Later, Ella would have plenty of time to reflect on the old adage about a journey of a thousand steps beginning with a single step. For her, it would begin with taking a shortcut back from the bathing tent in an attempt to avoid the one person she knew she was going to have to confront sooner or later anyway.
She and Julia took their bath one night after dinner, escorted by a lackluster guard who spoke no English. Afterwards, as they hurried down the path to return to their tent, Digby stepped out of the bushes and blocked their way. Julia’s scream brought the two Egyptian guards bolting from the interior of the camp where they had been loitering.
“Really, you are making this much more than it is, my dear,” Digby said to her.
Ella could see his eyes rake his wife’s body while a sneer played on his lips. She felt Julia trembling beside her, but she was obviously trying to face her husband instead of cowering behind Ella.
“You are a pig,” Julia said, breathlessly, her voice shaking but her fists clenched at her sides as if she might use them. “Miss Stevens and I will be leaving at first light.”
Although happy to hear that Julia had changed her mind about leaving, Ella wasn’t thrilled to be hearing it for the first time along with Digby. It didn’t do to give some people advance warning.
“That is not possible,” Digby said easily. Ella watched Abdullah materialize from the shadows and stand behind him. While Abdullaha’s arms hung limply at his sides, his very presence was threat enough. “I have spoken with Carter and we will be extending our stay.”
“You haven’t spoken to him,” Ella said. “You’re lying.”
Digby turned his attention to her as if just seeing her.
“The luscious Miss Stevens,” he said slowly, a smile creeping across his face. “It appears we will have the pleasure of your company a little longer.” He looked back at Julia and his face hardened. “We will stay until Lord Carnarvon arrives,” he said.
“That’s…that’s a month from now!” Julia said. “I am ready to go now!”
“And that, my dear, is of no consequence to me.” Digby leaned in toward Julia but whatever he had intended to do or say was thwarted by the sounds of Josh Spenser coming down the path towards them. Without another word, Digby turned on his heel and disappeared into the bush as silently as he had come.
Ella grabbed Julia’s hand to give her strength. “Now we have to go, Julia,” she said as she pulled her toward their tent. “He’s capable of devising any kind of ruse to force you to stay. We’ve got to go now. Tonight.” Ella tried to tamp down her growing panic that Digby could somehow prevent her from returning as soon as possible to Cairo—and Rowan.
Three hours later, after riding silently in the dark with only the waning moon to light their way, Julia—who had been so badly shaken by their encounter with Digby that she had allowed Ella to pack her up and lead her—began to show signs of getting some of her old spirit back. “Did you even think to bring food?” she asked querulously.
“Well, since the river is only a two hour ride from camp, and the boats are all fully furnished with cooks and kitchens, I didn’t think it was necessary.”
“Not even water?”
Ella had to admit that not bringing water had been a serious oversight. “Let’s get up higher,” she said. “Maybe we’ll be able to see something. We should have reached the river by now.”
“Are you saying we’re lost? I never would have done this ridiculous escape if I thought you didn’t know where you were going.”
“Why would I know where we were going, Julia?” Ella responded hotly. “I have not been in this godforsaken desert five minutes longer than you have. What possible reason would you have for thinking I knew where we were going?”
“We can’t get lost in the desert, Ella!” Julia wailed. “People die in deserts!”
“Okay, just calm down. Nobody’s going to die.” Ella squeezed her horse with her legs to prompt him up a nearby hill. “Let’s get up here and see where we are. Come on.”
Ella drove her horse up the steep hill, sending a wake of large clods of crumbling rock behind her. She prayed the crest would reveal the sight she so desperately longed to see.
Surely, the damn river was right over this hill?
When she reached the top, she felt the new day’s sun strike her full in the face. She shaded her eyes and strained to see the serpentine shape of the Nile.
Julia called to her from the base of the hill. “Well? Do you see it? Do you see the river?”
