Stone

by Linda Mooney

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Disclaimer

  Chapter 1 - Treachery

  Chapter 2 - Absolution

  Chapter 3 - Excavation

  Chapter 4 - Request

  Chapter 5 - Awakened

  Chapter 6 - Artifact

  Chapter 7 - Arrival

  Chapter 8 - Decision

  Chapter 9 - Discovery

  Chapter 10 - Confrontation

  Chapter 11 - Contact

  Chapter 12 - Struggle

  Chapter 13 - Interpretation

  Chapter 14 - Examination

  Chapter 15 - Interrogation

  Chapter 16 - Breakfast

  Chapter 17 - Findings

  Chapter 18 - Humanity

  Chapter 19 - Acceptance

  Chapter 20 - Search

  Chapter 21 - Broken

  Chapter 22 - Evidence

  Chapter 23 - Return

  Chapter 24 - Crumbling

  Chapter 25 - Reveal

  Chapter 26 - Wish

  Chapter 27 - Dream

  Chapter 28 - Prayer

  Chapter 29 - Saturday

  Chapter 30 - Ambush

  Chapter 31 - Complicity

  Chapter 32 – Deportation

  Chapter 33 - Transfer

  Chapter 34 - Tongue

  About the Author

  Other Romances by Linda Mooney

  STONE

  By

  Linda Mooney

  STONE

  Copyright © 2017 by Linda Mooney

  ISBN 978-1-941321-45-4

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  Editor: Chelly Peeler

  Cover Art: Linda Mooney

  Chapter 1

  Treachery

  The message was terse. We have been found out. Come quickly.

  Signaling for three of his soldiers to accompany him, Garenth hurried into the temple, passing the guards who saluted him and his entourage with barely a second glance. He didn’t have much time before his troops were to leave the city, but Hanashep’s note had been urgent, begging him to come see her before he departed.

  Dread filled him as they marched through the vast halls. Their footsteps echoed eerily in the dimly-lit passageways. When they reached the inner chamber, they stopped, and Garenth motioned for them to remain where they were. “I will not be long.” He glanced at each of them to make sure they understood the command. Satisfied, he opened the large ornate door and went inside.

  The room was empty.

  He hesitated, wondering if he should call out her name. Without warning, the heavy wooden door slammed open, and several armed guards came swarming in. Garenth’s three men were escorted inside and shoved toward their leader. Another half-dozen men rushed into the room, surrounding them before anyone had the chance to bolt for freedom. Garenth watched warily as he and his handful of comrades were huddled into a small knot within the ring of spears. No one moved. No one dared take a wrong step or utter a word—not so long as cold metal was aimed at their throats.

  “Drop your weapons,” he was ordered. Realizing he had no choice, Garenth pulled his knife and sword and threw them on the floor.

  Heavy footfalls echoed outside in the hallway. He recognized the pounding tread before the man swept into the room.

  Serasin was a tall, thin man. He had a deceptively youthful appearance, but the truth challenged that belief. It was said he was closer to a century of years, and there were many elderly men who would swear to the fact that the vizier looked the same back when they were young.

  A wide smile cracked the vizier’s face in two. His bald head and nearly skeletal facial features were ghastly to behold.

  “Ah, Garenth. I have long awaited this moment.”

  “For what reason?” Although he knew well why the man was out to get him, he also knew they were equal in importance to the liege.

  “Aside from the fact that you have been bedding one of my concubines?”

  “I haven’t bedded her. She is a friend. Nothing else.”

  The vizier scratched his cheek and snickered. “And you expect me to believe that?” The man waved a dismissive hand. “Regardless, that is not why I am putting you under arrest.”

  Garenth gave him a curious stare. Serasin had been trying for months to usurp his authority. To bring him down in the eyes of the pharaoh. Judging by the vizier’s attitude, it appeared the man may have concocted a scheme to finally achieve that goal. Taking a deep breath, he gazed defiantly at the man. “You have nothing to charge against me.”

  “I don’t? You do know that fornicating with one of my consorts is grounds enough to have you arrested.”

  “And I tell you we weren’t lovers.”

  Serasin gave him a wide smile. A toothy, sickening grin that set Garenth’s own teeth on edge. “I also have proof that you and your men were planning to overthrow the pharaoh.”

  “Lies! You have no proof!” Garenth struggled against the hands that held him. “You’ve concocted lies! All lies! I have pledged my life to his holiness!”

  “I have all the proof I need,” Serasin countered. “I have the word of your little whore. She confessed to your numerous liaisons, and to your conspiracy against his holiness, which you so lavishly explained in detail to her during one of your illicit meetings.”

  With that simple threat, Garenth knew the man had tortured Hanashep until she was forced to make a confession. A confession that was totally bogus, but one that the vizier would take to their ruler as proof of Garenth’s duplicity.

