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PART FOUR
Tell-El-Amarna, Egypt, 1897
"Love is most nearly itself when here and now cease to matter." -T.S. Eliot
Welcome, Dr. Jackson," Mrs. Fraiser, resplendent in rich tawny silk, came
forward to greet them as they came aboard the polished, elegant deck of the
dahabeeyah. "Welcome, Colonel O'Neill." She looked Daniel and Jack over in an
animated way, her eyes bright with curiosity. "Are those native robes?"
"I have found them to be helpful in protecting evening dress from dust and
sand," Daniel explained briefly, moving too slowly to prevent Mrs. Fraiser's
officious servant from releasing the clasp pinning his robes in place.
"I see what you mean." Mrs. Fraiser eyed Jack's immaculately black dinner jacket
with frank approval. "Much more effective than I have found a cloak to be. I
must remember the trick of it."
Miss Carter, waiting for them in the drawing room, was equally resplendent as
their hostess in a low-cut silk gown as blue as her eyes. She wore a necklace of
faience about her neck and seemed intent on provoking some manner of reaction
from Daniel. "I bought this from an antiquities trader in Cairo," she told him
when he failed to comment at once.
"If the paint was dry, I would be astonished," Daniel replied cheerfully. Behind
him, Jack snorted and prodded him warningly in the back. Daniel was uncertain
why. Miss Carter had expressed eagerness to further discuss with him her
interest archaeology. It was hardly Daniel's fault if she did not care for what
she might hear in answer.
The charming and vivacious Mrs. Fraiser saw to it that they were each served
with a glass of sherry, then neatly herded a very willing Jack over to sit
cosily with her on a narrow sofa.
Daniel was left to entertain Miss Carter. He said all that was proper about the
very comfortable appointments of the dahabeeyah, then politely enquired into the
highlights of their trip to date. Miss Carter replied to him at such length and
in such excruciating detail, he was almost relieved when General Carter finally
deigned to grace them with his presence. Daniel, who had been made to sit or
stand in many a hallway before the great and the good would spare him a mere
moment of their precious time, was not impressed by this tactic. A man
possessing rather less pride to offend and rather greater courage in his
convictions did not need to indulge in petty manipulations.
He wished they had not come. Jack had remained obdurate about their attendance
at the dinner for no good reason Daniel could see, unless it was for the
pleasure of Mrs. Fraiser's company.
The general took his place at the head of the table, with Mrs. Fraiser to his
left and Jack next to her, Miss Carter to his right, and Daniel by her side. The
quiet, attentive servants brought them a creamy soup and Daniel stifled a sigh,
realising they were indeed going to be forced to endure the ritual of a formal
dinner party in all its pointless entirety. This meant all of the guests present
would talk ceaselessly and nothing at all would be said.
In this, he underestimated the mutual hostility of Jack and General Carter.
The company scraped fairly well through the soup by strictly confining
themselves to exchanging the required observations about the weather, the
pleasures of polite Cairo society, that city's notable personalities, the
hazards of sailing upon the Nile, Egypt's many architectural and historic
wonders.
The fish course, some manner of dressed perch, was served spiced with endless
questions from Miss Carter and Mrs. Fraiser to Daniel about the sights they had
seen. An unwitting rescuer, General Carter dryly enquired if Daniel expected
them to put about and return the items they had obtained from every other site
they had visited along the way.
Miss Carter directed such a naked look of appeal at Daniel, he felt obliged for
her sake to deflect rather than answer this loaded question.
Unimpressed by this display of tact, Jack observed in a disinterested tone that
the general would be breaking with the Seventh's inviolable tradition if he gave
anything back. Then he complimented Mrs. Fraiser on the excellence of her perch
and placidly went on eating.
Daniel was hardly an expert on American history or culture, but he grasped from
the stifled silence that Jack had just delivered a magnificently offensive
insult. Feeling it his duty to support his friend in this worthy endeavour,
Daniel smiled at the general. "Would you be so good as to enlighten me regarding
the history of the Seventh Cavalry and its many engagements against the Indian
peoples, General Carter?" he enquired with impeccable politeness.
"I believe the massacre of Lt. Colonel Custer and almost three hundred troops of
the Seventh Cavalry by a hostile force of fifteen hundred Lakota Sioux is known
the world over," General Carter replied evenly.
"I believe the massacre by Lt. Colonel Custer of over one hundred Cheyenne, more
than ninety of those women, children and old men, on the Washita River is less
well known," Jack noted in that same mild, disinterested tone. "I suspect
because their chief Black Kettle and his wife rode out to meet Custer under a
white flag of truce and were shot to death while trying to surrender. Custer's
troops rode over their bodies to murder the remainder of the Black Kettle's
Cheyenne."
They all had to sit in constrained silence acting as if nothing were amiss while
the staring, nervous servants cleared away the dishes and quickly returned with
a steaming platter of roast beef and carefully prepared glazed vegetables.
"Washita," General Carter snapped the moment the relieved servants had melted
away, "Was a battle, not a massacre. The House of Representatives can tell the
difference even if you can't, O'Neill."
"Unlike the House of Representatives, I tend not to differentiate if the dead
are white or Indian, or if the 'battle' was witnessed by a newspaper reporter or
not, in determining what is and what is not a massacre."
"This is hardly a fitting topic for the dining table," Mrs. Fraiser censured the
combatants equally.
"Perhaps it should be," Daniel suggested thoughtfully. "If the very people who
can exert the greatest influence on their politicians and public opinion ignore
their problems because they are not fit to be discussed in society, then how is
change ever to be effected within that society?"