Damn it! Ella felt her shoulders sag with the stupidity and deadly failure of this enterprise. Ahead was an endless vista of desert and undulating sands unbroken by the river that she so longed to see. How had they gotten so turned around? They must have headed away from the river. They had ridden three hours full west. How could she be so stupid? The sun had been rising steadily behind them as they rode and it hadn’t even occurred to her to think that that wasn’t right?
“No,” she admitted. “We have to turn around. We’re going further into the desert this way.”
Julia stopped climbing before she reached Ella. “So we are lost?”
“No. We’re just turned around. Now that I know where the river isn’t, I’m pretty sure I know where it must be.”
“The way we just came from.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“I’m really thirsty, Ella.”
Ella looked at her. In the whole time she had known Julia, she had never seen her flushed or with a hair or button out of place. Even with her huge hat on against the sun, Julia was looking decidedly wilted.
“There will be water to drink on the boat,” Ella said, trying to sound encouraging.
“Three hours the other way.”
Actually, it was more like five hours when you counted the additional time to get to the river, but Ella didn’t mention that. “Unfortunately, yes,” she said. “Talking about it won’t make it less. Let’s go.”
“Was this a mistake?” Julia asked suddenly. “Should we have stayed after all?”
“I couldn’t stay,” Ella said firmly as she rode down the hill. Without thinking, her hand dropped for the briefest of moments to touch her abdomen.
She had to get back.
The facts were clear and unassailable. As pleasant and determined to be helpful as the people at Carter’s camp were, they were knee deep in a very big—monumentally big—historic enterprise. And the uncomfortable shenanigans of a misbehaving British Viscount and his wife, not to mention their equally troublesome American traveling companion, was just one big pain in the excavation site. Carter had made it clear to Spenser in no uncertain terms that, Lord Carnarvon’s friends or not, the Digbys had worn out their welcome and needed to be encouraged to move on down the road. “Lord Bingham has a smashing good hole dug on the other side of the Valley. Why not encourage them to go see what he’s up to?”
Spenser had already broken the bastard’s nose and was only too happy to be the bearer of get-up-and-get-gone news if it meant he could stop babysitting and get back to running the camp. Unfortunately, it seemed the limey bastard’s evening with Carter, his fellow countryman, had bought him a reprieve—at least as long as he was willing to see the back of his wife and her friend. Digby had agreed to escort the women back to Cairo (let them be the boat captain’s problem for awhile) before rejoining the dig at the end of the month when Carnarvon was expected to be in the country.
Spenser didn’t care. He just wanted them gone. Without the women to distract him, he didn’t expect any more trouble from Digby. Which is why it was all so annoying to stand in front of Digby’s tent—to actually be shown into his tent by that ape Abdullah—and be informed that the women (goddamn them!) had taken two of the horses in the middle of the night and decamped.
“Where did they go?” he asked with a stunned expression on his face.
Digby shrugged. “I have no earthly idea,” he said. “Women.”
“Are they going to the river? Do you think they intend to get on a boat bound for Cairo? Are they trying to get back to the city?”
“My good man,” Digby said patiently. “I am not a confidant of either one of the ladies in question. I had no hint that they were planning to leave abruptly in the middle of the night.”
“How do you know they went on their own steam?”
“Beg pardon?”
Spenser slapped his pith helmet against his leg. “Were they taken, man?” he said impatiently.
“As in stolen away? I hardly think so. Abdullah saw both of them untie the horses and lead them on foot from the camp.”
Spenser looked at the tall implacable Egyptian. “And he did nothing to stop them?”
“Surely you are not suggesting he lay hands on a white woman? Even an American? That would not be his place, sir.”
“Would it be his place to inform someone of what he saw?”
“That was perhaps a lapse in judgment on Abdullah’s behalf, I agree,” Digby said, eyeing the Egyptian as if trying to decide.
Spenser turned on his heel in disgust. “Mount up,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“Get mounted, man!” Spenser shouted. “There’s a lot that can happen between here and the river assuming that’s the direction they went in. We need to go now!” As he left the tent, Spenser ran into a small Egyptian boy who had come running down the hill to the tent, his robes flapping in the dusty, constant breeze.