  Serasin didn’t want Garenth stripped of his rank in the pharaoh’s army. He wanted him dead and permanently out of the way.

  A stream of biting cold flooded his bloodstream. The man’s tone spoke of an evil Garenth could not imagine. “Where is she? What have you done to her?”

  “She is no longer your concern.”

  That could only mean she was dead. He’d expected as much, but hearing the vizier’s confirmation was still a hard blow to the gut.

  Garenth fought to remain standing, fists clenched at his sides, as his leather armor was stripped away. “You will not win, Serasin. Somehow, someway, the gods will punish you for your deception. If not now, then in the afterlife.”

  The man harrumphed. “You disappoint me, Commander. I had expected you to promise my demise at your own hands.”

  Garenth managed a similar smile to match the vizier’s. “Come now, Serasin. A trained military officer does not divulge his battle plans to the enemy. But you have my word, you will be punished.”

  Without warning, he lunged for the man. His actions took his captors off guard, enabling him the precious split-second he needed to get his hands around the vizier’s throat. He was about to snap the man’s neck when he was struck violently across the back of his head. Garenth dropped to his knees, stunned, as blood trickled warmly down the back of his neck.

  “Give up, Commander. You will never succeed.” The vizier’s voice was hoarse, but it was strong enough to convey the man’s condescension.

  Garenth peered up
at him through slitted eyes. “This may detain me for a bit,” he told the man, teeth gritted to keep from snarling his anger, “But it will not keep me from trying again. And again, and again, for however long it may take me to finally bring you down, Serasin.”

  The vizier templed his fingers below his chin as he stared back. It was clear the man was delighted to see the soldier who had been seeking to topple him from his austere position for the past three years. Delighted now to have the man in his grasp, knowing he would never be free again to continue pursuing him.

  “It seems that as long as you have been hunting me down, Garenth, I have been equally diligent to get you to myself.” The man cocked his head and grinned again. “But not for the same outcome.”

  He gave a little wave of one bejeweled hand. Garenth’s fellow guards were dragged away, leaving him and the vizier alone except for two other magistrates standing just behind the robed figure, and the two guards waiting to usher him out of the room.

  “Any final words, Commander, before you are brought before his holiness and condemned to death?”

  “Only what I said before. This isn’t over, Serasin, and it won’t be until I get my revenge.”

  The next instant, the world exploded in agony and darkness when the pommel of a sword came down on top of his head.

  Chapter 2

  Absolution

  Minbar kept her head held aloft and her expression stern as she ventured into the chamber depths where the enemies of the pharaoh were kept. No guards challenged her being there. The marks on the older woman’s face identified her as a priestess, and none of them were willing to intercept her or order her out. To do so would incur the wrath of the gods upon them and their families.

  The corridor was sparsely lit. The sputtering reed torches did little to dispel the gloominess. Nor could they cover the stench that fogged the air.

  She finally came to a halt inside a small antechamber where two soldiers were working. One sat behind a small table. The other sat on a stool. Both men were talking when she entered, but went silent as she approached them. She also noted they did not get to their feet, an honor which she was due.

  “I am here to see Garenth bin Al-Emin.” She kept her tone hard and demanding.

  “We have orders that he is to see no one,” the man on the stool remarked almost condescendingly. Apparently they believed their pharaoh’s orders preempted those of a god. Well, she knew how to get around that obstacle.

  She gave them her best threatening glare. “I am Minbar, Priestess of the Temple of Montu. Give me your names so that I may tell my god of your disobedience to one of his acolytes.”

  A feeling of satisfaction went through her as the men’s faces went white, and they hastily stood. The last thing they wanted was to anger the god of war.

  One bowed his head at her. “Forgive us, Priestess. The lack of adequate light prevented us from recognizing you.”

  It was a brazen lie, but she let it go…for now.

  “The gods have sent me,” she informed them. She didn’t tell them why she’d been sent. It was none of their business, anyway, and they couldn’t force her to reveal that information. Although it was not unusual for a religious follower to seek out the condemned prior to the prisoner’s death, it was rare for a woman of such stature to come below with a request.

  The man behind the table scanned her from head to toe. “Are you armed?”

  “Of course I’m armed.” She showed him the blade she kept tucked in her narrow belt. Knowing he would ask for it prior to her going to visit the prisoner, she withdrew it and handed it over.

  The man thanked her and gave a nod to his assistant, who motioned to her. “This way, Priestess.”

  He grabbed a torch from its sconce and led her down an adjacent tunnel. Here, the putrid smell was thicker and more cloying, a morass of excrement, urine, and blood. The only thing missing was the rot of dead flesh, which she knew she wouldn’t find. Once a soul was cast from the body and claimed by the gods, the vessel had to be removed immediately.