"The Sixth has had its own share of ignominious defeats," General Carter
countered smoothly, ignoring this by-play.
"None so glorious as the Seventh." Jack smiled across the table. "Has your
father discussed with you the events at Wounded Knee, Miss Carter?"
"I am well aware of the Ghost Dance insurgence," she replied calmly. "Those
events were widely reported by the Army as well as by the newspaper reporters."
Daniel was conscious of a certain annoyance with Jack. It was no doubt perfectly
clear to everyone aboard the Cleopatra by now that Jack and General Carter were
old enemies, each of them spoiling for a fight with the other. Daniel would
infinitely have preferred them to conduct this exchange of hostilities when they
had first met up at the excavation this afternoon. This would have spared all of
the innocent bystanders around them from being exposed to their onslaught.
"Extraordinary, is it not, how in the heat of battle, a soldier cannot tell buck
from squaw, child from parent..." Jack purred insolently.
"You were unable to make that distinction in your own home!" General Carter shot
back at him. "Had you guarded your own child with half as much care as you have
guarded yourself, you would be a father and a husband both."
Seeing Jack's face in that moment, Daniel became certain he had intended all
along to goad General Carter into precisely this tirade. What satisfaction it
might bring him, Daniel could not tell. Was it to do with the blame he
shouldered for his son's death? Did he see this castigation as – as part of his
punishment?
"Father!" Miss Carter remonstrated with him in a low, furious undertone.
"I do not care for the tone you have taken with my guests, General," Mrs.
Fraiser informed him icily.
"Then maybe I should share my news with the colonel and withdraw," General
Carter retorted, smiling unpleasantly. "You are not nearly so well-informed as
you might think, O'Neill," he said in a gloating manner. "Your unfortunate wife
did not mourn you for long." This was drawled out with the utmost contempt. "She
is Mrs. Bursley now, honourably and happily married to a respected and
prosperous lumber merchant, her position in society secured while yours is..."
"That's enough!" Daniel's voice was like a lash, startling the entire company
into silence. He forcefully pushed away his chair and rose to his feet, looking
the general up and down in the most scathing manner possible. "Your conduct,
Sir, is not that of a gentleman!" he informed the man curtly. "In every respect,
you must suffer in comparison to Colonel O'Neill." He bowed respectfully to each
of the ladies in turn. "Mrs. Fraiser, Miss Carter, to you I offer my apologies,"
he said sincerely, regretting they must share in the general's disgrace. "I will
not stay."
"I understand, Dr. Jackson," Mrs. Fraiser sighed, stiffly laying down her napkin
and preparing to escort her guests from the dahabeeyah.
"Please, I beg you will not trouble yourself on our account," Daniel hastened to
demur. Then he looked across the table at his friend, who was pale, still and
finally silenced by the insults he had most assiduously sought out. "Jack?"
Jack shook himself and pushed away from the table, following Daniel up the slick
wooden steps to the boat's deck where a servant came running to hand them their
robes.
Daniel dismissed the man impatiently, bundling the loose folds of fabric over
his arm. He could not recall ever having been so angry, marching ashore and out
into the starry night with a firm, anchoring grip on Jack's elbow and not a
thought in his head.
Jack tolerated this for several minutes, until they were safely beyond sight and
away from the sounds of the dahabeeyah, then he stopped Daniel in his tracks and
kissed him hard on his stiff mouth.
"I do not know what you meant by all of that," Daniel said fretfully, moving a
restless pace or two away. "You have never struck me as the man to wear a
hair-shirt, Jack!"
An ugly, angry, alien look came over Jack's face and was gone from Daniel's
sight as fast as it had appeared. "I didn't think so either," Jack said in a
strained tone, a more honest and meaningful admission than he meant it to be.
All at once, Daniel softened towards him, putting up his hand to warmly touch
Jack's cheek. His anger at the blind, arrogant combativeness of his friend
melted away and he remembered only the consequences of that ill-advised
exchange. "I am so sorry you had to hear such difficult news from one who bears
you only ill-will, Jack. I would not have had that happen for the world." It
seemed to him Jack turned his face into the touch against his cheek.
"I should have known. I did know, I guess," Jack admitted restively, his dark
eyes fixed glittering on a point very far away from Daniel. "It would have been
easier for Sara if I'd blown my brains out than for her to leave me in the way
she did," he said decisively. It was clear he had given a great deal of thought
to his wife's situation and of course that was just as it should be. They had
shared the most intimate of bonds for many years. "To be a divorced woman in a
small town – it's social death. I knew she would have to secure her future. I
always knew. Just as she knew I would secure mine when I left for the Klondike."
"With respect," Daniel interjected with great care and tactful expression, "I
cannot imagine knowing such a thing will happen makes it any easier to bear when
it comes to pass."
Once again, Jack shook himself, as if waking from a dream or some dark thought.
He turned and began to follow the straight, true royal road towards the
pinpricks of light drawing them to Amarna House and the village of
el-Hagg-Qandil beyond it.
Daniel thought this was the first time he had been sure Jack knew the way home.
He strode along comradely shoulder-to-shoulder with Jack and in time, his steps
lengthened as much as Jack's shortened, and they moved as one.
There was a great deal Daniel could say to Jack, but he settled for the one
thing he thought he might usefully do.
When they returned to the house, the servants came to greet them and all was
noise and light and confusion. Jack went off alone to his room, Mina and the
rest of the household looking after him in concern. It took a deal of time for
Daniel to reassure and to dismiss them. At last he was able to escape their
well-meaning fussing.
