Cover image for He shall thunder in the sky : an Amelia Peabody mystery
Title:
He shall thunder in the sky : an Amelia Peabody mystery
Author:
Peters, Elizabeth.
Personal Author:
Edition:
[Large print edition].
Publication Information:
Thorndike, Me. : Thorndike Press, [2000]

©2000
Physical Description:
728 pages ; 23 cm
Language:
English
Geographic Term:
ISBN:
9780786228270

9780786228287
Format :
Book

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Summary

Summary

The close of 1914 finds Amelia Peabody and her husband Radcliffe Emerson back in Egypt for another archaeological excavation -- despite the increasing danger of an attack on the Suez Canal and on Egypt itself. Trouble is brewing in Cairo, and the defiantly pacifist stance of headstrong young Ramses Emerson is earning much derision from the British expatriate community. There is no standing outside this political hurricane, so Amelia plunges directly into it. Then an artifact uncovered at a Giza dig confirms Amelia's suspicions: the chaos has masked the reemergence of her archnemesis, Sethos.


Author Notes

Barbara Mertz was born on September 29, 1927 in Astoria, Illinois. She received a bachelor's degree in 1947, a master's degree in 1950 and doctorate in Egyptology in 1952 from the University of Chicago. She wrote a few books using her real name including Temples, Tombs and Hieroglyphs (1964), Red Land, Black Land (1966), and Two Thousand Years in Rome (1968). She also wrote under the pen names Barbara Michaels and Elizabeth Peters.

She made her fiction debut, The Master of Blacktower, under the name Barbara Michaels in 1966. She wrote over two dozen novels using this pen name including Sons of the Wolf, Someone in the House, Vanish with the Rose, Dancing Floor, and Other Worlds.

Her debut novel under the pen name Elizabeth Peters was The Jackal's Head in 1968. She also wrote the Amelia Peabody series and Vicky Bliss Mystery series using this name. She died on August 8, 2013 at the age of 85.

(Bowker Author Biography)


Barbara Mertz was born on September 29, 1927 in Astoria, Illinois. She received a bachelor's degree in 1947, a master's degree in 1950 and doctorate in Egyptology in 1952 from the University of Chicago. She wrote a few books using her real name including Temples, Tombs and Hieroglyphs (1964), Red Land, Black Land (1966), and Two Thousand Years in Rome (1968). She also wrote under the pen names Barbara Michaels and Elizabeth Peters.

She made her fiction debut, The Master of Blacktower, under the name Barbara Michaels in 1966. She wrote over two dozen novels using this pen name including Sons of the Wolf, Someone in the House, Vanish with the Rose, Dancing Floor, and Other Worlds.

Her debut novel under the pen name Elizabeth Peters was The Jackal's Head in 1968. She also wrote the Amelia Peabody series and Vicky Bliss Mystery series using this name. She died on August 8, 2013 at the age of 85.

(Bowker Author Biography)


Reviews 6

Booklist Review

It's hard not to like the characters we've watched evolve over the years in the Amelia Peabody series: genteel Amelia, who dresses the part of a lady but has a sword hidden in her umbrella; brave, blustering Emerson, aptly named "Father of Curses" by the Egyptians with whom he works on his archaeological digs; Ramses, their courageous, quick-witted son; and adopted children Nefret and David. In this episode, which takes place in 1915, the family's annual excavations in Egypt are overshadowed by the specter of world war. An invasion of Egypt by the Turks seems imminent, the climate is ripe for spies, and it isn't long before the Emerson clan is up to its eyebrows in intrigue. Then there's Emerson's discovery of a beautiful gold statue: Has the ardent archvillain Sethos returned with more tricks? Peters works in drama galore, plus the usual shots of wry humor and local color. There's also some unexpected closure when long-held secrets unravel and broken ties are mended--all of which will leave series fans wondering what's to come next. --Stephanie Zvirin


Publisher's Weekly Review

The latest superb installment in this renowned series is one of Peters's best. Amelia Peabody Emerson and her husband are the sort of dauntless archeologists who would never let a minor event like a world war distract them from their work. After all, they've been digging in the mild Egyptian winters for years. Now the younger members of the family--son Ramses and foster son and daughter David and Nefret--join their intrepid elders in their adventures, and the saga is all the richer for the new blood. As the Middle Eastern front of World War I develops during the excavation season of 1914-1915, the British are determined to hold Egypt and the Suez Canal against the Turks, who are allies of Germany. Ramses is loudly proclaiming pacifist sentiments, even as elderly ladies are handing him white feathers as a symbol of cowardice. Amelia and husband Emerson are doggedly trying to continue their usual work schedule in the face of the growing horrors of the war and the machinations of villains as evil as they have ever encountered. Even Lawrence of Arabia has a minor part to play. Despite having produced 11 previous tales of Egyptological mystery and detection, Peters still writes a deeply satisfying story that combines elements of espionage, mystery and romance. Some big surprises are in store for readers while Peters deftly ties her subplots together, but a few threads are left dangling enticingly at the end, leaving fans to expect another installment in this extraordinary series. Dual Selection of the Mystery Guild. (May) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved


Library Journal Review

Excavating in Egypt on the eve of World War I, Amelia Peabody is in trouble with the British ex-pat community for her pacifist beliefs even as her nemesis--Sethos, the Master Criminal--reappears. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.


Booklist Review

It's hard not to like the characters we've watched evolve over the years in the Amelia Peabody series: genteel Amelia, who dresses the part of a lady but has a sword hidden in her umbrella; brave, blustering Emerson, aptly named "Father of Curses" by the Egyptians with whom he works on his archaeological digs; Ramses, their courageous, quick-witted son; and adopted children Nefret and David. In this episode, which takes place in 1915, the family's annual excavations in Egypt are overshadowed by the specter of world war. An invasion of Egypt by the Turks seems imminent, the climate is ripe for spies, and it isn't long before the Emerson clan is up to its eyebrows in intrigue. Then there's Emerson's discovery of a beautiful gold statue: Has the ardent archvillain Sethos returned with more tricks? Peters works in drama galore, plus the usual shots of wry humor and local color. There's also some unexpected closure when long-held secrets unravel and broken ties are mended--all of which will leave series fans wondering what's to come next. --Stephanie Zvirin


Publisher's Weekly Review

The latest superb installment in this renowned series is one of Peters's best. Amelia Peabody Emerson and her husband are the sort of dauntless archeologists who would never let a minor event like a world war distract them from their work. After all, they've been digging in the mild Egyptian winters for years. Now the younger members of the family--son Ramses and foster son and daughter David and Nefret--join their intrepid elders in their adventures, and the saga is all the richer for the new blood. As the Middle Eastern front of World War I develops during the excavation season of 1914-1915, the British are determined to hold Egypt and the Suez Canal against the Turks, who are allies of Germany. Ramses is loudly proclaiming pacifist sentiments, even as elderly ladies are handing him white feathers as a symbol of cowardice. Amelia and husband Emerson are doggedly trying to continue their usual work schedule in the face of the growing horrors of the war and the machinations of villains as evil as they have ever encountered. Even Lawrence of Arabia has a minor part to play. Despite having produced 11 previous tales of Egyptological mystery and detection, Peters still writes a deeply satisfying story that combines elements of espionage, mystery and romance. Some big surprises are in store for readers while Peters deftly ties her subplots together, but a few threads are left dangling enticingly at the end, leaving fans to expect another installment in this extraordinary series. Dual Selection of the Mystery Guild. (May) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved


Library Journal Review

Excavating in Egypt on the eve of World War I, Amelia Peabody is in trouble with the British ex-pat community for her pacifist beliefs even as her nemesis--Sethos, the Master Criminal--reappears. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.