“Effendi Spenser!” he yelled. “Effendi!”
Spenser grabbed the boy and forced him to stand still. “What is it? What’s happened?”
“Men come, effendi!”
“From the village?” Spenser asked, shielding his eyes to look in the direction the boy was pointing.
“No, effendi. From the river.”
As Spenser stood looking, his hands on his hips, he saw a group on horseback growing larger as they approached. A woman with thick dark red curls bounced along on a horse in front of the group, her large bosom seeming to keep time with the rocking chair cadence of her mount. There were at least six people in her group, all of them mounted. At one point, he thought he heard singing.
Good God, now what? he thought with resignation.
Rowan tried to digest the information over the deafening roar of his disappointment.
He had missed her by a few hours.
He stood in Ella’s tent trying to get any feel at all that she had been here. He saw no personal effects that reminded him of her. The dresses looked like they belonged in a museum, even the scent in the tent was obliterated by a musk that hung in the air like an unseen fog. He picked up the silk slippers from under the bed and held them in his hands.
To be so close!
He left the tent and walked to the center of the camp where the rest of his group stood. He could see Marvel with her hands on her hips confronting the head foreman. He knew how stubborn she could be when she wanted something but a quick look at Spenser’s face made it pretty clear he was at the end of his patience. Rowan didn’t know what had happened in the camp to make Ella leave in the middle of the night. His glance fell on the reedy, unctuous looking Englishman they called Digby. But he would damn sure find out.
“We have just arrived!” Marvel said, following Spenser as he attempted to circumvent her in order to approach Rowan. Whether he detected a vein of common sense in Rowan or was just drawn to another American male, Spenser had quickly looked to Rowan in the midst of the growing contretemps.
“You must all leave and go back where you came from,” Spenser growled in frustration. “Pierce? We’ve got a situation on our hands here.”
“Marvel,” Rowan said. “You need to head back.”
“Rowan, no!” She turned on him, allowing Spenser to retreat. He tapped Digby on the chest in passing as if to indicate he should follow.
Rowan took Marvel by the arms and watched the transformation as she became an obedient schoolgirl for him, looking up into his eyes as if he could but command her.
“I need you to head on back,” he said firmly but kindly.
“But, Rowan,” she said, her bottom lip beginning to stick out. “We just got here.”
“Which has nothing to do with the fact that they are in no shape to receive us right now.” He ran a hand down her arm and gave her a light push toward her party of gawky relatives and simpering nieces. He turned to Ra who was holding the reins to Rowan’s horse and his own donkey. “Escort her back, Ra,” he said.
“Rowan, no,” she said softly, but he could tell she would go.
“Go on back to Cairo, Marvel,” he said. “I’ll send for you when things have calmed down here, okay?” Without waiting for an answer, he jerked his head to Ra who handed him the reins of his horse and turned back toward Marvel’s group. “Send Ra back once you’re safely on the boat. I’ll let you know when it’s okay to return.”
“You’re going after her,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
“Go on now,” he said, patting her shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Spenser was mounted and waiting for him.
* * * *
“You’re telling us she is your wife?” The English fop gave Rowan a look of incredulity. “Why didn’t she mention she was married? Why should we believe you are who you say you are?”
“I don’t give a shit what you believe.”
Rowan stood up in the stirrups and scanned the horizon. Because they had seen no one on the trip from the boat to the camp, Rowan had suggested they fan out in any of the three other directions possible except for the one leading to the river. It didn’t make obvious sense, he knew. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t right.
The American foreman, Spenser, seemed like a solid sort, although he was clearly frustrated with the whole mess. For whatever reason, Rowan saw him eagerly push off the leadership of the expedition onto Rowan, who was watching Digby’s surreptitious conference with his big Arab.
Ella and Julia had been gone nearly seven hours by this time. Rowan had no idea how much water they had with them or how long they could last. It was perplexing that they had not ridden straight to the river. He wracked his brain to understand what their reasoning might have been. Was there a village they were aiming for?
