Mairi

Very exquisite and rich writing. And the setting is wonderfully drawn.

Sorry I can't offer much in the way of helpful criticism--every time I try to reread and look for areas that need work I get all caught up in the story again. Guess I couldn't be an editor for a living.

But I did notice one thing: Rosalinde's dialogue seems inconsistent at times. Sometimes she is cultured and ladylike, and sometimes she is very down-to-earth. But that might be because I don't know her character well enough yet.

You seem to have a very clear handle on your cast of characters, though, and they all appear to be unique and interesting.

Thanks for letting us read more! (I would be delighted if you decided to share some more with us, but I promise to be polite and not beg. . .)

Mairi

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"Logic will get you from A to B, Imagination will take you everywhere." ~Albert Einstein

~Kouryuu~

Thank you, Fossy! i've completed two chapters. I'll post them up gradually, because first I want to get rid of any deadwood. The story goes on to be an adventure/romance when they start pursuing the Hall of Records. But the book I've ordered for a lot of my research hasnt yet come in stock. Its going to be a big one... and I think will take a year just to research. :/

Az!!
Thank you again! I really am learning a lot from you. The things you've picked out I've seen but never really taken any notice of! Thanks for pulling them out!!

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~Kouryuu~

I think you're right on that! Hmm, I'm gonna have to look at her speech again!! Thanks for pointing that out! You're super!

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Azmakna

i just want you to drag me into a scene and hold on for longer. i want to eat at the table, taste the wine. let me go when you've milked everything you can and then toss me to another scene. make me feel, screw me up, twist my thoughts. i don't want colour upon colour, i want vivid scenes with so much depth i sink willingly.

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don't count me a blank page
waiting to be written on,
see me as a written page
waiting to be photocopied.

http://www.writersbeat.com

~Kouryuu~

Sounds good! I'll do my best, sir! ^_^

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Fossy

Mairi, I think you are right about the dialogue. I did notice that, but you very cleverly put it into words.

Azma, didn't you sink into the scene at the table? I sure did. I think we're just about to taste the food and drink the wine.

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Originally posted by Sam Winchester.
Fossy's good too. She gives good advice.

Azmakna

i'm clearly hungrier than you

__________________
don't count me a blank page
waiting to be written on,
see me as a written page
waiting to be photocopied.

http://www.writersbeat.com

~Kouryuu~

Dinner was going well as far as I could tell, but I was so devilishly famished that for a long while I could hardly see past my plate.

When I had eventually felt satisfied with food, I looked up. I saw that everyone was engaged in a conversation with someone else. For that I was glad. I could still feel the rings under my eyes even if no one else could see them.

Alex was talking politics with Sir Carston. I knew this from the simple fact that it was the only time that I heard him really blaspheme. Mr Williams seemed to be interested in what he was saying, but I could see that he was finding it difficult to keep up.

His wife, however, I felt sorry for. She was quite obviously a quiet woman at heart, but she now had been pulled into a conversation with Rosalinde Hill, who seemed to be holding up both sides of their talk without missing a beat. I was glad of this in a way, because although the woman was in complete misery, I had been left to indulge in my own exhaustion.

I dared to glance at Shaw last. He was leaning back into his chair so Rosalinde could get closer to the poor Williams woman without getting in her way. He had hardly eaten anything, I noticed, and he was just sitting there staring off into space with a vacant yet troubled expression on his face. I couldn’t help wondering about where those smoke coloured eyes had drifted off to and actually caught myself fantasising about it.

He turned to look at me then, as if he could sense that he was being watched, catching me again staring at him. I looked away quickly, but when I looked back he was not scowling at me like I had expected but smiling softly, obviously trying to make it clear that he was not bothered by me. I smiled back weakly.

‘You look tired,’ he said quietly, speaking over the hunched up back of the giggling American woman.

I nodded, secretly pleased that he had noticed. The first to do so. But this man saw a lot of things that others did not. That was evident.

‘You’re not hungry?’ I asked, letting him see that I could be just as observant as he could.

This amused him. ‘Would you like it?’ he said.

I laughed, embarrassed. ‘Thank you, but I’ve already eaten the whole of the left side of the menu, and I’m in fear now that another bite will finish me and they’ll have to cart me off to join the rest of the walrus’ in the Artic.’

‘You’re not a walrus, Miss Parker,’ he said.

I looked up at him again and met his eyes – those eyes. They were not laughing at me now. Those soft, arresting eyes of platinum were looking meaningful.

I blushed badly. ‘Thank you,’ I said.

But then the moment had past and he was laughing again. ‘Just promise me you won’t attempt the right side as well, okay? I fear for the health of our already exhausted kitchen staff.’

I promised I would resist and he laughed again, saying through those sonorous tones that he had meant no offence by his jokes, so I took none. I could not imagine being offended by this man.

‘Miss Ashley, I hear you wish to go sight seeing tomorrow,’ said Sir Carston, from across the table. He wiped his grey moustache with a napkin and leaned back in his chair so a waiter could remove his plate. ‘That is very enthusiastic of you, I must say. You’ve hardly settled in at all.’