Excerpts

Excerpts

He Shall Thunder in the Sky An Amelia Peabody Mystery Chapter One I found it lying on the floor of the corridor that led to our sleeping chambers. I was standing there, holding it between my fingertips, when Ramses came out of his room. When he saw what I had in my hand his heavy dark eyebrows lifted, but he waited for me to speak first. "Another white feather," I said. "Yours, I presume?" "Yes, thank you." He plucked it from my fingers. "It must have fallen from my pocket when I took out my handkerchief. I will put it with the others." Except for his impeccably accented English and a certain indefinable air about his bearing (I always say no one slouches quite as elegantly as an Englishman), an observer might have taken my son for one of the Egyptians among whom he had spent most of his life. He had the same wavy black hair and thick lashes, the same bronzed skin. In other ways he bore a strong resemblance to his father, who had emerged from our room in time to hear the foregoing exchange. Like Ramses, he had changed to his working costume of wrinkled flannels and collarless shirt, and as they stood side by side they looked more like elder and younger brother than father and son. Emerson's tall, broad-shouldered frame was as trim as that of Ramses, and the streak of white hair at each temple emphasized the gleam of his raven locks. At the moment the resemblance between them was obscured by the difference in their expressions. Emerson's sapphire-blue orbs blazed; his son's black eyes were half-veiled by lowered lids. Emerson's brows were drawn together, Ramses's were raised; Ramses's lips were tightly compressed, while Emerson's had drawn back to display his large square teeth. "Curse it," he shouted. "Who had the confounded audacity to accuse you of cowardice? I hope you punched him on the jaw!" "I could hardly have done that, since the kind donor was a lady," Ramses replied, tucking the white feather carefully into his shirt pocket. "Who?" I demanded. "What does it matter? It is not the first I have received, nor will it be the last." Since the outbreak of war in August, a good many fowl had been denuded of their plumage by patriotic ladies who presented these symbols of cowardice to young men not in uniform. Patriotism is not a quality I despise, but in my humble opinion it is despicable to shame someone into facing dangers from which one is exempt by reason of gender, age, or physical disability. Two of my nephews and the sons of many of our friends were on their way to France. I would not have held them back, but neither would I have had it on my conscience that I had urged them to go. I had not been obliged to face that painful choice with my son. We had sailed for Egypt in October, since my dear Emerson (the greatest Egyptologist of this or any other age) would not have allowed anyone, much less the Kaiser, to interfere with his annual excavations. It was not a retreat from peril; in fact, we might soon be in greater danger than those who remained in England. That the Ottoman Empire would eventually enter the war on the side of Germany and Austro-Hungary no one of intelligence doubted. For years the Kaiser had courted the Sultan, lending him vast amounts of money and building railroads and bridges through Syria and Palestine. Even the German-financed archaeological expeditions in the area were believed to have an ulterior motive. Archaeology offers excellent cover for spying and subversion, and moralists were fond of pointing out that the flag of imperial Germany flew over the site of Megiddo, the biblical Armageddon. Turkey's entry into the war came on November 5, and it was followed by the formal annexation of Egypt by Britain; the Veiled Protectorate had become a protectorate in reality. The Turks controlled Palestine, and between Palestine and Egypt lay the Sinai and the Suez Canal, Britain's lifeline to the east. The capture of the Canal would deal Britain a mortal blow. An invasion of Egypt would surely follow, for the Ottoman Empire had never forgiven or forgotten the loss of its former province. And to the west of Egypt the warlike Senussi tribesmen, armed and trained by Turkey, presented a growing threat to British-occupied Egypt. By December Cairo was under martial law, the press censored, public assemblages (of Egyptians) forbidden, the Khedive deposed in favor of his more compliant uncle, the nascent nationalist movement suppressed and its leaders sent into exile or prison. These regrettable measures were justified, at least in the eyes of those who enforced them, by the increasing probability of an attack on the Canal. I could understand why nerves in Cairo were somewhat strained, but that was no excuse, in my opinion, for rude behavior to my son. "It is not fair," I exclaimed. "I have not seen the young English officials in Cairo rushing off to volunteer. Why has public opinion concentrated on you?" Ramses shrugged. His foster sister had once compared his countenance to that of a pharaonic statue because of the regularity of his features and their habitual impassivity. At this moment they looked even stonier than usual. "I have been rather too prone to express in public what I feel about this senseless, wasteful war. It's probably because I was not properly brought up," he added seriously. "You never taught me that the young should defer to their elders." "I tried," I assured him. Emerson fingered the dimple (or cleft, as he prefers to call it) in his chin, as was his habit when deep in thought or somewhat perturbed. "I understand your reluctance to shoot at poor fellows whose only crime is that they have been conscripted by their leaders; but-er-is it true that you refused to join the staff of the new Military Intelligence Department?" "Ah," said Ramses thoughtfully. "So that bit of information is now public property? No wonder so many charming ladies have recently added to my collection of feathers. Yes, sir, I did refuse. Would you like me to justify my decision?" "No," Emerson muttered. "Mother?" "Er-no, it is not necessary." "I am greatly obliged to you," said Ramses... He Shall Thunder in the Sky An Amelia Peabody Mystery . Copyright © by Elizabeth Peters. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from He Shall Thunder in the Sky by Elizabeth Peters All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
