The Amarnan Kings, Book 6: Scarab - Descendant

by Overton, Max

  "Yes Minister. Jamal, the inscription indicates the tomb is located in a cliff that has a line of green vegetation pointing to it, and from the line you can see a notch in the cliff where the sun shines through. A track leads up from the line of vegetation to a tomb closed by a rock. It seems straightforward, doesn't it?"

  "But it's not?"

  Nazim pointed out the cabin window to the western bank. "What do you see?"

  Al-Din stared across the water. "Cliffs, farmland, trees, villages."

  "And what's that? Where the cliff top dips--just there." Nazim pointed.

  "It's a notch. Do you think it's the one we're looking for?"

  "Can you see a line of green vegetation?"

  Al-Din stared at the cliff and scrubland at its base. "No, but maybe the plants have died or been chopped down."

  Nazim smiled. "And how would we tell that?"

  "I don't know. How?"

  "I have no idea. That's why this search is so difficult. Even if that notch there did have a line of green to it, how could we be certain the notch wasn't the result of recent erosion and that it didn't exist in the time of the Amarnan Kings? Three thousand years is a long time. We would have to land and investigate each one in turn, and even then we could not be sure."

  Al-Din looked crestfallen. "There could be hundreds of notches. How can we ever find the right one?"

  "It's definitely a problem, but maybe not insurmountable." Nazim turned to Bashir. "Minister, you have looked at topographical maps of the Nile Valley. How many possible notches did you find between Edfu and Esna?"

  "I cannot remember."

  "I counted at least fifty, but less than a hundred."

  "That's a lot of notches," Al-Din said. "If we were to investigate only one a day it could take us two or three months."

  "There are other considerations," Nazim said. "I noticed a few oddities in the narrative--caution almost, as if the writer was aware her words could be read by men hostile to her." He glanced at Bashir. "May I elaborate, Minister?" When Bashir nodded, he continued. "The first reference to the site we seek came after an account of a battle at ancient Thebes--that's modern-day Luxor. The inscription says it was two days south of the city, conveyed by battle galleys rowing against the current. Later, we are told the tomb is three days south, yet north of the first site. Again, and here is the best description of the tomb, just after the king has died, we are told it is near Behdet--modern day Edfu."

  Al-Din considered Nazim's words while Bashir and Sarraj watched him with interest. "Those descriptions do not make sense, Nazim. You say the first site is two days south of Luxor and yet the tomb is three days south of the city, yet a little north of it."

  "That is what the inscription says," Nazim said.

  "If there is that great a discrepancy, how much reliance can you place on anything in it?" Al-Din queried.

  "That remains to be seen," Bashir said.

  An hour later, when they had moved past Esna, they came to the first of many possible sites. The captain guided the launch toward the western shore and they all stood on deck and studied the land that lay before them.

  A strip of rocky scrubland stretched from the riverside inland for a couple of hundred yards before becoming pasturage. Another half mile further inland, the cliffs towered above them with an apron of overgrown fallen rock spreading out from their base. They landed and the crewman made fast the boat while Bashir led his team into the scrubland. He encouraged them to investigate the ground for signs of former water courses, where vegetation could have grown. They found nothing, and moved inland, examining the cliff face with binoculars, but although a goat track led through the crumbling fallen rock and scrub, it petered out when it met solid rock. Neither was there a cleft in the rock face nor any sign of man's hand, whether ancient or modern.

  They trooped back to the launch and moved upriver a bit, to the next site, where a thin wedge of old trees ran inland from near the water's edge. An irregular depression hinted at an old channel and the spirits of all rose at the sight.

  "That could be viewed as a strip of green," Al-Din said.

  They landed again and followed the strip to where it faded from view a few hundred yards inland. Nazim got down on his knees, digging in the soil in the side of the depression. He got up after a few minutes, moved a few paces and dug again before calling the others over and pointing at his find. "What do you think?"

  Bashir grunted. "What am I looking at?"

  "Rocks?" Sarraj queried.

  "Yes, rounded river boulders only a foot under river silt. The river has been through here within the last hundred years or so."