‘Well, I think it’s wonderful,’ said Mrs Hill, squeezing my hand a little under the table. ‘The gel’s got spirit!’

‘Oh, indeed,’ said Sir Carston. ‘Where do you plan to take her, Alex?’

‘She wants to go to the Giza plateau to see the Great Pyramid,’ he said.

Mr Williams coughed politely. ‘Actually,’ he said, ‘you have a lunch appointment with the curator of the Egyptian Museum tomorrow, Mr Dalton.’

‘Yes, you’re quite right, David,’ said Alex. ‘Later on in the week then, dear.’

Later on in the week? What did he expect me to do until then? To me the scene had seemed a little too rehearsed. Alex was hardly looking apologetic.

‘I shall have to go alone then,’ I said, determined that I wasn’t going to just sit around and wait for an escort.

‘Oh, you can’t do that,’ said Sir Carston. ‘A gel like yourself could get hurt.’

A gel like myself? What exactly was a girl like myself? I frowned. ‘I’m sure I will be fine.’

‘Love, listen to Sir Carston,’ said Rosalinde, taking my hand again. ‘Good God, we’d be worried sick about you.’

I looked desperately at Shaw for help, but he only looked at me with a sheepish look in his eyes.

‘It probably isn’t a good idea,’ he said. ‘You’d be safe enough with the people –’

‘These ruffians?’ said Alex. ‘By the Almighty, I wouldn’t trust one as far as I could throw one.’

‘They are not violent people. Especially to women and children.’

‘Is that right?’ asked Rosalinde.

‘Yes. They are not like us. I have no doubt of Miss Parker’s safety with them. I merely meant that it is easy to get lost in a place you don’t know. You yourself, Alex, got lost at least a dozen times if I remember right.’

Alex didn’t admit this, and Shaw’s eyes flicked to me guardedly, a look of begging forgiveness in them. I relented, but only because I couldn’t bear to see the look of knowing betrayal in his attractive face.

‘So we’ll go another time, dear,’ said Alex.

I nodded carefully. Rosalinde squeezed my hand again suddenly, quickly and brusquely.

‘Oh, wait a bit,’ she said. ‘Didn’t you say you were going to Memphis tomorrow, Daniel?’

Shaw looked up at me sharply and then at her. He hesitated. ‘Um, yes, ma’am. I’ve some business to tend to there.’

‘Oh, what a stroke of luck,’ said Sir Carston, who had obviously been reading the same page as Rosalinde. I, however, was still a chapter behind. ‘You see, Alex, everything works out eventually.’

‘I’m afraid I don’t follow, old chap.’

‘Well, Shaw could take the gel with him. Show her around a bit. That ought to satisfy her for a while.’

Alex glared at me as if I had suggested the idea. I felt myself recoiling under his stare.

‘What do you say, Shaw, hey?’ said Sir Carson.

There was a slight colour to Shaw’s face now, and he knocked some cold vegetables about on his plate mindlessly.

‘I’d be glad for the company actually,’ he said. ‘That is, if you don’t mind tagging along, Miss Parker?’

I didn’t dare look at Alex. ‘I’m sure I wouldn’t mind at all,’ I said.

‘There, it’s settled then,’ said Sir Carston delightedly.

‘Yes,’ said Alex. He put down his napkin and folded his arms across his chest. I’d seen this look before. But he did not attack me, instead he turned to Shaw. ‘Tell me, Daniel, what sort of business do you have to take care of in Memphis?’

‘Just an old property,’ Shaw said shortly.

‘Oh, of course, you used to live in Memphis, didn’t you?’

Alex was grinning and the tone was nasty. He’d decided to attack Shaw not me. My palms started to sweat. Here it comes, I thought. The jealous fiancé routine. I wanted to tell him to cut it out, knowing just how nasty he could be when he got like this, but curiosity got the better of me. I actually wanted to know what Mr Shaw was going to say.

‘That’s right,’ he said.

‘Live in Egypt?’ said Sir Carston, acutely surprised. ‘Goodness, for how long, lad?’

‘A while,’ said Shaw.

‘Well, I never. Don’t like London much, no?’

‘Not especially.’ Shaw sat back happily in his chair. He didn’t look antagonised but I felt that he didn’t like being the centre of these peoples’ attention either.

‘There’s not much work in London for an Egyptologist, Sir Carston.’

‘No, I suppose not. But living out here indefinitely, I mean, with all these people and this food. It’s nice, don’t get me wrong, just I don’t think I could stand it all the time. How does your wife feel about it?’

This had come as a shock to me. The idea that Shaw might be married hadn’t once crossed my mind, and now it loitered there like a dead weight.

‘Actually, Sir Carston, I like the Egyptian community. I have many friends here. And everyone of them are honest hard-working people. Not one has ever cheated or said so much as an unkind word to a kinsman. I wish I could say the same about people I’ve met from London. It’s a whole different world out here.’

‘I’ll say.’

‘I find it better. And as for the food, well, it suits me just fine.’

‘And your wife?’ I asked apprehensively.

