The Last Priest

by Amy Cross

  “But you -” She paused, sensing a great deal of discomfort in his eyes. He'd changed his mind so quickly about the possibility of traps, she couldn't help but feel suspicious, as if he was using the fear in an attempt to control her. “Did you send me in here anyway?” she asked finally. “Was I like a sheep being driven across a minefield?”

  “Of course not,” he replied, looking down at the sarcophagus. “I can't believe I actually found this thing. Do you have any idea how many people have come looking for the tomb of Ah-Shalla? This is going to be bigger than Tutankhamen, and the -” He stopped suddenly as he turned and looked around at the various treasures and artifacts in the room. “It's here somewhere,” he continued finally. “We have to start sorting through every box, we have to find it.”

  “Find what?” she asked.

  He seemed lost in thought for a moment, before turning to her. “Anything of value. Or the...” He looked back down at the sarcophagus. “According to the legends, Ah-Shalla decreed that his greatest possessions were to be placed inside his burial casket. He entrusted that task to the last priest who was to be left behind in the tomb. The priest's job was to protect those possessions and then, once everyone else was dead, place them in the casket and seal them for all time.” Making his way around to the other side of the sarcophagus, he examined the far end for a moment before taking his hammer and chisel and starting to crack the lid open.

  “Hey!” Charley shouted, hurrying over and pushing him away. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Getting inside!”

  “You're damaging it!”

  “You can't carry out archeological work without causing some damage,” he pointed out.

  “Are you serious?” She stared at him for a moment, shocked by the words coming from his mouth. “Chris, it'll take years to analyze everything in here! You can't just start hacking away at these things, you need to set up a proper expedition with imaging equipment and -”

  “That could take decades!”

  “So? It's worth doing it properly!”

  “I'm the only person who's qualified to undertake this work,” he replied, clearly on the verge of losing his patience, “but they'll push me aside. The local idiots are going to insist on doing everything themselves, and the items in the casket will either be ignored or lost, or worse still they'll be sold on the black market. They won't understand what's really here!”

  “And what is really here?” she asked.

  He paused, as if he was unwilling to say the words.

  “What are you expecting to find in the sarcophagus?” she continued. “Chris, we're here, we've found the damn thing, so you might as well tell the truth.” She waited for an answer. After a moment, she realized that he seemed mesmerized by the sarcophagus, and she felt a shiver run through her body as she realized that she'd been the same a moment ago. She's imagined her father's voice, imagined his pride, and whereas that sensation had initially given her great pleasure, now she felt faintly nauseous. Her father was a rich, greedy man, and she hated the idea that she was even slightly like him. Looking around at the caskets and vases filled with riches, she felt as if hated the site of everything. Spotting the chest filled with gold coins, she carefully closed the lid.

  “Hey!” a voice shouted from the other side of the wall. “Are you guys in there?”

  “Duncan,” Chris whispered bitterly, as if he hated the idea of being interrupted.

  “Through here!” Charley called out.

  “Great,” Chris continued, “another one.”

  “We're on your side,” Charley pointed out, as she heard Duncan making his way through the hole in the wall. “We all want the same thing, remember? Or at least, I think we do. If there's something in this place that you're specifically looking for, why don't you tell us so we can help?”

  “Is this what I think it is?” Duncan asked as he made his way over to join them. “Holy shit, did you -”

  “It's mine,” Chris said suddenly, interrupting him.

  “Are you serious?” Charley asked.

  “You know what I mean,” he continued, clearly flustered. “I'm the head of the expedition, so it's my responsibility to take charge of the site.”

  “I can't believe we actually found it,” Duncan said, making his way around the sarcophagus. “After all the people who came looking, we're the ones who succeeded. This is the most amazing archaeological discovery for almost a hundred years!”

  “It could be even bigger than that,” Chris replied.

  “We're the first people to see this thing since it was sealed by the last priest a thousand years ago,” Duncan continued, running a hand across the sarcophagus. “Think about that for a moment. The last priest sealed this place off, waiting for the great Ah-Shalla to rise from the dead.” He paused. “I guess that part didn't come true, then. I mean, it sure doesn't look like Ah-Shalla did any rising.”

  “Chris wants to just break the casket open,” Charley told him.

  “Unconventional,” Duncan replied. “To the point.”

  “Maybe I was a little hasty,” Chris continued, “but I have to get into this thing before we leave. I know that might sound rash, but trust me, the whole point of this expedition hinges on us getting into the casket and...” He paused. “Just help me take a look. If I'm right about what's in this thing, we're going to make the most significant discovery in the modern era. If I'm wrong, we've still found the tomb of Ah-Shalla, which isn't a bad consolation prize.”

  “Tell us what you want us to do, man,” Duncan replied.

  “What about you, Charley?” Chris asked, turning to her. “Are you going to help with this?”

  She opened her mouth to ask more questions, before realizing that she was outnumbered. “Let's just go carefully,” she said finally, trying not to think about Henrik's warnings from earlier. The last thing she wanted was to be seen as superstitious. “While the rain continues, we're stuck here anyway. We've got time to do this properly, and with a little respect.”