  They reached a rush-covered doorway where the soldier stopped. “He’s in here.”

  She took the torch from his hand without asking. “Good. Now leave us.”

  “Priestess…” The man started to object, but she quelled it with another disapproving look.

  “I said leave us. I am to deliver the gods’ message to his ears alone.”

  “How long will you need—”

  “I will return when I am done,” she curtly remarked, cutting him off.

  The soldier hesitated, thought better of it, and bowed. Not saying anything further, he left.

  Minbar took a deep breath through her mouth. This was her first and hopefully last excursion into the pharaoh’s den of horrors. Reaching out, she drew the reed door to the side and went inside.

  The man she sought was chained to a large slab of rock, as she’d expected. Still, to see the kind of torture that had been inflicted upon him was sickening. Unable to take any more, she leaned against the wall and vomited. When she was done, she spit and wiped her mouth with the hem of her robe. Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed the man had not moved. Afraid she may be too late, she hurried over to the still body. His bloodied chest barely moved, but it was enough to reassure her he was still alive.

  Setting the torch on the ground, she perched on the edge of the rock and placed a hand to the side of the man’s face. Gently turning it toward her, she stared at the bruised and swollen features. This man had been beaten almost to the point of death, then left alone in his suffering until it was time to inter him.

  Alive.

  “Garenth bin Al-Emin.”

  The man didn’t respond.

  Pulling the vial from where it nestled between her breasts, she uncapped it. Prying open his mouth took no effort. Making sure he would swallow the liquid, she poured a little on his tongue. His body reacted, automatically swallowing the draught. She gave him a bit more, which he also downed.

  A blackened eyelid opened to stare up at her. She smiled.

  “There is a small amount left. You must drink it.”

  He didn’t argue or try to pull away from her. She guessed he was far too weak to do either.

  Once she’d emptied the vial, she recapped it and pressed it into his palm, curling his fingers around it. “I am Minbar. Hanashep was my niece.”

  The man’s expression never wavered, but she could sense his sadness. He’d understood her referring to the young woman in the past tense.

  “You are wondering why I am here, correct? And how I was able to reach you. I do not know if Hanashep mentioned me. I am a Priestess of the Temple of Montu. She told me much about you. About how you have been a good and trusted friend. How you helped her when she was most in need.

  “When Hanashep disappeared, I knew Serasin had to be behind it. I eventually was able to discover what had happened to her. I also found out she had been forced to give false testimony against you so that Serasin could have you arrested for treason against the pharaoh.”

  She ran her fingertips over the man’s brow. “I prayed to Montu. I beseeched the god to save you because you have served him faithfully all these years, and he answered. He told me to pray to Petbe. So I went over to the temple of the god of revenge and prayed. I burnt offerings to him and explained Serasin’s treachery. And Petbe answered. He told me to make this draught and to bring it to you. He showed me how to make the vial in the image of his mother, Oka, in which to put the draught. He gave his blessings, and I have brought them to you.”

  Minbar ran a soothing hand over his face, taking great care not to cause him any further pain or discomfort. “You can already feel it working, can’t you?”

  The single eye blinked in answer.

  “You will not die by Serasin’s hand. You will live. Petbe told me you will take on a form of stone that will endure for thousands of years.” Leaning closer, she added in a very strict voice, “As long as you retain possession of the vial I’ve placed i
n your hand, you will live. Do you understand?”

  She may have imagined it, but she thought she saw his fist tighten slightly. He also blinked in acknowledgement. Already she could see a transformation coming over his countenance. His jaw was beginning to protrude as his forehead took on a noticeable slope. The fingers of the hand grasping the vial were thickening, the tips growing into thick, claw-like nails. At the same time, the man’s body altered, growing bulkier as the muscles in his arms and legs became thicker.

  Minbar smiled. “I give praises to Petbe. You are changing. Can you feel it?”

  A small, almost tremulous smile lifted the corners of his widening mouth. She noticed the elongation of his lower teeth, until they jutted upward from his jaw, giving him an almost demonic appearance.

  Getting to her feet, she backed away from him. The man continued to grow, to change. At one point he flexed his arms, and the strain on his shackles broke them from his wrists and ankles. Slowly, he managed to sit up, and a pair of leathery wings sprouted from his shoulder blades, surprising him.

  Garenth stared at her. “What is happening to me?” His voice was grating, like metal on stone.

  “Petbe has given you his blessings. He has found you and your cause worthy. Rejoice, Garenth bin Al-Emin. You will have your moment to avenge the evil done to you, and the death of my beloved niece. Promise me you will seek both.”

  An enormous hand reached out to touch her cheek with a feather-light caress. “I will make you and Petbe proud,” he promised.

  Chapter 3