'Hell, yeah. Three times.'
Linda was nonplussed for a moment before replying, 'But you don't look old enough.'
'I'll take that as a compliment.'
'Sorry, I meant- Never mind. Are you still married?'
'They was all duds, all three. Divorced 'em all. Well, not the last one, really. I didn't have enough money to pay off the lawyer and I don't think he ever sent in the papers. So, I guess I'm still married to Dud Number Three.'
'Oh.'
'Life's a bitch, ain't it?'
'Life's a sick puppy, no matter what the gender,' the portly Barnaby Walsh said.
'Shut up, Walsh.'
'Yes, ma'am.'
'Anyway, Linda, good luck being married to Casanova.'
Linda rolled her eyes. 'Deena, please!'
'Sorry. I like Gene, don't get me wrong.'
'I know you like Gene.'
'I'm sorry, really.'
'Forget it.'
Deena flinched inwardly. 'Whoops. Put my foot in it.'
'I said forget it.' Linda pushed lamb stew around with her spoon, then dropped the spoon and pushed the bowl away. 'I'm not hungry. Think I'll go for a walk.'
'Are you okay?' Melanie asked.
'Sure.'
Melanie said with underscored sincerity, 'Linda, all of us hope you'll be very happy.'
'Thanks. See you all later.'
Linda walked out of the dining hall. An uncomfortable silence fell. Lord Peter broke it.
'Well, I feel much better for having eaten my usual lunch.' He patted his lips with a serviette.
'Lord Peter, you're a man of principles,' Dalton said.
'I thank you, sir.'
'And a horse's ass.'
'As are you, sir. Now, I think I will go to Gene's picnic. Would you care to accompany this horse's ass to that auspicious affair?'
'As one horse's ass to another, I would be honored, sir.'
'If you people would kindly excuse us,' Lord Peter said.
'You're excused,' Deena said.
Dalton and Thaxton walked out the door.
'I guess I said the wrong thing to Linda,' Deena lamented. 'Am I dumb.'
'Oh, she'll be all right,' Melanie said, looking unconvinced.
CHAPTER FIVE
The tomb was dry and dark, its air stifling, carrying the odor of ancient decay and a musty staleness, a stuffiness, that made him want to sneeze. Dust of ages lay in piles on the stone floor. Dry death and time-bleached bones lay within. And gold and silver, perhaps. Perhaps not.
Rance got out the lantern, lit it with the striking stone, then made his way forward. The passage elbowed left, then right.
The way was narrow at first, slitlike side passages leading off it. Then he entered a steeply sloping grand gallery, its plug-blocks long since broken up into manageable fragments. He climbed the gallery into a large chamber with a gabled roof. Nothing lay within but some toppled statues, a smashed and empty sarcophagus, and scattered debris.
His heart sank. He slid back down the gallery and examined some of the side passages. All were dark. He took a deep breath and entered the widest one.
It went a short way, then flared out into a large antechamber. He stopped in his tracks.
A bronze door, quite intact, stood at the far end of the chamber. He rushed to it and, to his astonishment, found it locked or barred shut from the inside. There was no hole in the wall. Nothing bore witness to any forced entry whatsoever. How could this be?
He held the lantern high and looked around. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling like gray threads. In the corner to his right stood a tall box, a sarcophagus standing on end. It was made of plain stone and bore no inscriptions. He looked at it briefly, then fixed his gaze on the painted lettering which ran along the walls of the chamber. The ancient glyphs were difficult to read. He stepped closer to study them.
There was quite a lot to the inscription; it seemed to run on and on. Freely translated, it read:
* KNOW BY THESE WORDS THAT WHOSOEVER DISTURBETH THE PEACE OF THE DEAD WILL NOT DIE BUT WILL SUFFER THE PANGS OF ILL FORTUNE SO LONG AS HE WALKS THE EARTH * CALAMITY WILL BEFALL HIM AT EVERY TURN AND MEN WILL SHUN HIM AS THEY WOULD A CARRIER OF PLAGUE * NEITHER RESPITE NOR SURCEASE WILL HE KNOW FOREVER AND EVER * YOU MAY THINK THIS SOME SORT OF JEST BUT LET ME ASSURE YOU THAT THIS IS MEANT IN DEADLY EARNEST * I REALIZE YOU MUST HAVE SEEN ANY NUMBER OF THESE WARNINGS AND CURSES AND HAVE HAD A JOLLY GOOD LAUGH BUT BE WARNED THAT YOU WILL NOT BE LAUGHING WHEN THE FULL FORCE OF THIS PARTICULAR CURSE COMES DOWN UPON YOUR HEAD * OH I CAN JUST SEE YOU STANDING THERE SNEERING AND SCOFFING * VERY WELL TAKE WHAT JOLLITY YOU MAY FROM THESE WORDS FOR I GUARANTEE THAT IT WILL BE THE LAST TIME A SMILE CURLS YOUR SCROFULOUS LIP * NO BE MY GUEST GO
'He does blather on,' Rance complained. The inscription had run across four walls and now continued down a narrow passage. Holding the lantern high, he followed after it, reading along.
RIGHT AHEAD * FAR BE IT FROM ME TO SPOIL A GOOD JOKE BUT IT IS I WHO WILL HAVE THE LAST LAUGH AND BELIEVE ME I WILL LAUGH HEARTILY AT YOUR IMPENDING MISFORTUNE * YOU DOUBTLESS THINK ME CRUEL BUT I ASK YOU TO CONSIDER THIS * HERE YOU ARE BLITHELY RANSACKING MY TOMB
'This is absurd.' Rance sidestepped down the passageway, squinting in the gloom but continuing to read.
WITHOUT A THOUGHT OR A CARE AS TO MY WELFARE SO WHY SHOULD I BE CONCERNED WITH YOURS * OF COURSE I REALIZE WHAT YOU MUST BE THINKING * HE IS A WEALTHY KING AND DEAD BESIDES SO WHY BEGRUDGE YOU A FEW TRINKETS * AFTER ALL THEY ARE OF NO EARTHLY USE TO ME * IT IS SIMPLY A MATTER OF PRINCIPLE * I SUPPOSE YOU THINK IT IS EASY TO BE A KING * SIMPLY A MATTER OF PLANTING YOUR FAT BEHIND ON A THRONE AND FARTING OUT EDICTS AND DIRECTIVES AND SO FORTH * WELL MY FRIEND YOU LABOR UNDER A COMMON MISCONCEPTION * NOT ONLY IS BEING KING IF YOU WILL PARDON THE EXPRESSION A ROYAL PAIN IN THE ASS IT IS ALSO DANGEROUS * PALACE INTRIGUE * PLOTS * CABALS * ASSASSINATION ATTEMPTS * OH THAT PUTS THE MATTER IN A SLIGHTLY DIFFERENT LIGHT DOES IT * WELL YOU HAVENT HEARD THE HALF OF IT * HOW WOULD YOU
'Ye gods, will it never end?' Rance despaired.
LIKE TO SPEND YOUR DAYS SITTING ON A THRONE FACING AN ENDLESS PROCESSION OF FOREIGN DIGNITARIES PROVINCIAL GOVERNORS COURTIERS VASSALS FUNCTIONARIES SUPPLICANTS ENVOYS
