The Scepter

by Tom Hunter

  Twenty-Seven

  The roar of a VTOL zooming overhead split the air, but the team were too focused on what was waiting for them underneath the stele to care.

  “Shall we just climb down the ladders?” asked Basile. “I don’t mind going down a few rungs, and see if I can see if there’s anything out of the ordinary in its construction.”

  “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” replied Samuel, peering once more at the ladder. “Maybe it’d be better to wait until daylight. That way we might be able to get a better look at the first few feet of the tunnel.”

  “Yeah, us and all the tourists who will want to know what’s so fascinating,” pointed out Josh. “Much as I hate the idea of descending into the depths in pitch black darkness, if we leave it too long, we risk drawing attention to ourselves. You never know–there might be an agent of the Bruard posted in the area. They always seem to be right in the heart of the action. After all, they knew about the cave. Who’s to say they haven’t learned that Meroe is a site of significant interest as well, even if they don’t know exactly what’s here?”

  “That’s a very good point,” Samuel agreed. “What do you think, Shafira?”

  Shafira didn’t get a chance to give her opinion, as the swish of a sound being drawn from its scabbard interrupted their discussion.

  “What’s going on, Abdul?” asked Samuel, turning to see the High Marshal brandishing a wicked blade at them. “I thought we were on the same side.”

  “My duty and obligations will always belong to a higher power,” Abdul told him sternly. “Much as I appreciate your hard work in discovering the secret and opening the stele, I can’t in good faith allow you to proceed with removing the scepter.”

  “We talked about this,” Samuel reminded him. “You agreed that we were sent by Fatima and that it was important for us to follow her instructions. If you stop us completing our mission, you’re going against your leader herself.”

  “As High Marshal, I’m trusted to use my own initiative,” Abdul countered. “Fatima will understand that there has been a change in circumstance. As such, I have to follow my own instincts. It is clear that the Bruard are fully aware of the scepter’s existence. They are a threat, not only to the Order, but also to the world at large. My cell will have to do what the original Knights did. We will recover the scepter ourselves and move it elsewhere, somewhere no one will be able to find. You are not part of the Order. You are not worthy to know where the scepter is being kept, let alone gaze upon its wonder.”

  “Why you-” snarled Josh, surging forward. Abdul swung round to point the sword at him, nearly impaling Josh on its blade.

  “Uh-uh-uh!” he cautioned. “Do not think that I will hesitate to run you through. Don’t make me do something you’ll regret. Consider yourselves privileged that I allowed you to progress this far. You have seen the entrance to the secret chamber beneath the stele. No one has seen this opened since the last warrior died. Let that content your archaeological curiosity. You will see no more of the catacombs.”

  “But we’ve proven ourselves worthy time and again,” Samuel told him. “Look in your heart, and you’ll know that the only sensible course of action is to let us take the scepter. Your leader trusted us to take over the safety of the remaining relics. She knows more about what’s going on than any of us. Surely you must trust that she’s doing the right thing?”

  “Our leader?” Abdul laughed bitterly. “You mean the leader that you failed by allowing her to be captured? I do not believe for a second that she would agree to give herself over to the Bruard. She knows too much to risk it. The fact that you are standing before me, able to tell this tale is proof in and of itself that you are not worthy. My cell are devoted to the cause at all costs. I would have given my life before I allowed anyone to kidnap Fatima.”

  “Be reasonable, man!” urged Basile. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see what happened. Fatima herself unlocked the doors to our car so that the Bruard could take her. She made her decision and we respected it. The best way of honoring her sacrifice is to recognize that she had a plan, a purpose to doing what she did. She trusted us with the location of the scepter. We would never have come to Meroe if she hadn’t have pointed us in the right direction. Does that mean nothing to you?”

  “Do not presume to tell me that you know better than I when it comes to honoring our leader.” Abdul’s voice was icy. “I was willing to let you walk away, but I am now beginning to question whether that would be sensible. If you are so keen to see what lies beneath the stele, perhaps it should become your tomb. Your souls will have all of eternity to explore the catacombs. Now who wants to die first?”

