worthwhile to say to her.”
“You could come alongside her-woman-to-woman, be her friend, gain her confidence.”
“Do you honestly imagine that will achieve some positive result?” Haven asked, still shaking her head.
“She would talk to you,” insisted Burleigh. “Get her to confide in you.”
“A manageress?” Haven made a wry face. “What could she possibly know that would be of the most remote interest to us, or to the success of our venture?”
“ That,” declared Burleigh decisively, “is what you must discover.” He thought for a moment. “No… no,” he said slowly. “Better still, gain her confidence and invite her to dinner tomorrow. Lure her here, and I will take care of the rest. Once we get her upstairs, alone, we’ll find out what she knows soon enough.”
Lady Fayth, having given an entirely believable performance of the Reluctant Accomplice, agreed to take on the chore and took herself to the Grand Imperial the next afternoon. She was there, waiting, when Wilhelmina returned from another unsuccessful attempt to locate Kit. The two exchanged a knowing glance and Wilhelmina, after greeting Etzel, filled a pot with fresh coffee and sat down with her ally to share information on the state of the game so far.
“I cannot understand the Black Earl’s interest in Kit,” Lady Fayth mused. “On the one hand he insists that Kit knows nothing useful to the quest. On the other hand he refuses to simply let him go. We have already stayed in Prague far longer than originally intended, and there are no plans at present to leave.”
“Burleigh is not being entirely truthful,” observed Mina. “No doubt the shock of seeing Kit here in Prague, when he thought him dead and buried in Egypt, revived his interest-at least insofar as he assumes Kit must have had help to escape the tomb.” She thought for a moment. “Has he said anything about this?”
“He has vouchsafed nothing specific or germane to the issue at hand. His lordship’s hirelings have borne the brunt of his anger on that account, and they have paid dearly for their lapse.” Her lips curled in a conspiratorial smile. “Nevertheless, they have helped our cause-unwittingly, it must be said-by maintaining the fiction that the prisoners were in the tomb when the wadi was abandoned. To admit anything more would merely bring even greater approbation down upon their sorry heads.”
“Poor things,” Wilhelmina said without the least shred of pity.
“As it stands, Kit is the object of the earl’s present obsession. The quest, I suspect, will not go forward until Kit is found. As to that, our nemesis intends on casting the net wider. He intends to find out what you know about this affair.” Lady Fayth sipped her coffee and watched Wilhelmina for a response.
Mina took this information in stride. “He is grasping at straws.” She thought for a moment. “What form would this interrogation take?”
“You might well ask. He has prevailed upon me to be the agent of his inquiry.” She offered a cheerful smile. “I am to gain your trust and induce you to confide in me. Under the guise of a dinner invitation, he would lure you to the inn, take you prisoner, and menace you into revealing your secrets.”
Wilhelmina’s brow creased with concern.
“Of course,” Haven continued quickly, “it goes without saying that we must decide between ourselves what we want him to know.”
“Then we must think very carefully what to tell him,” agreed Wilhelmina. She reached for the little pewter pot. “More coffee, Lady Fayth?”
The young lady made no move to hold out her cup. “I suspect he knows you are a ley traveller, and I have no doubt he intends you harm.”
Wilhelmina returned her gaze steadily. “He will have to catch me first.”
“It would be unwise to make light of the threat. Lord Burleigh is fully capable of carrying out his nefarious designs, as we both know only too well.” Lady Fayth gave her a solemn nod. “In regards to the dinner tomorrow night-you dare not for a moment even contemplate actually going.”
“But if I refuse,” countered Mina, “won’t that make him even more determined and suspicious?”
“Perhaps.” Haven pursed her perfect lips in thought; she glanced out the window at a man carrying a wicker basket. “Why not go away for a few days? Leave the city, go somewhere-anywhere. Stay out of his way completely.”
“Run away, you mean.”
“Why not? Only for a few days, mind. His lordship will soon grow tired of waiting and leave Prague. We would have departed long since if not for Kit.”
Wilhelmina thought for a moment. “I could go away,” she agreed. “I have been wanting to go back to-”
“Do not tell me,” warned Haven. “It will be better for both of us if I do not know. Only make some excuse and depart as soon as possible. Leave at once.”
Wilhelmina regarded her co-conspirator for a moment in silence, unable to tell if she was keeping something back.
“Please,” urged Lady Fayth. Reaching across the table, she clutched Wilhelmina’s hand and squeezed it for emphasis. “Please go.”
“Very well.” Mina rose and pushed back her chair. “If you will excuse me, I think I have some packing to do.”
PART TWO
CHAPTER 8
Chaos is loosed upon the Black Land, my brother,” declared Anen, Second Prophet of Amun, with a solemn shake of his head. “Pharaoh pursues a dangerous course. He takes counsel only from his Habiru advisors and listens not to the voice of his own people. He taxes the land heavily to pay for the building of his new city in the desert.” He paused and added, “There is even talk of closing Amun’s many temples.”
Arthur Flinders-Petrie shook his head in sympathy. “I am sorry to hear it.”
“It is believed by many that unless he is stopped, Akhenaten will bring all the country to ruin.”
Benedict, reclining at table next to his father, cleared his throat. He leaned close and whispered, “What is he saying?”
“Excuse me a moment, Anen.” Arthur put his head near his son, and replied, “He is telling me that there is trouble in Egypt just now-the new pharaoh is pursuing a reckless course.”
“The new pharaoh-Amenhotep, you mean.”
Arthur nodded. “He has taken the name Akhenaten and is building a new city in the desert to honour his god. The people are unhappy.”
“Perhaps we should leave,” suggested Benedict. “If there’s going to be trouble… ”
“You may be right.” Arthur turned once more to his friend. “It was my hope that my son could abide here awhile to study your language with the priests in the temple school-as I did all those years ago. But it seems that the Flinders-Petrie visit has come at an awkward time. Perhaps it would be best if we made other plans. You will not want us underfoot.”
“Never think that,” said Anen, taking a handful of dates onto his gold plate. “As always, your visit gladdens my heart. To see you and your son once more is a potent medicine to this old man. The troubles of which I speak are but wisps of smoke on the winds of time.” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “But true friendship is carved in stone. It endures forever.”
“It does indeed, my friend,” agreed Arthur. He dipped a scrap of bread into the olive oil and then into the salt, put it into his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully. “I treasure our friendship.”
Anen raised a finger, and a temple slave stepped silently to the table with the wine jug. Benedict swallowed