Shaw looked at me with passionate knowing eyes and I wondered if he looked at everyone in the same way. A part of me hoped he did not.

‘Actually, Miss Parker,’ he said gently, ‘I’m not married.’

‘Oh, a bachelor,’ said Sir Carston approvingly. I knew he himself was not married either. ‘Well, don’t worry, lad, I’m sure you’ll find the right gel one day.’

He blushed badly this time, which made me smile. His sensitivity was certainly refreshing compared to Alex’s hard self-absorbed temperament, but I thought the blush a little too unlike him, and wondered what had induced it.

‘Have you always wanted to be an Archaeologist, Mr Shaw?’ asked Carrie Williams. This was the first time I had heard her speak. It was a little meek voice not much unlike her appearance.

‘Egyptologist, Carrie,’ said her husband quickly. ‘Mr Shaw is an Egyptologist.’

‘I’ve pretty much grown up with the idea actually, Mrs Williams,’ said Shaw, smiling all the while. ‘My father was an Egyptologist.’

Alex blew his nose loudly on his handkerchief. ‘So you’re going to sell up, are you? Can’t afford to keep two properties, I’d imagine.’

‘Alex, don’t,’ I scolded, furious at him and immediately embarrassed for Mr Shaw.

‘I don’t need two houses, Alex,’ he said, apparently unruffled because he was still maintaining a level of light-heartedness in his voice. ‘And I shall probably rent out my one in Giza for the winter months.’

‘What will you do in the winter,’ asked Rosalinde.

‘I plan to move to Luxor, ma’am,’ he said. ‘There’s plenty of work there I’ve been dying to finish.’

‘Have you actually found anything significant out her, Mr Shaw?’ I asked.

‘Nothing of value,’ snorted Alex, tasting a new bottle of wine. ‘Isn’t that right, Daniel?’

‘That depends on your definition of value, Alex. I’m an Egyptologist not a fortune hunter. Everything I pull out of the sand is valuable.’

‘Broken pots and trinkets, you mean?’

I tried to kick Alex under the table, but the table was round and I got Mr Williams instead.

‘Just as you say, Alex,’ said Shaw. ‘But like I said, I’m not after fame.’

‘Carnarvon found a whole tomb of treasure a few years back. Do you remember, darling?’

I nodded. I did remember. The article in the newspaper had fascinated me.

‘You mean Carter, I think,’ said Shaw.

Alex pretended to look vague. I knew he knew that it had been Howard Carter who had discovered the tomb, but Carnarvon was a fifth Earl, and that was what was important to Alex.

‘I’m sorry, who?’ he said. ‘An Archaeologist was he?’

Shaw ran his fingers through his hair coolly. He was agitated and he was finding it difficult to hide, so I decided to change to the subject.

‘So what exactly are you looking for out here, Alex? Is it something in particular?’

‘It’s not a thing, Ashley,’ he snapped. ‘And it’s things you wouldn’t understand.’

‘I might,’ I said, blushing. ‘If you’d explain it too me then I might.’

He threw up his hands, sighing. ‘The Ankh of Life,’ he said.

‘What’s that?’

Alex chuckled arrogantly. ‘You see, I told you you wouldn’t understand.’

‘An ankh is an Egyptian symbol, Miss Parker,’ explained Shaw. ‘In most cases it represents the life-giving qualities of the world, like air and water. It looks kind of like a cross actually. It’s a very common amulet.’

‘And that’s what you’re looking for is it?’

‘No, what we’re looking for is the relic known as the Breath of Life.’

‘She doesn’t understand, Daniel. You’re wasting you breath.’

‘You’ve heard of the Holy Grail, right,’ said Shaw, ignoring him.

‘Of course,’ I said.

‘Same sort of thing. This Breath of Life relic is said to have phenomenal healing powers. Cures the blind. Heals the crippled. A religious symbol apparently touched by the heavenly couple Isis and Osiris themselves.’

‘And the fact that it’s made of solid gold might interest the gel,’ said Sir Carston.

‘Well, that’s not really true,’ said Shaw. ‘We believe and perhaps hope that it is made of gold. The truth is, Sir Carston, we’ve only a few references to the relic and only three of them have mentioned its appearance. Two say gold, but for all we know it could be carved from stone. It’s not that unlikely.’

‘Yes, but still,’ I said. ‘If it really is like the grail, who cares what it’s made of? Just think what wonderful things it could do!’

‘But we’d have to be careful who got their hands on it.’

‘Well, yes. But you haven’t managed to find it yet?’

He leaned forward onto the table, resting on his elbows with a concentrated look on his face.

‘It was placed in the Temple of Isis on the Island of Time,’ he said. ‘My guess is about twenty-five hundred B.C.’

‘And you don’t know where that is?’

‘Oh, we know where it is. The temple was excavated years ago, but the relic wasn’t there.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘It was stolen.’

‘Stolen? But who would do such a thing?’

‘Tomb robbers,’ he said. ‘Soon after it was made I’d imagine.’

‘That’s awful.’

‘People were hungry. Tomb robbers were extremely common then and even now for that matter. But I agree. It was an awful thing to do. Of course, it does make our job a little more interesting. Alex’s team haven’t had any luck on their dig yet.’

