Instead he nursed a glass of wine, a Roman vintage he had grown to love over the years, acquiring it whenever he could manage, all his contacts having standing orders to notify him immediately when new stock arrived on the shores of Egypt. But tonight it was merely a beverage, and brought no joy or pleasure, other than to dull the nerves slightly at what must be done.
Sounds from within, then voices, announced the arrival of his youngest brother and his wife who Tarik was certain had forced him into this. He looked at Jabari, who looked as pale as he felt, then rose with his brother to face their duty. Fadil rounded the corner, Dalila on his arm, both draped in the latest fashions, Dalila adorned with remarkable jewelry of which Tarik had to question how they could afford such luxury, the youngest brother’s position affording him only a small portion of the family fortune.
“What’s wrong, brothers?” asked Fadil as he saw their faces. “You both look as if you’ve seen Apep himself!”
Tarik pointed to two chairs, specially arranged for the two of them.
“Sit.”
Fadil chuckled, looking at Dalila. “Okay, but we are not beasts to be ordered around, brother.”
They both sat, and Tarik motioned for Jabari to bring the necklace. Jabari retrieved it from the table, and held it out for their two thieves to see as Tarik scrutinized them both.
Dalila gasped, immediately turning pale, her guilt obvious, but Fadil’s reaction had Tarik confused. His jaw dropped, and he paled in what Tarik could only describe as horror. He looked up at Jabari, then at Tarik.
“What are you doing with that?” he whispered. “Isn’t that the necklace you made for our beloved Pharaoh?”
Tarik nodded. “Indeed it is.”
“Then I ask again, what are you doing with it? This is sacrilege!”
Tarik glanced at Jabari, who appeared equally confused.
“You claim you don’t know how we have come into possession of this?”
“Of course not, only you can know how.”
“And your wife?”
“How could she possible know?” He looked at his wife who had turned away, gripping the back of her chair for support. “Dear, what is it?”
Dalila shook her head, it having dropped to her chest as she began to shake with sobs. Fadil was confused, looking between her and his brothers, then kneeling in front of her, taking her hands.
“What is it, my love, please tell me.”
“I-I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“For what? What could you possibly have to do with this?”
“It was me. I took it.”
Fadil gasped and fell backward, landing on his backside. Tarik’s eyes shot up as his jaw dropped, this turn of events completely unexpected, but at once welcome and unwelcome. It meant his beloved younger brother was innocent, but his wife, whom he loved as well, was guilty, with only one sentence permissible.
Tarik looked at Jabari and saw the conflicting emotions he too was experiencing written all over his face. Tears filled his eyes as a smile kept invading the expression of horror, and when realized, was wiped away just as quickly. Though they both were clearly elated their brother was innocent, the situation was still horrifying. A woman they both knew and loved, who was loved desperately by their young brother, had betrayed their most sacred laws.
“How did you come into possession of the necklace?” asked Tarik, his voice slightly gentler. “Did you buy it from someone?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Then how did you get it?” asked Fadil, still on the floor, having pushed himself to a sitting position, but apparently not trusting his legs to keep him afoot.
“I stole it.”
Fadil laughed, and even Tarik had to admit it sounded absurd. How could she have possibly stolen it? He looked at her, and she at him, and he could see immediately that she was serious.
“How?” he asked. “When?” It didn’t make any sense. If she stole it, then that meant she had entered the tomb, but the tomb was guarded by one of The Brotherhood at all times. He looked at his brother, Fadil, who had named their small organization The Brotherhood just last week, thinking it appropriate since it had been founded by three brothers, and now consisted of trusted men who were devout believers in the gods, and refused to abide by the false gods the Romans would have them worship. They were traditionalists, all of them, and The Brotherhood had sworn to protect the ancient artifacts, the ancient tombs, from those who would loot or destroy them.
The Brotherhood.
It sounded so lonely to him now, and as he looked at Dalila, he suddenly realized it was Fadil himself who had said women shouldn’t be allowed in the organization, as they couldn’t be trusted. Both Tarik and Jabari had thought the notion ridiculous, after all, the entire idea was inspired by wanting to protect their Queen’s final resting place.
He sighed, looking again at Dalila.
“Please explain it to us.”
She nodded, staring at her hands as they clasped and unclasped in her lap. “One night, a week ago, Fadil was guarding the tomb, and I went with him. My darling husband was tired, so I told him to sleep, told him that I would watch in his stead.” She looked at her husband, her eyes pleading with him to forgive her, but he could only stare at her in horror, his wide eyes and slightly open mouth revealing only the shock of betrayal.
“I was restless, so I went for a walk, then heard voices. I came upon two men coming out of a crevice. Too afraid to confront them, for I only had a dagger, I hid amongst the stones, then waited for them to leave, their horse loaded with goods. But—” Her voice faltered.
“But?” encouraged Tarik.
