by H. B. Moore
“Your thesis will be better than anything else written on the subject. Forget the theories out there of the queen living in Egypt. We’re going right to the heart of her birth land.”
Staring at him, she asked, “Isn’t it all just a big desert?”
Lucas smiled. “That’s an understatement. The region of Ubar contains eight ancient oases, including the dunes in the Empty Quarter that reach over two hundred meters in height. Today, man can travel only in the night during the hot summer months. The explorer Thesiger once called the desert of Southern Arabia ‘a bitter, desiccated land,’ but it wasn’t always that way. In the early 1990s, Nicholas Clapp discovered an entire civilization beneath the sand, with a little help from NASA. In antiquity, what we now know as a desert bloomed like a garden—fertile valleys, monsoon seasons, and cultivated farms dotted the region. A lot has changed in three thousand years.”
“A garden,” Jade said. “Could it be the ‘hortum’ spoken of in the note?”
His hands fell into his lap. “Brilliant. Very possibly a garden.” He linked his fingers behind his neck. “I’m not going to look at that note as a threat, but as an invitation.”
“Where do we start?”
“The patriarch received special permission from the Omani government to visit. Quite easily, I might add. It makes me wonder if Yemen is already up to something, and Oman wants to beat them at their game.”
“What do you mean, ‘game’?” Jade asked.
“There will be some competition once we get there,” he said. “Underground organizations such as AWP—Ancient World Piracy—will be vying for possession. They have been at odds with the patriarch for a decade. He has thwarted several of their undercover digs, costing them millions. Wherever we go, we’re bound to run into some . . . complications. Don’t forget that millions of dollars and lasting fame will be the lot of whatever lucky man makes the find.”
“Or woman.”
His gaze turned inquisitive. Jade’s pulse quickened, and she focused on the ring on her finger. It had flamed orange. Daring. “You don’t think a discovery will be made?” she asked.
“Something will be discovered.” He tapped her hand. “The most important thing, ma chérie, is to trust me. No matter what happens.”
A flight attendant stopped in the aisle, offering drinks and pastries. Jade selected a pastry and took a bite of the honeyed baklava. The exotic flavor burst on her tongue, and she closed her eyes for an instant, savoring the flaky sweetness.
Lucas stirred the ice in his drink, seeming to be lost in thought.
“Tell me more about that pirate group—AWP?” Jade asked.
He stopped stirring, the ice cubes clinking together. “Ancient World Piracy is a tradition handed down from antiquity. It’s become a worldwide organization, although it’s very private. In fact, some governments deny its existence.”
“It began in antiquity?”
He nodded. “The concept of piracy emerged in 800 BC, but the actions of warfare and piracy were evident at least a thousand years before that.” He leaned back in his seat, his head turned toward her. “The advent of boats on water brought the birth of the pirate. The actual word ‘pirate’ comes through the Latin ‘pirata’, as translated from Greek, meaning ‘attacks on ships.’ ”
I know the root of pirate, Jade wanted to say. But she was mesmerized by the details and didn’t want to interrupt Lucas’s story.
“From the earliest establishment of wealth on the earth, there have always been those who aren’t willing to earn their living, but would rather pillage for it.” He took a sip of his drink.
“So what sets these guys apart from any other modern-day thieves?”
“AWP sees itself as a group of pirates searching for ancient treasure,” he said. “They put on a facade of preserving artifacts, but they use coercion, bribery, and sometimes murder to collect their goods. They also worship pagan deities and perform ancient rites, which bind them together stronger than most blood relatives.”
“Ancient rites?” she prompted. She took another bite of the pastry. The tiredness pressing against her temples eased a little as the sweetness of the baklava warmed her senses.
“Warding off evil spirits of the desert—the evil djinns—by singing and dancing around frankincense trees, treating their women as no more than slaves of pleasure, and performing human sacrifice.”
Jade swallowed, not feeling hungry anymore. She didn’t know which should appall her more—women as objects or human sacrifice. “Do they still practice sacrifice?”
He hesitated. “There’ve been rumors . . .”