  ***

  “Just a little further to go,” Chris said as he carefully tapped the chisel, loosening the resin that had been used long ago to seal the sarcophagus. “I'm almost through.”

  “Look at this,” Charley replied, kneeling next to one of the gold statues, which was in the form of some kind of bird. “I never used to think gold was much to look at, but these things are amazing.”

  “Remember not to touch anything,” Chris reminded her. “There's still a chance of traps. After what happened yesterday, I don't want to take any unnecessary risks.”

  “Think how much this stuff would fetch on the open market,” Duncan muttered. “We're talking billions of dollars.”

  “But it'll all go to museums, right?” Charley asked, turning to the others. “I mean, that's the whole point of the expedition, isn't it? We recover items for museums?”

  “If we can get them out of the country,” Duncan pointed out. “The local bureaucrats aren't going to like that.”

  “Can we get the paperwork sorted out?” she asked.

  “Paperwork doesn't mean much down here,” Duncan continued. “Anyone who sets eyes on these things is going to know what they're worth. I don't see how we can get them through customs without paying through the nose. Then again, I guess that's where your father comes in. Hopefully he can smooth the way.”

  “The gold isn't important,” Chris said suddenly, as he continued to work on the sarcophagus. “There's only one thing in this whole place that we're going to take away with us, and it's not something that any border agent or customs officer will even look at twice.”

  Duncan and Charley shared a concerned glance for a moment.

  “Okay,” Chris continued, setting the hammer and chisel aside. “I'm ready to open this thing.”

  “What about traps?” Charley asked.

  “On the casket?” he replied. “Are you serious? No chance. When the lid was put on, no-one would ever have believed that people would come this far. Be
sides, Ah-Shalla himself was supposed to rise up from his grave, so the guy should have pushed the lid aside himself. There'd definitely be no traps here.”

  “You seem to change your mind on those things a lot,” Charley muttered, as she and Duncan took their places at different spots around the edge of the sarcophagus.

  “We need to lift the lid off and set it down,” Chris replied. “It's going to be heavy, but I think the three of us should be able to manage, even if -”

  Charley waited for him to finish. “Even if one of us is a girl?” she asked finally.

  “I didn't say that.”

  “Let's just do it,” she replied, taking hold of her side. “Are you guys ready?”

  “On my count,” Chris said, as he and Duncan got into position. “Okay. One... Two...” He paused. “Three!”

  As they began to lift the lid, all three of them struggled with the weight, but they were finally able to inch it away and then lower it to the ground, although Chris lost his grip at the last moment, causing the lid to slip down and land heavily.

  “Everyone okay?” Duncan asked.

  “Just about,” Charley replied, rubbing her arm.

  “And there he is,” Chris said, shining his torch down into the sarcophagus. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the great Ah-Shalla, one of the most feared kings of all time, a man who commanded fear and respect across an entire empire. His cruelty was so renowned, some even doubted that he could have been real, but he was.”

  Stepping close, Charley looked down and saw that the light from Chris's torch was picking out a body in the sarcophagus, swathed in thick bandages. Some of the bandaged sections were torn, however, revealing sections of dried skin, including a number of shriveled toes poking out from the corpse's feet. She took a deep breath as she felt a tightening sensation in her chest.

  “Doesn't look like he did much waking up,” Duncan muttered with a faint, relieved smile. “Looks like he just lay here for a thousand years. Which, I guess, is pretty much what dead people are supposed to do.” He turned to Charley. “That last priest must have been pissed, huh? Turned out his boss wasn't coming back after all.”

  “We need to remove the bandages,” Chris said after a moment.

  “Why?” Charley asked.

  “We're looking for two small stone tablets,” he continued. “If I'm right, they were placed against his skin when he was mummified. The legend says he wanted them as close as possible, so that no-one else would be able to read them. Even his priests were ordered not to look at the tablets.”

  “Sounds melodramatic,” Duncan muttered. “I've never heard of stone tablets being buried with a body before.”

  “This one's different,” Chris explained, staring down at the bandaged corpse as the light from his torch picked out thick stains on the cloth. “These tablets, if they're what I think they are, could well be the most valuable items on the planet. It's said that Ah-Shalla gave very specific, very detailed instructions to his priest before he died. Even by the standards of the day, this was an unusual burial, but he was the king so he got what he wanted. Even in death, he was able to command men to lay down their lives for him.”

  “I'm uncomfortable with the idea of unwrapping him right here,” Charley replied. “We need to run tests, X-rays, we need to -”

  “There's no time for any of that,” Chris said firmly. “We have to get those tablets and then get out of here.”

  “We're starting to sound more and more like grave-robbers,” she pointed out.

  “Let's just do it,” Duncan replied. “The rain has to stop soon, so let's just do whatever we have to do, so we can leave as soon as we get the chance.” He glanced around at the various boxes that filled the room. “So how small do you think a diamond would have to be, for the customs people not to notice it? You know what, I think I'm going to go and check if I've got any suitable cases in my backpack.” With that, he turned and headed back toward the hole in the wall.

  Ignoring him, Chris reached into the casket and began to unwrap the body.