“But instead of getting my husband, my curiosity won out, and I slipped into the crevice they had emerged from, and followed the path. It opened into a large array of underground caves, carved out by the gods eons ago. I followed the footprints on the cave floor, and found they had dug a hole deeper inside. I climbed through and found our Pharaoh’s tomb. It had been ransacked”—all three brothers exchanged shocked looks at this statement—“and I immediately checked her sarcophagus. It had been pried open, but not completely. Apparently they planned on coming back. I remembered the necklace you, my sweet brother-in-law, had crafted with your own hands, and needed to know if it was still inside. I reached in, and felt it, but instead of leaving it, I for some reason pulled it off her body, and ran with it. I couldn’t help it! I don’t know why I did it, but I felt I had to have it! To possess it! It was something so much more beautiful than we could ever afford!”
“But you would never be able to wear it!”
“Oh, but I did! I wore it all the time when alone, and when I did, I felt like a queen.” Her voice had become full of life again, the Dalila they had all known and loved, revealed as the greedy, wealth obsessed desecrator she was.
“You knew I was improving our position, it would just take time,” cried Fadil, finally pushing himself to his feet. “You wanted for nothing. I gave you everything I could, including jewels I could barely afford, yet, yet—!”
He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence, instead spinning on his heel and walking away.
Tarik stepped forward as Jabari went to comfort their brother. “You must have realized the punishment if caught.”
She nodded, her pride once again in check as her eyes and chin lowered. “I did. I do.”
“Is the necklace all you took?”
She nodded.
“These two thieves, would you recognize them?”
She shook her head. “But they said they would be back tonight.”
Tarik felt his heart leap. “Are you certain?”
She nodded.
A chance at catching the thieves was almost unhoped for, but if they could not only protect the tomb from further desecration, and capture those responsible, they might be able to recover the goods stolen.
He heard the scrape of feet behind him, and he turned to see Jabari with Fadil under his arm, standing nearby.
>
“You will show us the entrance,” said Fadil to his wife, and she nodded. “Then we will deal with your treachery.”
He turned and walked toward the front of the house, leaving the rest on the veranda, his shoulders squared, then shaking as he rounded the corner, out of sight.
Tarik motioned for Dalila to stand, then looked at Jabari and pointed at a nearby basket.
“Take that, we’ll need it later.”
Jabari grimaced, but nodded. As he picked it up, the contents hissed, and Tarik felt the same shiver he was certain they all felt as he pictured what lay inside.
Justice.
Nubian Desert, Egypt, University College London Dig Site
Two Days Before the Liberty Island Attack
Acton stared up at the ring of light above his head as he dangled from what, he did not know, suspended an unknown distance above a surface below. And he slipped some more. He tried to calm his pounding heart, the roar in his ears deafening. As he focused on his breathing, he thanked God he was able to get Laura to safety. If he died now, at least he’d die knowing she was safe.
“Jim! Can you hear me?”
Acton’s heart leapt as he recognized Reading’s voice, and he wondered how long he had just hung on, ignoring calls from above in his panic. If he was able to get here from the camp, it had to be several minutes.
“Yes!” he yelled, but it was weak, his mouth dried from the sand he had swallowed while falling.
“James, it’s me, are you okay?”
Laura! Her voice renewed him with determination, his will to survive surging forth.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Are you? “Sort of. I’m hanging from something, I don’t know what. And I can’t see how far down the ground is!”
“We’re getting ropes and flashlights. Hang tight, you’ll be okay.”
As if to object to her statement, he felt himself begin to slip again.
“I’m slipping!”
He heard shouts, and talking above, but nothing he could make out, then suddenly he stopped sliding.
“Are you okay?” yelled Laura.
“I’ve stopped slipping. What happened?”
“It looks like you’re holding onto some sort of cloth. Canvas maybe. I think the stones were holding it in place, then when we started moving them, you fell through.”
Deliberate. Which made him think if it were, then what lay below may not be that far, and may be worth finding.
He felt his fingers slipping, and he wrapped himself tighter against the canvas, wondering how long his already shaking muscles might last before he’d be forced to let go.
More noise above had him looking at the circle of light he figured must be about ten feet above him, then a head blocked the light. “Tossing some glow sticks down now. Watch your head,” said Reading. Acton closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest. He heard something hit the ground below him, then another clicking sound and yet another.
“Okay, it’s safe. What do you see?”
Acton opened his eyes and laughed. He saw three glow sticks, sitting on the ground, about three inches from his heels. He let himself slide down the canvas and touch the floor, his pounding heart quickly beginning to calm as he stretched.
“I’m okay, I’m on the ground now. Can you lower a bucket with a flashlight and some water?”
“Coming right up!” he heard Reading yell, then orders being barked. He picked up one of the glow sticks and held it out in front of him, but it was useless, the eerie green glow merely revealing shadows. “Heads up!”
Acton looked up and saw a bucket being lowered and moments later it was on the ground beside him.
“Got it!”
He pulled out the flashlight and flicked it on, playing the beam about him, and gasped.
“You’re not going to believe what I’m looking at!” he yelled, his heart again pounding, but this time with excitement.
“What is it?” asked Laura.
Acton dropped to his knees as he played the beam across the stone wall in front of him.
“It’s the mother lode.”
Outskirts, Alexandria, Egypt
30 BC, Seven Weeks After Cleopatra’s Death
“There, just behind that outcropping.”