His mind fogged with trepidation, he undressed slowly, then went over to lock
his bedroom door. Clad in only his nightshirt, he ghosted through the dark
bathroom and tapped at the adjoining door to Jack's room. He barely waited for a
response; his stomach was jumping with nerves. Then when the door was closing
behind him, he did not know if he was welcome or not.
Jack was in his bed, looking watchfully at Daniel, his face very still and
expectant. He made no move and gave no sign of what he hoped Daniel would do
now.
Daniel tried to smile as he slid beneath the covers and lay close to Jack. Once
again, he willingly found himself touching Jack's cheek caressingly, then he
closed the last remaining distance between them and brought Jack into his arms.
"Dr. Jackson?"
Startled, Daniel turned. "Miss Carter?" He bowed slightly to her. "I did not
expect to see you again," he admitted frankly.
"I think that would have been easiest, yes," Miss Carter agreed with a frankness
equal to Daniel's, "But I find myself unwilling to depart while you think ill of
us."
Few of the men spoke more than a word or two of English but Daniel was loath to
talk over them as if they were not here or to have Miss Carter do so. Nor did he
wish to snub a woman whose faults were merely a tendency towards loquacity and
the possession of a very disagreeable father. With the Abydonians watching this
little scene with open enjoyment, he was forced to offer Miss Carter his arm and
escort her through the King's House back to the royal road.
"My father," she said calmly, "is not a bad man. He is, I think, a disappointed
man. My brother Mark refused to even contemplate..."
"You do not owe me an explanation," Daniel demurred hastily.
"No," Miss Carter agreed candidly. "But I would nonetheless like to give it. I
do not wish you to think ill of me."
Of course Daniel could not refuse such an appeal. "You spoke of your brother,
Miss Carter?" he prompted her politely.
"Mark." She twisted her parasol between her hands, setting it spinning over her
head, light and shade dancing on the ground about her. "He would not attend West
Point Military Academy as my father so ardently desired. Instead he married and
went out West, settling to live as far away from us as it was possible for him
to be, on the very coast of California."
"I'm sorry to hear it."
She smiled perfunctorily, tucking a hand into the crook of his arm as they
walked, an odd shiver running through her at the baking heat rising in visible
waves all around them. "I believe my father and Colonel O'Neill bring out the
very worst in one another because they have more in common than either would
care to admit," she confided.
Daniel found himself stiffening slightly. Miss Carter felt his withdrawal and
was sorry for it.
"I lost my mother," she said softly. "She was not killed bravely at my father's
side having followed him to the frontier but rather in a carriage accident on
the streets of Washington. My father was meant to have brought her home but he
became caught up in his business, cavalry business, and he was late. He became
so late my mother called for a hackney carriage."
The calm, precise way she laid out the facts suggested to Daniel she had thought
about this many, many times and there was no part in it she had not considered
exhaustively.
"My father eventually reached our home but my mother did not," Miss Carter said
painfully, lost for a moment in her past. "My brother did not forgive Father for
the neglect he believed had killed her." She smiled again, a terse twist of her
mouth. "I do not entirely forgive him myself. I do understand him, though, and I
see his enmity is not towards Colonel O'Neill so much as it is towards himself.
The faults he finds in your friend are the same faults within him that led to my
mother's death. She made him...happy." Miss Carter's smile was warm and real
this time. "He feels as responsible for her death as either of his children
could wish and he has not been happy since."
"I am very sorry for his loss and for yours, Miss Carter, but I find it hard to
forgive him for his unconscionable cruelty towards Colonel O'Neill in the matter
of his wife and child," Daniel said firmly. "There is not one of us who may
fully know the circumstances and it is not our place to judge."
"Yet you judge my father."
"His conduct was so unmannerly, so far from that of a gentleman, he gave me
little choice. I look at General Carter with the eyes of a stranger and I find
more in his character that makes him stand apart from Colonel O'Neill than
similarities which might in other circumstances have drawn them together as
friends," Daniel said crisply, finding himself to be unyielding in this regard.
"I hope the general is a better father to you than he is a friend to Mrs.
Fraiser. I have yet to see him put anyone's needs or feelings before his own."
"He can be very kind," Miss Carter insisted. "You have no idea."
"I do not," Daniel agreed. "For he has shown no kindness."
"We will not further our acquaintance," Miss Carter recognised regretfully. "I
could wish that it were otherwise."
"In other circumstances, I could wish it too, Miss Carter, but just as you owe
loyalty to your father, I owe loyalty to my friend."
"I am sorry for it." Miss Carter put out her hand and he bowed over it, bidding
her as polite and respectful a goodbye as he could accomplish, though he could
not entirely reciprocate her sentiment.
Daniel was not quick to find friends and he was only sorry the Carters and their
party had so disturbed the peace at Amarna. His interests increasingly were
becoming identified with Jack's and what hurt his friend, hurt him also. After
the general's attack, Jack had surprised him as much with gratitude for his
support as he had surprised Jack with his compassion. Daniel didn't want to
dwell on the cause for their reaching a deeper understanding; he wished only to
be glad for it.
From the deck of the dahabeeyah, Miss Carter suddenly raised her hand to him in
farewell. He returned the gesture willingly enough, then turned away from her in
relief, feeling his duty towards her to be discharged.