  "I imagine the river has changed its course many times over the centuries," Bashir said. "Is it important?"

  "It is if you think that line of trees and old channel are evidence of the line of green."

  "Why? Explain your reasoning, Nazim."

  "If the river flowed over here in the recent past--and I'm talking no more than a hundred or so years going by the apparent age of the trees--then this wedge of green and this channel did not exist previously. It's a false trail."

  "Are you sure?"

  "No, Minister. It could still be an ancient river bed and the trees have been replaced many times over the millennia, but I wouldn't get too excited by just this one sign."

  They moved toward the cliffs but it soon became clear that the rocky slopes were devoid of the blemishes they sought, neither cleft nor notch marred the cliff top and no hint of a track scarred the cliff face. Disappointed, they made their way back to the waiting launch.

  They moved farther upriver, stopping at intervals to examine a site from the water, landing at a few to investigate a feature more thoroughly. A small town came in sight and they docked at the wharf to refresh themselves at a tiny restaurant before embarking and journeying onward.

  "I suppose we are limited to the western cliffs?" Sarraj asked.

  "That's what the inscription indicates," Nazim said. "Why do you ask, Colonel?"

  Sarraj pointed. "There are many notches in the eastern cliffs."

  Bashir stared and after a few moments, swore violently. "Are we wasting our time? Should we be searching that side too?"

  "Let us not lose our focus, Minister," Nazim said soothingly. "We saw nothing in the inscription that even hints at deliberate deceit. If the writer says it is on the western shore, then that is a reasonable assumption. Indeed, if we started to think that one part of the description was false, then how could we believe any part of it? We would be better off giving up and going home. As it is, our task is a difficult one--but not impossible."

  Sarraj tired of their efforts by early afternoon and requested a return to Luxor. Bashir tended to agree, having decided that the reality of the search was totally different from his concept of what it would be like. Nazim argued for continuing the search, saying that each site examined was one less possibility, and sooner or later they must happen upon the right one.

  "I'm sure you're right," Bashir said, yawning, "But I think we've done enough for today. Besides, I've things to do in Luxor."

  "I thought the search for the tomb was the most important thing," Nazim protested.

  "And so it is, but I don't have to be here for you to carry it out. We'll return home, and you and Lieutenant Al-Din can come out again tomorrow."

  They returned to Luxor, arriving in the middle of the afternoon. Bashir and Sarraj went off together, leaving Nazim and Al-Din at a loose end. Nazim intimated there were account books requiring his attention.

  "What do I do now?" Al-Din asked. "Are my duties over for the day or have you something you need me to do?"

  Nazim sighed. "There are hours more of useful day ahead of us, but little you can do here. We need to be cruising the river and examining potential sites. So no, Jamal Al-Din, I have no more work for you today. What will you do with your time?"

  "I have never been to Egypt before. I thought I might do some sight-seeing."

  "There is a very goo
d museum in Luxor."

  "I thought I might visit the Valley of the Kings or some of the temples. Get some idea of what ancient Egypt was like."

  "You'll need a whole day to see the Valley of the Kings," Nazim said. "It's on the western shore, but if you want something you can see properly in an hour or two, I hear the Great Temple of Luxor is worth seeing."

  "The Great Temple it is then," Al-Din said with a smile. "Thank you." He turned to leave, and Nazim called after him.

  "I don't suppose I could accompany you? All of a sudden, accounting has lost its attraction."

  "I'd be delighted," Al-Din said.

  They went back to the hotel to change shirts and refresh themselves before catching a taxi to the Avenue that ran between the Luxor Temple and Karnak Temple Complex. The taxi dropped them in the still considerable afternoon heat a half mile from the temple.

  "Why so far, Nazim? It's hot out here."

  Nazim paid off the driver and pointed. "Look. What do you see?"

  Al-Din looked up the length of the Avenue and gasped. A narrow strip of paved stone ran straight as a ruled line toward the temple, lined by broad expanses of coarse gravel on either side. Bordering on the Avenue itself sat, on stone plinths, dozens of carved, human-headed sphinxes. Some were no more than a stone paw or heap of rubble, but others were intact, staring out dispassionately at their fellows across the way.