  He raised the sword to impale Josh, but Samuel stepped in front of him.

  “You must know that the Knights are a first line of defense, not the last, right?” he asked.

  Abdul frowned. “What do you mean? What are you talking about?” He lowered the sword a little, but still kept it pointing towards Samuel.

  “Even a cursory knowledge of the history of the Knights reveals layer upon layer of secrets,” Samuel reminded him. “You don’t seriously believe that the Knights are the sole protectors of St. Augustine’s secret, all that stands between his legacy and its abuse?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Abdul’s manner lost some of its bluster as he considered what Samuel was saying.

  Sensing that he was gaining an advantage, Samuel continued. “I have some secret orders from Fatima that will explain it all in further detail. If you come closer, I’ll share them with you–but only you. Fatima didn’t want this to fall into the wrong hands. Not even my team knows what I’m about to tell you.”

  He stepped away from the stele, gesturing with his head for Abdul to follow as he reached into his pocket.

  Abdul lowered his sword arm as he moved towards Samuel, curious.

  Suddenly, Samuel dropped his pretense and grappled with Abdul for the sword. Caught unawares, Abdul was unprepared for the attack, as Samuel twisted his wrist, forcing him to loosen his grip. Deftly, Samuel snatched the sword out of his hands, grabbing Abdul’s shoulder to pull him in front of him.

  The fight was over in an instant, too quick for the surrounding Knights to do anything to help their High Marshal. They unsheathed their swords, circling Samuel, who backed up against the stele. He pressed the edge of the sword blade against Abdul’s throat, indenting the flesh just short of drawing blood.

  “Stay back!” he warned the Knights. “My team, come and stand with me.” Nervously, Basile, Shafira and the others gathered around Samuel, gaining comfort from close proximity to each other. Josh and Akhenaton clenched and unclenched their fists, willing to fight the Knights if it came to it.

  “Now, all I want to do is talk,” Samuel went on. “Nobody needs to get hurt here. This has all gone too far. If I talk, will you listen?”

  “Do as he says,” Abdul instructed, as the Knights wavered, unsure of what to do.

  “I am a trusted servant of the Knights of the Spring Dream sent on a sacred quest by the leader of your Order,” Samuel announced. “I demand the respect that that confers.”

  “Prove it!” shouted one of the Knights.

  “The very fact that I am standing outside the opened stele should be proof enough,” Samuel pointed out. “However, I was telling the truth when I said that I had secret orders. It would seem that Fatima knew that you would doubt the veracity of our claims, so she entrusted me with a number of documents to help us on our mission. I will be more than happy to give you the jump drive containing those documents so you can see her own words for yourself. You just have to allow us to take the scepter with us, as Fatima wanted.”

  “Where is this jump drive?” asked the Knight.

  “Josh, if you would be so kind.”

  Samuel lifted up his elbow, keeping the sword blade tight against Abdul’s neck, as Josh pulled aside his jacket to retrieve the jump drive from the pocket. He then stepped forward, holding t
he drive out at arm’s length for the Knight to take.

  “You’ll need a cell phone to access the documents,” Samuel advised. “They’re password protected as well.”

  One of the Knights took out a cell phone and attached it to the cable dangling from the jump drive. Samuel talked the Knight through opening the files Fatima had given him, giving him the password to access everything.

  As the man scrolled through the documents, he looked at Samuel in awe.

  “You’re telling the truth,” he said. “High Marshal Abdul, we must assist this man in any way we can. The leader herself has deemed it so.”

  Samuel took the blade away from Abdul’s neck and let him join his men to read the documents. As he saw the very specific Arabic phrase Fatima had included, Abdul knew that he had to respect her wishes.

  “I’m sorry.” He bowed on one knee before Samuel. “You must forgive me. We have encountered too many liars, thieves, and allies of desperation over the years to be able to accept you were who you claimed. You are right. Fatima planned all of this. She wants you to recover the scepter for us.”

