Lydia’s eyebrows rose. ‘He could talk to birds?’
‘Solomon could do a lot of things, if you believe the legends,’ said Nina, amused. ‘He could summon and control demons, fly on a magical throne, talk to animals – all this and the whole “being the wisest man in the world” thing too.’
Ziff made an impatient sound, then continued. ‘Solomon spoke to the eagles until he found the oldest, who remembered an entrance now buried by sand. So Solomon’s men dug, and found the way in.’
‘I didn’t see any eagles on the model,’ said Nina. ‘Or sand.’
‘We will have to examine it in detail. But there is more in the text.’ He went back to the wall. ‘The power Solomon built the palace to contain is named here. He calls it Imashamir . . . “the Mother of the Shamir”.’
‘The Shamir?’ she echoed, startled. ‘The stone he supposedly used to build the First Temple?’
‘Nina,’ Fisher said quietly from behind the camera, ‘explanation for the rubes?’
‘The Shamir is . . . well, it’s hard to describe,’ Nina said. ‘It’s either a green stone or a living creature, like a worm, depending on how you interpret the stories. Either way, it was kept in a lead box that was only opened when it was needed, because its gaze could split stone and shatter metal.’ The crew’s impressed reactions told her that was exactly the kind of juicy legend they wanted to hear.
‘It was given to Solomon by God,’ Ziff went on, bowing his head slightly, ‘so he could build the temple without using anything that could also be used as a weapon, which would defile it. It was only very small, the size of a peppercorn, but incredibly powerful. Solomon used it to cut the temple’s stones.’
‘Which might explain how they were so precisely made,’ Nina mused. She regarded the model. ‘The Mother of the Shamir . . . it could be where Solomon’s Shamir originally came from. This city in Ethiopia.’
‘Are there jungles in Ethiopia?’ Howie asked.
‘Actually, yes. But the borders of modern Ethiopia are much smaller than in the past – it used to cover a big chunk of the entire continent.’
Ziff was disappointed. ‘Then there is very little chance of finding it. A pity – finding the Temple of Solomon is remarkable, but an entire lost city? That would be incredible!’
‘We still can find it,’ Nina said, her excitement returning. ‘That’s what I was about to say.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Talal.
She looked between the archaeologists and the omnipresent camera. ‘The metal spire on the palace – if you look through the slots on it, they point to different mountains. It’s a way to triangulate the city’s exact position! If you can identify the mountains, you can use their relative positions to calculate the only place where you would see them from those bearings.’
Talal examined the carved landscape. ‘But none of the mountains have names. We do not know which ones they are.’
‘We don’t need to,’ Nina insisted. ‘There are topographical databases of the whole of Africa, and we can use a computer to search for a particular configuration of mountains. I’ve done it before.’ She gazed at the sprawling miniature below. ‘Solomon left clues to Zhakana’s location. We can follow them – and we can find the lost city!’
4
England
Eddie Chase stood before the gravestone, head bowed in respect. It was the final resting place of his former commanding officer, mentor, comrade – and friend – Colonel Jim McCrimmon, known to all close to him as ‘Mac’. The Scot had taken the young Corporal Chase under his wing when he was first accepted into the SAS, teaching him both what it meant and what was necessary to be a member of the British army’s elite force. Eddie had repaid the favour by carrying his badly wounded commander to safety while under intense fire in Afghanistan, the act for which he had received the Victoria Cross.
Mac had helped the Yorkshireman out on several occasions after he left the SAS, even joining him and Nina on some of their adventures. Until one of them cost him his life.
Eddie had thought he was long over the grief of Mac’s murder, but the memory brought some unexpectedly raw emotions. He swallowed, but held a stoic expression, not wanting his daughter to realise he was upset. His eyes went to the headstone’s inscription.
Fiducia integritatis honore
He served and protected his country
Latin was one of Nina’s specialities, not his, but he had checked the text’s meaning after first visiting the grave some years before. With courage, integrity and honour was a near enough translation, and as far as he was concerned, completely accurate. Mac had given him standards to live up to, and he hoped he had done his commander proud.