He Shall Thunder in the Sky An Amelia Peabody Mystery Chapter One I found it lying on the floor of the corridor that led to our sleeping chambers. I was standing there, holding it between my fingertips, when Ramses came out of his room. When he saw what I had in my hand his heavy dark eyebrows lifted, but he waited for me to speak first. "Another white feather," I said. "Yours, I presume?" "Yes, thank you." He plucked it from my fingers. "It must have fallen from my pocket when I took out my handkerchief. I will put it with the others." Except for his impeccably accented English and a certain indefinable air about his bearing (I always say no one slouches quite as elegantly as an Englishman), an observer might have taken my son for one of the Egyptians among whom he had spent most of his life. He had the same wavy black hair and thick lashes, the same bronzed skin. In other ways he bore a strong resemblance to his father, who had emerged from our room in time to hear the foregoing exchange. Like Ramses, he had changed to his working costume of wrinkled flannels and collarless shirt, and as they stood side by side they looked more like elder and younger brother than father and son. Emerson's tall, broad-shouldered frame was as trim as that of Ramses, and the streak of white hair at each temple emphasized the gleam of his raven locks. At the moment the resemblance between them was obscured by the difference in their expressions. Emerson's sapphire-blue orbs blazed; his son's black eyes were half-veiled by lowered lids. Emerson's brows were drawn together, Ramses's were raised; Ramses's lips were tightly compressed, while Emerson's had drawn back to display his large square teeth. "Curse it," he shouted. "Who had the confounded audacity to accuse you of cowardice? I hope you punched him on the jaw!" "I could hardly have done that, since the kind donor was a lady," Ramses replied, tucking the white feather carefully into his shirt pocket. "Who?" I demanded. "What does it matter? It is not the first I have received, nor will it be the last." Since the outbreak of war in August, a good many fowl had been denuded of their plumage by patriotic ladies who presented these symbols of cowardice to young men not in uniform. Patriotism is not a quality I despise, but in my humble opinion it is despicable to shame someone into facing dangers from which one is exempt by reason of gender, age, or physical disability. Two of my nephews and the sons of many of our friends were on their way to France. I would not have held them back, but neither would I have had it on my conscience that I had urged them to go. I had not been obliged to face that painful choice with my son. We had sailed for Egypt in October, since my dear Emerson (the greatest Egyptologist of this or any other age) would not have allowed anyone, much less the Kaiser, to interfere with his annual excavations. It was not a retreat from peril; in fact, we might soon be in greater danger than those who remained in England. That the Ottoman Empire would eventually enter the war on the side of Germany and Austro-Hungary no one of intelligence doubted. For years the Kaiser had courted the Sultan, lending him vast amounts of money and building railroads and bridges through Syria and Palestine. Even the German-financed archaeological expeditions in the area were believed to have an ulterior motive. Archaeology offers excellent cover for spying and subversion, and moralists were fond of pointing out that the flag of imperial Germany flew over the site of Megiddo, the biblical Armageddon. Turkey's entry into the war came on November 5, and it was followed by the formal annexation of Egypt by Britain; the Veiled Protectorate had become a protectorate in reality. The Turks controlled Palestine, and between Palestine and Egypt lay the Sinai and the Suez Canal, Britain's lifeline to the east. The capture of the Canal would deal Britain a mortal blow. An invasion of Egypt would surely follow, for the Ottoman Empire had never forgiven or forgotten the loss of its former province. And to the west of Egypt the warlike Senussi tribesmen, armed and trained by Turkey, presented a growing threat to British-occupied Egypt. By December Cairo was under martial law, the press censored, public assemblages (of Egyptians) forbidden, the Khedive deposed in favor of his more compliant uncle, the nascent nationalist movement suppressed and its leaders sent into exile or prison. These regrettable measures were justified, at least in the eyes of those who enforced them, by the increasing probability of an attack on the Canal. I could understand why nerves in Cairo were somewhat strained, but that was no excuse, in my opinion, for rude behavior to my son. "It is not fair," I exclaimed. "I have not seen the young English officials in Cairo rushing off to volunteer. Why has public opinion concentrated on you?" Ramses shrugged. His foster sister had once compared his countenance to that of a pharaonic statue because of the regularity of his features and their habitual impassivity. At this moment they looked even stonier than usual. "I have been rather too prone to express in public what I feel about this senseless, wasteful war. It's probably because I was not properly brought up," he added seriously. "You never taught me that the young should defer to their elders." "I tried," I assured him. Emerson fingered the dimple (or cleft, as he prefers to call it) in his chin, as was his habit when deep in thought or somewhat perturbed. "I understand your reluctance to shoot at poor fellows whose only crime is that they have been conscripted by their leaders; but-er-is it true that you refused to join the staff of the new Military Intelligence Department?" "Ah," said Ramses thoughtfully. "So that bit of information is now public property? No wonder so many charming ladies have recently added to my collection of feathers. Yes, sir, I did refuse. Would you like me to justify my decision?" "No," Emerson muttered. "Mother?" "Er-no, it is not necessary." "I am greatly obliged to you," said Ramses... He Shall Thunder in the Sky An Amelia Peabody Mystery . Copyright © by Elizabeth Peters. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from He Shall Thunder in the Sky by Elizabeth Peters All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.