  He stood up again and motioned to his men. “Stand down, all of you!” he called. “And fetch lanterns and more supplies. They have a long way to travel in the darkness to fulfil our leader’s request.”

  Samuel and Akhenaton exchanged a relieved grin, as the Knights hurried to fetch the extra equipment they’d need to find the artifact.

  Twenty-Eight

  “How long does this ladder go on for?” complained Basile as he climbed down into the catacombs beneath the stele. “I feel like my arms are about to drop off!”

  “It goes on forever!” deadpanned Josh. “It only stops when it reaches Australia.”

  “Jeepers, you guys,” groaned Waleed. “I just climbed to the top of the stele and back again and you’re all complaining about going down a tiny little ladder?”

  “It’s not that tiny,” grumbled Basile, as he finally reached the bottom, where Samuel and Akhenaton were already waiting for him. The only light they had was from Samuel’s cell, casting an eerie glow in the cramped tunnel. He kept it focused on the ladder so that the others could climb down safely, but when he’d first arrived at the bottom, he’d briefly shone it up and down the corridor. He hadn’t been able to see anything to suggest there were traps ahead, but he was going to proceed with care, just in case. Abdul’s talk of deadly traps had left its mark.

  Soon, all six of the party were gathered together, ready to work their way through the labyrinth to recover the scepter.

  “Is it just me,” asked Waleed. “Or does anyone else think there could be a mummy lurking in the darkness, ready to POUNCE?!” He suddenly lunged at Shafira, grabbing her shoulders.

  She screamed with fright at the unexpected attack in the darkness. “Wa-leed!” she scolded. “Don’t do that!”

  “Are you all okay?” called down Abdul from the top of the ladder.

  “Apart from the people who think this is an episode of Scooby Doo, we’re fine,” Samuel yelled back, wondering if the Knights had ever come across the show.

  Abdul’s head appeared in the doorway, silhouetted against the night sky.

  “Hold tight! I’m sending down some supplies!”

  Samuel could vaguely make out the outline of a basket being lowered down on a rope. He reached up to grab it as it drew closer, pulling out flashlights, headlights, dry rations, and a few other items Abdul thought might be useful.

  “Good luck to you all!” Abdul waved his goodbyes. “I promise you my Knights will keep watch for any trouble. If the Bruard are anywhere near, we’ll make sure they don’t discover your position. Godspeed and God bless.”

  Samuel passed out the flashlights, as Abdul closed the door into the stele, shutting them off from the outside world. They all switched their lights on, bringing a sudden brilliance to the brick chamber they were standing in.

  “It’s empty,” remarked Shafira, disappointed.

  “Don’t worry,” Samuel reassured her. “I wouldn’t expect to find anything exciting in the entrance hall. It’ll be kept deliberately bland in a last-ditch attempt to deter looters.” He shone his flashlight all around the room. “Looks like there’s only one way out here, so let’s go down that corridor. Basile, could you walk at the front with me? Out of all of us, you’re the one who’s most likely to spot any hidden trap mechanisms.”

  “Bien sur.” Basile came up to walk alongside Samuel. They made their way in silence down the winding corridor. As they descended further and further into the depths of the catacombs, the blank bricks slowly gave way to decorated stucco, with increasingly complex designs. A simple flower within a cloud, the symbol of the Knights of the Spring Dream, could be frequently seen, in among other repeating patterns, echoing what could still be made out on the stele, far above.

  They turned a corner to be confronted with stunning murals, with intricate details and surprisingly bright colors. An eerie illumination from some unseen source lit them up so that the effect was almost as if they’d walked into a sun-filled room.

  “Oh my,” breathed Shafira.

  “It’s beautiful,” nodded Basile. “What’s going on in the image?”

  Samuel shone his flashlight at the mural as he examined the iconography.