He found General Carter waiting a short distance behind him, astride a sweating
horse he recognised as belonging to the mayor of el-Hagg-Qandil. He inclined his
head in curt acknowledgement of the general's presence, then walked towards
horse and rider, his head held high. Though he made it clear he did not wish for
a meeting, the general swung around his horse to block Daniel's path, then slid
down from its back.
"A word with you, Jackson."
"I have nothing I care to say to you," Daniel refused flatly.
"I'm not asking you to talk, only to listen." The general's expression was a
peculiar mixture of sly humour and concern, neither emotion trustworthy. "You
have the wilful blindness of any man who spends himself so immoderately on
pursuit of his vocation."
"You are offensive, Sir," Daniel snapped, showing hackle.
"Yes," the general replied blandly. "I am. However, the manner of its delivery
does not affect the sincerity of my warning."
"The only sincerity I have observed in you lies in your dislike of Colonel
O'Neill."
"I have been given good cause for my dislike. It was not only in causing the
death of his son that O'Neill sinned against his wife," General Carter said
coldly. "Long before the boy died, it was well known O'Neill went with men for
his physical gratification."
Daniel glared at him, barely able to swallow his disgust at the general's
repetition of this reprehensible gossip.
"I have but to look at you, Jackson, and it is obvious what O'Neill is about
here."
"I beg to differ," Daniel retorted with equal coldness. "It is not at all
obvious to me."
Carter cast him an impatient look. "O'Neill looks to you for one thing only,
Jackson, and it is not your academic standing he wishes to prey upon."
"I beg of you, speak your accusation plain!" Daniel snapped, anger rising hotly
in his chest to choke him.
"The man is a pervert and the lowest of the low at that."
"You have no right to use such..."
"He is a sodomite," Carter crudely interrupted. "His only interest in you is to
fuck you."
"That is a lie!"
The general eyed him pityingly. "Your faith is touching but misplaced. The money
he has sunk into your excavation? The aid he lends you so assiduously? The
friendship he has you defending so jealously? All of these are calculated
gestures to secure your dependence and through it, your favours."
"How dare you?" Daniel said softly. "How dare you speak not only of Colonel
O'Neill in these terms, but of me? You know full well my reputation among my
peers. Having stood my ground and adhered to my principles so completely I am
all but cast off from my profession, what possible cause can you find to so
malign my character as to suggest I would submit myself to such an infamy?"
"It's a pretty speech," the general responded insultingly. "I don't suggest
O'Neill would force you to his bed. He's not so bad as that. I have no doubt he
would infinitely prefer to fuck a willing boy in his bed every night than to
obtain his gratification through a single rape."
"Colonel O'Neill has made no attempt to engage with me in the act of sodomy
through either force or seduction," Daniel denied with the absolute conviction
of truth, causing the general's brows to snap together in angry astonishment.
"Allow me to say I find your unrelenting attempts to blacken his character and
good name to me to be contemptible in the extreme. It is not he who is the cur,
but you. His presence and his efforts here assure him of my friendship, nothing
more. He asks nothing more."
He raked the general with scornful eyes.
"Miss Carter would have me believe you are a good if difficult man and one who
is misunderstood. I find she is wholly mistaken in the matter. You are a
bitterly angry and resentful old man who would hurt any other person before you
would hurt yourself. You are nothing like Colonel O'Neill; you are in fact his
opposite. What blame he feels is due to him for the errors of his life, he
willingly shoulders. He does not vent out his anger and his disappointments on
others, most certainly not on those who have never done him harm. I do not fault
him for his enmity towards you; I know only enough of your character to share
his dislike."
It was clear from his curdling face no one had ever spoken to General Jacob
Carter in such a scathing manner but Daniel could not be sorry for it. He felt
freed of all requirement to conduct himself with the propriety of a gentleman
and so great was his dislike, he was almost relieved to be able to speak it as
plainly as the general.
"Your presence is not welcome at my excavation," Daniel asserted. "Kindly have
Mrs. Fraiser instruct her captain to cast off as soon as the tide is in your
favour and sail on to your next port of call."
"What gives you the right to speak to me with such insolence?" Carter demanded,
quite dumbfounded at this direct dismissal.
"You do, Sir," Daniel retorted cuttingly.
He would say no more, walking past the general and away from him, so furious and
perturbed he took the path away from the dig, striking out for the northern
limits of the city. He thought only of calming himself in the walking. There was
time before he must go back and face everyone cheerfully. The Abydonians would
soon at be at prayers, the noon meal would be served to the men...he had a
little time.
He was readily surrendering his solitude, a willing compromise for the gain of
Jack's companionship. When he tried to look with a rational eye at the short
time he had known the man, he saw a great deal that he had been asked but
equally as much that he had been given.
It was hard for him to remember he could ever have entertained doubts as to
Jack's character, that he had ever seen in him the predator whose sole interest
was in bedding him. Jack had always had the power to take him but had
surrendered it up. He had asked for Daniel's friendship, finessed it at first
from him against his will and then earned it with his many kindnesses.
Daniel had been glad to give his friendship, glad it had been asked of him. He
was glad Jack had some regard for him, a measure of respect. He had been glad
even when Jack had taken him to bed, for in lying with his friend, he had found
a thing he could give Jack in his turn.
If Jack was the man Jacob Carter believed him to be, he would have buggered
Daniel any or perhaps every time they had lain together. Jack had not made the
attempt. He had not asked it of Daniel, he had not even given the hint. He had
only tried to do for Daniel what would give him pleasure, what they could share.
They came together in friendship and that was an end to it. It meant more to
Daniel than he could say and he felt this was true of Jack also.
