Suzanne Robinson (15 page)

“Suitor?” The count stared at her. His frown made him even more formidable.

Seth tossed the knife onto a table and knelt in front of her. Resting his weight on the backs of his heels, he put a finger over her mouth.

“Begin again.” He scowled. “Tell it from the start.”

“You won’t believe me,” Anqet said in protest.

“My sweet one, you don’t have much choice.” Seth took her hand. “And I have no choice at all. I must have the truth from you. Many lives depend upon the secrecy of my activities. If you’ve jeopardized that secrecy, I’ll know of it.”

The man was obnoxious and domineering, and she hated the way he gave her orders in that gentle voice with that air of quiet certainty that he would be obeyed.

“I suppose telling you about myself can’t get me into any worse trouble than I’m in already,” Anqet said.

Seth grinned at her, but when she started talking, he listened without comment. He nodded and squeezed her hand at the mention of her parents’ deaths. By the time she got to Hauron’s attempted rape, both Anqet’s hands were in his. She stuttered to a halt, unable to describe Hauron’s lust-bloated face and invading hands to this man who might well treat her as her uncle had. Anqet lowered her head and wished she could burrow into a deep hole, away from those mocking eyes.

“Did he rape you?”

The question was voiced in a calm, matter-of-fact tone that startled her out of her misery. She looked up to find Seth’s eyes on her How strange that she should find honest sympathy there instead of derision.

“No,” Anqet said. She cleared her throat. “I fought him.” She frowned. “I think he’ll still be able to father children.”

“Still be able to father children. Bareka! You have the courage of twenty warriors, little singer.”

Anqet peered at the count, sure that he was making fun of her Seth regarded her seriously and bade her finish the tale.

She decided to edit the latter part of her story. No use letting him know about all the times she’d spied on him. She spoke only of the latest, disastrous eavesdropping.

“So I know all about your plans to help rob tombs, my lord count. If I hadn’t been careless, I would be exposing you to the high priest of Amun-Ra at this moment.” Anqet shook his hands off and looked down her small nose at him.

“By the myriad gods of Egypt, I do believe you would be,” Seth said. He gazed at her admiringly. “What I don’t understand is why. Is your soul that honorable?”

Anqet jumped to her feet. She stood over Seth.
“What would you know of honor? You scoff at the laws and ways of the Two Lands even as you bask in the friendship of the Golden Horus Tutankhamun. How could you betray Pharaoh, who trusts you? Even I can see that the living god has a great love for you. You defile him by using that love as a shield behind which you hide and thieve and corrupt the honorable to the destruction of his peace.” Seth tried to interrupt, but her rage swept over his words. “And as to why I should concern myself with tomb robbing, I couldn’t stand by and let such a sin go unchecked. How would I feel if someone desecrated my parents’ tomb? Did I tell you Hauron threatened to do just that?”

Anqet poked a finger at Seth.

“You, my lord, are cast of the same metal as my uncle. Both would take from me what should be given freely and shared. You would as cheerfully deprive my parents of eternal life. You disgust me.”

Seth stared at the angry young woman in front of him. He’d thrown his most seductive lures to her, and she declared that he disgusted her. His eyes absorbed the sight of her—the flush that spread from her cheeks to her chest, her glittering eyes and erect posture, her look of contempt. It was true; she didn’t want him. She didn’t like him.

Seth looked away from Anqet and pressed his lips together until they hurt. He felt himself at the mercy of a new emotion. Unidentifiable, it started a small inferno in his chest and stayed there, baking his reason, his intellect, and his anger This young girl with her innocence, her forthright honor, and large-eyed beauty—what had she done to him? He’d known her but a fortnight. Why did he suddenly value her opinion of him? He hadn’t cared what women thought of him since—since he’d broken his betrothal.

Scorpions take the girl! He wasn’t letting anyone devil him so. His parents had tortured him like this, torn him apart with their demands that he love one more than the other, obey one and not the other, live for one and deny
the other. He would make this scornful enchantress resume her proper role. He would not care. She had no right to make him care.

Seth smiled his lazy, hot smile and began a slow, sensuous walk toward her “Your anger excites me. Were you Gasantra, I would say you lose your temper deliberately.”

He was beside her in three steps, catching her shoulders from behind, whispering in her ear, drawing her close. He could feel her soft buttocks move against his loins. The throbbing ache caught him by surprise and made him grind his teeth together.