  “It appears to be the sacking of Hippo Regius,” he said, pointing excitedly. “You can see the hordes approaching over here. Meanwhile, this figure here is highlighted in a gold light, yet dressed in humble clothing, suggesting that he’s receiving blessings from the Heavens. Presumably, he’s St. Augustine. These smaller figures over here and here, are carrying items away. I think…” He leaned closer to get a better look. “Yes, that looks like the papal cap in his arms, while that one is carrying the scepter.” Samuel looked round at his teammates. “We’re definitely on the right track,” he told them. “This is a clear indication that we’re in the vicinity of the artifacts we’re looking for.”

  “Yes, this is very similar in style to the murals we saw in the cave,” Basile agreed. “If the same artist didn’t create them, there was at least the same artist behind their designs.”

  “I’m not being funny, but can we get a move on?” asked Josh. “This place gives me the creeps. The sooner we can find that scepter and get out of here, the better.”

  “Afraid that there really are mummies in these corridors?” joked Waleed, as they carried on walking.

  “I’m more concerned about pit traps and cave-ins, actually,” Josh snapped. “After all, from what Samuel told us about his explorations of the original cave, there were plenty of traps there. There’s no need to be afraid of the mystical when there’s a very real threat of death from perfectly natural means.”

  It was hard to tell in the artificial light, but it seemed as though Waleed paled at the thought of being buried alive.

  Further down the corridor, they could see that there was a T-junction ahead. Painted on the wall opposite them was a larger than life-sized picture. It detailed a man seated upon a high throne. He was supervising the construction of an obelisk identical to the one they were under, implying that it was a depiction of the same building. However, unlike the stele, which was worn and nondescript, this obelisk was brand new. Whereas few carvings remained on the stele outside, the walls in the painting were covered with moon-themed iconography, creating a design that was both beautiful and disturbing.

  Samuel was the first to reach the mural. As he drew near, he had a momentary flash of insight, a weird feeling that he had had an important thought, but now it was out of reach. He couldn’t shake the sensation that he’d stood in front of this very painting before, that he’d been in this exact same spot in the past.

  “Hold up, you guys.” He held up a hand to signal the others to stay still. He continued to examine the painting as the feelings intensified. He felt as though he could almost hear the cracking of whips in the image as slave drivers forced their charges to work harder. Sand gathered between his toes, the scratch
y irritation making his feet tense and relax to get comfortable.

  “That’s not good,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head to clear it. He dragged his gaze away from the mural, and saw that the others were equally mesmerised by the painting.

  “Hey!” he called, but everyone ignored him.

  “HEY!” he shouted louder, clapping his hands to break the spell. “Is it just me, or is there something strange going on here? Am I the only one who feels like they’ve been here before?”

  The other five looked at him, and each other.

  “It’s weird, but yes,” Shafira admitted. “It’s like I’ve walked down these corridors, maybe in my dreams. There’s something strangely familiar about this place.”

  “It’s impossible because I’ve never even been to Meroe,” Josh added. “But yeah. I’ve got the same feeling. I definitely recognize these tunnels, even though this is the first time I’ve walked down them.”

  “This is crazy!” laughed Basile. “We must be getting confused with the tomb we found in Egypt.”

  “We?” Akhenaton frowned at the Freudian slip. “So you agree that you’re experiencing the same thing as the rest of us?”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Shafira argued. “I didn’t go anywhere near the cave. And it’s not as though you’d all get exactly the same response to this place.”

  “So what is it then?” asked Basile. “Do you have any better idea to explain what’s going on?”

  “I might,” put in Samuel. “Do you remember reading about St. Augustine’s theory about Pythagoras and how his concept of death souls was wrong? I’m wondering if this is a sign that we’re getting close to the relic, close enough for it to work its magic on us.”

  Shafira shivered, even though it wasn’t cold.

  “If the scepter is affecting us like this when we’re not anywhere near a treasure room yet, what will it be like when we find it?” asked Josh.

  “I don’t know,” replied Samuel grimly. “But time is of the essence, so I guess we’d better go and see.”