They had each lived quite independently, quite fully, before they had met. Had
they never met at all, they would not have lived out their separate lives aware
of some great lack. It was only that in their meeting they had each of them
found something they wanted and needed in the other, not only to take but to
give, and in that sharing a great many small things had begun quietly to bind
their two lives together.
Daniel cared more for Jack than he had imagined it was possible for him to care
for anyone. Jack went deeper and wanted more from him than comfort and custom
allowed, but it was nothing Daniel would not give. He would not be shamed
because he had gone to Jack's bed or because Jack had come to his. He would not
allow a man like Jacob Carter to make him think ill of Jack for being honest in
his desires.
If Daniel was at times uncomfortable and uncertain in their friendship, the
cause did not lie in what was asked of him, but in what he was able to give that
was of real value to Jack.
He was not used to being made the recipient of so much friendly generosity and
thoughtfulness; it was outside of his experience. At times, it made him anxious,
for what could Jack possibly gain from their friendship that was equal to what
he gave Daniel?
To be able to please Jack when they were together in bed, to be able to give him
comfort and have him be accepting of it, those things meant a great deal to
Daniel.
There was a difference between an act of kindness and an act of charity, a
difference Daniel well understood. He thought it would kill him if Jack were to
extend charity to him so he did those things he could for Jack, those things he
hoped and believed made them equal.
If he had learned nothing else from this encounter with Jacob Carter, it was
that it was not the general and Jack who were alike, but rather himself and
Jack. They were more alike than he had ever known.
The generous patron who had come to the rescue of the excavation, the man and
comrade-in-arms who had secured the respect and good opinion of General Hammond,
had no more of a place in society than Daniel.
The same rigidity, the same hypocrisy damned them both equally for the
differences that made them stand apart from other men and refuse in their
arrogance to make apology or amends to those who would be the arbiters of their
conduct.
With all the constraints others had set about him, the condemnation, gossip and
ridicule that dogged his steps, Daniel had set himself free in his ignominy. His
independence and his honour were worth the price society exacted from him. The
circumstances were very different, as different as the worlds they inhabited,
but Jack had broken the rules binding him as surely as Daniel had.
Perhaps it was what they each had in common that made each of them look to the
other and find in him a friend.
Jack froze with the fragile cup against his lips as Kasuf hunkered down at his
side, both of his hands around a smooth earthenware bowl.
Kasuf nodded to Jack.
Jack nodded back.
They each took their time in sipping the fragrant tea.
Nothing was said for a long while.
"The young master has been unwell," Kasuf observed mildly, his attention wholly
fixed on the Great Aten temple he and Jack and the Abydonians were slowly
digging out of the ground.
"He has been unwell," Jack said carefully, uncertain where this was going or
what he would be forced to do about it.
"It has been seen."
Seen? Not a casual choice of words from Kasuf, who was careful and watchful of
everyone and everything.
"Dr. Jackson is lucky in his men, that they take such good care of him." Jack,
used to conducting negotiations blind, took another sip of his tea and waited.
"Care is taken in his house also," Kasuf replied gently.
Jack rather liked Kasuf's resolute refusal to accept that the mere offering of
money granted the excavation's patron any rights. He could have put Kasuf down
without difficulty but he chose not to because he had a real respect for him and
because Daniel would be disappointed in him if he saw the colour of the man's
skin before he saw the man.
"This day, Dr. Jackson is well again," Kasuf went calmly on, refreshing himself
with a long drink from his bowl.
"I hope that's been seen equally as clearly," Jack said dryly.
"The men have joy," Kasuf stated with a certain dignity. "They look to see the
young master keep well."
Ah. There it was. Not a rush to judgement, only the straight-forward simplicity
of a threat. Jack could appreciate that. He appreciated that very much. He liked
to deal with an adversary as simple as himself.
"The men won't be disappointed," he replied readily, a little of his amusement
beginning to show.
"That is good." Kasuf took several more sips from his tea, then looked out
meditatively towards the distant cliffs that sweltered in the blinding light
while Jack finished his tea and reflected on Daniel's supernatural ability to
get the most unlikely individuals to care for him. He rather regretfully
admitted that the tally of Daniel's willing slaves and protectors included
himself at the head of the line.
"A man must take care in this place," Kasuf observed thoughtfully after another
long, deliberate silence. "He has but to stray a little from the path and if the
bandits do not take him, the sun and the great desert will."
Forgetting his place, Jack turned to stare at Kasuf. He had the professional's
admiration for a well-turned threat and this one was as smooth and slippery as a
snake's belly. It was a rare feeling for a man to know where he stood with
another, friend or foe. A good one.
"Daniel is fortunate in his men," Jack said again, meaning it this time.
Kasuf hesitated for a brief, measuring moment, then he inclined his head in
acknowledgement and rose to leave.
"As fortunate as you are in your employer," Jack added dulcetly, feeling he owed
Kasuf something. "Don't go out searching for another," he warned him directly.
"We'll need you again next season." Then he smiled and got to his feet.
"We dig again at Amarna?" Kasuf asked him, honestly startled.
"If that's what Daniel wants, then yes, we go on digging here. If he prefers
some other site? Then we go elsewhere to dig." Jack shrugged lightly. "The
location doesn't matter to me." Only that Daniel was happy.
"Those others," Kasuf spat with fierce bitterness. "The big men in Cairo,
believing they know all. They know nothing. They will give him no firman."
Jack looked his foreman right in the eyes and made him an absolute promise.
