With both hands flat on the table top, he waited for the wheezing to subside and as he did so, a daring plan occurred to him. What if he moved now? This afternoon, while the revels were in progress? Not such a gamble, really. Most of the common rabble were half-cut down there, it was only the other supervisors that need concern him — and that was where he could use his position to advantage.
'Why not!'
That's what he'd do. He needed to act fast, the stench was overwhelming and the herbs he'd hung had made precious little difference. There was, as his mother used to say, no time like the present.
She was wrong, of course.
The present is meaningless, it is the future which counts, and the future was in Seth's power and the future belonged to him. Why not bring the future forward? Advance the holy schedule?
He moved to the mouth of the cave, gazing down upon the bewigged heads of the drunken, swaying proselytes. They did not know the Dark One moved among them, seeking vengeance, wreaking his destruction. Therefore, in his mortal guise, he should easily be able to winkle out the little rabbit from her hole or, failing that, there was no reason why he couldn't reverse the order and get that spunky bitch from Rome up here instead. The quickness of the hand deceives the eye, and — oh, sweet Ra! — suppose he got the two at once! Flavia and whatshername. His loins jumped into action. The two together.
His breathing was harsh and ragged. After that, I only need one other.
And by then it wouldn't matter who he'd seized, or how, because by the time the hue and cry was raised, Seth would have worked his spells and turned these women into gods, real gods, not fakes like those who assembled in the temple and conned the people out of money.
'I,' he said, positioning the striking cobra mask on Berenice, 'am The Master of Darkness, the Sorcerer, the Measurer of Time. Only I have the power to transform my disciples into divinities and rule over you for all eternity.'
It occurred to him that the girl from the laundry was keeping very quiet while all this was going on. He hoped she wasn't jealous.
Shit! The bitch had gone and died on him! He kicked her hard on the shins, and slapped her face.
'Bitch!' He kicked her in the stomach. 'I haven't finished with you, yet.'
Laying into her with fists did not dampen his arousal, and he looked sadly at his magnificent erection. For a moment he considered taking the bitch anyway, but Seth was no barbarian.
He was the Commander of the Dark, Controller of Man's Destiny, Master of Restraint.
He did not shag dead whores for his satisfaction. Even when they cheated him.
He'd make her pay, that one. In the Afterlife, he'd bloody make her pay, you wait. Meanwhile, four masks remained unclaimed upon the table. He ran loving hands over them all. The vulture he'd allocated to that ugly duckling, Flavia and the gold mask of Osiris he would save till last. Oh, but how Osiris would be last! He thought of Mentu, with his wives and gold and cushions, and felt a prick of happiness at how the bastard would react when he finally realised that Seth the Dark One had prevailed.
Seth, who he had ignored and who had taken the ultimate revenge!
In resurrection he would rule the gods for all eternity. And when he died, that bastard Mentu would know who he would face the day his heart was weighed. Seth! To whom he for ever must bend the knee.
But he was doing something, what was it? Oh, yes, the masks. He had two choices, didn't he? The black jackal or the crocodile.
'There you go.' The man who had convinced himself that he was Seth set the heavy mask upon the shoulders of the little laundress. 'You worked with water, you treacherous bitch, you might as well spend eternity in it.'
The crocodile grinned inanely back.
Chapter Twenty-nine
The stables smelled of horse dung, donkey fur, fresh-mown hay and leather. Claudia, the city girl, pinched her nose and thought, this is a funny place to find a dog, among the mokes and mules. Stranger still the dogs weren't running free. Why kennel them? As she leaned over the rail, a variety of canine greetings issued forth, from low-pitched growls to yelps to barks and a score of hounds reared up, backed off, hunkered low or bared their teeth. And from this seething forest of paws squeezed a round, black roly-poly pudding.
'Hello, champ!'
Such was the little fellow's hurry that his jellified legs were going every which way except the right direction, then whoosh! all four were in the air at once as he tried to reach her, whimpering, squealing and (oh dear) wetting his little self in the happy process.
'Doodle-noodle.' Claudia lifted him out of the pen, ruffled his hard, black head and scrunched around his floppy ears. 'Much more of your exuberance, and I'll leave you behind!'
Doodlebug didn't fall for that one. His fat pink tongue continued swishing round her face and neck, his button eyes brighter than a dozen beeswax candles. Dogs, he licked, might be my species, but I'm much more at home with you and Flea. Can we go now? He rolled over, while he asked the question.
A shadow fell across his bald, pink tummy. 'Thought I'd find you here.'
Two curly slippered toes appeared beside the squirming pup. Dammit, with all that barking going on, she hadn't heard the Grand Vizier approach.
'Thought over my proposal, have you?'
Claudia felt a chill run down her spine. She stood up and looked him in the eye before she answered. 'You mean, your proposition?
Min smiled. 'I mean trade, m'dear. Man in my position carries influence. Be nice to me — ' two hot hands closed over Claudia's breasts — 'and I can save that girl the ordeal of a public trial and, hrrumph, inevitable execution.'
Claudia willed her own hands not to swat his away. Flea's life hung in the balance, she daren't risk Min's wrath. His vengeance. Spurn him now, and he'd kill Flea out of spite.
'So I'm supposed to go to your bedroom and-'
'Bedroom?' Pudgy hands moved in loathsome circles. 'Consider my getting your friend off the hook deserves something rather more adventurous than a quickie, don't you, m'dear?' Min tweaked her nipples before releasing them. 'You have imagination. Use it.'
'I'm using it right now,' she said. Bastard. 'I'm imagining you're bluffing. I'm imagining that, when Mentu sits in judgement, the Grand Vizier has no influence whatsoever on the outcome of Flea's — ouch!'
The stinging slap had sent her sprawling backwards on the hay. The dogs, on the far side of the barrier, went wild.
'Never misjudge the influence I carry,' Min hissed, breathing over her. 'Never underestimate my power, you don't know the half of it!' Then he straightened up and, just like earlier in the corridor outside his room, there followed a lightning switch of personality. 'Tonight we celebrate the Festival of Lamps,' he said pleasantly. 'I'll be outside the House of Life at midnight. Don't,' he snarled, 'keep me waiting.'
As quietly as he arrived, the stocky Grand Vizier departed, leaving no trace other than a throbbing, swollen cheek and a foul and sullied memory.
Claudia brushed her gown, as though she could brush away the reminder of his touch. Min wasn't bluffing about this kangaroo court and Flea's summary execution, it was another way of weeding out the trouble-makers, with no stain on anybody's conscience! She rubbed the linen where his hands had touched her breasts. Damn that fat toad to hell! Oh, Flea, you stupid, stupid bitch. What possessed you to go stealing from the Barque of Ra, for heaven's sake? Claudia recalled the girl who Min had raped, and knew he hadn't taken her so much for sexual pleasure as control.
Claudia had a feeling that gratification came in many twisted forms round here.