Impatient, nerves strained, he turned Anqet in his arms and forced a savage kiss on the girl. Grasping her buttocks, he pressed her against his hips. From a long way off he heard wordless protests. He ignored them and concentrated on exploring the girl’s mouth. He would have her passion. He would make her want him again. Bracing Anqet with one arm, Seth placed his hand on her breast. He lifted his mouth and spoke against her lips.

“You are named for a goddess of fertility. We’ll see just how fertile you can be.”

It was as if the girl had turned to cedar. All the softness was gone. Seth raised his head. Loathing had replaced desire in those dark eyes. He dropped his arms, and for the first time in his life, experienced the fear that a woman might not want him, that this woman might come to hate him. That fear was quickly masked and denied. It would have remained unacknowledged if Anqet hadn’t dug it up for him.

“My lord Seth,” the girl said in an expressionless voice, “you may try to force me, but I promise you by my twin souls that I will not have it so.” She pointed at him. “Remember To have me you must make yourself vulnerable, and this time I won’t promise that afterwards you’ll be able to father children.”

Anqet stalked out of the room, leaving Seth to stand by himself like some forgotten pylon in the desert. He stood there fuming until Dega returned from his errands.

*    *    *

Anqet sat on the lid of the rectangular wickerwork box in the middle of Kakemour’s storeroom.

“This is ridiculous,” Anqet said. “I won’t do it. I wont go, especially like this.”

Dega looked unhappy but determined. “Please, Lady Anqet.”

“How do you know my title?”

“The commander mentioned your circumstances. My lady, this is the best way to get you to the docks in safety. Lord Merab is still looking for you. Count Seth has decided to take you to Annu-Rest where you won’t be found.” Dega stepped closer to Anqet. His voice held a kind, sympathetic note. “I am sorry, but you must go.”

Anqet clenched her fists, aware of how powerless she was. She mustn’t let Lord Dega see her fear.

“No. I’ll be even more at his mercy at his estate.” Her own words sent her tumbling into outrage. “You expect me to consent to my own debauching by that—that dissipated vandal! There’s nothing he wouldn’t do. After all, he murdered his own mother’s ka.”

Dega paled. Anqet watched the young man’s eyes erupt with demon-fire. At once she realized that Dega could be as dangerous as Seth. The count’s equerry favored her with silent scrutiny, then addressed her in a deadly quiet voice.

“Did it ever occur to you that if Lord Seth was as depraved as you say he is, he would have forced you long ago? Even that first day, when you ran in front of his chariot, he could have kept you. Had he been willing to hurt you, he would have knocked you out and taken you to a place where he could use you at will. Do you really think anyone can stop Seth if he wants something?”

Anqet looked at him, silent and confused.

“Consider this, lady. Does a criminal, a murderer, and a libertine risk his own life saving a foolish girl who, through her misplaced curiosity, jeopardizes his most important affairs and even himself? Does an evil man spend days in a distracted love frenzy because of a woman he has seen only once and cannot find again?”

“Love frenzy?” Anqet blinked in disbelief. She was about to ask about this frenzy, but Dega took a seat beside her and plunged on.

“Lady Anqet, I’ve known Seth since we were boys being raised at court. We’ve served together under General Horemheb since the days of the heretic. I’ve seen him hunger after many women. I have seen many women at court hunt him. Never in all this time have I seen him denied. Until now. You bewilder him.”

Anqet tossed her head. She hitched one leg over the corner of the wicker box. “I bewilder him because I won’t submit and be grateful for his attentions.”

“I never said Seth didn’t need instruction in humility.” Dega smiled at her.

She laughed. “You would have me believe him to be misunderstood, a noble heart concealed behind a mask of licentiousness and corruption.”

“I would have you know Seth for what he is.”

“Why?” Anqet asked.

Dega stood up. “I’ve already said enough to make Seth put me to the whip.” He gestured to the crate where Anqet perched.

Anqet found herself packed away like a sack of lettuces and hauled through the dark streets of Thebes by Lord Dega’s bearers. The crate tilted, then leveled. When one of the men stumbled, she banged her head and was thrown from side to side until the trip ended with a jolt.