‘You don’t sound surprised,’ said Sir Carston.

‘Alex knows my views on that site. We’ll leave it at that, shall we?’

‘What about your team, Mr Shaw?’ I asked.

Those eyes flicked to me again. The smile had long since left them.

‘I work alone, Miss Parker.’

‘Yes, that’s true, dear,’ said Alex. ‘You see, basically, Daniel thinks we’re all incompetent idiots.’

‘I’m sure that’s not what the lad meant –’ Sir Carston began.

‘It’s not what I meant,’ Shaw admitted.

‘There, you see? No need to fly off the handle.’

‘Your team are quite capable actually. They’re all good men.’

Alex let his guard down all at once and preened. That’s it, I thought. Tell him he’s a good boy and he’ll shut up.

‘In fact, I would go so far as to say that they are one of the best teams that I’ve seen for a long while.’

A strong feeling surged through the caverns of my mind, warning bells ringing in my head. The smile was not on Shaw’s lips now either.

‘You’re the only person I believe to be an idiot.’

Queue the volcano –

Alex sprung from his seat in hot-headed rage, reaching across the table for Shaw’s throat, swearing and shouting threats. But Sir Carston, with his enormous bulk, managed to put himself in the way and held him back so that the distance between the two men was never breached.

Shaw hadn’t even flinched when Alex had erupted, or shown the slightest bit of concern towards the man who had wanted to break his nose. Instead, he simply lay down the napkin neatly beside the almost untouched plate and rose from the table.

I was suddenly aware that I was standing next to him. I had absolutely no idea how I’d gotten there, but I was now standing over the flinching Mrs Williams in the space between my fiancé and Shaw. Had I been trying to stop Alex or protect Shaw? I had no idea.

He past a fleeting look over me and said, ‘I should go. I’m sorry.’

‘No, you don’t have to,’ I said, touching his arm. ‘Alex is through now, aren’t you, Alex?’

Alex pulled his dinner jacket back into a respectable position and ran a hand over his head to smooth down his disturbed hair. He grunted.

‘No, really, I’ve got some things to do.’

His eyes were soft when they met mine, but still hurt and dull. He hadn’t meant to say what he did and he was truly sorry for doing so. He glanced at my hand still on his arm and I removed it.

‘My welcome ran out a long time ago, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to start a fight.’

‘But you haven’t had dessert yet,’ I protested, like it somehow mattered.

Laughter came back to his face.

‘That’s all right,’ he said, stepping away from the table. ‘You can have mine, Miss Parker.’

I watched him push the chair under the table and then pull some money out of his pocket. He gave it to Sir Carston and said, ‘That should be enough to cover the meal, I think.’

Sir Carston managed to look embarrassed. ‘Lad, you don’t have to –’

‘Please,’ he said. ‘It’s the least I can do. Good evening, sir. Ladies.’

He caught my eye for a moment and then he turned and walked away, disappearing from the room as casually as he had arrived.

For a moment, I just stood there staring at the money in Sir Carston’s hand. I felt bad, but mostly angry. I reached out, snatched it up in one hand, and ran after Shaw, Alex shouting after me as I almost knocked a waiter to the floor.

He was standing by the car when I got outside, facing away from me with his head hung so far that his chin was resting on his chest.

‘Mr Shaw?’

He turned quickly in the dark, his wild hair curving over one eye adding to the look of curious bewilderment on his face. He stared at me for a long time.

‘Miss Parker, what are you –’

He saw the money in my hand and looked away.

‘Please,’ I said. ‘You didn’t need to.’

He strode away from me and climbed into the car. He started the engine and ran a hand through his hair.

‘Yes, I did,’ he said. Guilt ran rampant over his tanned face. ‘I’m sorry I ruined your first evening here, Miss Parker.’

He threw the car into gear.

‘Wait!’ I cried out. ‘Can I still come to Memphis with you tomorrow?’

He was shocked, but once again, he looked at me a gentle kindness that I had only ever received from my father.

‘If you want,’ he said. ‘I’m leaving at six.’

‘I’ll be ready at five,’ I said.

He continued to stare at me, puzzled, and I was amazed that the gaze did not make me feel the slightest bit uneasy. Then he nodded and drove away.

For five minutes at least, I stood there, staring at nothing, thinking only of those quicksilver eyes and dazzling white smile, before Alex came out and took my thoughts away. I thought only then of how Shaw had been wounded, and a new hatred grew inside me for my fiancé. I lined it up with all the other ones inside me, but I let him kiss my face and went with him back into the hotel to fraternise with my own kind.

But my own kind didn’t have those eyes.


In red: Not sure if Im going to keep this relic in. Really stuck it in there for substance, and with plans to change it when I thought of something better. It really isnt anything important to the story as it's really going to be about the Hall of Records. (when that damn book arrives >.<)

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GunslingersRequiem

I hope Mr. Shaw is a demon, or some sort of powerful being. He seems rather calm and collected, and although humans can have those traits, I see him as something more. Definitely the kind of character I want to read more about. You've caught me with your story, now make me stay.