  Charley stood and watched, training her torch on Chris's hands as he worked. She hated the idea of disturbing the corpse in such a hurried, disrespectful way, but at the same time she couldn't deny that she was curious about the supposed stone tablets.

  “Have you done this before?” she asked cautiously.

  “I've seen it done.”

  “But how do you know you won't damage him?”

  “There's damage and then there's damage,” he replied, pulling a strip of bandage away before starting on another. “He'll be intact when I'm finished, and I'm going to be as careful as possible.” He glanced at her for a moment. “What's wrong? Are you worried I might wake him up?”

  “Of course not,” she replied, “but... I mean, you've got to admit that stories about the great Ah-Shalla are pretty formidable. He was convinced he held the power over life and death, and that he'd be able to return from the grave.”

  “People back then were convinced about a lot of crazy stuff,” Chris continued, pulling more bandages away until, finally, a strip of dried skin was visible around the body's neck area. “The mummification process was successful,” he explained, running a fingertip against the skin. “That wasn't always the case with these things, but the priests who worked for Ah-Shalla obviously knew what they were doing.”

  “So what exactly is on these stone tablets you're looking for?” she asked. “And how are you going to get them out of the country?”

  “You'll see in a minute,” he replied, “and I don't need to get them out. I just need to make copies and then destroy them.”

  “Destroy them? Why?”

  “So no-one else can find them. The knowledge on these tablets...” He peeled another strip of bandage away, to reveal the body's mummified face. “Charley. Say hello to the great Ah-Shalla.”

  Staring down at the face, Charley felt as if her stomach was slowly twisting around. Picked out by the light from her torch, Ah-Shalla's skin had shriveled, revealing his bare, discolored teeth, while his eye sockets were empty and most of his nose had been torn away, leaving nothing but two gaping cavities. At the top of his head, a few thin wisps of hair had, improbably, survived the thousand-year wait.

  “That's him,” Chris continued, his voice filled with awe. “This man was once the most feared man in South America. They say his name inspired abject horror for thousands of miles in every direction, and his lack of mercy was legendary. Anyone who slighted him, even by accident, was swiftly and summarily executed, usually by being disemboweled in front of him. He'd eat the remains of his enemies, so he could grow stronger. That was the theory, at least. They say the only thing Ah-Shalla ever feared was death, and even that was eventually conquered. If you believe some of the crazier stories, that is.”

  “Which I guess we don't,” Charley replied, still staring at the mummified face.

  “What's wrong? Are you still slightly worried that he might suddenly sit up and roar?”

  “No,” she replied, although in the back of her mind she couldn't shake Henrik's warnings from earlier. “I just... Where exactly do you think you're going to find these tablets?”

  “I was hoping they'd be clasped in his hands,” Chris replied, as he pulled more bandages away to reveal Ah-Shalla's withered hands folded across his chest, “but the other possibility is that they're under the small of his back.” He ripped off a couple of other bandages, pulling some from under the body. “Okay, Charley, I need you to do something for me. I'm going to lift him up -”

  “You can't do that,” she told him.

  “Charley -”

  “You're going to damage him!” she pointed out. “We have to preserve the body!”

  “I'm going to lift him up,” he said firmly, “and you're going to reach under and take out the two stone tablets.”

  She shook her head.

  “You are,” he replied, reaching down and putting his hands under the corpse's shoulders and waist. “The quicker yo
u are, the less damage I'll cause, so just get on with it.” He took a moment to adjust his grip, before slowly starting to lift the body, which immediately creaked as its bones began to shift for the first time in more than a thousand years.

  Taking a step back, Charley watched in horror as the mummy's head tilted back. Chris lifted him a little higher, causing a slow cracking sound to come from the body's chest.

  “Do you see anything?” he asked.

  “I...” Peering under the body, she saw nothing but trailing bandages. Although she hated the idea of getting too close, she leaned into the sarcophagus and shone her torch down into the depths ,while reaching in with one hand and fumbling for any sign of the tablets.

  “Well?” Chris asked, still holding the body.

  “Nothing.”

  “Keep looking. They have to be here.”

  “They're not!”

  “They have to be!”

  Sighing, she felt the small of the mummy's back, but there were still no stone tablets.

  “They're here,” Chris said firmly.

  “I'm sorry, they're not. I can't juts -”

  Before she could finish, the mummy's head fell loose, dropping down into the sarcophagus and smashing into a pile of dust and bone. Letting go of the rest of the body, Chris let it drop down and break.

  “Well,” he said after a moment, as a cloud of dust filled the air, “if they're not in the sarcophagus, where the hell are they?”

  “Maybe they were never here,” she pointed out. “Maybe they never existed.”

  “They're real,” he replied, staring down at the corpse in disbelief. “I've carried out too much research to be wrong.”

  “What exactly are they?” she asked.

  “I'll tell you when I've -”

  “No, tell me now!” she replied. “Chris, every time one of us asks, you find some way to avoid answering. What's on these tablets?”

  “You know the kind of thing your father is interested in financing,” he continued. “He poured more than ten million pounds into this expedition. What do you think is on them?”