  "Amazing," Al-Din breathed. "One can almost imagine how they must have looked in ancient times. Such a feeling of history - maybe even King Tut walked down here."

  "He was more likely borne in a litter or rode in a chariot," Nazim said. "But you're right; it is easy to imagine the ancient glories of Egypt. Of course," he added, "The Avenue would have been very different then. Now don't quote me on this, but I think Queen Hatshepsut and King Amenhotep the Third first put ram-headed sphinxes here--the ram was sacred to the god Amun, whose temple lies at the end. It wasn't until much later though, that the few rams became many."

  "But these aren't rams, they're human-headed."

  "They have rams-heads toward the Karnak temple, I'm told." Nazim pointed back down the long thoroughfare to where a tall minaret sat opposite the ruined walls of the distant Temple Complex.

  They started walking down the long Avenue toward the Luxor temple. As they approached, they saw what appeared to be two high walls in their path, with a cleft between them. To one side a granite obelisk reared taller than the walls and giant stone figures sat in their shade.

  "A shadow of its former glory," Nazim murmured.

  "Why are the walls so short?" Al-Din asked. "I suppose in the olden days they went all around the temple, but you'd think that if they preserved those bits, they'd keep more."

  "I have done some reading on this. Those aren't walls, Jamal, but pylons. A pylon is a gateway, and before it fell into disrepair, it was made up of two tapering towers joined by a cross piece. The actual gateway itself would have been half the height of the towers. I'm told that the form of the pylon is..." Nazim stopped and stared at the structure ahead of them.

  "What? Are you all right?"

  "Yes...I just had a thought..."

  "Do you want to share it?"

  Nazim shook his head. "Not yet...no...or rather yes. If I don't, I might forget it. Look, I read that the form of the pylon, the gateway, is that of two low hills between which the sun rises. It mirrors the hieroglyph for the horizon or akhet ."

  "Interesting," Al-Din said, though he shuffled his feet and looked away as he spoke.

  "No, that's not the interesting part," Nazim went on. "The Syrian inscription talked about a notch on the cliff top through which the sun guided one to the tomb. We've all been assuming that was a notch in the cliff top, perhaps carved by wind or rain--but what if it's not? What if the notch is really a pylon built on top of the cliff? That could narrow down the search enormously."

  "How do you mean?"

  "Think, Jamal. There are monuments scattered throughout Egypt--inscriptions, obelisks, temples...and pylons. What if our Scarab woman positioned her tomb in line with an existing pylon, or built one as a guide?"

  Al-Din considered the idea. "But wouldn't that lead people to the tomb? The idea was to keep people away, wasn't it--tomb robbers and all that?"

  "True, but the ancient Egyptians were a superstitious lot with all their gods and demons. Maybe she thought the presence of a symbolic gateway was a necessary part of the burial process." Nazim grinned. "By Allah the Merciful and Beneficent, I really think this is the answer."

  "Do you want to go back and tell the Minister?"

  "No hurry. Let's continue with our tour."

  As they neared the pylon, the scale of the building impressed itself on their senses. They craned their necks to look up the towering walls, the massive statues of the seated pharaohs at the gateway entrance staring stonily down the great Avenue far above their heads. Nazim said that he thought the statue was of Ramses the Great, but that he was not sure.

  Al-Din peered at the worn carved hieroglyphs on the granite plinth. "Doesn't it say who it is?"

  "Quite possibly, but I can't read hieroglyphs."

  They walked through the gateway into the temple, encountering more statues and huge columns, their carved tops outlined against the blue sky. The passage between the rows of columns was narrow, engendering feelings of inferiority as the weight of stone pressed in around them.

  "Guide, effendi?" A dusty-clothed Egyptian smiled ingratiatingly at Nazim and Al-Din. "My name is Ali and I show you the temple--very cheap." He went on to name a price that was exorbitant by any standard.

  "No thank you."