“What do you think?”
“They were doing them a hundred years ago—why change now?” He signaled the flight attendant and gave her his glass. After the stewardess headed down the aisle, he looked at Jade again. “You should catch some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day.” He reached up and switched off the overhead light.
Jade switched her light off too, but stared at the darkened window, twisting her ring. It looked amber in the dim light. Anxious. Lucas fell asleep almost immediately, his soft snores barely audible above the engine. Her thoughts still tumbled. She pulled her phone from her bag and summarized what Lucas had said about djinns and human sacrifice. It made her shudder. When she finished, she reached for a blanket and pulled it around her shoulders. It seemed that just as she reclined her seat and closed her eyes, the pressure in the cabin changed, and Jade opened her eyes to see that they were descending to Ethiopia’s Bole International.
Once off the plane, dry heat assailed them, even though it was two in the morning. The main terminal was under construction, so they walked over to the shuttle to baggage claim.
“Welcome to Addis Ababa,” the shuttle driver said in English.
“Thank you,” Jade mumbled. Her mind was fuzzy, and she knew if the shuttle ride were any longer, she’d fall asleep again. She found a cloth-covered seat and sank into it, Lucas taking the one next to her.
“Where are we staying?” Jade asked through a yawn as the shuttle lurched forward.
“We’ll bypass the hotel and take a taxi directly to Aksum. It’s about nine hundred kilometers.”
Jade rubbed the back of her neck. “Can’t we leave after some sleep?”
“This inscription might be the first real evidence that ties Ethiopia directly to the queen of Sheba,” he said in a quiet voice. “If it is, the Ethiopian legends will become documented history. If there is a leak from DiscoveryArch to AWP, they’ll undoubtedly be on their way. As soon as they find out about the statue, they’ll concoct a way to take over the site and twist things to their benefit. Their financial stability depends on proving that the queen lived and died in Yemen, since they seem to have so much influence with the Yemen government.”
“How can any government allow this treachery to go on?” she asked.
“Just as any government has since the beginning. It’s the vicious cycle of money. AWP gets a private donor, and then offers money to the government for exclusive digging rights, secretly sharing any profits. The artifacts attract private collectors and more donors . . .”
Jade squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. She didn’t know if Lucas’s theory about Lyon’s murder was correct, but after learning about AWP and the bombing of the Jerusalem tomb, she was beginning to believe him.
After they collected their sparse baggage and found a taxi, Lucas said, “You can take the backseat and sleep.”
Jade didn’t remember much else about the early morning hours, except for the random bright lights of an oncoming car, a few exchanged words between Lucas and the taxi driver, and the occasional lurch as the car turned. Jade drifted in and out of sleep and tried not to think of the bed she was missing in an Ethiopian hotel.
When a waft of fresh air blew over her curled-up body, she lifted her head. The taxi was parked, and Lucas had unloaded their things. He
r door stood open, and a pleasant spicy smell entered the vehicle. Sitting, she tried to smooth her hair, feeling the thickness of her dry mouth and dreading what her face must look like.
Lucas leaned into the car. “We’ll eat at this café, then walk to the site.”
She climbed out of the backseat, her aching limbs paying for the cramped position. “What’s that smell?”
“It’s coming from that grove of frankincense trees over there.” He pointed to a wide field of gnarled trees. “Gold of the desert.”
“Gold?”
“Anything worth fighting over is gold in someone’s eyes,” he said, steering her to a table.
An elegant woman, wearing a white dress with elaborate honey-colored stitching, greeted them and took their order. Lucas ordered one of the local dishes for both of them.
After a quick meal of a chicken dish called doro alicha, they set off across the fields, skirting the frankincense trees. Jade’s sluggish body was slow to keep up with Lucas’s brisk pace.
The call of exotic birds caught her attention as they hiked along the rugged ground. Eventually an outcropping of rocks appeared, and Jade realized they were tumbled ruins, not natural rock formations. Lucas stopped and waited for her to catch up.
He swept his arm across the expanse of ruins. “The queen of Sheba’s palace.”
