The Serpent on the Crown (Amelia Peabody Series #17)

by Elizabeth Peters

Overview

"A unique treasure obtained by unscrupulous means, the small gold statuette of an unidentified Egyptian king is a priceless relic from a bygone era. But more than history surrounds the remarkable artifact - for it is said that early death will come to anyone who possesses it." "Enjoying a world finally at peace, the Emersons have returned to the Valley of the Kings in 1922. With the lengthy ban on their archaeological activities lifted, Amelia Peabody and her family look forward to delving once more into the age-old mysteries buried in Egypt's ever-shifting sands. But a widow's strange story - and even stranger request - is about to plunge them into a storm of secrets, treachery, superstition...and murder." "The woman, a well-known author, has come bearing an ill-gotten treasure - a golden likeness of a forgotten king - which she claims is cursed. Already, she insists, it has taken the life of her husband, and unless it is returned to the tomb from which it was stolen, more people will die." Intrigued by the mystery, Amelia and her clan resolve to uncover the secrets of the statue's origins, setting off on a trail that twists and turns in directions they never anticipated - and, perhaps, toward an old nemesis with unscrupulous new designs. But each step toward the truth seems to reveal another peril, suggesting to the intrepid Amelia that the curse is more than mere superstition. And its next victim might well be her irascible husband, Radcliffe, their beloved son, Ramses, his lovely wife, Nefret...or Amelia Peabody herself.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9780060591793
Publisher:	HarperCollins Publishers
Publication date:	03/28/2006
Series:	Amelia Peabody Series , #17
Edition description:	Reprint
Pages:	512
Sales rank:	384,120
Product dimensions:	4.18(w) x 7.50(h) x 1.15(d)

About the Author

Barbara Rosenblat is a multi-award-winning voice actor for audiobooks. On Broadway, she created the role of 'Mrs. Medlock' in 'The Secret Garden'.

Hometown:

A farm in rural Maryland

Date of Birth:

September 29, 1927

Place of Birth:

Canton, Illinois

Education:

M.A., Ph.D. in Egyptology, Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago, 1952

Website:

http://mpmbooks.com/

Read an Excerpt

The Serpent on the Crown

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By Elizabeth Peters

HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Copyright © 2006 Elizabeth Peters
All right reserved.
ISBN: 006059179X

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Chapter One

He woke from a feverish sleep to see something bending over him. It was a shape of black ice, a tall featureless outline that exuded freezing cold. He tried to move, to cry out. Every muscle was frozen. Cold air touched his face, sucking out breath, warmth, life.

We had gathered for tea on the veranda. It is a commodious apartment, stretching clear across the front of the house, and the screens covering the wide window apertures and outer door do not interfere with the splendid view. Looking out at the brilliant sunlight and golden sand, with the water of the Nile tinted by the sunset, it was hard to believe that elsewhere in the world snow covered the ground and icy winds blew. My state of mind was as benevolent as the gentle breeze. The delightful but exhausting Christmas festivities were over and a new year had begun -- 1922, which, I did not doubt, would bring additional success to our excavations and additional laurels to the brow of my distinguished spouse, the greatest Egyptologist of this or any age.

Affectionately I contemplated his impressive form -- the sapphire-blue eyes and ebon hair, the admirable musculature of chest and arms, half bared by his casual costume. Our son, Ramses, who had acquired that nickname because hehad the coloring of an Egyptian and, in his youth, the dogmatism of a pharaoh, sat comfortably sprawled on the settee, next to his beautiful wife, our adopted daughter, Nefret. Faint cries of protest and distress drifted to our ears from the house the dear little children and their parents occupied; but even Nefret, the most devoted of mothers, paid them no heed. We were well accustomed to the complaints; such sounds always accompanied the efforts of Fatima and her assistants (it took several of them) to wash and change the children. It would be some time before the little dears joined us, and when a carriage drew up in front of the house I could not repress a mild murmur of protest at the disturbance of our peace.

Emerson protested more emphatically. "Damnation! Who the devil is that?"

"Now, Emerson, don't swear," I said, watching a woman descend from the carriage.

Asking Emerson not to use bad language is tantamount to King Canute's ordering the tide not to surge in. His Egyptian sobriquet of "Father of Curses" is well deserved.

"Do you know her?" Emerson demanded.

"No."

"Then tell her to go away."

"She appears to be in some distress," Nefret said. Her physician's gaze had noted the uncertain movements and hesitant steps. "Ramses, perhaps you had better see if she requires assistance."

"Assist her back into her carriage," Emerson said loudly.

