“Rudolf the second,” replied Haven crisply. “Everyone knows that. I am astonished you should ask.”
“I was just making sure you knew.” He started off again just as the bells in the cathedral tower began to ring. Within moments, every other church bell throughout the city began chiming as well, urging the faithful to attend Mass.
“Will we see His Majesty?” asked Haven after a moment. “I should very much like to.”
“It is possible,” Burleigh allowed. “If he happens to hear that I have come for a visit, he may demand an audience. He fancies himself leading a renaissance of science and likes to keep a finger in every pie.”
“Is that why you have chosen Prague to have this instrument made?”
Burleigh cast a quick sideways glance at his companion. She was a quick-witted lass; beneath those russet curls was a mind as quick and supple as any he had ever met. “Very good, my dear. Yes, the science here is in its infancy, but their craftsmanship is more than adequate to my purpose. They are amenable and do not ask many questions.” He paused, then added, “Unlike yourself.”
“You flatter me, sir,” she replied brightly.
The street rose steeply before them and began winding its way up the hill to the palace precinct, passing rows of tidy houses and shops. The people going about their business seemed reasonably well-dressed and prosperous and, above all, clean. The front steps of the dwellings were washed, the windows too-even the streets were swept, and the rubbish left in neat little piles for the refuse cart to collect.
As they walked along, Haven kept an eye out for the coffee shop, hoping to inveigle Burleigh into stopping for a cup of the fashionable elixir. But she did not see it, and they climbed higher into the city, very soon arriving at the palace gate, which was open to allow visitors to pass through unimpeded. They crossed the yard and were met by two guardsmen in gleaming silver breastplates and helmets. They crossed their long pikes in a ceremonial barring of the way until Burleigh, speaking in rough German, stated his name, title, and business.
Whatever he told them, the guards raised their weapons and allowed the two visitors to continue; they passed beneath the statue of Saint George slaying the dragon and into the great vestibule of the palace. There they were intercepted by one of the imperial ushers-youths whose duty it was to conduct the emperor’s guests to their desired destinations.
Again Burleigh spoke a few words, and they were escorted deeper into the warren of rooms and buildings that was the imperial residence. “How is your German?” asked Burleigh as they progressed along a seemingly endless gallery.
“Why, sir, I have no knowledge of the language at all,” confessed Haven readily.
“You know more than you think you do,” the earl informed her. “Since you speak English, you already know a thousand words or more. However, you will not be required to speak. Just pay attention and you can pick up most of what you need to know by way of gesture and situation. Just remember, the Bohemians are very formal people.”
They arrived at a large panelled door and stopped. The usher knocked on the door for them and a voice from inside answered, whereupon the usher bowed and stepped away, indicating that they should enter.
“After you, my dear,” said Burleigh.
CHAPTER 19
Kit woke from the first deep and restful sleep he had known in weeks. He lay for a while listening to the sound of water slapping gently against the hull of the dahabiya-such a serenely peaceful sound. Rousing himself, he sat up and realised that the boat was moving. Wearing the nightshirt the doctor had given him, he crept from his room and up the companion way to the deck above. It was almost dawn, and the captain was taking the boat upriver. Luxor was behind them already, and ahead, only the green banks of the Nile with date palms and fields of flowering sesame on either side.
“Good morning, my friend!” called a voice from the raised quarterdeck at the stern of the boat. “Fancy a drop of tea?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Kit answered. Moving to the steps leading to the higher deck, he saw Thomas, in a silk dressing gown, enthroned in a large rattan chair with a gently steaming mug between his hands. On a low table beside his chair was Wilhelmina’s letter. Kit joined him, drawing up another of the rattan chairs from its place at the rail.
“I do my best thinking this time of day,” Thomas told him. “Cooler, more conducive to clear thoughts.” He removed the cosy from a painted ceramic pot, poured another mug, and passed it to Kit. “Whenever I am faced with an intractable problem, I find tea helps concentrate my mind.”
“Nothing like the first cup in the morning,” agreed Kit. “Is there milk?”
“In the jug. Please, help yourself.” As Kit poured, he added, “It’s camel milk, by the way.”
Kit took an exploratory sip-sweet and mildly nutty, he decided, but wholly acceptable. The two men drank in silence for a moment, watching the riverbank slowly slide by beneath a sky the colour of rose petals. After a while the doctor said, “I have been awake half the night thinking about your problem.”
Mehmet the steward came with a fresh pot of tea and took away the old one. The doctor refreshed their cups, settled back in his chair, and said, “What are you prepared to tell me about this artefact we hope to find in the tomb?”
Kit thought for a moment. “You know about ley travel-as described by Wilhelmina.”
“Interdimensional transportation, yes.” Young became keen. His steel glasses flashed in the early-morning light. “That is an area I intend delving into in far greater depth, but for purposes of this present discussion we will consider it amply demonstrated.” He took a sip of tea. “Continue.”
“Well, the phenomenon was discovered, or at least actively pursued, by a man named Arthur Flinders-Petrie, who roamed around exploring the various ley connections and their destinations. He recorded his findings on a map.”
“A very prudent fellow,” approved the doctor. “I like him already.”
“In order to preserve the map and, I suppose, have it ready in any circumstance, he had it tattooed on his body.” Kit ran a hand over his chest and torso. “That way, the map was permanent and could never be lost.”
“Ingenious.”
“They call it the Skin Map, and it takes the form of a very sophisticated symbol code. I have seen some of the symbols, but I don’t know how to read them yet.”
“You have seen this map of skin?”
“Not exactly-I mean, I have seen an imitation of it. My great-grandfather, Cosimo-he had found a portion of the map and kept it under lock and key. But when we went to look at it, we found someone had stolen the original and substituted a poor copy instead. The copy was worthless.”
“You said it was only a piece,” Thomas pointed out. “Do you mean that the map has been apportioned in some way?”
“It has,” confirmed Kit. “Cosimo thought the original map had been divided into at least four pieces. Why it was divided, and who divided it, we have no idea. There was a suggestion that it was cut up to protect the original secret of the map in some way, but I don’t think anybody really knows. Nevertheless, in the years Cosimo spent in the chase, he succeeded in finding one piece. I never learned how.”
“A pity.” Thomas drained his tea and reached to pour another. “I can see this is going to require at least one more cup.”
Kit held out his cup for a refill. “But the map is only the beginning.”
“I daresay.”
“Thing is”-Kit grew earnest-“Flinders-Petrie found something-something incredibly, unimaginably valuable-a treasure of some sort he kept hidden from the rest of the world.”
“Truly,” breathed the doctor, wholly caught up in the tale. “As if the secret of ley travel were not enough!”
Kit nodded solemnly. “Cosimo pledged himself to discovering that treasure, and it killed him in the end. As I’ve explained, we’re not the only ones looking for the map.” He went on to tell more about Lord Burleigh, Earl of Sutherland, and his men, describing how they always showed up at just the wrong time, what they were like, and what he knew about them. He ended his account, saying, “Unfortunately, bad as they are, they aren’t the only ones in competition for the map. After all, someone stole Cosimo’s portion of the map, and it wasn’t the Burley Men.”