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~Kouryuu~

Lol! Don't worry! He's got demons like most people! I shall do my best to keep you here.




Rosalinde Hill walked with me back to my room that night. Hers, I had discovered, was only three doors up from mine on the other side of the corridor, something of which I was glad. I had a feeling I was going to need her soon or later.

‘Well, goodnight,’ I said, stopping outside her room.

She grabbed me by the wrist then and pulled me into the room with her. I was bewildered at first, for I wasn’t used to female contact. My mother had died when I was young and my father had never remarried himself. And the girls who I could loosely call my friends were not the grabbing wrists and shoving you into rooms kind.

‘How 'bout a scotch?’ she said, closing the door behind me.

‘Now?’

She had gone across the room and was already pouring two glasses.

‘Isn’t it a bit late?’ I ventured.

‘Oh, o' course not,’ she said, handing me the glass with the least amount in it. ‘It’s only one. And besides, it’ll help you sleep.’

I wondered if she couldn’t see the bags under my eyes.

‘I doubt I’ll have trouble sleeping, Rosalinde,’ I said, sipping from the glass anyway. ‘I’m positively shattered.’

She stared into the bottom of her glass and sat on the edge of the bed. ‘You’re going out with Daniel t'morrow, righ'?’

I said I was, and a shiver passed over my chest and caught my breath.

‘Then I’ll pour you another one.’

She poured me another drink and this time I did not refuse it. I knew what she meant and it worried me. I did not want to lie there all night tossing and turning in anticipation of the on-coming day. Of seeing … him again. Had he had the same effect on Rosalinde? I didn’t doubt it, she was a woman after all, and I hadn’t yet forgotten how Carrie Williams had suddenly joined in the conversation after he had arrived.

‘You said at dinner that you had already met Mr Shaw,’ I said.

‘Oh, yes. He’s joined us for dinner several times. O' course, Sir Carston has only met him the once before tonigh' because he only arrived in Egypt a few days ago. Although, I must say, he’s ne'er lost his cool before. That seemed very unlike him, didn’t it?’

I nodded, and for some reason felt guilty.

‘Did he take his money back?’

‘No. He wouldn’t take it.’

She bobbed her head and finished her scotch. ‘Would you like some more?’

I said I didn’t and put the glass on the dresser. ‘Actually,’ I said, ‘I think I’d just like to go to bed now.’

‘Yes, I s'pose it is rather late.’ She stood and went to the door, opening it. ‘And you must get some sleep, girl,’ she said, ‘if you’re gonna look your best for t'morrow.’

I smiled weakly at her kind round face. ‘I won’t see you in the morning before I go.’

‘That’s all right. You can tell me all about it when you get back. Oh, I do like you, Ashley! I’m so glad we met.’

‘Me too,’ I said.

‘Oh, I think we’re gonna be great friends!’

She kissed my face and then we said goodnight. I wandered back up the corridor, wobbling a little because the scotch had gone to my knees, and I opened the door to my room, realising as I did so that I had forgotten to lock it before dinner. I went inside. Alex was standing by the window doors, an unlit cigar in his hands.

‘Alex …?’

He turned to me, smiling that usual tight-lipped smile of his. ‘I came to say goodnight, my dear,’ he said. ‘But you weren’t here.’

‘I … was with Mrs Hill,’ I said. ‘She wanted to show me her room.’

Alex grunted. ‘How very like a woman.’ He twisted the cigar about in his hands and ran his fingers down the shaft to the end. ‘Well, you’ve made some friends at least.’ He looked at me sharply and I knew at once the reason. ‘And you expect me to let you go out with Daniel tomorrow, do you?’ He grunted. ‘Yes, of course you do.’

I stood in silence. Waiting. Hoping.

‘Well, I suppose as I have some real work to do, this once I’ll permit it.’

‘Thank you,’ I said.

He tasted the end of the cigar with his lips and grinned lopsidedly. I felt my stomach repel, but I did not let the feeling show on my face, as he came towards me, leering. I knew what he wanted, I could tell from that horrid grin swelling across his conceited face. He was standing right in front of me now, close, and imposing. His hands were suddenly on my shoulders, caressing the bare skin visible beside the lace. I wanted to shake those hands off, but I knew I mustn’t.

On his breath, I could smell the wine, and when his lips met mine, so strong and forceful, I could feel my heart retching.

A moment later, he was pushing his glasses back up his nose, and looking at me with those eyes that were always as cold as ice. I flushed, feeling somewhat scarred, as he moved away towards the door.

‘Don’t stay out too late tomorrow, my dear,’ he said, flippantly, turning the handle.

I forced a smile. ‘I won’t,’ I said, my insides shaking.

There was silence.

‘Good night, then,’ he said.

And then he left.

I fell down into the chair at the dressing table and held onto myself for some time after the door closed behind him. I could still feel his hot breath against my skin and that sickening taste of alcohol in my mouth.

In London, Alex had never kissed me so roughly. But he had been humiliated tonight, at that table in front of his friends, by someone I knew he considered lower than himself.