Ramses looked from his wife to his father to me, his heavy black eyebrows tilting in inquiry. "Use your own judgment," I said, knowing what the result would be. Ramses was too well brought up (by me) to be rude to a woman, and this one appeared determined to proceed. As soon as he reached her she caught hold of his arm with both hands, swayed, and leaned against him. In a breathy, accented voice she said, "You are Dr. Emerson, I believe? I must see you and your parents at once."

Somewhat taken aback by the title, which he had earned but never used, Ramses looked down at the face she had raised in entreaty. I could not make out her features, since she was heavily veiled. The veils were unrelieved black, as was her frock. It fit (in my opinion) rather too tightly to a voluptuously rounded figure. Short of prying her hands off his arm, Ramses had no choice but to lead her to the veranda.

As soon as she was inside she adjusted the black chiffon veils, exposing a countenance whose semblance of youth owed more to art than to nature. Her eyes were framed with kohl and her full lips were skillfully tinted. Catching my eye, she lifted her chin in a practiced gesture that smoothed out the slight sagging of her throat. "I apologize for the intrusion. The matter is of some urgency. My name is Magda Petherick. I am the widow of Pringle Petherick. My life is threatened and only you can save me."

It was certainly the sort of introduction that captured one's attention. I invited Mrs. Petherick to take a chair and offered her a cup of tea. "Take your time," I said, for she was breathing quickly and her face was flushed. She carried a heavy reticule, which she placed at her feet before she accepted the cup from Ramses.

Leaning against the wall, his arms folded, Emerson studied her interestedly. Like myself, he had recognized the name.

"Your husband was Pringle Petherick, the well-known collector?" he inquired. "I believe he passed away recently."

"November of last year," she said. "A date that is engraved on my heart." She pressed her hand over that region of her person and launched, without further preamble, into the description I have already recorded. "He woke that morning from a feverish sleep ...

"This is what killed him," she finished. Reaching into the bag, she withdrew a rectangular box painted with crude Egyptian sym-bols. "He had purchased it only a few weeks earlier, unaware that the curse of the long-dead owner yet clung to it."

A long pause ensued, while we all tried to think of an appropriate response. It had occurred to me, as I feel sure it has occurred to the Reader, that there was a certain literary air about her narrative, but even Emerson was not rude enough to inform a recently bereaved widow that she was either lying or demented ...

Continues...

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Excerpted from The Serpent on the Crown by Elizabeth Peters Copyright © 2006 by Elizabeth Peters. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Table of Contents

Interviews

A Letter from the Author

Dear Ransom Notes Readers:

I've lost track of the number of times I've traveled to Egypt. The first was back in the l960s; the most recent, last winter. (Never go to Egypt in the summer unless you have to.) I don't believe I will ever tire of it. I share Amelia's love of the view across the Nile toward the West Bank, but for various reasons (including laziness) I don't get up at dawn. Instead, I watch Egypt's glorious sunsets staining the river red as I listen to the blended calls of the muezzins, and, in company with a like-minded friend, sip gin-and-tonic on the balcony of my room at the Winter Palace Hotel.

Though much has changed in Egypt, much remains the same. It's not difficult to put myself back in Amelia's day, and quite often a specific view will inspire a new plot idea. In this book, The Serpent on the Crown, the golden statuette that starts the ball rolling was inspired by two separate ideas -- one, a similar statue of the god Amon, from a much later period; and second, a useful hint from a friend about something Carter found when he opened Tutankhamon's tomb. I can't go into more detail without giving away the entire plot, but I'll bet Egyptology buffs will spot that particular clue.

The discovery of Tutankhamon's tomb in the fall of l922 caused a sensation. It was unique and thrilling. It's fascinating, even to people who know almost nothing more about ancient Egypt. I couldn't resist allowing the Emersons to be present. Emerson would have liked to find the tomb, but since I knew he hadn't, I wasn't able to oblige him.

Since entertainment is my main purpose, the history is all interwoven with lots of hairbreadth escapes, dangerous criminals, frustrated lovers, and, of course, curses. I don't believe in curses any more than Amelia does, but as a writer I love setting up spooky situations and finding logical explanations for them.

The real curse (to use an oxymoron) came after Carter opened King Tutankhamon's tomb. It started with the "mysterious" death of Lord Carnarvon and was built up by energetic journalists and sensation seekers. I'm saving that story for the next book, which I'm working on now. This curse is just a foreshadowing -- a reminder to my readers of the wild superstitions that surround archaeology.

I introduced a new character in Serpent: a lady novelist. Those who are unfamiliar with the popular literature of the period will find her somewhat extravagant, but I assure readers that her prose is typical of her times. Does she remind me of anyone? Maybe just a little. I am not above making fun of myself. Naturally I consider myself a much more talented writer, and I'm sure Amelia would agree.