"They will give it to me."
Kasuf looked searchingly at him and this time, his smile and his respectful bow
were real. "You at least show the sense Allah gave you," he said grudgingly.
Jack could sympathise. He hated to lose too. He thought he had won this skirmish
but in a way, he thought he had lost too. It was strange to him how the more he
gave up, the more he seemed to get his way with all of these people, Daniel most
of all. There was no accounting for it.
"Honestly, Jack, how can you not be excited?" Daniel asked in genuine
bafflement, looking out eagerly over the long line of men revealing the walls of
the Great Aten temple inch by inch.
"I've been surrounded by crumbling, broken down walls and rubble since I got
here," Jack explained in the mistaken belief he was being reasonable. "They all
look the same."
From a spot safely behind his aggravated young master, Kasuf's eyebrows
disappeared into his turban. He murmured something beneath his breath Jack
thought might be a prayer to merciful Allah.
"Your reasoning is so fundamentally flawed, so offensive, I hardly know where to
begin in rebutting this appallingly blinkered assertion!" Daniel argued
vigorously.
"I have proof of my assertion!" Jack countered. "You only think there's a
difference because you're standing right here where a neatly marked out grid
tells you what you're looking at."
"That is not true!"
"Let's be clear about this," Jack snorted. "If I were to show you photographs
chosen at random from those I've taken of various excavated walls about the
site, it's your contention that you'd be able to identify the location of each
wall from the content of the photograph alone?"
"I am sure I could," Daniel insisted defiantly.
"I'll take that bet," Jack said promptly.
Kasuf shot Jack a smug look when Daniel took him to task for sullying the ears
of the innocent Abydonians with his talk of gambling, forbidden to Muslims and
now apparently to objectionable cavalry officers.
"If you will produce your photographs, I stand very ready to prove you wrong,"
Daniel offered by way of a palliative for this moral severity. "I would be
pleased to do so."
"I'm sure you would be absolutely delighted to prove me wrong," Jack said
tartly, "but I regret this will not be that happy occasion."
"Next year we dig at Saqqara or Dahshur," Kasuf muttered sagely. "Maidum. We dig
for pyramids."
"Pyramids?" Daniel queried, catching only the last magical word in this litany.
"No walls," Kasuf explained, tenting his two hands illustratively into a pyramid
shape for Jack's benefit. "Pyramids," he advised again, to Daniel's complete
bewilderment. "No walls, no fights, no shouting. I bring back the men next
season. We dig. You see."
"N-next season?" Daniel stammered, stiffening up so much Jack was afraid he
might break in two. His eyes fixed painfully on Jack, nakedly vulnerable in
their intensity. Daniel was a proud man, but he wanted this – he wanted Jack for
his friend, wanted Jack with him more than he would ever say.
If Jack was uncertain how very much his friendship mattered to Daniel, all the
answer he was looking for was here. He smiled, reaching out to administer a
softly chiding shake, glad he wasn't the only one terribly embarrassed. "Was it
ever in any doubt?"
"I wish to speak with you," Daniel said brusquely, quite abrupt in his manner.
"Immediately."
"Are you unwell?" Kasuf asked him, treacherously brightening up at the prospect.
"Very well, thank you," Daniel absently disappointed his foreman, abandoning his
thrilling temple walls so quickly he stumbled.
Jack was quick to lend a solicitous hand, though his attempts to be otherwise
discreet were for nought when Daniel smiled in that particular shy, expressive
way he had, after which Jack was hard put to it not to allow their purposeful,
dignified walk through the camp to degenerate into a foot race to the expedition
tent.
He was very sorry for the time wasted when Daniel instantly took advantage of
the small privacy afforded them under canvas to walk right into his arms and
kiss him with all of the intensity Jack had seen in his eyes. Daniel felt more
than he could say, more even than a single kiss could communicate. Alight with
all of that feeling, he kissed Jack a dozen times or more; passionate, electric
kisses, arms winding tighter and tighter about his neck.
"You mean it?" Daniel asked gladly.
"Sure I mean it. We're friends." Grinning, Jack took Daniel's face between his
hands. "Partners."
"I feel it too," Daniel promised eagerly. "I find it hard to remember what it
was like before you came to us, Jack. I only know you have made a place here
with us and that it is the right place for you."
"It wasn't a place I was looking for," Jack confessed ruefully. "I came to
Amarna pretty much in pursuit of the opposite. I didn't expect to find myself
put to hard labour or have my many skills so ruthlessly exploited."
"You volunteered!"
"I've been worked until my hands bled."
"One blister, which you inflicted upon yourself because you would not listen to
any advice I had to offer about the correct way to hold a..."
Jack kissed him quite hard, a gruelling punishment for insubordination Daniel
rather enjoyed and wished to continue far longer than the offence warranted.
"If archaeology is such a trial to you, then why do wish to continue excavating
with me?" Daniel asked reasonably as Jack led him over to sit a trifle more
discreetly on the bed where they might see anyone approaching before they were
seen.
The honest answer to this was Jack would not give up his friend and his friend
would not give up excavation. Archaeology was the necessary evil, the compromise
he must make if he wanted Daniel. If he could have separated his friend from his
vocation, he would not have hesitated. There was consolation in knowing that
however little use he had for archaeology, Daniel's vocation had great use for
him. Jack was able to share fully in Daniel's life if not this particular
passion, and with that he was content.
He too felt more than a single kiss could say so he didn't try. He took Daniel's
hand roughly into his, lifting it to bring it to rest between both of his palms.