The lid of the crate flew open, and Anqet popped up, weary and light-headed. She lifted one leg over the edge of the box, her skirt raised, baring her leg almost to her hip. Count Seth stood waiting, in full court dress, eyes alight with amusement and appreciation. Anqet yanked her dress down, removed herself from the container, and scowled at Dega.

“As much nobility as a jackal,” she said.

Leaving Dega to explain her remark, Anqet stalked to a place near the prow of Count Seth’s galley. Depression came upon her as she realized she would soon be farther than ever from Lord Menana and home. For all she knew,
Hauron had already carried out his threat to sell Nefer and desecrate her parents’ tomb. Even now, Bastis, Nebre, and all her people could be homeless, her parents’ kas abandoned to wander the desert in torment.

Anqet balled her fists and stepped close to the ship’s railing. The water lapped rhythmically against the side of the galley. The gentle slap of the waves reminded her of the time she and her mother had taken a skiff to gather lotus blossoms in the marshes near Nefer. They took meat, fresh bread, and wine, and floated lazily among the high reeds. They made a game of trying to find as many pintail ducks as they could. She had fallen asleep in her mother’s lap, to the calls of waterfowl and the creak of the skiff rocking on the water.

Anqet tried to fight back tears. They came anyway, so she covered her eyes to hide them from any curious sailors who might be watching. A light touch on her shoulder pulled her from her misery.

“My lady’s quarters await her,” Seth announced, with a too-gallant flourish. “I regret there are no handmaidens to attend you.”

But when he saw her, his voice faltered, and he gripped her sagging shoulders.

“Little singer, what’s wrong?”

That softly voiced question and the strong arms around her robbed Anqet of the last of her reserve. Sheltering her face with both hands, she wept. A hard knot of pain formed at the base of her throat as she tried to swallow the grief. It was no use. All the terror and isolation of the previous night returned and fed her distress. Seth gathered her in his arms, and as if she had sought comfort there all her life, she buried her face in the smooth angle between his neck and shoulder and sobbed while he stroked her hair and murmured words of solace and endearment.

The steady hand at the back of her head, the strong arms and tender voice, brought forth an elemental sense of asylum, of a sturdy male sanctuary, impregnable and built specially for her. In all the time since she’d run from Hauron, Anqet had found no one capable of such a feat,
yet Seth was holding her, giving comfort in a way she would never have thought possible for him. Could she have been wrong about him? No. She had witnessed his baseness only the night before last. It wasn’t right that she felt so safe with him when she knew what he was

Confused, Anqet was barely aware that Seth had led her inside the cabin amidships. They faced each other in a room filled with portable furniture. Seth’s clothing lay strewn across a folding bed. A gold-and-amethyst broad collar lay draped over the lip of a jewel casket. Anqet snuffled and wiped at her flushed face.

Seth regarded her with a look she now knew, thanks to Dega, to be complete bewilderment. His brow wrinkled, he tilted his head to one side and frowned in a way that Anqet somehow knew was the sign of intense internal dialogue. After a moment, Seth turned and vanished, only to return with a damp cloth that he dabbed tentatively on her face.

“What’s wrong, sweet one?”

She hiccupped and took the rag from him.

“I’m worried about my people. If Hauron turns them out of Nefer, I don’t know where they’ll go. Nebre and Bastis aren’t young. Who would employ them? The tenants and laborers will go hungry. You don’t know Hauron. When he drinks, he becomes possessed, and he drinks most of the time. He might take out his anger with me on them—or on my parents’ tomb.” Anqet cast a glance full of misery at Seth. “I don’t suppose that means much to you,”

Seth gave a sigh. He led her to a corner filled with cushions and seated her “Why do you think me incapable of sympathizing with your grief?” He touched her arm with the tips of his fingers. He leaned toward her He kissed her forehead.

“How can I expect sympathy from you after all that’s happened between us? You torment me.” She rushed on without thought. “And how can I trust you? You murdered your own mother’s ka.”

She hadn’t thought it possible for a face to resemble a blank sheet of papyrus. Seth didn’t move. He said nothing.
As if he were a mural painter, he smoothed a layer of plaster over his features that concealed every emotion, and then, in a fluid motion, Seth moved away from her. The light from a lamp turned the brown of his skin a golden hue. Anqet watched the angular planes of his face tighten. The color of his eyes deepened until it glowed like the green flame produced by melting copper.