  The Egyptian immediately halved his price. "You will not find a better guide, effendi. These motherless sons of diseased dogs around here would rob you blind, but I offer you a price to delight your pockets. I know every part of the temple and all its history. I can show you temple writing that is not normally seen by visitors--and can even translate it." He struck himself on the chest and raised his head proudly. "I am educated, effendi, and would be happy to impart my knowledge for a small consideration." The price dropped again.

  Al-Din drew Nazim aside. "Why not? It seems like a reasonable price."

  Nazim smiled. "You do realise we'll probably be fed a whole lot of stories that have no bearing on the truth?" He shrugged. "Go on then, at least he'll be able to feed his family tonight." He turned back to the waiting Egyptian. "Very well then, Ali. Show us the temple."

  "Oh, a thousand blessings on you, effendi, you will not regret it. I will show you everything. Come."

  Ali gestured for his clients to follow him and immediately started talking about the structures around them. He claimed that the temple was as old as the earth itself, having been built by Afrit before the Word of Allah was given to a pagan world.

  "The very first pharaohs built this entrance way--the same ones that built the great pyramids of Giza. You have seen these pyramids, effendi?"

  "You see?" Nazim murmured. "Already he is making up stories. This temple came long after the pyramids."

  Ali prattled on, obviously enjoying himself, and Nazim recognised that while he was repeating local legend and embroidering obvious folk tales, some of the information was correct. Nazim was no expert in Egyptian architecture, but he had read books on Egypt and knew the open space within the temple was called the peristyle court. Ali correctly identified it, with its seventy-four columns bearing stylised lotus buds at their crowns. He talked about the shrine to Thutmose III in one corner and the giant colonnade of Amenhotep III beyond the court--seven pairs of fifty-foot columns carved to represent papyrus stems. The huge stone architrave blocks were still in place, and Nazim could imagine them crumbling and plunging to the ground, crushing anyone under them. Ali pointed out the giant statues of Ramses II and told stories of how difficult they had been to erect.

  "They were so heavy, effendi, that thousands of men working together could not move them. The king was very angry and the priests prayed very h
ard to their false gods and a miracle happened. That night, the statues came to life and walked to their places in the temple before turning back into stone. Of course, this power came from Afrit, and not from God, and since the Prophet, peace be unto him, the demons have been powerless and the statues unable to move."

  The court of Amenhotep lay beyond the colonnade, and beyond that the serried ranks of the Hypostyle and the sanctuary of the god Amun with walls covered in carvings. There was even an enclosed space with the stone ceilings intact, dedicated to Alexander the Great. The Macedonian ruler had converted part of the temple into a shrine a thousand years after the temple had been built, and the walls of the shrine were decorated with faded paintings and stone reliefs showing Alexander as pharaoh.

  One part of the temple took them by surprise. Just inside the entrance was a modern building perched atop of ancient stonework and truncated columns. It was in good repair, whitewashed and painted, with iron railings, a small dome and a slender minaret.

  "It's a mosque," Al-Din exclaimed. "What's a mosque doing here?"

  "That is an interesting story," Ali replied. "A thousand years ago the faithful built a mosque on a mound of earth at this site, and it was only when the English started to excavate that it was found to have been built on the ruins of the temple. Inside, if you wish to see, there is a grave in which Yousef Ibn Abdel-Raheem, known as Abu Al-Haggag, is buried. The mosque is named after this worthy person."

  "What makes him worthy enough to be buried inside the mosque?" Al-Din asked.

  "Abu Al-Haggag was a Sufi Sheik, born in Baghdad, but when he came to Luxor, he saw that it needed a mosque. He petitioned the Christian ruler--yes, Egypt was ruled by the Coptic Christians then--a Princess, no less. Abu Haggag asked for land to build a mosque, but the Princess refused, so he asked for only as much land as could be enclosed by a camel's skin. She laughed and agreed. That night, Abu Haggag cut the hide of a camel into a very fine strip, so long that it encompassed a Christian church which stood there. In the morning, the Princess was amazed and angered, but kept her word and gave Abu Haggag the land. Over time, the Princess came to see that Abu Haggag was a holy man and she, herself, converted to Islam."