing his trousers. Between us we got Ramses out of his filthy garments and into bed, removing from it the heaped-up pillows and black wig. Emerson filled a basin with water from the jug, and I began cleaning the injuries.

“Could be worse,” Emerson announced, though his grave look belied his optimistic words. “How far away were you when the shot was fired?”

“As far as I could get,” said Ramses, with a faint grin. “It was pure bad luck that—”

He broke off, sinking his teeth into his lower lip as the alcohol-soaked cloth touched one of the ragged cuts, and I said sharply, “Stop trying to be heroic. Ramses, I don’t like the look of this. The bullet has gone straight through the fleshy part of your arm, but it must have scraped another surface immediately afterward. You appear to have been struck by several fragments of stone. One is rather deeply imbedded. If Nefret is not already on her way home we can send for her. I would rather leave this to her.”

“No, Mother! Nefret mustn’t know of this.”

“Surely you don’t think she would betray your secret!” I exclaimed with equal vehemence. “Nefret?”

“Mother, will you please try to get it into your head… I’m sorry! But this isn’t one of our usual family encounters with criminals. Do you suppose I don’t trust you and Father? I wouldn’t have told you either. I wasn’t allowed. This job is part of a larger game. The Great Game, some call it… What an ironic name for a business that demands deceit, assassination, murder, and betrayal of every principle we’ve been taught is right! Well, I won’t kill except in self-defense, no matter what they say, but I swore to follow the other rules of the game, and the most important of them is that without permission from my superiors I cannot involve anyone else! The more you know, the greater the danger to you. I shouldn’t have come home tonight, I should have gone—”

He stopped with a sharp catch of breath, and Emerson, who had been watching him with furrowed brows, put a hand on his perspiring forehead.

“It’s all right, my boy, don’t talk anymore. I understand.”

“Thank you, Father. I suppose it was Seshat who gave me away?”

“Yes,” I said. “Thank God she did! But how do you plan to explain to Nefret why you are bedridden tomorrow?”

Ramses’s lips set in a stubborn line. “I’ll be at the dig tomorrow as usual. No, Mother, please don’t argue, I haven’t the energy to explain. Can’t you just take my word for once that this is necessary, and get on with it?”

He fainted eventually, but not as soon as I would have liked.

Chapter 4

After I had extracted the last fragment of stone I handed it to Emerson, who wiped it off with a bit of gauze and examined it intently. “No clue there, it’s just a bit of ordinary limestone. Where was he tonight?”

“He wouldn’t tell me.”

“We’ll have to get it out of him somehow,” Emerson said. “But not now. Shall I do that, my dear?”

“No, I can manage. Lift his arm—gently, if you please.”

By the time I finished bandaging the injuries, Ramses had regained consciousness. “The novocaine will wear off before long,” I said. “Would you rather have laudanum or some of Nefret’s morphine? I think I can get the needle into a vein.”

“No, thank you,” Ramses said, feebly but decidedly.

“You must have something for pain.”

“Brandy will do.”

I doubted it very much, but I could hardly pinch his nose and pour the laudanum down his throat. I prepared the brandy and Emerson helped him to sit up. He had just taken the glass in his hand when I heard footsteps in the hall outside.

“Hell and damnation!” I ejaculated, for I knew those light, quick steps. “Emerson, did you lock the—”

The haste with which he sprinted for the door made it evident that he had neglected to do so. Emerson can move like a panther when it is required, but this time he was too slow. However, he managed to get behind the door as it was flung open.

Nefret stood in the doorway. In the light from the corridor her form glimmered like that of a fairy princess, the gems in her hair and on her arms sparkling, the chiffon skirts of her gown surrounding her like mist. I had just presence of mind enough to kick the ugly evidence of our activities under the bed. The smell of blood and antiseptic was overcome by a strong reek of brandy. Ramses had slid down so that the sheet covered him clear to his chin, except for the arm that held the glass. Half the contents had spilled onto the sheet.

“How kind of you to drop in,” he said, with a curl of his lip. “You missed Mother’s lecture on the evils of drink, but you’re just in time to hold the basin while I throw up.”

She stood so still that not even the gems on her hands twinkled. Then she turned and vanished from sight.

Not until we had heard her door close did any of us move. Emerson shut Ramses’s door and turned the key. Ramses tipped the rest of the brandy down his throat and let his head fall back against the pillow. “Thank you, Mother,” he said. “There’s no need for you to stay. Go to bed.”

I ignored the suggestion, as he must have known I would. Indicating the basin and the stained cloths that filled it, I said, “Dispose of this, Emerson—I leave it to you to find a safe hiding place. Then make the rounds and—”