The Passion of Cleopatra (Ramses the Damned 2)

Ramses was just about to reach for the cold fruit--slices of peach and pear lying on a bed of green lettuce--when a noise startled him. Someone at the front door. Someone turning a key in the lock.

He rose. He could see the door easily through the double doors of the first drawing room that opened onto the hall. Now, who would this be? One of the servants returned early? Had to be.

But it was not.

A figure in a dark cloak and hood entered the foyer.

It was Julie who recognized him at once.

"Elliott," she cried out, and she rushed to take him in her arms.

Elliott came quietly into the brighter lights of the front room and enfolded Julie tenderly, pressing her head to his chest.

"Forgive me, my darli

ng," said Elliott. He removed the heavy hooded cloak and threw it aside on a chair. "I saw the lights, of course. I should have knocked. But I was in a hurry to be off the street."

"Elliott, you have that key for a reason," said Julie, "to enter this house whenever you like." She led him towards the table. "I'm so glad to see you," she confessed. "I have missed you so very much."

"Come, join us," said Ramses. "It's a cold meal but a savory one, and plenty for three immortals twice over."

Elliott stood there before the table as if he were trying to collect his thoughts. He was drawn and tired, As we all become, thought Ramses, if we don't yield to the constant hunger. His eyes moved over the heap of suitcases on the carpet. And then to Ramses, as if he had just heard Ramses' words.

"Just arrived or leaving?" Elliott asked.

"Off to Europe to continue our wanderings," said Julie. "Our visit home has exhausted us. I can't wait to tell you of all that's transpired."

"Off to Europe," asked Elliott, "to continue your wanderings? My dear, what are you thinking of? Where have you both been?"

"Oh, I know, there's talk of war everywhere--" said Ramses.

"Talk?" Elliott interrupted. "My dear man, England is at war with Germany. The declaration was made an hour and a half ago! Have you no wireless here? Don't you realize what's been going on?"

"War with Germany?" Ramses sank down in the chair.

"Yes, war with Germany. And all of Europe is in this war. God knows what will happen next."

Indeed, they had been in another world, hadn't they, a world of their pressing concerns. Ramses had seen a newspaper or two in the last few days but utterly ignored them, and only now did all the talk of war come back to him with the dizzying ultimatums and the names of the different countries involved.

"Come, tell us all about it as we eat and drink," Ramses pressed.

Elliott escorted Julie to her chair and then sat down between them, facing the front of the house. He was dressed in a rather prim linen shirt and tie and gray wool coat, the basic uniform of males today. And his hair had recently been trimmed quite short and very neatly groomed. He looked as always like a young man with an older man's character, his blue eyes quick and curious and generous as he looked at his companions. But a great sadness overshadowed him. And Ramses knew it was this war.

"Perhaps this war will be over very soon," said Elliott. "But I fear it won't be. I fear the future." He went on to explain the conflicts that had led to the declaration of war.

He spoke quietly for some minutes.

Ramses couldn't follow it. All he could think was: How can this magnificent modern world enter into war? How can these modern people who know so much, who've come so far, suddenly be on the attack against one another? It was unfathomable to him.

He contemplated the power of modern weaponry, guns large and small. He contemplated a world of flying machines and telephones and giant metal ships--at war. It was too grim, too dreadful.

At last Elliott fell silent.

"Eat," said Ramses. "I can see that you're famished. I know the telltale signs." He offered a plate of sliced meats to the earl, and a pot of sauce with it, and the silver tray of freshly sliced bread.

The earl obeyed, listlessly, as if the food were merely fuel. He drank deeply of the chilled white wine, and sat back in his chair, eyes moving from Julie to Ramses and then back again. Slowly, the natural color returned to his cheeks. And his eyes began to move over the banquet before him. He reached for the plate of glistening oysters. And Ramses filled his glass again.

They all enjoyed the feast. Their hunger was too great for them not to enjoy it. Ramses devoured the cold lobster, dipping the morsels of pure white meat into different sauces, and consumed whole slices of bread. The wine, yes, the wine, again and again and that flush of intoxication which was gone in an instant. He set upon the pastries with the same fervor, only glancing up now and then to see his companions dining with the same obvious pleasure. And they were just a small family, then, the three of them, united with their secret, united in their hunger, united in this pleasure which would soon leave them wanting more.