"I don't know what to say to you," he murmured, wishing emotion had not left him
hoarse. "What would be best. So I'll say only to you what I feel. I find I can't
be parted from you. And I won't be."
"That is how it should be, I think," Daniel said diffidently. "For friends. It
was not a thing I thought to look for," he admitted seriously, staring down at
his hand and Jack's entwined. "Not a – a true friend. I do not have that luck.
You have said to me more than once that you have made your own way through life
as a man and I feel it is true of me also." He hesitated fractionally. "I have
felt alone," he said in a low, reluctant tone. "But you came into my life, and
now my life is changed and I am glad."
"Then it's settled."
"If you are sure, Jack."
With his thumb, Jack traced the path of a thin vein showing blue beneath the
skin on the back of Daniel's hand. Certainty was not something he had ever
expected to feel again, but it had found him nonetheless. Now was the time for
him to show Daniel what he was made of, what he had learned in his life. Slowly,
he brought Daniel's hand to his mouth, feeling the tremor as he brushed his lips
softly over it.
He was sure.
"You're quiet tonight," Jack commented as they took their brandy into the
drawing room.
"I find I have a great deal on my mind," Daniel replied with a smile. "I am not
melancholy, Jack, only thoughtful."
"Was it something Miss Carter said?"
"Miss Carter, the general, the stagnation of that strange, confining world they
inhabit. I do not care for it," Daniel said decidedly as he sank with a sigh of
comfort onto the smaller sofa with Jack close by his side. "How can you find
meaning in a life which all but forbids honesty and integrity in the
single-minded pursuit of popularity and fashion? What is real to those people? I
would rather offend in my passion than collude with insincere mannerly conduct."
Jack looked at him politely.
"You follow my meaning perfectly well." Daniel scowled. "This trick you have of
playing the fool may have served you among soldiers but it will not do in my
company."
"Discretion is the better part of valour," Jack grinned.
"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit."
Contentedly, Jack put his arm around Daniel, then stretched out his legs to rest
his feet upon the low table set before the sofa. "I'm demonstrating my
fellowship with sincerely unmannerly conduct," he blithely explained this lapse.
"Now tell me what Jacob Carter had to say to you that sent you storming off in
such a black mood."
"The men are quicker with their tongues than with their shovels," Daniel sighed.
"It was nothing."
"Daniel," Jack drawled out in playful warning.
"It was nothing I would not have expected from him," Daniel amended reluctantly.
"He did his utmost to poison my mind against your character." He would not
lounge as Jack was doing, but they were alone in the garden-scented cool of
evening and he was bold enough to place his hand upon Jack's thigh. "He told me
you were a vile seducer of young boys," he said peaceably.
"I see." Jack took another sip of brandy. "Are you going to make me figure out
the rest for myself?"
"I do not think the general knows how it is between friends," Daniel confided.
"He cannot see how two men might lie together unless one would take upon himself
the role of woman."
"For some men, it can only be that way," Jack said gently. "They can only take."
"It is not that way for us."
"I do desire you in that way, Daniel. Out of respect for you, I won't lie about
wanting you."
"It is what I expected," Daniel said candidly, "When you first spoke of taking
me to your bed. In all of my reading, the older man would take his pleasure with
the younger, whose duty was to submit to his lover's desire for him." He was
sorry for this. "I could not know how it would be for – for us."
Jack's hand lingeringly caressed Daniel's arm through the thin fabric of his
shirt, making him shiver. He had barely begun to know what it was to have Jack's
hands on him but he wanted that touch fiercely.
"General Carter only knows what it is for the older man to push the younger down
and take pleasure from him," Daniel said shakily, struggling to speak of it. "He
does not know you and he does not know me if he thinks I would submit to such a
taking."
"Did you hear what I said to you?" Jack asked him, without the usual teasing
note in his voice. "I do desire..."
"I heard," Daniel said quickly. "It is not all there is between us."
"No," Jack promised him faithfully. "It's not."
"You – you are generous, Jack," Daniel whispered, flushing hotly. "In every
respect."
"You're the only one to think so."
"I do not care for the opinions of others."
"You don't?"
"I try." Daniel's eyes fell. "I try not to care."
"You're too honest, Daniel," Jack said softly, smiling a little. "It makes me
honest with you even when I don't mean to be."
"I cannot be the only honest person you have known, Jack," Daniel suggested
timidly. "Perhaps the difference lies not in me but in you."
"What do you think?"
"I think the difference is there in us both, each of us needing the other to be
that different man. This is what I have been thinking about tonight, that we do
better together." He leaned forward and put his untouched brandy on the table.
"I care for you, Jack, and it has changed me."
Jack put down his brandy too. He knew what Daniel wanted and was kind enough not
to make him ask for it. He got willingly to his feet and walked with him through
the garden to their rooms. He offered the servants no pretence tonight, but led
Daniel into his bedroom and locked the door behind them.
"I cannot tell you how strange this feels," Daniel said unsteadily as he began
at once to unbutton his shirt. "If I thought about companionship at all, I
thought that in time I might marry. I cannot imagine it at all now. There is
only this." He looked around at Jack to find him watching through hooded,
gleaming eyes. "I want only my friend," he said bravely.
"I've had a wife." There was no bitterness in Jack as he said this, only
quietude. "I wasn't honest with her in the way I should've been. I wasn't honest
with myself. I didn't come to Amarna looking to find you, Daniel, but find you I
did. I didn't mean it, I didn't choose it, but I have grown accustomed. Yours
isn't the only luck to change for the better. Now, I only want my friend."
