Journey to the Lost Tomb (Rowan and Ella Book 2) (34 page)

           
“But
if it doesn’t,” Halima said, “he will be generously rewarded.”

           
“And
if it kills us?”

           
“He
will pay with his life. A man like Horus would welcome such a trial. To succeed
would erase his shame. His arrogance will not entertain failure.”

           
“Take
me back, Halima,” Ella said, her knees shaking. She reached for Halima’ arm and
her friend pulled her to her feet.

           
“I
didn’t want to tell you,” Halima said.

           
“You
must leave tonight, Halima.”

           
“Ella,
no…”

           
“You
promised
. I can’t do what I must do
if I know you will be punished for my actions. I am begging you to go
tonight
.”

           
Halima
put her arm around Ella. Her hand brushed the tattoo on the inside of Ella’s
arm reminding Ella that it was there. “I will go,” she said, her voice full of
emotion. “But I will be with you, too.”

           
The
plan was simple. If she had learned anything from Rowan while they were
fighting for their lives in Heidelberg it was to keep the plan as uncomplicated
as possible. The fewer pieces to manage were fewer pieces to fail or go wrong.
Ella had watched Horus long enough to know his one great weakness was his
vanity. She knew she would have to emotionally disarm him—even if just
for a moment—in order to get the best of him and that wouldn’t be done by
showing him fear as all his other victims had done. No, Horus saw himself as an
attractive man, a man irresistible to women—even though he usually forced
himself on them. Ella ground up the pills that Halima had given her and made a
thin paste with them. She didn’t need to kill him. She just needed to make sure
that he fell solidly to sleep and stayed that way for several hours. That
evening, when Halima brought her dinner to her, Ella liberally coated the roast
chicken and the chickpeas with the thick paste.

           
“He
won’t eat it,” Halima said, frowning as Ella prepared the dish.

           
“Yes,
he will,” Ella said. “Because I am going to seduce him into it.”

           
“Seduce
him?”

           
“I’ve
seen it before, Halima,” Ella said. “Men like Horus become malleable when you
flatter them. No one flatters Horus because they fear him.”

           
“With
good reason.”

           
“Yes,
of course, but it means he is vulnerable to a woman’s praise. He’s a man, Halima.
Trust me, if he has balls, he will fall for this. There is nothing more
alluring for a man than a woman who wants him. I’m thinking even more than rape.
And since he’s done the one many times and likely the other
never
, he is primed.”

           
“I
pray you are right.”

           
When
Ella sprinkled a healthy dose of the crushed pills into a goblet of wine, Halima
shook her head. “Horus is Muslim,” she said. “He will not drink the wine.”

           
“Horus
is
nothing
, Halima,” Ella said.
“He’ll drink it.” Then Ella turned to Halima and took her hands in her own.
“It’s time,” she said.

           
“I
know.”

           
“I
will never forget you. I want you to know that.”

           
“Nor
me you, dearest one.”

           
They
embraced. “I love you, Halima,” Ella said, biting back her tears. She pulled
back. “Go, now,” she said.

           
With
one tearful look over her shoulder, Halima ran from the room and slipped out
the door. Ella watched her go, her heart heavy in her breast knowing she would
never see her again, but she was relieved, too, because Horus and Zimmerman
could not reach Halima now.

           
Ella
knew exactly how long she would have to wait. Typically, after Halima delivered
the evening meal, she would leave and then return to take the tray and ready
Ella for bed. Ella gauged that would be in another hour. Ella would wait and
then go out into the hall as if looking for Halima. She hated to cut any time
off her friend’s head start but leaving the room was the single thing that
would trigger Horus to come to her. She couldn’t wait for him to pick the time.
That much she knew. She would force his hand and it would be on
her
time line.
 

           
Suddenly,
there was a light knock on her door. Frowning, Ella went to the door and stood
in front of it, listening. She thought she could hear breathing.
Was it Horus? He wasn’t really the door
knocking type
. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. Harald Zimmerman stood
waiting, a smile on his thin lips.

           
“
Gute Nacht, mein Liebling,”
the doctor
said, gently pushing past Ella and entering the room.

           
Surprised
and unsure, Ella followed him to the table where her uneaten dinner sat next to
her wine goblet.

           
“I
see you have not eaten your dinner tonight,” he said easily, leaning back in
the chair and lighting a cigarette. “I also see that you have your wits about
you. I must have a word with Halima about that.”

           
She had forgotten to act muddled!
And
now he was watching her with a careful scrutiny.
Was it too late to pretend to be drugged?
She glanced around the
room as if attempting to gather her thoughts.

           
“Perhaps
it is just as well,” the Herr Doctor said, dragging heavily on his cigarette.

           
Ella
seated herself at the table, cursing herself for being thrown by the change of
events.
Did he know that Halima was gone?
Where is Horus? Why is he here?

           
“We
have a little trouble, you and I,” he said, eyeing her critically. “I have, I
think, a very good answer for how to resolve it but only tonight will reveal if
that is true.”

           
Ella
forced herself not to speak. Although he clearly thought she was no longer
drugged, she needed to allow some room for doubt depending on what she might
need to do.

           
“Your
new master is coming for you,” he said. “He is very eager to meet you and to
enjoy the, shall we say, fleshly pleasures of his new possession? As soon as
possible. Can you guess what impedes him in his desire?”