‘Was he your friend, Daddy?’ Macy asked, drawing him out of his reverie.
‘Yeah, love, he was,’ Eddie told the red-haired five-year-old. ‘He was . . . my boss when I was in the army. He taught me everything I know.’
‘So he was like your mommy?’
He smiled. ‘Not exactly. Come on, then. Shall we go and meet Auntie Lizzie and Grandad?’
‘Daddy!’ she chided. ‘She told you to call her Elizabeth, not Lizzie.’
‘Did she? Must have said it to my bad ear.’ He faced the grave again. A last moment of contemplation, then he saluted. ‘Wish you could have met my little girl, Mac,’ he said quietly, again feeling emotion welling. He took her by the hand and walked away.
Eddie checked his watch as they headed for the nearest Underground station. They were due to meet his family in about thirty minutes; he knew from having once lived in London that they should make it on time.
Things had changed since calling the capital his home, though. Times were clearly harder: payday loan companies the only new businesses amongst boarded-up shops, cars jolting hard over crumbling potholes, refuse spilling from uncollected rubbish bags along the pavement, a general sense of grime that nobody had the money or inclination to scrub away. London’s energy was still there, but compared to fifteen years earlier it felt as if people were keeping it to themselves, hoarding it. Heads were down, eyes fixed on the ground one step ahead so as not to bump into anyone while scurrying to the next appointment.
Eddie knew the vibe. He had felt it before, but in places he would never have expected to compare to London. He associated it with the fringes of war zones, a perpetual tension and worry that however bad things were now, they could get worse at any moment. Don’t look anyone in the eye, don’t attract trouble . . .
Rather than give in, he lifted his own head higher. ‘What do you think of London, Macy?’
The little girl’s reply was hesitant, as if not wanting to hurt his feelings. ‘I . . . I don’t like it as much as home, Daddy.’
Having lived in Manhattan for twelve years, and mainly associating London with his disastrous first marriage, he was inclined to agree. ‘That’s okay, love. I don’t either.’
‘It’s very dirty,’ she went on. ‘And everybody looks really angry. Or scared.’
‘That’s London, baby,’ he said with a smile, impressed by her astuteness. Although a raised voice had perhaps given her a clue. Ahead, a large man was shouting at someone he had cornered in a vacant shop’s doorway. A few paces nearer, and Eddie realised the object of his ire was a much smaller woman with pale Slavic features, clutching shopping bags. Other pedestrians hurried past, unwilling to get involved. Not liking the look of the situation, he quickened his pace.
The man’s words became clear as they approached. ‘. . . an’ now we’re out of Europe – so you lot are out too!’ he bellowed, his accent a coarse Estuary English. ‘This is our country, not yours, so fuck off home!’
‘This – this is my home,’ the woman stammered, terrified.
‘No it fuckin’ isn’t! Fuckin’ Poles, you came over here an’ nicked all the best jobs! I ’ad ten years on the dole ’cause of you lot! Well,
we’re kickin’ you all out now, so you can fuck off!’
‘Oi!’ Eddie said, ushering Macy behind him. ‘There a problem?’
The red-faced man glowered at him. He was six inches taller than the Yorkshireman, and much broader, though fat rather than muscle stretched the fabric of his football shirt. ‘What’s your fuckin’ problem?’
‘You, if you don’t stop swearing in front of my little girl.’ He looked at the frightened woman, who was barely half her abuser’s weight. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I – I was just shopping, he started shouting at me,’ she said, almost in tears.
Eddie turned back to the man. ‘I think you should leave her alone.’
‘Fuck off, you bald ponce!’
‘Macy,’ Eddie said, ‘go back by that other doorway, love.’ His daughter hurriedly retreated.
The man wheeled on him, fists clenched into meaty balls. ‘Who d’you fuckin’ think you are?’ One arm drew back—
Eddie’s combat instincts had already kicked in. Killing, crippling or knocking out his opponent were all readily available options, but instead he chose forceful self-defence. He grabbed the other man’s arm as it swung at his head, ducking and twisting sharply to shove it up behind his attacker’s back. The man gasped in pain – then the sound was abruptly cut off as the former SAS soldier slammed his face against the shop window. ‘I’m the bloke who’s going to make you apologise to this lady.’