They each of them undressed, neatly folding away their clothes before they
walked over to the bed as readily as if they had lain together many times
before. Daniel would have slipped modestly beneath the covers but Jack's quick
hand stopped him.
"I want to see you," Jack asked, kneeling at his side.
"I am lost when you look at me this way," Daniel said fretfully.
Jack took his wrists in a firm clasp and held them where he might be sure to see
all of Daniel's body. He looked for a long time, until Daniel's chest felt hot
and heavy, he looked with a hunger stronger than Daniel's mortification at lying
before him so exposed. He looked until Daniel's quick breathing gentled, until
Daniel could look directly back at him.
Then Jack knelt astride Daniel, a pleasing weight and solidness across his
thighs. His eyes and his mood were tender but his hands were strong and sure,
gliding over Daniel's skin in such a way his belly trembled. It was the heat and
the weight of it, the firm, precise confidence in his mastery of touch, the feel
of him, pushing down through skin to melt muscle and shake bone.
His limbs were as water when Jack urged him over onto his side. Daniel lay where
he was put, scarlet-faced and panting, ashamed because he could not move. He
could only be touched. He was begging for the powerful glide of Jack's skin over
his skin, over and over his chest and down, over and over his belly and down. He
let out a mewling cry when Jack's skin slid hotly down to stroke and fist his
sex.
Daniel did not understand how he could be so heated and Jack so cool. He turned
blindly into a waiting kiss, into tenderness, then Jack's terrible hands found
his shoulders, his spine. The small of his back. Hands spanned the narrowness of
his hips, traced out the breadth of his ribs and slid down his flank. When Jack
began to rub and squeeze at his buttocks, Daniel could not bear the way his
belly jumped at each shock of pleasure. He touched himself and then snatched his
hands away.
Jack nuzzled warmly into his arched throat. "I like to see you touch yourself. I
like to know what pleases you. I like to know my hands can follow yours."
"I like your hands," Daniel breathed. "I like them on me."
"You would like them in you better."
"I-in me?" It was so difficult to think, to know anything but Jack's hands and
his own slow, uncertain ones. He cringed from touching himself with Jack
watching but need drummed at him and his fingers began to slip smoothly.
"Like this." Jack's fingers slid between his buttocks, as smooth and sweet as
Daniel's own touch on himself. It was a strange, shivering pleasure. "It's not
taking. Not for us. It's this."
Jack's stroking centred and Daniel felt again the precise, mastering touch that
pushed down through his skin to melt him. This feeling was stronger, this
feeling was almost one of pain. A delicious quiver ran clear through him and
with it all tightness was gone. He reached around to share a kiss, his tongue
and his toes curling at the soft slide of skin inside him. Jack was smiling
against his mouth, shaken by laughter as he arched and curled, pushing himself
against that long, strong finger, wanton as any cat for petting. It was all
sliding heat inside him, pressing, rubbing heat he could not stop rocking into.
He shocked himself.
"It's alright," Jack crooned, kissing him gently and deeply and with an almost
fierce gladness as all the heat spilled out over Daniel's shaking hands.
Daniel tried to speak and could not. His hands felt too heavy to lift as he
clumsily wiped them clean on the sheet. He was shivering when Jack spooned up
snugly behind him, arms hugging tightly across his chest, drawing him so close
he felt Jack's heartbeat steady against his back. He was grateful to be held.
More grateful still Jack had not tried to make him face him just yet. His hands
naturally found Jack's and he felt a little better.
"I hardly know what is happening to me," he said quietly.
"You begin to know your own body," Jack affectionately assured him. "Your own
desires. It's a good thing and in time, if you can learn to trust your pleasure,
it'll be better."
"A week ago I could not have imagined you touching me." Daniel pushed at Jack's
embrace, then rolled over to face him, running a palm over the sleek muscles of
his arm. "Now I do not want you to stop."
Jack did not want to stop either. Cradling arms were already finding new places
on Daniel. Jack's face slid nearer to his, coming close enough to kiss but he
only smiled at him. "Have you never loved anyone before?" Jack asked.
Love?
Jack did kiss him then, in all of that gladness they had each found in the
other. "You must know that I love you," he breathed against Daniel's mouth.
Daniel touched the face before him, his fingers tracing out the lines of humour
and hard experience, of laughter and bitterness, kindness and toughness he was
to understand would yield only to him, by Jack's choice. He could only wonder
that he went as deep into Jack as his friend went into him. There was no part of
them he had found that could not touch and he learned – he felt - new things
every day.
Every day they worked at this friendship of theirs and found they were a better
fit for each other than they had been the day before. A man might lie with his
friend, but could he experience such trembling excitement, such humbling longing
and desire, and deny the truth of what he felt?
It was no one thing, it was many things at once, confusing and thrilling and
satisfying to him.
"No," he said in a shaken voice. "I have never loved anyone before. There is
only you for me. I – I would not change that if I could."
"I have loved," Jack said ironically, his lips tight but his hands easy on
Daniel's back. "But I've looked a long time to find a friend, a man who would
stand and fight by me. A man is better for having a partner and now I have mine.
I know myself, I know the mistakes and failings of my life. I won't change."
"I feel change in myself," Daniel ventured shyly, his fingers coaxing now. "All
the time I know you, there is change in me."
"That's love," Jack said simply, closing in for Daniel's kiss. "That's how it's
meant to be."
FINIS
| Part 1 | Part 2 |
Part 3 | Part 4 |
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