“What’s near here?” he asked Spenser.
The big man shook his head. “Fuck all,” he said. “Some broken down huts they call a village. And of course the desert. About twenty-five thousand miles of sand.”
“If they didn’t head to the river,” Digby said, pursing his lips as if he was encountering a bad smell by riding so close to Rowan, “then they have decided to commit suicide by desert.”
“They probably made a mistake,” Rowan said, looking at him in disgust. “A miscalculation.”
What in the world had Ella been doing out here?
“Their miscalculation was when they stole two horses and slipped out into the night,” Digby said.
“Yeah, about that.” Rowan twisted in his saddle. “What made two civilized women so desperate that they ran away in the middle of the night?” He spoke to Digby, taking in his recently broken nose.
“There was a misunderstanding,” Digby said stiffly.
“They both misunderstood something?” He was talking to Spenser now.
The foreman sighed. “We had it all sorted out,” he said, glancing over at Digby. “They were to be escorted to Cairo. Today, in fact.”
“Did they know this?”
“They hadn’t been told yet,” Spenser admitted.
“Who was to do the escorting? You?”
Spenser glanced at Digby. “He’s her husband,” he said.
“What happened to make them run?” Rowan asked again.
“None of your damn business, Yank! Lady Digby is my wife. This isn’t the United States of Do As You Please. I don’t answer to you.”
“The woman your wife ran off with is my wife,” Rowan snarled. “And she’s not in the habit of doing that unless something is very wrong and she has no other option.”
“I have no idea about any of that,” Digby said, backing his horse away from Rowan.
“Look, Pierce,” Spenser said, “The Viscount and his wife had some problems. And your wife got in the middle of it.”
Rowan looked at him and had to admit that sounded like Ella.
“Lady Digby probably overreacted,” Spenser continued, “and your wife went along to be a good friend. We’ll find them, okay?”
“We’d better,” Rowan muttered, giving Digby a last angry glance. He didn’t know the specifics of the man’s involvement yet but he would. Oh, he would.
Ella was worried. They should have made up their lost miles and reached the river by now. She didn’t dare look at the sun. Although it was steadily dropping, it was still hot. Her pith helmet felt like a toaster oven sitting on her head. But removing it was not an option, so punishing were the sun’s rays. At one point, she had the mad idea that she and Julia could make the horses stand still long enough that they could sit under them. Anything for a bit of shade!
She thought of the old saying that when the gods want to punish you, they answer your prayers. She knew her prayers were about to be answered when dusk came—only to be replaced by a drastic drop in temperature that neither woman was dressed for.
How could this have happened?
Parched, exhausted and nearly hysterical with fear and dread, they had both stopped speaking hours earlier. There was nothing to say. Every step might take them closer to the river or a village so they had to keep moving. Ella was surprised that Julia hadn’t fallen from her pony in a dead faint yet. She stayed mounted, although Ella could see she had let go of her reins and was now clutching the pommel to stay upright. How much longer could they continue like this?
She was grateful that Julia had not succumbed to crying. As thirsty and dry as they were, it was almost as if she knew on some basic level that that would be the last thing that would help.
Ella had planned on riding through the night when the sun wasn’t bearing down upon them, but they were both so tired that the thought of continuing was ludicrous. As the light faded above the far-off cliffs on the horizon, she felt the first chill breeze gently ripple her cotton shirt. Damp from sweat, she shivered.
“Julia,” she croaked. “Let’s stop.”
Without looking to see if she had heard her, Ella slid out of the saddle to the ground, feeling her knees instantly give way as she tumbled to a seated position next to her horse’s legs. Before she gained the strength to pull herself back up using the saddle’s stirrups, she heard the distant howl of the first jackal.
“I say, a fool could see that they didn’t come this way, and meanwhile we are ill-provisioned to continue this folly!” Digby stood on the ground, the foot of his horse in his hands. He had stopped to remove a stone.
In all this sand, Rowan didn’t find the excuse plausible. Digby had been falling further and further behind.
