Luxor Lost and Found

by Graham Warren

  “I’m not sure which shocked him more, hearing of Ramses smashing his red wine twice or you shouting at him.”

  “I think I slightly had the edge.” They giggled.

  Three soon returned with a new pitcher full of tamar-hindi as well as fresh glasses. As he set about clearing up the broken glass and removing the dark wet stain from the carpet, he had to ask. “Did I really hear you say that Ramses broke two glasses of red wine in anger?”

  “Yes, you did,” replied Kate.

  “I have never heard of him doing such a thing. His red wine is something he treasures more than anything.”

  “I wonder if it eases his guilt.”

  “Sorry, Mr Alex, I do not understand.”

  “Please do not start calling me ‘Mr Alex,’ as I have enough of Cairo doing that.”

  “Okay, but what guilt?”

  Forty-five minutes later they had brought Cairo and Three up to speed. It also helped the three young adventurers to gel. They were a genuine team again.

  Three was the most shocked of them all. He of course knew of Henuttawy, and most of all he, like everyone in the family, both ancient and modern, knew better than to mention her name. Discovering that she was an innocent in all this made him angry. Not at Ramses, but at the warlock. It seemed to him to be so wrong that one person had the power to touch the lives of so many in such a negative way, unless of course they were a tax inspector.

  Now that there was no fear of Pharaoh Nakhtifi ever being removed from the afterlife, there was no reason for Three or any other member of the family not to speak English as well as they could. They owned and ran the Winter Palace Hotel and previously had to maintain the pretence in order to keep Nakhtifi safe from the warlock. Three admitted to enjoying speaking Pidgin English to tourists, whilst understanding every word that they said. He felt it gave him an edge. At a meeting the family had held earlier in the day, it turned out that the clear majority of them also felt the same way. So, Pidgin English it was from now on, but without the worry should they speak good English either inadvertently or when they wanted to.

  They chatted and chatted. Time and again the conversation came back to the warlock. He was a cancer and he had to be removed, though of course without the patient dying. Plans were made.

  Alex was to speak to his father, in order to try and find out who, if anyone, was promoting the name of Henuttawy so that she could not be removed from the afterlife.

  Cairo was going to speak to Ropet and Sanuba, the closest members of his ancient family. Being soldiers of fairly low rank, they would hopefully be able to get some leads on where Henuttawy was and who was helping her, without drawing any unwanted attention.

  Kate, as so often with her, knew what she was going to do but would not tell anyone.

  “So much for her working as a team,” Alex thought. He really could not be bothered about what she was going to do. She could sit by the pool for the rest of the week for all he cared. One minute they were a team, the next minute she was off on her own, yet he also wanted to do some things, like speak to his father, on his own. As he got up to leave he thought about how extremely annoyed she was with him, for working out what really had happened when the windows blew out of the Winter Palace. Upon thinking of this he looked to the windows in the bar. Everything was as it was. All repairs had been completed, so only those who had experienced the blast would have any notion of what had happened. He had experienced the blast, and he had almost forgotten about it, because everything was exactly as it was.

  “Alex!”

  “Yes, Kate, what is it?”

  “It is nothing! I was just going to remind you to ask your father if he had heard anything more from that doctor chap, about Ay’s tomb. You know why.”

  “Yes, I do. Yes, I will, and sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”

  “I know you didn’t. You are angry because I will not tell you what I am doing this afternoon.”

  “I’m not,” but of course he was and everyone could see it.

  Kate grabbed him by the hand and dragged him into the lounge. A rather elderly couple, both with a moustache of sorts, gave them a look which would have been no different had a couple of rats had entered. ‘Horrid children go away!’ was written on their faces, as they held their teacups in the air, little fingers outstretched. Kate and Alex left the lounge still hand in hand and both giggling. She dragged him into the empty manager’s office.

  “Did you see the look on their faces?” she said through a giggle, though the giggle did not last long. “I cannot tell you where I am going, because I do not know where to go or who to see.” She flopped down into the manager’s rather comfy chair.

  “What do you mean?” asked Alex and immediately felt really stupid. “I mean …” he started, but then he realised he did not have any idea what else they should be doing. “I see what you mean,” he finally said.

  “It is as if everything inside of me, all my feelings, all my ancient memories were there to ensure the safety of Nakhtifi. Now he is safe, I have no purpose.” She paused for a long moment. “You joined me on my adventure, and now that adventure is over.”

  “You still have your ancient memories, don’t you?”

  “Yes … but they are not becoming any clearer. My brain is in a fog.”

  “You may not like me saying this, but perhaps this time you have to follow me on my adventure.” Alex was correct in his assumption as she let him know in no uncertain terms that this was her adventure, yet her rebuke did not have the ferocity of a couple of weeks ago. Alex struggled to think of what Kate should be doing. He was saved when the manager’s door opened and Three stuck his head in.

  “Rose is here to see you, young miss.”

  Kate and Alex shared the same thought. Go with Rose and get Gadeem to tell as much about old magic and the warlock as possible. There must be a weakness they could exploit and if anyone was likely to know of it, it was Gadeem. Kate gave Alex a quick kiss on the cheek before she ran from the room.

