Whispers in the Sand (53 page)

Louisa followed her into the saloon. “But Hassan is taking me ashore this afternoon to sketch the great temple of Rameses.” She gestured across the water towards the four giant figures, still half obscured by sand, carved from the living cliff face which dominated the shoreline.

Augusta sighed. “My dear, you have seen so many temples already. Enough for most people for a lifetime,” she said firmly. “Surely you can draw it from here, if you must take a likeness of those ugly, great brutes? You do not have to go ashore.”

“But I do!” Louisa felt a wave of panic sweep over her. Her longing to be alone with Hassan was overwhelming her.

“What’s this, what’s this?” Sir John strode into the saloon and stared round. “What is it you must do, Louisa my dear?”

“She wants to go and see that temple this afternoon,” Augusta answered for her. “I told her she couldn’t. We are turning for home.”

“No, no. We must see the temple before we go. This is one of the wonders of the world, Augusta, or if it isn’t, it should be. I shall go ashore with Louisa. Why don’t you come too, my dear?”

Augusta shuddered. “Indeed not. I have not been to visit any of these heathen places, and I do not intend to start now. I shall remain on the
Ibis
.”

“Well and good.” He nodded. “It will not take us long. I understand that in spite of there being so much sand heaped around it, one can go inside and see the great hall of pillars and the inner sanctuary of the gods. After we’ve done that, we’ll return and we’ll get the
reis
to make ready to sail as soon as we set foot on the boat. I understand it will take us a long time to travel north, even if we don’t stop along the way. The wind is likely to be against us much of the time, but at least we shall have the current in our favour.” He smiled at Louisa. “My dear, you are looking very serious. Does my plan not please you?”

Louisa shook her head. “I am sorry,” she blurted out. “I imagined I would have time to paint this afternoon. I had no idea you would want to come with us.”

He frowned. “Can you not make quick sketches, my dear? You have done so in the past. Then you will have as much time as you need to paint on board on our way back down the river.”

“I know that John will want to come back to me very soon, Louisa,” Augusta commented. She raised an eyebrow. “Should you wish to stay longer on the shore, I am sure that would be possible. Even if the
Ibis
sets off downriver, I feel certain you would have no trouble catching us up. These little feluccas seem to travel so much faster on the light winds than does a larger boat. You may have your few extra hours with—” She hesitated. “With your paintbrush and your muse.”

Louisa glanced at her gratefully, but Augusta was not looking at her. She had seated herself on a chair near the open door and was fanning herself vigorously.

They spent an hour inside the temple, looking at the carvings and peering over the piles of sand towards its as yet unexcavated corners, then Hassan rowed Sir John back to the
Ibis
, leaving Louisa alone sketching the four great heads of Rameses, peering from their sandy pall. When Hassan returned, he was alone, carrying a bag over his shoulder. “I have permission to escort you wherever you wish as long as we join the boat by dusk. They will be leaving soon, but the wind, all that there is, is against them. We shall catch them easily.” He smiled. Then he held out his hand. “Come. Pack up your painting. I want to show you the hills behind the temple.”

They soon lost sight of the river and the other boats moored along its bank. Here, in the fierce heat, they were totally alone. Hassan smiled at her. “I was talking to a dragoman from another dahabeeya. He told me of a secret entrance into the hill on the far side of the temple where we can find shelter from the sun and be alone.”

She stopped. They were both panting, and she could feel her skin sticky from the cooking heat. “This may be the last time.”

He shook his head. “No, there will be others. They cannot keep you a prisoner on the boat. When it is becalmed, then you and I can go on excursions once more.”

“But there is no chance to be alone at the temple sites.”

“There is always a chance, my Louisa. Always. We will make a chance.” He smiled at her and reached for her hand.

They found the dark entrance in the sandstone cliff without difficulty and stood peering in. “It’s like the Valley of the Tombs,” Louisa whispered. The sandy hills behind them were empty, save for a lone vulture circling high over-head.

He grinned at her and held out his hand. “Shall we explore?”

They stepped into the shadows, and Hassan dropped their belongings. He rummaged in the bag for a candle. “Do you want to see inside?”

She frowned uneasily and shook her head. “We don’t need to go any further in, do we? Let us stay here, near the light.”

He laughed. “Don’t tell me that my Louisa has had enough of the dark?”

She nodded. “Just for now. Let’s spread out the rug and sit down here. No one will see us unless they come right up to the rock face, and there is no one for miles.”

He shrugged and did as she bid, laying out the rug and reaching for the bag which contained fruit juice and water and leather travelling cups. Then he frowned. “What is this, my Louisa?”

“The scent bottle. I didn’t know where to hide it. Even your place on the boat seemed too obvious, and I could not get near it without being seen.”

Hassan shuddered. “It is accursed three times over, my Louisa. You should not touch it any more.”

“I know.” The little bottle was wrapped in silk, tied with a length of ribbon. She stared down at it as it lay in the palm of his hand. “So small a thing to have caused so much trouble.”

Behind them, in the darkness, something stirred. Neither noticed. They were both looking down at the small, beribboned parcel. “It was your present to me,” Louisa said with a shake of her head. “Right at the beginning.”

He nodded. “I loved you, my Louisa, the first moment I saw you. But you were an English lady and I a lowly guide.”

“Not lowly, Hassan. Why lowly?”