The man strained to peel his mouth off the glass. ‘Fuck off, you – aaaagh!’
Eddie forced his arm even higher, making his shoulder joint crackle. ‘Sorry begins with an “s”, not an “f”. You want to try again?’ He increased the pressure.
‘F— s— sorry!’ the man screeched. ‘Sorry, sorry!’
‘Say it to her.’
He squinted at his victim. ‘I’m sorry! Oh God, stop, let go! You’re breakin’ my arm!’
‘Macy, cover your ears,’ said Eddie. She did so. ‘Okay,’ he growled at the now-keening thug, ‘you: fuck off. And if I see you again, a broken fucking arm’ll be the least of it. You get me?’ The other man nodded. ‘Right. Now bugger off.’
He eased the pressure and stepped back. The sweating man gasped, lowering his arm as far as Eddie would allow. The Yorkshireman turned him away from the woman, then shoved him clear. The man made a hasty retreat, shouting abuse once he reached a safe distance.
Eddie ignored him. ‘You all right?’ he asked the woman.
She managed a faint smile of relief. ‘Yes, thank you, thank you. I don’t know why he did that – he just trapped me and started shouting. I’m not even Polish, I’m Estonian!’
‘I think he was too thick to know the difference.’ He returned to Macy, who was still covering her ears. ‘Okay, love, you can let go now.’
She lowered her hands. ‘Are you all right, Daddy?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay?’
She nodded, looking worriedly after the retreating thug. ‘He wasn’t a nice man.’
‘He wasn’t, no.’
‘Did he hurt that lady?’
‘No, he just scared her.’
‘Why?’
Eddie didn’t feel the time was right for a discussion about racism and xenophobia. ‘Some people are idiots, and bullies,’ he said instead.
‘But you stopped him. You’re really brave, Daddy!’
He smiled. ‘I did what was right, that’s all. If everyone did that, the world’d be a much nicer place.’
‘Is that why you joined the soldiers? To make the world nicer?’
He grinned. ‘I don’t think anyone’s ever described it that way before, but . . . yeah, I suppose I did. There are nasty people who do bad things, and we tried to stop them and help the people they’d hurt.’
She hugged him. ‘You are really brave, Daddy.’
‘I do my best.’ He picked up Macy and resumed their interrupted journey.
The encounter had made them late.
‘And what time do you call this?’ said his sister Elizabeth mockingly.
‘Couldn’t find a clock,’ Eddie told the three people waiting for them in the small park across from the Houses of Parliament. ‘You know where one is?’ He pretended to squint at the Elizabeth Tower, the official name of the clock tower more commonly known as Big Ben. The Yorkshireman had arranged to meet his family there to show Macy the iconic symbol of Britain. ‘Actually, we got held up on the way.’
‘Daddy told a nasty man to leave a lady alone!’ Macy said excitedly.
Larry Chase, Eddie’s father, knelt to embrace the little girl. ‘He did, did he?’
Elizabeth shook her head. ‘Even when you’re on holiday with your daughter, you can’t stay out of trouble, can you?’
‘Well, I could’ve just let some no-neck idiot keep on abusing a woman half his size, but hey,’ he shrugged, ‘I wanted to set a good example for my daughter. Mad, I know. Anyway, hi, Lizzie! And Dad, Julie.’
‘Hi, Eddie,’ said Julie Chase, his stepmother. Larry’s second wife was actually younger than either of his children, a fact that Eddie still found disconcerting even after he had settled most of his differences with his once-estranged father. ‘And hi, Macy! Gosh, you’ve got so big.’
‘What happened, then?’ Larry asked him. ‘Was this just on the street?’
‘Yeah, we were on our way to the Tube station when this moron started having a go. I had words with him, and he stopped.’
‘Daddy beat him up!’ Macy said proudly.
‘I did not beat him up,’ Eddie hurriedly clarified on seeing the trio’s startled looks. ‘I just made him apologise and then told him to get lost, that’s all.’