Someone with gentle eyes …

I pulled my arms tighter around myself and snapped my eyes shut.

Someone with a soft smile.



End of Chapter One.

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ClancyBoy

I like this. My only critique is that you use the conjunction "but" a lot where I think it would be better to just break the sentence in two. I think simple declaraive sentences are better than long meandering compound sentences.

How's that for picky?

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"Mother Hitton's Littul Kittons wait for you down there. Little pets they are, little little little pets. Cute little things, they say. Don't you believe it. No man ever saw them and walked away alive. You won't either. That's the final dash, flash. That's the utter clobber, cobber." --Cordwainer Smith, Norstrillia.

~Kouryuu~

Lol! No not picky! Thanks for pointing it out. I shall try and tone down on how much I use that word! :] Thank you!

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~Kouryuu~

Chapter Two

I slept very little that night, and by six the next morning I was downstairs standing in the quiet lobby waiting for Mr Shaw.

He arrived only a few minutes later, strolling through the hotel doors clean shaven and smart in beige trousers and a berry red shirt. I felt my stomach turn over and plummet to my knees.

‘Good morning,’ he said, flashing a fresh white smile at me.

I blushed for no reason. ‘Hello,’ I said.

He stopped right in front of me, and continued to stare down at me with those quicksilver eyes that I had dreamed about only an hour ago, the smile never leaving his lips, and I was glad to see that he had recovered completely from yesterday’s dinner.

‘You look tired,’ he said. ‘Didn’t you sleep well?’

I could not tell him that I had slept badly because his eyes had haunted my dreams, so I said instead, ‘Mrs Hill drinks scotch.’ And then felt rather stupid.

He laughed. ‘Makes your mouth feel like cotton, doesn’t it?’

I laughed too, mainly because I was embarrassed, but also because his laughter was contagious. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Just like cotton.’

‘Do you still want to come to Memphis?’

‘Of course,’ I said. ‘Even scotch wouldn’t stop me doing that!’

That amused him, and he seemed pleased that I was not backing out of the trip.

‘Well, all right then,’ he said. ‘Shall we go?’

I nodded happily, the presence of this man making me feel light-headed and just like the adventuresses that I’d read about in books when I was little. A feeling that I never wanted to lose. With him by my side, I exited the hotel, thankful to be leaving the place and even Alex far behind. I would not be a porcelain doll today. Today I would be Ashley.

‘You’ll be pleased to know,’ he said, ‘that we won’t be taking my car to Memphis. So don’t worry, you won’t have to endure my driving again, I promise!’

‘I didn’t actually think that there was anything wrong with your driving, Mr Shaw.’

‘Well, I think Alex would take the opposite view!’ he said, laughing. ‘And I think he’s a little worried about getting his fiancé back in one piece.’

‘So how will get to Memphis if we’re not driving?’

Shaw smiled. ‘The same way everyone else gets to Memphis, Miss Parker. Up the Nile.’

‘By boat?’

‘Yes. Well, felucca anyway.’

We were walking towards the river in the twilight hour, Shaw just ahead, guiding me over uneven ground with his hand pressed firmly into mine, strangely bouncing in his strides like an excited child and I followed him all the way to the waters edge. Dozens of single masted boats occupied the Niles bank and the jetty, so small that they would have been big enough to seat only a handful of people if they all sat around its edges.

‘Tell me that isn’t a felucca,’ I said.

Shaw smiled and turned to look at me, hilarity in his mist coloured eyes. ‘You’re not afraid of boats are you?’

‘That depends,’ I said. ‘Are they safe?’

‘Of course.

‘Well, which one is ours?’

‘Um …?’

Shaw looked about himself, eyeing the lines of boats tied securely to the jetty that stuck out across the width of the Nile. His eyes stopped, catching sight of something, and suddenly a mischievous expression ran across his face, curving his lips.

‘Wait here,’ he instructed.

I watched him jog along side the water’s edge towards an Arab man unloading crates from a boat slightly bigger than the rest, and he slapped him heartily on the back. There were roars of laughter, and Shaw embraced the man like an old friend so I guessed that they must have known each other. Smiling, Shaw waved to me, so I sauntered over.

‘Hassan, this is Miss Parker.’

The Arab took hold of my hand and shook it with force, grinning from ear to ear as he did so. He was short standing against Mr Shaw’s great height, and fat, but he seemed to be very nice.

‘Hello,’ I said.

‘Sa″īda! Sa″īda! Nice meet you!’

‘Hassan is a fisherman. He’s going to give us a lift to Memphis,’ Shaw told me.

‘Yes, yes! Come, come!’

The little man, dressed in long clothing pulled against my arm, smiling a toothless grin as he neared the boat.

‘What, in that?’ I pointed in horror at the vessel bobbing up and down in the water. It was green, but the paint was sun baked and crisp and flaking off, and to me looked about as sea worthy as it would have done if it had been made of paper.

Shaw touched my arm in an act of encouragement.

‘Hassan’s a great sailor,’ he said. ‘Aren’t you, Hassan?’

The fisherman nodded gaily, rearranging crates on the deck so there would be enough room for Shaw and I.

