'There was no warning of any kind, she said.
They finished the meal in silence, each of them thinking their own
thoughts. Over the coffee he suggested, 'All right, then. -What about
our agreement?'
They argued back and forth for nearly an hour.
'It's difficult to agree on your share of the booty, until I know just
what your contribution is going to be,'Nicholas protested as he topped
up their coffee cups. 'After all, I am going to be called on to finance
and conduct the expedition-'
'You will just have to trust that my contribution will be worthwhile,
otherwise there will simply be no booty, as you call it. Anyway you can
be certain I am not going to tell you one thing more until we have -an
agreement, and have shaken hands on it.'
'A bit harsh?' he asked, and she gave him a wicked smile.
'If you don't like my terms, there are three other names on Duraid's
list of possible sponsors,' she threatened.
'All right,' he cut in with a contrived look of martyrdom, 'I agree to
your proposal, But how do we calculate equal shares?'
'I shall choose the first item of any archaeological artefacts we are
able to retrieve, and you the next, and so on, turn about.'
'How about I choose first?' He raised an eyebrow at her.
'Let's spin for it,' she suggested, and he fished a pound coin from his
pocket.
'Call!' He flipped the coin, and while it was in the air she called,
'Heads.'
'Damn!' he exclaimed, as he retrieved the coin and shoved it back into
his pocket. 'So, you get first choice of the booty, if there ever is
any.' He held out his hand across the lunch table. 'It will be yours to
do exactly what you want to do with it. You can even donate it to the
Cairo museum, if that is still your particular aberration. Deal?' he
asked, and. she took his hand.
'Deal,' she agreed, and then added, Partner.'
'Now let's get down to it. No more secrets between us Tell me every
detail that you have been holding back.'
'Bring that book,' she pointed to the copy of River God, and while he
fetched it she pushed the dirty dishes aside. 'The first thing we should
go over is the sections of the book that Duraid edited.' She turned to
the last pages.
'Here. This is where Duraid's obfuscation begins.'
'Good word,'Nicholas smiled, 'but let's keep it simple.
You have obfuscated me enough already.'
She did not even smile. 'You know the story to this point. Queen Lostris
and her people are driven out of Egypt by the Hyksos and their superior
chariots. They journey south up the Nile until they reach the confluence
of the White and Blue Niles. In other words, present-day Khartoum. All
this is reasonably faithful to the scrolls.'
'I recall. Go on.'
'In the holds of their river galleys they are carrying the mummified
body of Queen Lostris's husband, Pharaoh Mamose the Eighth. Twelve years
previously she has sworn to him as he lay dying of a Hyksos arrow
