Marty Boggs & The Discovery of the Mummy's Tomb
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brushed aside the guilt he could feel blossom in his chest. He knew Razeem feared the curse. Most did. Power was a funny thing, and if the curse was to be believed, then that was what Kutkara was, pure power. Reginald knew power had a way of ruining you, revealing what lurked on the inside of men.
Reginald understood his friend’s fear. He just wouldn’t let it stop him.
From the first moment Reginald had heard of Kutkara long ago, well before his hair had turned gray, years before their friendship had ever even existed, it had been an obsession. It was an obsession they had once laughed at as they made their way through bottles of Absinthe, the green fairy enchanting them both. No matter how many treasures he had unearthed over the years, Kutkara had always been his Holy Grail, an honest to God obsession, one that had slowly eroded at Reginald’s sanity.
Razeem knew the truth of it, growing up a child of Egypt. He had heard the tales and feared the day Kutkara was found. He understood all along that somehow this evil had been calling to Reginald from beyond the grave, leading him to this very day, and while Reginald knew his words carried some truth, he simply refused to take them to heart.
“A myth,” Reginald stared down at his hands as he spoke, his voice hushed and strangely controlled. “It has been nearly forty years that I’ve chased this ghost.” He looked at Razeem, letting out a hoarse and bitter laugh as he tried not to think of all he had sacrificed for this moment. “This place is said not to exist and Kutkara he was to have been nothing more than a fanciful story conjured up to scare the children of this land. Nevertheless, we've proved them wrong, every one of them. He was never a myth and he is no more a ghost than I am.” Reginald’s eyes burned with madness as he spoke, his voice distant and near hushed as his body finally gave way, swaying with exhaustion. He was no longer a young man. He had sold his youth long ago to fuel his obsession.
Razeem placed a hand on Reginald's back to steady him. “Come old friend, it’s time to sit back and savor this moment of discovery.”
“I’d rather have a cigar.” Reginald chuckled as Razeem shook his head at him.
“You’re an old man Reginald and a damn stubborn one at that, but I am just as old and nearly as stubborn. What will our children ever do with us?” He pulled two cigars from his front pocket, biting off the end of his own with a wink at Reginald. “First, you must sit. Then, I will give you your cigar.”
Razeem helped Reginald to his nearby tent making sure he was steadily seated before he handed over the promised cigar, lighting Reginald’s first and then his own. Reginald nodded his thanks with a smile, savoring the smoke as it filled his mouth, knowing his daughter would tear out a piece of his hide if she caught him smoking. He tried to ignore the crease of worry that lined Razeem’s brow as he settled across from him knowing that his friend could sense that this find had cost him greatly, both in body and in mind.
Wisely, Razeem kept his peace and his silence. He was not a man to waste words on the unwilling. Reginald was a proud man, descending from a long line of archeologists. In his many years he had seen and accomplished much, many of his adventures shared with Reginald at his side. They were two old coots who never thought they would see their golden years so quickly approaching. They had not wasted their youth. They had devoured it.
“Did you see the seal?” Razeem asked, watching Reginald closely through half slit eyes.
“I did. It's nothing but a warning meant to scare away grave robbers.” Reginald replied.
“I believe it speaks the truth. This legend of yours comes with a high price. Are you certain you are prepared to pay it?”
Reginald simply looked at Razeem for a moment, his light blue eyes waging a silent war with his friend's deep brown ones. He chose his words carefully after a long moment. “Inside the tomb I found more writing, some that I could read and some that was too strange to decipher. What I could make out told of a powerful traveler who once descended upon the land. A traveler believed to have fallen straight from the sun.
His strength and power were that of a God and the people were forced to grant their souls to his taking. In his wake sickness and death plagued the land until the people rose up in masses of the living and the dead, banishing this traveler of death. It was written that a curse was buried within the tomb, a curse that shall at last make its mark no more.”
“It is as I feared then. You have doomed us all Reginald and you don’t even see it.” Razeem’s words were angry, but Reginald took no offense. He was a native Egyptian and Reginald knew he never met a curse he made light of.
“Don't be absurd,” Reginald tried to wave off his friend's worry. “This could be the most significant find in all of Egypt, perhaps in the entire world. It is a triumph not just for history but for your people too.”
“Perhaps, but some things are better left undisturbed. Even I know that Reginald. It is you who has never truly understood this, at least not when concerning Kutkara.”
“You cannot learn from what you fear to explore, and for you of all people to actually mean what you say, an archeologist no different than me, I can’t understand it Razeem. I refuse to. If we lived in fear of curses whole civilizations would have been left buried.” Reginald surged to his feet in frustration, grinding out the spent cigar beneath his booted foot.
Razeem rose as well, not in frustration but resignation. The two men stared at one another in silence each knowing that their friendship was a strong bond that had weathered rougher seas. However, on this they must walk two separate paths. It was with great sadness that they both knew this to be the case.
Nodding, Reginald reached inside his cloth bag that hung from his waist pulling out the ruby amulet that he had found in the serpent's mouth. He held it out to Razeem, a peace offering of sorts, thinking his friend would never be able to resist examining the stone.
“What is this?” Razeem asked, not reaching for the stone as Reginald thought he would. There was no eagerness in Razeem’s words. Rather there was fear, deep and dark in his eyes.
“The stone was lodged inside the mouth of a two-headed serpent that was blocking the hidden chamber.” Reginald held out the stone before him, the sun's rays shining through the ruby so that bright streaks of red danced on the sand before them.
“What is this inscription here?” Razeem pointed to the symbols on either side of the stone, his fingers recoiling quickly, never actually making contact.
“I don't know. It’s odd really, unlike any dialect I have ever seen.” Reginald said as he placed the stone back into his bag. He was unsettled by the amulet and by Razeem’s reaction to it, a part of him knowing that somehow this stone was responsible for the strange earthquake that had occurred. He had already decided to send the amulet to his daughter back in the states, hoping that with her brilliance in deciphering long lost dialects she would be able to unlock the clues to the amulet's origin.
The two men stood side by side in silence, neither wishing to discuss the tomb or Kutkara's discovery, more content to watch the shifting of the sand as the moon began to rise and the workers lit the fires. There was no more to discuss, their beliefs were too different. They had each done their job, Reginald had unearthed a curse and Razeem had tried to stop him.
At least in this moment they had their friendship and that would have to be enough, yet sadly, Reginald feared it would not. Neither man knew in that moment that their friendship would change forever as the curse of Kutkara wound its way around the fabric of their lives.
Chapter Two