Jade stared in awe at the broken-down walls topping a deep foundation. She pointed to the northern end at a parallel row of stones. “A drainage system?”
“Correct,” Lucas said. “Come on, I’ll show you the best part.”
They descended a slight ridge and saw a flagstone floor still intact in its earthen floor. Jade knelt beside it. “Wow. How old is this?”
“Some say it’s as old as the queen of Sheba.”
She laughed. “Really?”
“At least that’s what everyone thought until it was excavated in the ’60s. That evidence convinced some people this place was built long after the queen would have died.”
“Maybe it was built for one of her heirs, or as a tribute.”
A smile flashed across his scruffy face. “You sound like a hopeful.”
She straightened, aware of their close proximity. “What do you think?”
“How can I say it . . . Possible until proven otherwise?”
Jade smiled. “I like that.”
He held her gaze for a few seconds, then broke away. They spent the next several moments inspecting stairwells, bathing areas, and even a kitchen with preserved brick ovens.
Jade looked beyond the mass of ruins to a collection of stone edifices. “What are those?”
“Granite stelae—obelisks. No excavation had been done in the area until this week.” He rubbed his hands together against the chill of the morning. “Dr. Maskel and his crew should be here soon. They’re the ones who discovered the buried statue.”
Jade scanned the area for signs of recent digging. “Where is it?”
“On the other side of the ridge. It’s probably been moved—”
The whine of a truck cut into Lucas’s words. They both turned and saw a yellow Land Rover skirting the ruins. The vehicle came to a stop, and two Ethiopian men jumped out, leaving the truck idling. They rushed across the uneven ground to Lucas and pumped his hand.
The taller man spoke first. “Welcome, Monsieur Morel.”
Then they turned to Jade—all smiles. “Welcome, welcome. I’m Dr. Maskel, and this is Dr. Shum.”
Jade shook his hand, liking the tall man immediately. He wore colorful robes of silver and blue, topped by a cloche-style hat of the same fabric.
“You made good time,” Dr. Maskel said with a wink.
“We took a taxi straight from the airport,” Jade said.
Dr. Maskel laughed and glanced at Lucas. “That’s the Monsieur Morel I remember.”
The other man, Dr. Shum, stepped forward and bowed to Jade. “Welcome.” He was shorter than his colleague, but his tan robes were equally luxurious.
A few more pleasantries were exchanged, and then Lucas cleared his throat. “Well, let’s see this thing.”
With a chuckle, Dr. Maskel motioned them into the Land Rover. Jade was offered the passenger seat, while the other two men folded themselves into the backseat. Maskel maneuvered along a dirt road, past the freestanding obelisks, and stopped at a low tent on the other side of the ridge.
“No guards?” Lucas asked, his expression pointed.
“Oh yes, we have guards,” said Dr. Maskel. “They’re probably still asleep.”
Lucas let out a snort, and Dr. Maskel rang with laughter. “It will be several days yet before the rest of the world gets wind of this. By then, I promise I’ll have armed guards around the clock at every corner of the field. But first, I want your opinion.”
A shuffling sound came from the tent, and a bleary-eyed man wearing a rumpled robe appeared. “There’s our guard, alert as ever,” Dr. Maskel said. “Now, if you go to the chapel where the Ark of the Covenant is, you’ll see a completely different caliber of security.”
“Nothing gets by those monks,” chimed in Dr. Shum.
Jade smiled. The Ethiopians had been claiming for centuries that they had the Ark of the Covenant under guard in the treasury of the Church of Our Lady Mary of Zion. Of course, no one—not even the patriarch of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church—had seen it. The monks who watched over it were never allowed to leave the church until their deaths.
“Follow me.” Dr. Maskel quickened his long strides.
The four of them entered the tent, and Jade was immediately drawn to the female statue lying on its side. Beneath it was a coarsely woven rug, protecting it from the dirt floor. Lucas walked around it. Every so often he stooped and examined a detail. Dr. Maskel rocked back on his heels, obviously straining to keep his silence. Finally, he burst out, “There’s an inscription at the base.”