“It is now, officially, a wild-goose chase,” Digby said to Spenser. Rowan was concerned to see that Spenser appeared to be listening. Rowan knew the foreman would prefer to quickly resolve the crisis and get back to work at the dig site.
Digby pointed to the sun which was now just above the horizon. “We are not equipped to spend the night out here,” he said. “And we have no idea of which direction they went.”
“He’s got a point,” Spenser said, removing his pith helmet and scratching his head. “We’re nearly at the point where we can’t see anything even if there is something to see.”
“They can still hear us,” Rowan said, bringing his horse back to where the other two were standing. “I say we go on. They could be right over that rise for all we know.”
“The key phrase being for all we know,” Digby said, positioning his foot in the stirrup and hoisting himself up in the saddle. “It makes more sense to go back and properly provision for a longer expedition.”
“That’s bullshit,” Rowan said. “Every minute counts and you know it. Going back would sign their death warrants out here in the desert.”
Spenser held up a hand to stop the bickering. With what looked like a longing glance in the direction of the Valley of the Kings, he said, “We’ll camp here tonight and restart the search at dawn.”
“That’s madness!” Digby said.
“We’re losing time!” Rowan said at the same time.
Spenser ignored Digby and turned to Rowan. “You don’t know this desert like I do,” he said. “They should be able to survive one night now that the sun’s gone down. I’ll bet we find them as soon as it’s light. We’ve got enough water for at least two more days.”
Rowan let out an agonizing breath. “Okay. But at the very first light.” He could see that Digby was not at all pleased to be continuing the search on any terms.
Now why would that be, I wonder?
Spenser built a small fire and the group bedded down near it in blanket rolls. Rowan watched as Abdullah moved furtively into the shadows toward the horses and disappeared into the night.
Julia could not stop convulsing. It had started out as simple trembling from the cool night air and quickly escalated into uncontrollable body shakes. While the temperature had dropped significantly, Ella couldn’t believe it was cold enough for them to actually die of hypothermia. They were in a desert for heaven’s sake! She held Julia and rubbed her shoulders through her thin cotton blouse to create some warmth. She spoke to her, too, as if her voice might reach the irrational part of Julia that was insisting on expiring from the simple state of being extremely uncomfortable.
“Come on, girl,” Ella said. “You’re plucky, remember? You’re tougher than this. It’s cold but it’s not the arctic. It’s a desert. Come on, sweetie.”
Julia’s only answer was the rather loud clattering of her teeth.
“Let’s think of warm things, okay?” Ella said. “I’ll start. Hot chocolate so hot it burns your lips. Cancun at high noon when all you can feel is the sweat and the sunscreen dripping down your ribs and the sun beating down your face. How about any moment we just lived through today, right? Plodding along endless sands with the sun burning down your neck? Remember, sweetie? Remember it was so hot we felt like our skin was crisping up? Julia?”
Suddenly, Ella heard a noise that hadn’t come from her or Julia or one of the horses. She stopped talking and held her breath. The only sound in the quiet night was Julia’s chattering teeth.
“Julia,” Ella said, shaking her friend. “Julia, shut up a second.”
Ella’s stomach clenched with excitement. She heard voices! Voices coming across the sands toward them!
They were rescued!
“Julia! We’ve been found!” she said. “They’ve found us! We’re saved!”
Ella jumped up and ran to their hobbled horses. She was horrified to see her horse was lying down and not moving.
“Hello?” she called into the night. “We’re over here! Help!”
She heard the voices stop when she called and it occurred to her that that was not a good sign. She tried to see in the darkness but could make out nothing. She took a tentative step back to where she had left Julia and realized at some instinctual level that she was now attempting to be secretive.
Why would the voices stop when she called to them?
She turned to run back to Julia but halted in horror after two steps.
Four men stood over Julia. They were dressed in rags, their faces covered by beards. As Ella watched, two of them turned toward her. One pulled a long scimitar from a loop in his belt as he advanced toward her.