He shrugged. That is the way your people see mine, my Louisa.” He smiled. “And perhaps, if we are honest, the way my people see yours.
Inshallah!
”

The shadows in the cave were very dark. Behind them a passage led out of sight, deep into the heart of the hill.

“Whatever our peoples feel, you were my friend, and now you are my love.” She moved towards him, and their lips touched. Slowly they sank down onto the rug. With eyes only for each other, they did not see the sinuous movement on the rock-strewn sandy floor of the cave, nor hear the dry rustle of scales.

The snake was young, perhaps only four feet long, and capable of great speed. Ignoring Louisa, it went for the man who still held the scent bottle in his hand. As he felt the sudden, agonising pain of the venom-filled fangs, Hassan leapt to his feet and spun round. The scent bottle flew into the air and rolled to the edge of the rug. For a moment, he stared down at the wound on his arm near his shoulder, then he let out a cry of anguish, his face contorted with pain and grief as he stared at Louisa.

“Hassan!” She had seen the snake for only a second. Already it had slithered away out of sight amongst the rocks. “Hassan, what shall I do?” She clung to him. “Tell me quickly! What shall I do?”

His face had gone grey. A sheen of clammy sweat broke out on his skin. He was staring at her, his expression suddenly concentrated, his eyes fixed on hers as he gasped for breath, clutching at his chest.

“Louisa! My Louisa!” The words were slurred as the muscles at the side of his mouth tightened and froze. He slumped to his knees, and then he doubled over. Around his mouth the skin was turning blue as he toppled sideways onto the floor of the cave.

“Hassan!” She stared down at him in disbelief. “Hassan, speak to me!” She touched his shoulder lightly with one finger, hardly daring to breathe. “Hassan, my love. Speak to me…” Her voice trailed away into silence as she knelt beside him. He was gasping for breath as he collapsed back onto the rug where he lay, unable to move. A slow paralysis seemed to be creeping over him as he looked up at her through dimming eyes, then between one anguished breath and the next, his heart stopped beating.

“Hassan!” Her whispered cry of agony was so quiet it barely stirred the hot shadows of the cave.

She didn’t know how long she sat there with his body. The sun moved round so it no longer shone into the mouth of the cave. The heat remained intense. She cried a little, then she sat, staring into space. She had no fear the snake would return. The servant of the gods had done its work and vanished back to the kingdoms from which it came.

At last she moved. She bent and kissed the poor tortured features and the wound which was already going black and rotten, then she folded the rug over his face and whispered a quiet prayer. Climbing stiffly to her feet, she stood for a moment, overwhelmed by grief, before she turned away and staggered out into the pitiless sunlight.

She barely remembered the walk back through the hills to the front of the great temple or her tearful plea to the other visitors she saw there and to the tall, blue-robed dragoman from another yacht who took charge, sending men for Hassan’s body, calling for a boat to take her to the
Ibis
, summoning women from the village to weep and cry for the man they did not know. She would not be allowed to see him again, to attend his funeral which would be before dark, to know even the place of his grave.

She was dimly aware of Augusta’s arms around her, of Jane Treece helping her off with her dusty, stained dress, and of lying in her darkened cabin. She heard the anchor being pulled up, the creak of the rigging, and the gentle slap of the river water, then, lulled by a drink heavily laced with Augusta’s laudanum, she slept at last.

Anna stared at Serena. Both women had tears in their eyes. “Poor Louisa. She loved him so much!” Anna was clutching the diary to her chest.

“Do you think the Forresters knew they were lovers?” Serena reached for her can of juice, then pushed it away untouched.

Anna shrugged. “I get the feeling that Augusta guessed. I don’t suppose it crossed Sir John’s mind that such a thing could happen. If only they hadn’t gone off alone. If only she had drawn the temple from the boat!”

They sat for a moment, lost in thought, then Serena turned back to her. “I think we’d better go on looking for Andy, don’t you?”

Anna nodded. Then she shook her head violently. “I want this all to be a legend!” she cried suddenly. “A story! I don’t want it to have been true.”

“It is true. And Hassan died somewhere out there.” Serena nodded towards the shining blue waters of the lake. “Those low hills around the temple site are all drowned now under that great inland sea. His grave, wherever it was, has gone.”

A shadow fell over them for a moment, and they looked up. Toby and Omar were standing looking down at them.

“Are you all right?” Toby touched Anna’s shoulder gently. He had seen the tears in her eyes.

“We were reading about Hassan’s death,” Serena replied for her.

Toby sighed. “So, the bastard killed him, did he? Poor Hassan. I’ve told Omar why we feel we have to find Andy urgently.” He glanced at the other man. “He’s prepared to give history the benefit of the doubt even though he doesn’t believe it himself, isn’t that right?”

Omar nodded. “It is only necessary to believe one is cursed for the curse to begin to work its way in one’s head,” he said. “I have told Toby that I think Andy has gone round to see the back of the temple. One can walk in to see how the artificial hill was constructed. It is very interesting. I show you?”

They followed him back towards the great temple statues, where the crowds were as thick as ever. Beside them, a small entrance led into the face of the cliff. Omar gestured towards it. “If you go in here, I think you will find him. I will search elsewhere, in case he changed his mind and went somewhere else. I will follow you soon.” He bowed and disappeared back into the crowd.

“He doesn’t believe there’s any danger, does he?” Anna was following Toby towards the entrance.