Dalila pointed with a shaking hand and Tarik held up the torch, lighting the way. At first he didn’t see it, merely more shadows, but as he neared, he began to see a deep shadow the light didn’t seem to penetrate. He stepped next to the shadow, and pushed the torch inside, followed by his head, and gasped. There was indeed a passageway, leading deeper into the cliff side.
“I found it!” he whispered. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned. It was Jabari.
“Wait, I hear something,” he said. They all froze, then Jabari stepped back, allowing Tarik to exit the crevice.
“What is it?”
Jabari shook his head, then pointed to where he had heard the sound. Tarik drew his dagger, as did Jabari, and they both rounded the outcropping, Tarik now hearing the sound. He couldn’t describe it over the pounding of his heart in his chest, his ears flooded with panic, but as he rounded the stone mass, he knew he had to calm himself for the battle he might be about to step into.
He regretted not bringing a sword.
Next time you come prepared!
It had been a mad rush in the dark of night to get here, all of them stunned by the revelation that Dalila was the desecrator, the betrayer of their trust. None had thought about what they were doing, instead rushing headlong here, and it wasn’t until their arrival that he remembered why they were here.
Dalila had said the thieves were returning tonight.
And that meant their weaponry was woefully inadequate.
They rounded the outcropping and he heard Jabari, in the lead, breathe a sigh of relief, and moments later Tarik saw why. It was a horse, munching quietly on a pile of hay left by its owner to keep it in place. The docile beast looked up at them, then returned to its feeding, unperturbed.
“They must be here,” said Dalila behind them.
Tarik nodded. “We must be careful. They may be better armed than us.”
Jabari pointed at the supplies loaded on the camel.
“Perhaps not.”
Draped over the back of the beast were several leather straps, bags attached, and two swords, tucked into their sheaths.
Tarik smiled.
“It would appear they aren’t expecting company.”
He stepped up to the animal, then lay a hand on its neck, patting it gently. “That’s it, you’ve nothing to fear from me. Your master sent me to get his swords, that’s all,” he whispered, soothing the unpredictable creature. He didn’t want to get in the way of a startled or panicked horse. Having been kicked by one when he was younger, he had learned his lesson well.
The animal continued to eat, and Tarik gripped the first sword, drawing it slowly, continuing to whisper to the animal. Successful, he handed the first weapon to Jabari, then slowly withdrew the second. With it freed, he stepped back and examined the weapon. It felt like a good weight, well balanced. A quality weapon. His brother had already decided he liked his, the smile he was displaying telling Tarik all he needed to know.
“Let’s hurry,” said Tarik. “Perhaps we can surprise them.” He quickly led them back to the crevice, and he stepped inside. It was tight, and after a few steps, he prayed it opened up soon, otherwise the mild claustrophobia he suffered from might kick in, and he’d need to be rescued.
He also decided then and there to lay off the dates. His stomach had been slowly expanding over the past few years, and if this was to now be his life, he would need to get himself trim again so he could fight if necessary, and squeeze into tight places should the need arise.
The torch whipped in his outstretched hand, and he saw the passage open up. He pushed himself the final few paces, then gasped in relief as he was able to breathe normally again, the cave he now found himself in large enough to easily fit a dozen men. He waited f
or the others as he caught his breath, and the tightness in his chest eased with the appearance of each torch, shedding additional light on the still enclosed space.
Fadil finally appeared with Dalila, and the hollowed out space was now well lit, though beginning to feel a bit cramped again. Tarik closed his eyes and took a deep breath, a comforting hand on his shoulder from Jabari helping ease his tension slightly.
“You okay?”
Tarik nodded at his brother’s voice, but didn’t open his eyes. “You know how I don’t like tight spaces.”
“It will soon be over,” said Jabari gently, and Tarik felt his brother turn to the others. “Which way?”
“Down here,” Tarik heard Dalila say as he opened his eyes.
“I will go first this time,” said Jabari, leading the way down another opening in the wall, Tarik following closely behind so he could keep an eye on his brother, or more accurately, his back, rather than the cave walls. He knew if his brother could fit, he most likely could as well, though his brother was blessed with a physique that put his own to shame, life on a farm much more active than that at a store designing jewelry on one’s backside.
Moments later they emerged into a massive hollow, the ceiling tall enough for the tallest ship’s mast to easily clear, the breadth wide enough for their torches to not reach the other wall.
Tarik smiled.
His tension eased, completely, and he stepped aside for Dalila and Fadil.
“Where now?” asked her husband.
Dalila pointed at the ground. “Follow the footprints. They will lead the way.”
“How far?”
“Not far, a couple of hundred paces maybe.”
Jabari continued to lead the way, his torch held out in front, but lower, his own head hunched over, as he followed the faint prints in the dusting of sand on the cave floor. Tarik followed, torch in his left hand, held up high, sword in the other. As they rounded a sharp bend, he saw something move in the shadows, then a glint of light reflecting off something, then his jaw dropped in horror as a form merged from the dark, charging at his brother, sword held high in the air.
The Arab Fall (A James Acton Thriller, Book #6) (James Acton Thrillers) Page 7