Lucas nodded absentmindedly as he inspected the crudely formed hand of the woman. He let his gaze trail the length of the statue’s bare legs, as he mumbled about the style of carving. “Mid to late 950s,” he said to no one in particular. He stopped talking when he examined the engraved letters at the base of the statue. “This statue could very well have been created during the queen’s lifetime.”
Dr. Maskel clapped his hands together and let out a high-pitched squeal. “I knew it! The moment we unearthed the thing, I knew it would be significant.”
Jade suppressed a laugh at the archaeologist’s reaction.
His grin remained plastered on his face as Lucas traced the writing with a finger.
“These two letters form a harsh ‘a’ sound in most early Semitic languages.” Lucas moved his finger to the next letter. “Wait.”
The other men sobered, and Jade held her breath.
“ ‘A-s’ or ‘a-z’ . . . then a hard ‘h—’ ”
“Do you see the ‘ma’?” Dr. Maskel asked. He looked at Jade and mouthed, “For Queen Makeda.”
“It looks like the ‘r’ to me, an ‘r-a.’ ” Lucas looked up, his face strained. “The name of this woman is not Makeda.”
Dr. Maskel visibly flinched, and Dr. Shum crouched next to Lucas. “Are you sure?”
“Well, she’s obviously royalty, so the question now is, who is Azhara?”
“Azhara?” Shum straightened, his knees cracking in the audible silence.
Disappointment was plain on Dr. Maskel’s face.
“I don’t understand it,” Shum said. “If the statue dates to the queen’s era, it has to be her. Who else could have been queen?”
“Perhaps Azhara was a title they gave her, a nickname,” Dr. Maskel spoke rapidly. “Or a version of Makeda . . . maybe a new language she developed, something that died with her reign—”
“I don’t think so,” Lucas said.
An uncomfortable heat climbed up
Jade’s neck as she sensed the tension between the men. She searched her mind for any place where she might have heard the name Azhara, but nothing biblical or historical came to mind. She typed the name into her phone notes and waited for the men to continue.
“What about the second word?” Maskel asked.
“It’s another name.”
“Not the woman’s title?”
“Ta . . . m . . . ba . . . ri . . . ah,” Lucas sounded out. His face paled.
“What’s the origin of Tam-ba-ri-ah?” Dr. Maskel asked in a glum voice. He looked from Lucas to Dr. Shum.
Lucas’s expression was placid, but Jade had been around him nonstop for nearly three days now, and she sensed he knew more than he was telling. With a slight lift of his shoulder, he simply said, “It’s not Arabic or Ethiopian.”
“Egyptian?” Jade suggested.
A thin sheen of perspiration had popped onto Lucas’s forehead. “Hebrew is my guess.”
“Aha!” Dr. Maskel said. “Hebrew it is. Very promising indeed. After all, the queen did travel back and forth to Jerusalem, so it would make sense that Hebrews traveled with her in the party. Azhara might have been another child begat through Solomon, conceived when he came to visit the Ethiopian palace.”
Lucas stepped away from the statue and looked at Jade. His face had reddened. Dr. Maskel’s theories were growing more and more wild. She was curious at the apprehension in Lucas’s eyes.
While Drs. Maskel and Shum were in conversation, Lucas said, “Let’s see the rest of the ruins. Then we can discuss these names over tea.”
She followed him out of the tent, noting the difference between the cool interior of the tent and the warmth the sunlight brought. “Let me show you the best-preserved obelisk out of the lot,” Lucas said loud enough for those inside the tent to hear. They walked over the rocky ground; at one point Jade’s toe caught, and she almost fell. Lucas grabbed her elbow and held it securely. He steered her toward a shady spot beneath a frankincense tree. “We need to leave as soon as possible. Remember when we talked about Tambariah on the plane?”
Jade wrinkled her brow, staring into his dark golden eyes that seemed to contend with the blue sky behind. Without looking through her notes, the discussion on the plane came to mind. “Tambariah was one of the names in the Jerusalem tomb.”