‘Why was he having a go at her?’ said Larry.
‘For not being English, far as I could tell.’
Elizabeth made a disgusted sound. ‘There’s been so much of that going on since Brexit, it’s horrible. You’re lucky to be out of it in the States.’
‘Because nobody in America’s said anything racist lately,’ Eddie replied sarcastically. ‘But yeah, things feel different.’
‘Not as much money around, and what there is, is going to the people at the very top,’ said Larry. ‘Granted, ’twas ever thus, but it seems more so than usual. Pulling out of Europe’s really hit my company, because more than half my business was with the EU. Very glad I’m about to retire.’
‘He’s pretty much retired already,’ Julie said with a smile. ‘He spends as much time playing golf as in the office now.’
‘How’s Holly?’ Eddie asked Elizabeth of his niece. ‘We haven’t seen her since she was in the States two years back.’
‘She’s fine,’ his sister replied. ‘She finished her degree – with a first, so I’m very proud! – and is working for a media company in Bristol, but she’s hoping to get a job in America. She would have come tonight, but couldn’t get away.’
‘Aw, shame.’
‘I know, she would have loved to see Macy again. So what else have you two been doing? You’ve been in England for a couple of days, haven’t you?’
Eddie nodded. ‘Nina’s filming her documentary in Israel, so I thought I’d show Macy her roots. Took her up to Yorkshire to see our old neck of the woods, visited the children’s museum in Halifax, then went to Alton Towers before coming down here.’
‘How is Nina?’ Julie asked. ‘I tried phoning her to wish her a happy birthday, but couldn’t get hold of her. I suppose she was already in Israel.’
‘Yeah, she spent her fortieth in the bloody desert. Even I didn’t get to talk to her until the next day. Although to be honest, she wasn’t exactly celebrating it anyway. The big four-oh’s more when a lot of people start worrying about being middle-aged.’
‘Did you worry about it?’ Julie asked him.
He had passed the landmark five years earlier. ‘Na
h, only thing that bothered me was that I was halfway to going bald. So I thought, sod it, and went for the full Captain Picard.’ He rubbed a hand over his shaven scalp. ‘Got my retaliation in first.’
‘Everything’s war with you, isn’t it?’ said Elizabeth. ‘It always has been.’
He didn’t take her bait for two reasons: the first was that he had no intention of getting into an argument with her in front of Macy, and the second that his phone had started ringing. ‘Speaking of Nina, that’s her,’ he said, recognising the ringtone. He answered. ‘Ay up, love! I’m here with the rest of the family. How’re you doing?’
‘Great, thanks!’ Nina replied. He instantly knew she was excited about some new discovery, the barely contained exhilaration in her voice as familiar as her ringtone. ‘You won’t believe what we found today. We opened up the First Temple, which was a big event in itself, but then once we were inside—’
‘You want to say hi to everyone before you get into an archaeological frenzy?’ he suggested. ‘I’ll put you on speaker. Macy, it’s Mummy.’
‘Mommy,’ Macy corrected as he switched to speakerphone.
‘Yeah, yeah. Say hello to her. Everyone else, an’ all.’
A chorus of ‘Hi, Nina!’ followed. ‘And a belated happy fortieth birthday!’ added Julie. ‘Sorry we missed it!’
‘Thanks,’ Nina said, sounding far from sorry herself. ‘Is everyone okay?’
‘We’re all fine,’ Julie told her. ‘We’re taking Macy to see Starshine Stables this evening.’
‘I . . . don’t know what that is.’
‘It’s a musical, love,’ said Eddie, grinning. ‘You know, with songs and dancing and stuff.’
Her reply had a light touch of frosting. ‘Yes, I’m aware of the form, darling.’
‘It’s about magic horses!’ Macy said enthusiastically.
‘Sounds like you’ll enjoy it, Macy. I hope everyone else does! Anyway, can you put Daddy back on? I need to tell him something.’
Hiding his exasperation, Eddie returned the phone to his ear. ‘It’d better be “I love you”. Or about that thing you don’t want to do nearly often enough.’
King Solomon's Curse Page 8
