Pankh was amused.
The foreigners were in each other's arms, oblivious to the world, cooing. He had completely surprised them.
He knew how impressive he looked. Of course, foreigners were always deeply impressed by Egyptians. His white kilt was starched and finely pleated, unlike their sweat-stained garb. His wig was heavy and flawlessly braided, unlike the messy sandy locks of the foreigners. But most important, his dagger was heavy and strong in his hand.
The girl, pleasingly, had screamed.
She would scream more before he was done.
Hetepheres' tomb had been empty. He had spat down the trapdoor, trying to spit on the queen's sarcophagus, but missed.
These were the possibilities: The foreign male had carried the gold in some basket or bundle that Pankh had not seen; or the man had buried it to retrieve later; or somebody else had the gold.
Pen-Meru? Could he have moved so swiftly?
But it was unlikely that Pen-Meru would trust a foreign male. And although Pankh could possibly imagine Pen-Meru saving Renifer, why would anybody save the girl of ivory?
Pankh had climbed out of the tomb, retreated behind the mastaba, dusted himself off and straightened his wig. He was preparing a lie should he encounter the same tomb police when Pharaoh's crew arrived to fill in the shaft.
So Pharaoh had known of the second shaft; known its precise location and that it was empty. But his men had certainly not known that the stone would be moved away and the shaft gaping open, down to where the living sacrifice probably still lived. Pankh laughed grimly to himself as they swore oaths not to tell Pharaoh. His retreat was covered by the racket of rocks they threw down as quickly as they could, to keep the spirit of the sacrifice from reaching out toward their bare feet and cursing their lives.
And there, beyond, were the two foreigners, on the edge of the desert, climbing the cliff. Nobody went toward the desert, where there was no water, no shelter and no hope. People went toward the Nile. Had there been time already to bury the gold up on that cliff? Were they carrying it with them? Or did they expect to meet others with the gold at that spot?
Pankh would get the gold before he threw them off the cliff. No need to worry about bodies. Tomb police didn't bother with this piece of sand. Jackals did.
But now, standing before them, Pankh felt the rage of frustration working through his chest. They had no gold with them. But they certainly knew where it was; the girl had removed it and placed it somewhere. “Gold,” said Pankh clearly. He drew bracelets around his arms and a necklace around his throat and raised his eyebrows.
The foreign boy and girl were puzzled.
“Gold!” he shouted, hating them for not understanding a civilized language. “Where is the gold?”
Their eyes flew open and their jaws dropped. They stared as if seeing somebody rise from the dead.
“The gold,” he spat. “Where is the gold?”
“I have the gold,” said Renifer, behind him.
Pankh whirled.
Renifer stood on the very edge of the cliff. She was so weighted down with that beautiful gold he did not know how she could possibly have scrambled up here. Behind her was nothing but air.
Pankh recovered quickly. “How beautiful you are, my beloved,” he whispered. “How wonderful that you survived Pharaoh's evil trick. How glad I am to see you in the land of the living.”
Renifer said nothing. He could not see her breathe or blink. She did not look as if she belonged to the land of the living. Her face was as expressionless as if she had died.
Pankh had his back to the foreign man. He was vulnerable. And yet, he felt in some way that the danger came from Renifer herself. “Come, my beloved. You will hide in my house, lest Pharaoh learn that you survived. But what pleasure we will have in being together, you and I.”
Renifer said nothing.
Pankh took a few steps away, hoping Renifer would step toward him. The rims of this kind of cliff frequently caved in, and her weight was putting her in danger. Although of course he could simply retrieve the gold from her corpse. “Renifer, it wasn't my fault. I didn't intend for Pharaoh to sacrifice you. Who could have dreamed that such an idea would enter the mind of a civilized Egyptian? Come to me, my beloved.”
Renifer said nothing.
She had not an inch between herself and falling. He extended his hand. But she seemed not to see it. “Your father and I were forced to agree with Pharaoh. My beloved, let us leave these strangers to their own devices. Let us go home and rejoice that you live.”
She was still and unearthly in her gold. How had she gotten up the steep and difficult slope? Had she been lifted? By what power?
The thin chain of the amulet of Sekhmet seemed to cut his neck.
By now some laborer or priest or guard would have noticed this strange scene playing out on the distant hill. Somebody would investigate. Pankh could not permit Renifer to delay any longer. They would be out of time. “Renifer, come let your beloved Pankh embrace you.”
Renifer removed one arm piece. Its gold was over an inch thick. He could not take his eyes off it. Underhanded, she threw the bracelet. The heavy circle sailed in a great arc out beyond the cliff and then vanished in a long curving silent fall.
The sand below was soft. The heavy gold would dig its own hole, the sand would close over it and Pankh would never find it. “No, no, my beloved!” protested Pankh. “You and I will need that gold in our marriage. Think what it will cost to protect you for all time from the wrath of Pharaoh.”
Renifer threw a second bracelet into the air. “Beloved,” he said coaxingly, inching toward her.
She almost smiled. She almost softened. She was almost his. When she held out her arms, Pankh acted swiftly, grabbing for those gold-laden wrists, but Renifer leaned back over the cliff edge, planning to fall, still willing to die for Pharaoh.
Pankh's velocity was great. He could not stop himself. Together they would hurtle over the cliff and hundreds of feet down to their deaths. He tried to brace himself against her; let her fall while he saved himself.
But the arm of the foreign male, in its loathsome jacket of heavy cloth, pulled Renifer to safety while Pankh spun out into the air and was lost.
The amulet flew up in Pankh's face, and the last thing he saw before death was the image of Sekhmet, goddess of revenge.