Sincerely,
Elizabeth Peters

Editorial Reviews

The Barnes & Noble Review
In this installment of fictional Egyptologist Amelia Peabody's fascinating exploits, the year is 1922. The Great War is over, and Amelia and her beloved husband, Emerson, are eager to resume their excavations. However, their work is soon interrupted when a flamboyant widow -- famed for the lurid, gothic tales she writes -- begs the eminent Emersons to save her from a cursed statuette, which she declares has claimed her husband's life and now threatens her own. Though Amelia and Emerson are quick to dispute the validity of the curse, the artifact itself is both genuine and extraordinarily rare. Of course, the danger that accompanies such an incredible find is also real…and adds delightfully chilling complications to this tale of Amelia and Emerson's long-awaited return to the Valley of the Kings. Sue Stone

bn.com

Peters lays out her scenes of romantic derring-do with such a lavish hand that it seems a bit nerdy to draw attention to the deeper pleasure of the rich scholarship involved in these archaeological mysteries.
— THe New York Times

Marilyn Stasio

MWA Grand Master Peters delivers another winner that you can't put down and yet don't want to see end, the 17th entry in her bestselling series to feature Egyptologist Amelia Peabody Emerson and her extended family (after 2004's Guardian of the Horizon). Early in 1922, novelist Magda Petherick, the widow of noted collector Pringle Petherick, interrupts the tea that the Emerson clan are enjoying on the veranda of their house by the Nile. Mrs. Petherick wants Emerson, Amelia's eminent archeologist husband, to dispose of a beautiful golden statuette that Pringle acquired shortly before his death because she believes it carries a curse. All are intrigued. News travels fast, and such a magnificent artifact soon attracts all manner of collectors, museum authorities, journalists and evildoers. Emerson's illegitimate half-brother, Sethos, formerly a dealer in illegal antiquities, arrives in disguise, but unfortunately he's followed by the gentleman he's impersonating. Tomb excavations, mountain treks, brutal attacks, an abduction, an exorcism and murder keep the plot hopping. The author's droll sense of humor and picture of a leisurely and less complicated age add to the appeal. Agent, Dominick Abel. (On sale Mar. 29) Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.

Publishers Weekly

Intrepid sleuth, archaeologist, and matriarch Amelia Peabody returns in her 17th appearance to date. In autumn 1921, widowed Mrs. Petherick gives Amelia and husband Emerson a valuable gold statue, pleading with them to remove the curse on it that killed her husband. Peabody, always a skeptic, wonders why Mrs. Petherick is so eager to unload the statue when she and her stepchildren could clearly use the money a sale would bring. Emerson vows to uncover the tomb from which the statue was stolen, which requires extensive excavations in the Valley of the Kings. Could the statue be from an undiscovered tomb in the valley? Perhaps famed archaelogist Howard Carter could help investigate. The narrative contains the usual disappearances, muggings, chases, and clever disguises we have come to expect from the Emerson family. The book suffers, though, from minimal character development and a skimpy plot. In-jokes for "Informed Readers" aside, this isn't Peters's best work, but is certainly a required purchase for any public library. Peters lives in western Maryland. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 12/1/04].-Laurel Bliss, Princeton Univ. Lib., NJ Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.

Library Journal

More murder and mayhem for the indefatigable Amelia Peabody and her friends and relations. It's 1922. Peabody and Emerson, her handsome, clever, duplicitous Egyptologist husband, are excavating at Deir el Medina along with their son Ramses, his wife Nefret and the usual supporting cast when well-known collector Pringle Petherick's widow Magda arrives and presents Emerson with a solid-gold figure of a king she claims is cursed. The valuable statue soon attracts a rush of other aspiring owners: Magda's stepchildren, the resourceful Harriet and her brother Adrian, who suffers from war-related mental problems; Emerson's rich American friend Cyrus Vandergelt; the repellent Sir Malcolm, and a host of other thieves, one of them successful. When Magda disappears, Peabody assumes she's trying to publicize her authorial career, but not to the extent of leaving her corpse under a bush in the hotel garden. Emerson, who's determined to solve the murder and return the statue to its rightful owner, is joined by his mysterious brother Sethos and Ramses' friend David. The police think Adrian is the killer, but there are many other possibilities, and Peabody is lucky to escape the thicket of interrelated problems with her life before the denouement. Peabody's Victorian rhetoric can go over the top, but her likable family's fans will find much to enjoy in an adventure less convoluted than usual (The Falcon at the Portal, 1999, etc.), salted with the obligatory tidbits of Egyptology.

Kirkus Reviews