Read Online Tomb of the Golden Bird by Elizabeth Peters - Free Book Online

with a domed hall in the center and high arched windows in the dining and sleeping rooms. Howard greeted us warmly (which did not dispel my suspicion that the invitation had not been his idea, but Emerson's). We took drinks in the domed reception hall. It was simply but comfortably furnished, with low chairs and settees and brass tables. Howard introduced us to his new pet, a little yellow canary. Nefret, who shared Howard's fondness for animals, went at once to the cage and chirped at the pretty creature. It tilted its head and chirped back. "Charming," I said. Emerson grunted. "I hope it meets a happier fate than some of your other pets, Carter. What with feral cats and hawks—" "Oh, I shan't let it out of its cage," Howard said. He put his finger into the cage. The canary hopped onto it and let out a melodious trill. He added, "The men say it is a bird of good omen. A golden bird foretells a golden discovery this season." We went into the dining room and Emerson, who felt he had wastedenough time on the amenities, asked what luck Howard had had in the antiquities shops of Cairo. Howard shrugged. "Not much. I hope to do better here in Luxor." He took a spoonful of soup and made a face. "I must apologize for my cook. He has not the skill of your Maaman." The meal was in fact rather bad—the soup overseasoned, the beef tough, the vegetables stewed to mush. Naturally I did not say so. After dinner Howard showed us his acquisitions. One was rather charming—a cosmetic pot consisting of seven joined cylinders, each of which had contained a different variety of paint for face and hands. Howard shrugged my admiration aside. "It isn't the sort of thing that will excite his lordship. Do you happen to know of any artifacts at the Luxor dealers? Anything Vandergelt hasn't already got his hands on," he added somewhat sourly. "Mr. Vandergelt only arrived this morning, so you may be able to get in ahead of him," Ramses replied with a smile. "However, we haven't heard of anything unusual." "I'll go round to Mohassib's first thing in the morning," Howard said. "So you don't mean to start work immediately?" Emerson asked. Howard didn't miss the implicit criticism. "I see no reason for haste. His lordship will not be out for several more weeks, and it won't take us long to clear that small section." "And then what?" Emerson asked. Howard motioned to the hovering attendant to refill his wineglass. "That will be up to his lordship." Some persons might have accepted this evasion and not pursued the subject. Not Emerson. "Do you hope to persuade him into continuing in the East Valley?" "If Tutankhamon isn't in my little triangle, he must be somewhere," Howard declared. "Not necessarily," Emerson said. "That is—not necessarily in the East Valley." He immediately looked as if he regretted having said so much, adding, "His is not the only royal tomb we haven't located." "But his is the one I'm after," Howard said. He leaned forward,planting his elbows on the table—a vulgar habit which, I am sorry to say, was shared by my husband, who did the same. "You know that, Emerson, old chap," Howard went on. "You told me last year—didn't you?— that I ought to keep on looking. 'Predate your advice. Your help." Emerson, who had done his best to send Howard to another part of the Valley, had the decency to look embarrassed. "It'll be empty, like all the rest," Howard said sadly. "If it's there." From the bird in the adjoining room came a ripple of song. From Manuscript H Ramses was not surprised that his father should dismiss the search for Sethos, to quote his mother. (She had a penchant for colorful phrases.) Emerson was obsessed. Why he believed that Carter would find a tomb in the unpromising little triangle of ground Ramses did not know. Perhaps he had no real evidence, only a feeling, a hunch; but as Ramses knew, the greatest excavators develop an instinct for discovery. It had happened over and over again, especially to the untrained but