‘What about the boat?’ I questioned.

Shaw jumped aboard next to the Arab. ‘See? She floats. She’s a great boat …’

Hassan nodded again.

‘… Would never sink, would she?’

Hassan was still nodding.

I frowned.

Shaw elbowed the man in the ribs and then looked at me with eyes that were, for once, almost serious.

‘Come on, Miss Parker,’ he urged. ‘Dawn’s about to break.’

Reluctantly, I climbed aboard the relic, clinging desperately to Mr Shaw’s arm as Hassan the fisherman pushed us away from the bank. He showed me where I could sit and I was grateful because I wasn’t a brilliant swimmer, and I was nervous of falling in.

‘What’s so important about dawn?’ I asked.

Shaw looked down at me. ‘I said I’d show you some sights,’ he said.

‘Yes, but –’

‘Sunrise on your first day in Egypt, Miss Parker, is one sight, you of all people, will not want to miss, trust me.’

I wondered what he meant by that, but then, only moments after he had spoken, from the east, the sky streaked with green light. The morning stars twinkled through the twilight, which was turning into an unbelievable shade of lavender.

Hassan pulled the sail down to catch the wind.

‘Oh, it’s so beautiful!’ I said, sighing.

‘Wait,’ Shaw whispered. ‘It’s coming.’

Before our eyes, the lavender hue deepened into orange, and then the titanic red disk of the sun appeared on the skyline, setting the heavens on fire. The Nile of blue blushed in its wonderment and the song of the morning breeze strengthened.

Hassan handed the helm over to Mr Shaw, who without question took it and looked as though he had done many times before. Adorning the maker of the sun, Hassan was now on his knees with his head bowed eastward. His turban had turned pink and his shadow on the glowing deck was transformed into a shade of blue that I had never seen before.

I turned to Shaw, desperate to thank him for letting me come, but his eyes were closed, his flawless face illuminated in the sun’s brilliance. It gave me the most curious feeling, as if he had many secrets hiding behind those soft storm coloured eyes and good looks.

And I realised before I could stop the thought, that I wanted to know them all.

__________________

~Kouryuu~

Daniel Shaw told me that it would take at least four hours to get to Memphis in our boat, but as he had suspected, I was not in the least bothered.

The felucca was silent and gentle in the water, and it hardly felt like I was in a boat at all. But from time to time, as the bigger paddle boats passed us, enough sensation was created to make me believe that I was really cruising down the River Nile, the longest of all the rivers in the world, with a short Egyptian fisherman who squinted when he smiled, and a man who was certainly a lot more handsome than he realised.

Hassan had fixed up a canopy when the sun had begun to get hot, fitting the four tall poles into the four holes in the seats. A sheet stretched out above us just below the yardarm, patterned with small lilac flowers, but despite its hideous appearance, it really did keep the heat of the sun away.

I felt so much like one of the adventuresses from the stack of books in my room back home and even toyed with the idea of pulling the pins from my hair and shaking it out loose. I’d already shed my hat, now laying on the deck beneath where I was sitting, but I wasn’t quite ready to release myself. I wanted to observe Shaw for a little while longer yet.

He was sitting opposite me, his trim body twisted to face the way we were sailing so he could put one leg up beside himself, resting back casually against one of the canopy poles. He looked relaxed, almost at home in this flaking felucca, his bronzed face illuminated not by the sun but by contentment, and I found myself yearning to glow like that, to be that at ease with life. I was not at ease. No matter how much I tried to kid myself, I would never glow the way Shaw glowed.

‘How’re you doing over there?’

I looked around sharply. He was watching me.

‘I’m all right,’ I said.

‘Are you sure? You looked a little pale just then.’

I wondered if he had been studying me as avidly as I had been studying him. For what purpose I still wasn’t sure, but I liked the gentle presence of security that surrounded him, and I realised that I had never felt as safe with anyone as I did with him.

‘Will you tell me a bit about Memphis?’ I asked.

He laughed lightly and swung his leg down off the seat to face me, more impressed, I think, than amused at my want of his knowledge.

‘That’s a lot of history to cover,’ he said, a soft tone of playfulness in his baritone voice.

‘Well, we have got four hours,’ I said.

He leaned forward onto his knees, smiling deeply with his pistol smoke eyes.

‘True.’

‘Just a brief history,’ I said. ‘Just so I know what I’m looking at when I get there.’

‘In all honesty there isn’t an awful lot to look at. Most of the ancient buildings never survived.’

I could see the same look of passion in Shaw’s face as I had seen on it at dinner the day before when he had spoken of the Breath of Life Ankh, and I could tell that he did not need any more encouragement from me.

‘In the period between the third and sixth dynasties,’ he said, ‘Memphis was a royal capital city, founded by Menes, a pharaoh of the first dynasty, about three thousand years before the birth of Jesus Christ. The name Memphis actually came a lot later. It’s ancient name was Ineb-hedj, meaning, “White Walls”. It wasn’t until the reign of Pepi I in the sixth dynasty that the name changed to Men-nefer.’

