“Quiet!” Ramses shouted, standing on the trunk. He pointed at two of the largest men. “You will carry the trunk. The rest of you will surround them on all sides and watch for anyone who appears suspicious. I do not wish for blood to be shed unless it is necessary. Once we are at the train station and the trunk is loaded into the cargo car, I will distribute baksheesh to all and the reward to the man I deem most helpful.”

The men quieted down and closed their mouths, although their expressions were resentful. Ramses stepped off the trunk and instructed the designated carriers to assume their places. He, David, and Latif led the unruly assemblage through grimy back streets to the train station. The platform was crowded, but not unusually so. Ramses selected a far corner for his temporary stronghold and motioned to his followers. Along the way, some of the fellahin had faded away, but the majority, motivated by avarice (and perhaps by their fear of the Brother of Demons) formed a barrier surrounding the trunk.

Ramses scrutinized his fellow travelers, who were staring at him. No one appeared to be plotting an assault. He admitted to himself that he had spoken impetuously when he claimed he could recognize Sethos in even the most devious disguise. The majority of the men, clad in thobes and kaffiyehs, had mustaches and beards that concealed their lower faces; the women were dressed in modest abayas, their hair invisible under hijabs. The foreign tourists were easily identified by their ordinary clothing and sunburned faces. Professor Ambrose Doyle, one of Sethos’s most recent personae, was not present.

David had taken two bodyguards with him when he went to purchase tickets. He handed one to Ramses and said, “If Gunter is nearby, he has concealed himself well. I had a brief glimpse of one of the thugs who accosted me outside the hotel, and I have not seen anyone else who is vaguely familiar. Do you think we will board the train and be on our way without incident?”

“Inshallah,” Ramses answered distractedly, still scanning the faces of those on the platform. “I am sorry we did not have an opportunity to send a telegram informing my parents of our arrival.”

“Well, I did while you went on your recruitment excursion. Tahir promised to barricade the door and arm himself with the footstool. Nobody attempted to break inside the apartment.”

“While you exposed yourself to Gunter’s thugs! Damnation, David, they would have tortured you until you told them where to find the bust of Nefertiti. Rescuing you the first time was exhilarating, but I doubt I will continue to feel that way if it becomes habitual. I am embarrassed that Sethos concocted the scheme and delegated me to be his underling.”

“You could have been kidnapped as easily,” David retorted with a scowl. “Unless you believe yourself to be invincible, of course. You have been captured on occasion, if I recall.”