  Chapter 4

  -

  Worker Trouble

  It was slightly less than an hour later when Alex stepped out of the taxi at the end of the Valley of the Baboons. The city of tents had expanded greatly and so had the number of workers. He could hear his father’s frustrated voice emanating from up by the tomb of Ay, though he could not make out what he was saying. From the tone of it, things were not going well at the dig.

  In his rush to get to see his father, Alex had forgotten his security pass. This, however, posed to be no problem as there was no security. The large army vehicle had been replaced by three men, each of whom wore a security badge, though each was just as equally asleep. Their semi-automatic rifles, possibly automatic rifles, Alex had no idea, were on the floor beside them. This was not a good start. A room full of Alexander the Great’s plundered gold was being brought out to be photographed and catalogued in any one of many tents. Nobody really knew what they had, so how would they know when something went missing? Everything was happening far too fast for this to be good archaeology.

  Now, as he approached the tomb of Ay, he could hear clearly what his father was saying. He was repeating the thoughts Alex had just had. This was bad archaeology, security was a joke and treasures were going missing. Quentin was screaming this down a landline phone. Alex was glad he was not on the other end of the line. He then realised nobody now was, as his father slammed the receiver down in annoyance. Upon seeing his son, Quentin went into a monologue. There was no way Alex was going to get a word in.

  It turned out that the army had fitted the landline phone just this morning, in case of emergency. Quentin had argued that he needed a satellite phone, as all anyone had to do was to cut the wires anywhere along the valley to render their security phone useless. Alex took his mobile out. There was no signal. He understood his mobile would not work inside the tomb of Ay, but he had presumed that it would work outside of it. Obviously, he was wrong in his assumption. Quentin’s main frustration w
as born of the fact that he had been given a further fifty non-English speaking workers, yet he was still waiting for translators as well as archaeologists, both Egyptian and English, to arrive.

  When Quentin finally reached the end of his rant, Alex asked if he would trust him to deal with the problem. He happily agreed.

  “Listen to me,” Alex shouted at the top of his voice as he pointed back to the security he had passed on the way in. “I have fifty Egyptian pounds for any worker who can bring me the gun of any of those three security men, without waking any of them. If you wake them, the deal is off.” For an offer of less than five English pounds, Alex had immediately uncovered those who could understand English and also brought the guards not only back to life, but back to life with senses heightened. His gamble was a simple one … greed. So many would want the fifty Egyptian pounds that they would not work as a team and split the proceeds, they would run down en masse and this would wake the guards, which is exactly what happened.

  Eighteen workers instantly understood what he had said. Without hesitation they ran down the guards. Seven others also ran down, but Alex disregarded these as followers and sent them back to work. “Okay,” he said to the eighteen. “You failed to earn yourselves an extra fifty Egyptian pounds between you.”

  “No English,” they kept repeating as they went back to work.

  “What I am offering,” shouted Alex to their backs, “is an extra fifty Egyptian pounds each, every week, not every month, every week, if you work as translators.”

  Quentin had sat down at the large wooden table where they usually had lunch. He marvelled at how Alex had grown from a boy to a man.

  In no time at all Alex had each translator marked as such by tying a piece of white packing plastic around their right wrists. These he had borrowed from some of the boxes of water. Whoever lifted any one of those eighteen boxes was in for a surprise, and not a very pleasant one. Each translator was pared with three workers. Just a few had to be paired with four workers.

  Alex’s first order to the translators was to tell everyone to go home. He also told them that each man would be personally searched by himself or Quentin, not by security as he left. Anyone found to be ‘borrowing’ an ancient artefact would be walking home and would not be welcome back. He added that not only would the worker concerned not be welcome back, but none of his team would be either. This was Alex’s masterstroke. He thought there would be a few workers who may want to take items, but to find four or five workers who all wanted to steal and lose their very well paid jobs, was against the odds.

  The workers lined up to be searched. Quentin did not like this idea at all and had told Alex so. Alex asked him to remain seated as he walked up one line of workers and back down the other. As he did, he looked each worker in the eye. Once back to where Quentin was sitting he told them all to go home. Less than five minutes later Alex and Quentin were sitting with a much-needed bottle of cold water each with just three security guards for company, though they were some fifty metres away.

  “I think I am losing it. I used to be able to deal with situations like this, but not anymore. You really did arrive at the right time.”

  “You are under an amazing amount of pressure, Dad. The world’s press is hounding you, there are great expectations of you and you gave up your university. I never thought you would do that.”

  “To tell you the truth, I acted in haste there. Anyway, it is too late now as I told them what to do and where to shove it. Not at all like me, but you must admit that it has been not only crazy, but also a very stressful time since we arrived in Thebes.” Quentin, being an expert, possibly the world’s leading expert on Egypt when it was under Greek rule, always referred to Luxor by its Greek name, Thebes.

  “I’m sure if you contacted them, they would have you back. With a find like this you would be worth your weight in gold.”

  “You would think so but it doesn’t work like that. Not in academia. This find would immediately mean a big promotion for me, so suddenly at least ten professors who were above me would effectively be beneath me. They would never accept that. I made it easy for them by resigning.”

