The Seventh Scroll - Smith Wilbur - Страница 104

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She took the long road around the south side of the lake to avoid having

to pass the burnt-out villa; she did not wish to be reminded of that

night of horror on which Duraid had died there. It was therefore after

dark when she, returned to the city, and the family were relieved to see

her. Her brother-in-law walked three times around the Citron, checking

for damage to the paintwork, before ushering her into the house where

his wife had set a feast for them.

'an Abou Sin, the minister whom Royan had Come specifically to see, was

out of Cairo on an official visit to Paris. She had three days to wait

for his return, and because she knew that Nahoot Guddabi was no longer

in Cairo, she felt safe and able to spend much of that time at the

museum. She had many friends there, and they were delighted to see her

and to bring her up to date with all that had happened during the time

that she had been away.

The rest of the time she spent in the museum reading room, going over

the microfilm of the Taita scrolls, searching for any clues that she

might have missed in her previous readings. There was a section of the

second scroll which she read carefully and from which she made extensive

notes. Now that the prospect of finding the tomb of Pharaoh Mamose

intact had become real and credible, her interest in what that tomb

might contain had been stimulated.

The section of the scroll upon which she concentrated was a description

that the scribe, Taita, had given of a' royal visit by the Pharaoh to

the workshops of the necropolis, where his funerary treasure was being

manufactured and assembled within the walls of the great temple that he

had built for his own embalming. According to Taita they had visited the

separate workshops, first the armoury with its collection of

accoutrements of the battlefield and the chase, and then the furniture

workshop, home of exquisite workmanship. In the studio of the sculptors,

Taita.

described the work on the statues of the gods and the lifesized images

of the king in every different activity of his life that would line the

long causeway from the necropolis to the tomb in the Valley of the

Kings. In this.workshop the masons were also-hard at work on the massive

granite sarcophagus which would house the king's mummy over the ages.

However, according to Taita's later account history had cheated Pharaoh

Mamose of this part of his treasure, and all these heavy and unwieldy

items of stone had been abandoned and left behind in the Valley of the

Kings when the Egyptians fled south along the Nile to the land they

called Cush, to escape the Hyksos invasion that overwhelmed their

homeland.

As Royan turned with more attention to the scribe's description of the

studio of the goldsmiths, the phrase which he used to describe the

golden deathmask of the Pharaoh struck her forcibly. "This was the peak

and the zenith. All the Unborn ages might one day marvel at its

splen&ur." Royan looked up dreamily from the micro film and wondered if

those words of the ancient scribe were not prophetic. Was she destined

to be one of those who would marvel at the splendour of the golden

deathmask? Might she be, the first to do so in almost four thousand

years? Might she touch this wonder, take itup in her hands and at last

do with it as her conscience dictated?

Reading Taita's account left Royan with a sense of ancient suffering,

and a feeling of compassion for the people of those times. They were,

after all - no matter how far removed in time - her own people. As a

Coptic Egyptian, she was one of their direct descendants. Perhaps this

empathy was the main reason why, even as a child, she had originally

determined to make her life's work a study of these people and the old

ways.

However, she had much else to think of during those days of waiting for

the return of Atalan Abou Sin. Not least of these were her feelings for

Nicholas Quenton Harper. Since she had visited the little cemetery at

the oasis and made her peace with Duraid's memory, her thoughts of

Nicholas had'taken on a new poignancy. There was so much she was still

uncertain of, and there were so many difficult choices to make. It was

not possible to fulfill all her plans and desires without sacrificing

others almost equally demanding.

When at last the hour of her appointment to see Atalan came around, she

had difficulty bringing herself to go to him. Like somebody in a trance

she limped through the bazaars, using her stick to protect her injured

knee, hardly hearing the merchants calling their wares to her.

>From her skin tone and European clothing they presumed she must be a

tourist.

She hesitated so long over taking this irrevocable step that she was

almost an hour late for the appointment.

Fortunately this was Egypt, and Atalan was an Arab to whom time did not

have the same significance as it did to the Western part of Royan's

make-up.

He, was his usual urbane and charming self. Today, in the-privacy of his

own office, he was comfortably dressed in a white dishdasha and a

headcloth. He shook hands with her warmly. If this had been London he

might have kissed her cheek, but not here in the East where a man never

kissed any woman but his wife and then only in the privacy of their

home.

He led her through to his private sitting room, where his male secretary

served them small cups of tar-thick coffee and lingered to preserve the

propriety of this meeting. After an exchange of compliments and the

obligatory interval of polite small-talk, Royan could come obliquely to

the main reason for her visit.

"I have spent much of the last few days at the museum, working in the

reading room. I managed to see many of my old colleagues there, and I

was surprised to hear that Nahoot had withdrawn his application for the

post of director."

Atalan sighed, "My nephew is a headstrong boy at times. The job was his,

but at the very last moment he came to tell me that he had been offered

another in Germany. I tried to dissuade him. I told him that he would

not enjoy the northern climate after being brought up in the Nile

valley. I told him that there are many things in life such as country

and family that no amount of money can recompense. But-' Atalan spread

his hands in an eloquent gesture.

"So who have you chosen to fill the post of director?" she asked with an

innocence that did not deceive him.

"We have not yet made any permanent appointment.

Nobody automatically comes to mind, now that Nahoot has withdrawn.

Perhaps we will be forced to advertise internationally. I for one would

be very sad to see it go to a foreigner, no matter how well qualified."

our excellency, may I speak to you in private?" Royan asked, and glanced

significantly at the male secretary hovering at the doorway. Atalan

hesitated only a moment.

"Of course." He gestured to the secretary to leave the room, and when he

had withdrawn and closed the door behind him Atalan leaned towards her

and dropped his voice slightly. "What is it that you wish to discuss, my

dear lady?"

It was an hour later that Royan left him. He walked with her as far as

the lift outside his suite of offices.

As he shook hands his voice was low and mellifluous "We will meet again

soon, inshallah."

hen the Egyptair flight landed at Heath, row and Royan left the airport

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