‘Men-nefer.’ I marvelled at the fluidity of the name rolling over my tongue.
‘It means, “Established and beautiful”,’ he said, seeming to smile rather affectionately at me from the other side of the boat. ‘It was later transliterated into Greek to become Memphis. You see, once, Egypt was divided into two lands, Upper and Lower. After they were united under the double crown, which is depicted as the pharaoh wearing both crowns one on top of the other, the pharaoh became “Lord of the Two Lands”. Consequently, he needed a real administrative city, a place where he could easily control both of the lands. What better place than at the apex of the Nile Delta? So Memphis is also sometimes referred to as “The balance of the two lands”.

Holding firmly onto the side, I shifted my legs up beside me, sitting a little more comfortable as I listened to Mr Shaw speak. His voice was hypnotising and I found myself becoming lost in his excitement and adoration of a world that was so different to the one that I knew.

‘The first temple in Egypt is said to have been built there. A temple to the city’s chief deity, Ptah.’

‘Ptah.’ I tested the word until I got it right. ‘A god?’ I asked.

Shaw nodded. ‘The creator god, in fact.’

He pulled a small dog-eared notebook from his trouser pocket and a stub of a well-used pencil, and quickly he sketched something out.

‘Here, he looks like that. You’ll see him a lot while you’re here I should think.’

I took the pad from him. He was kneeling in front of me now on the deck, an excited scholarly look in his handsome face that gave him a certain child-like air.

He’d drawn a picture of a bald-headed man with a straight beard, wearing a tight fitting garment not much unlike the wrappings of a mummy. A strange staff was in his hands and Shaw briefly explained that this was a combined staff made up of three symbols; the long pole was staff of strength or power, the ankh, which he had already explained to me at dinner, and the djed pillar of stability.

‘He looks like a mummy,’ I said, feeling a little stupid for doing so. But Shaw did not laugh at me.

‘It’s supposed to emphasise his role as the measurer of time. “I am yesterday, today, and tomorrow for I am born again and again. I am the Lord of Resurrection who comes forth from the dusk”.’

Once again, I was in awe of Shaw.

‘The theological beliefs of Memphis were recorded on a granite slab in the twenty-fifth dynasty,’ he said. ‘But I think there’s some dispute as to whether the text refers to Ptah as the Creator of the Nine Gods, the Ennead, or as the cause of the creation of the Great Ennead, the mouth that encouraged their birth.’

‘Oh, I love all this mythology,’ I said. ‘It’s all so uncertain. It gives a sense of wonder and magic to the place, doesn’t it?’

I was surprised when Shaw blushed, but I had noticed how terribly sensitive and guarded he was when it came to talking about his work, and I wondered if he needed those stories of an ancient era in the same way that I needed my stories of adventuresses.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I guess it does.’

‘Oh, do tell me some more. There must be so much you haven’t told me yet.’

He laughed. ‘What, about Memphis?’

‘There must be more.’

He nodded, still laughing at me. ‘What exactly is it that you would like to know?’

‘You said it was once the capital?’

‘Well, yes, sort of. I suppose the concept is a bit modern, but it was the main centre of Egypt at the time. It’s a shame nothing’s left of the actual city.’

Shaw sat back on the seat opposite me, leaning against the canopy pole, and I knew at once that that twinkle passing over his eyes was not the reflection of the water, but a glimmer of passion.

‘Memphis suffered badly during the Ptolemaic Period,’ he said, talking to me as if I was also an Egyptologist. ‘The building of the new city of Alexandria overtook in importance. And again after the Arab invasion in the ninth century when the capital of Cairo was founded, the buildings were used as a quarry. Mud bricks were taken from the walls of the houses, broken up and used as fertiliser. Nowadays, most of what remains of the old city is underneath the new one, probably never to be found.’

‘How sad,’ I said.

Shaw nodded. And I believed he really did feel the sorrow.

‘How long do you think ‘til we get there?’

He shrugged. ‘A couple of hours, maybe. I’m sorry, this probably seems pretty boring to you, but I really must go to Memphis today.’

‘Oh, no. It’s not boring at all. I’m glad you let me come. And I love the stories you tell. They’re so interesting.’

Shaw smiled. ‘Egypt’s full of stories, Miss Parker.’

The fisherman Hassan spoke then. It wasn’t in English, but whatever he’d said it had obviously amused Mr Shaw because he was laughing, and he followed Hassan’s pointed finger, with his bright eyes, to the sky and then to me.

I found myself blushing under their fond stares.

‘What did he say?’ I asked.

‘He said that you’ve brought Ra onto our side because the wind has picked up,’ Shaw explained smiling.

‘Ra?’

‘The Sun God of ancient legend.’

‘But why would I have –’

Shaw simply touched his head and I knew at once that the reason was the colour of my hair. Again, I blushed.

‘I guess they don’t see many women with red hair out here, do they?’

‘Ramesses the second had red hair,’ Shaw said, smiling as he sat back contentedly and brought his leg back up beside him. ‘Maybe you’re a distant relation.’

‘Maybe,’ I said, countering his humour.

And Shaw laughed.

__________________