  Alex decided to change the subject. “When will the UK archaeologists be arriving?”

  “Early tomorrow morning by Egypt Air. Six juniors, four of my contemporaries and my friend Dr Margretti along with his assistant.”

  “Juniors?” asked Alex.

  “We call them juniors. They are second year archaeologists. Always eager to dig, but still green behind the ears.”

  “That reminds me, did Dr Margretti have any more thoughts on the gold chamber of Ay?” It did not remind Alex at all, but he preferred the casual approach.

  “Yes, yes he did. I had forgotten with everything suddenly becoming so crazy. After agreeing with Kate over the possibility of a gold chamber, he carried out some covert research. Dr Margretti is now quite certain that the entrance to it will be below the hunting scene. It would be the most logical place, as the rest of the tomb is a copy of Tutankhamun’s. It looks as though Kate was barking up the right tree, though we would never get permission to knock a hole in the wall. Neither the Dr nor I can work out how we missed this, how all academics missed this. Well done, Kate, is what I say.”

  Alex was pleased he would be able to tell Kate this, as it may well restore some of her confidence. He was trying to find the words he needed, as he wanted to ask his dad about his adoption, and also the ancient buttons with the head of Cleopatra on them. One of which he held in his hand whilst the other Quentin had unearthed on a dig, and was now in the British Museum. Both turned out to be from Aryamani, Alex’s ancient ancestor. This was far too much of a coincidence. He would have to pick his words carefully.

  Just as Alex had worked out how to phrase the question, yet before he could say anything, his thoughts were diverted: there was a rumble off in the distance. Quentin removed the bottle of water from his lips, by the look on his face he had also heard the ever-increasing rumble. It was then that the ground started to shake. They both remained seated because any attempt to stand up would prove futile. It was difficult enough to remain seated as the ground around them shuddered ever more violently.

  “Is this an earthquake or is this the warlock?” thought Alex. He received his answer in an instant, when, without any warning, the table between them flew up into the air. With it high above his head Alex had no option except to dive forward. It was the only direction in which he could move quickly. He took Quentin out and they both ended up on the ground. Alex landed face down. He spun himself over just in time to see the table crash down with more force than gravity itself could supply. The chair he had been sitting on only moments earlier was history. Fragments of it and the table went everywhere.

  They were now both bleeding. Quentin from a nasty looking gash above his left eye, and Alex from an equally nasty gash from where a flying piece of table had so effortlessly torn through both his T-shirt and his flesh. Neither of them had time to think of pain as the rock face behind them started to crumble. At first small pebbles showered down upon them, though they were quickly followed by jagged pieces of rock. With every second that passed both the size and amount of rock falling increased.

  “We are going to die if we stay here,” shouted Alex. As if to confirm his statement, he immediately suffered a glancing blow from a falling rock. Now he was also bleeding from above his left eye. Neither of them could see well as the blood was free flowing, and neither could stand as the violence of the shaking ground continued to increase. “Any ideas, Dad?” Using the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe blood out of his eyes, Alex saw that it had become unnaturally dark for the time of day. He looked up, only to immediately wish that he had not. The entire rock face was now leaning over them at an unnatural angle and about to crash down with unrelenting force.

  Chapter 5

  -

  Tea, Scones and Red Wine

  “These scones are delicious.” Kate really meant it. Rose had baked them and also
made the Himbeermarmelade. This was what she had read on the handwritten label around the jar as the picnic hamper had been unpacked.

  Rose enlightened Kate as to its meaning. “It is German for raspberry jam. I make as many jars as I can each year, because it is a particular favourite of Gadeem’s.”

  “It most certainly is,” he said. “It is the perfect topping for scones. There really is nothing quite like Rose’s Himbeermarmelade.” Outwardly, Gadeem appeared to be back to his old self.

  Earlier, when they had stepped into Rose’s multi-coloured, battered and beaten old Volvo, after leaving the Winter Palace, Kate had expected to be taken back to the roof of her villa. They did not, however, turn off for the villa. Rose drove past it as they chatted away. Kate showed an amazing lack of curiosity, because at no time on their journey towards the West Bank of Luxor did the idea of asking where they were going spring into her mind.

  Just a short distance after passing the Colossi of Memnon, the two enormous stone figures of Amenhotep III, which steadfastly remained seated in front of the now long gone first pylon of his temple, Rose turned right onto an unmade track. To call it a road would vastly overstate its size and condition. Though Rose drove very slowly, Kate was bounced around like a rag doll.

  “Where is this?” asked Kate as the car came to a halt.

  “This is where we are going to have afternoon tea,” Rose said with a smile.

  “Up there?” Kate pointed up above a jumble of carved blocks which had obviously formed an important part of something ancient. There, on the very top, sat a round table, several chairs and an overly large parasol, of the type used by archaeologists at their excavations.

  “Yes, up there.” Rose looked thoughtful before asking Kate if she was having trouble with her ancient memories, because they were somewhere she should have known.

  “Not trouble exactly. It feels like there is so much I should know, though I cannot see it yet.”