           
Ella
kept her face impassive.

           
“Now,
I am not a surgeon,” he said, grinding out his cigarette in her dinner plate,
putting an end to any thoughts Ella had about offering him a bite, “but I do
know a few ways in which we might induce labor.” He waved to Ella’s stomach.
“You are ready for an end to this, too,
ja
?”

           
Holy crap. He’s going to try to rape me,
she thought.
The good doctor is a
disgusting perv after all.

 
          
“I’m
going to try my way,
liebling
,” he
said, standing and unbuttoning his vest. “I’m going to ride you hard and if,
together, we are successful, there will be no need for Horus to try his methods.
I assure you, my way will be much more pleasant. You understand me, I think?”

           
Ella
nodded.

           
“Very
good. Very good. Now, take your clothes off, my dear. That’s a good girl.”

           
Ella’s
hands shook as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse.

           
Think,
Ella. Think!

           
She
carefully peeled down her long, thickly embroidered tunic to her waist. She
knew he was watching her and she was very aware of how vulnerable she must look.
Her breasts, large even when she wasn’t pregnant, were heavy and full. The
chill of the evening air made her nipples stand up. As she began to push the
tunic down over her large stomach and hips, she looked desperately around the
room for some idea of how to foil the doctor’s plans. Heavy breathing from his
direction made her glance at him and she saw that he was indeed watching her
and massaging the front of his trousers in an attempt to ready himself for her.
She felt a wave of nausea as she saw him standing there, his tongue flicking
out of his mouth like a lizard fixated on its prey.

           
She was the prey
.

Turning away, her
eyes went to the poisoned plate of dinner with the cigarette stubbed out in it,
and the goblet of wine next to it.

           
“Are
you ready, my dear?” The doctor croaked, his voice agitated and thick as he
rubbed himself.

           
Her
gaze continued on to the bed, the curtains, and the ornately carved side table with
the little pot of scented unguent that Halima had applied to Ella’s healing
tattoo. It was a pretty china dish with hand-painted roses on the lid.

 
Full of deadly
poison.

           
“Nearly,”
she said as she walked naked to the bed. She could hear him moving toward her
as she reached the pot. She flicked off the lid, and plunged a finger inside
just as she felt his hand wrap around her arm and jerk her away from the bed.
She stumbled against him as he lifted her off her feet. Surprised at his
strength, she allowed him to settle her on his lap facing him, her legs on
either side and her large belly between them.

           
“I
am ready
now
, my sweet,” he said,
bringing his face menacingly close to hers.

           
Pushing
back, Ella grabbed both her breasts as if to offer them up to him. “How about a
little appetizer,
herr doctor
?” she
asked in her best coquettish affect. She was sure he would hear the tremor in
her voice and see through her pathetic attempt to play the seductress.

But he didn’t.

           
Without
a word, he bent his head and began to hungrily suckle her swollen breasts. His
lips were large and flaccid and the pain of having her breasts sucked so
roughly made her gasp.

Squeezing her
eyes shut against the sensation of what he is doing to her, she tried to imagine
it was an elbow or a kneecap his mouth was latched onto—not her
overly-sensitive breasts. She looked over his shoulder at the sunset out the
window and tried to separate herself from what he was doing, his tongue noisily
lapping and sucking her aureoles.

And she prayed.
She prayed to God and anyone else who would listen that she had gotten enough
of the salve onto her breasts in the split second before the doctor had fallen upon
her. She felt her lunch inch its way up her throat and prayed, too, that she wouldn’t
vomit on him before the poison had a chance to work. And just when she was sure
she had failed and was on the verge of gouging his eyes out with her bare
fingers, without warning he dropped his hands from her hips and his head lolled
heavily against her chest.

She pushed
against him in order to jump from his lap and he landed with a thud on his
side, taking the heavy chair with him. She stood next to him, her knees
quivering and threatening to give out altogether, and stared him. He groaned
loudly from where he lay on the carpet. Carefully, with trembling fingers, she knelt
by his twitching body and slipped his knife from his waist sheath, then rocked
back on her heels, breathless at what she had done.

Had he ingested enough to disable him long enough for her to
escape?
She twisted
around to look at the little china tub of poison and then back at her attacker,
convulsing quietly on the floor.

As she sat there,
trembling and trying to steady herself, she knew that she had to gamble on the
side of certainty. She had to give him enough to kill him because she couldn’t
take the chance that she would give him too little. She stood and walked to the
bed where she pulled on her robe and reached for the salve.
Forgive me
, she thought as she walked
back to where he lay on the carpet.

It’s you or Tater.

           
She
scooped two fingers into the unguent, knelt by the doctor and spread the goo
over his nose. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be fighting hard for
breath. As she watched him die, she wiped her fingers on his shirt and then
struggled to her feet. When she placed her hand on her abdomen, she felt the
baby kick hard.

Time to go.

Because of the
doctor’s visit, Ella knew that there was a good chance that Horus might
not
be loitering outside her door as he
normally did. She prayed she was right. She pulled on her silk tunic and
slippers and hid the doctor’s knife up her sleeve, her glance falling briefly
on the tattoo on her arm as she did. The faint lines, spelling out the words
for her phonetically by Halima, danced up her arm in a marching army of
pictures and letters from her wrist to her elbow. Halima had made her promise never
to read the words out loud unless it was a matter of life or death.