“Two reasons. Firstly, it wasn’t Carnarvon’s style to lie about where he obtained something. Remember, he was too honest about finding papyri in Tutankhamen’s tomb. Secondly, there’s the timeline. From the Amarna Letters, Marek—the real one—was sure the trip to the Valley of the Kings was earlier. We think the Map-Stone was taken to Amarna with other records after the queen had died.”
“What about Akhenaten? Where’s he?”
“If only I knew!” Alex ordered more drinks. He had a twinkle in his eye when he looked back at Vanessa. “You know, there are people who believe Moses was actually Akhenaten.”
“Which can’t be true. You said yourself Akhenaten died.”
Alex held up his hands. “I agree. I agree. But there are many who think the Exodus happened around this time. Remember, Akhenaten’s—and by extension Nefertiti’s—followers were considered outlaws.”
“Yes, I recall you winding me up by saying Ibiru meant outlaw and sounds like Hebrew.”
“You know, one thing that’s always bothered me about the Bible is the story of Adam and Eve. They’re the first people, right? Eve is made from Adam’s rib, but they can’t have been the only ones. When Cain kills Abel he is branded so that others would know. Later, Cain marries and has a son.”
“Called Henoch,” Vanessa said quietly.
Alex nodded. “If there weren’t other people, then Cain must have married a sister—which he didn’t.”
Vanessa was drinking a tequila sunrise. After a couple of sips, she said, “I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or that I’m just suddenly very chilled out, but I’m not going to argue with you.” Her laugh prompted him to continue.
“I’ll tell you something that may surprise you. There’s a theory that Akhenaten and Nefertiti were the Adam and Eve of the Bible. Akhetaten was a new beautiful paradise—Eden. Akhenaten upset God and they were expelled from the city.”
“And you believe that?”
“Not really. It’s a fun thought though. The city must have been incredible, like nothing the people would have experienced before. Obviously you can’t see it nowadays, but there would have been irrigation channels with gardens and trees everywhere. The streets would have been paved, some with beautiful paintings—there’s one in the Cairo Museum. Parts would have been open to the sky for the worship of the sun, but scholars believe there were giant awnings strung between buildings so that people could walk in the shade. The temples would have been beautifully painted with blues and yellows and white and green, bringing the buildings to life. Even the statues would have been painted with lifelike colours. It must have been an incredible time—a time of art and music and peace.”
“Until it all came to an end.”
“But wonderful while it lasted.”
“If it was allowed, I’d give you a kiss.” She squeezed his arm affectionately. “For an atheist, you’ve just painted a very religious experience.”
SIXTY-FOUR
Gershom stood on the hill overlooking Tell el-Daba. “So this is the temple.”
Wael indicated the complete area of what was thought to be two temples, but they now understood it as one: A1 folded to form two A2 sheets. “The temple of Osiris,” he said. “Everything fits. It is as you said. And more logical that it would be in the Delta rather than Amarna. The Delta was the centre of the religion.”
“And the map showed the entrance to the tomb?” Gershom looked at the crude excavation and open stone entrance.
“It is the one.”
“Where is Joachim?”
“He’s inside laying explosive.” Wael couldn’t mask the disgust in his voice.
“What is the matter?”
“I am an archaeologist first and foremost. You know I do not approve of this destruction.”
“First and foremost you are a member of the Brotherhood. I sympathize with your concern and yet this is the only way. We must remove the evidence.”
Wael looked imploringly at the old man. “But there is no evidence!”
“What?”
“Come, let me show you.”
Wael led the way into the crater, waited for the old man to catch up and then ducked beneath a stone lintel and into a corridor. He pulled out a torch and lit the way, switching first left then right through a maze.
The old man’s walking stick click-clacked against the stone, reflecting his uncertain slow pace. After the third turn he said, “The map was clear about the way through the maze?”
“Yes, yes, we had no problem until…”
They rounded a corner and saw the light from Joachim’s torch. He was standing in a room and had attached explosive to the walls.
The room was empty except for hieroglyphs on the walls.
Gershom said, “The burial chamber?”
Joachim stopped what he was doing and waved his arms around. “Empty. It looks as though the tomb was robbed in antiquity.”
“And there is nothing more?”
Wael said, “There is an identical room on the opposite side to this, but this room is the true burial chamber. See, there is nothing here. The hieroglyphs indicate this was the tomb of an important lady—undoubtedly the right tomb, undoubtedly Eighteenth Dynasty, but there is nothing here that needs to be destroyed.”
Gershom thought for a moment then tapped his stick as though a decision had been made. “We go. Remove the explosive, Joachim. Wael is correct, there is nothing here we should be afraid of.”
Joachim hesitated as though considering an argument, but then he began to disconnect the explosive. Gershom patted Wael on the arm and directed him out of the chamber. Together they retraced their steps to the surface.
Outside, Wael said, “Thank you.”
“You have served the Brotherhood of Levi well.” Gershom pointed to the Land Rover parked outside the hotel. The driver raised a hand in acknowledgement. “Go back to Cairo and go back to your life.”
“And you?”
“I will pray.”
As Wael walked down the hill, Gershom found the sacred place in the temple. He stood still for a time, deep in thought, before removing a book from his pocket. Holding it in front of him he raised his head to the sky and began to chant the old sacred words that had been passed down from leader to leader for over three thousand years.
When he finished, the sun was a liquid golden disc on the horizon. For ten more minutes he watched in silence as it disappeared, feeling the same wonder that ancient Egyptians must have felt as they imagined the sun had been swallowed by the goddess Nut, to pass through her body and be reborn the next day. This was the Aten, the sun disc on the horizon. Gershom nodded at the thought: how much easier it would have been if Judaism had been based on Akhenaten’s worship of the sun god. Freud’s theory had been a cunning misdirection. It would never be proven because there was no evidence either way.
As Gershom turned to walk back he saw Joachim watching, his eyes cold and without appreciation of the moment. He could never be the leader of the Brotherhood. But then neither could Wael.
The younger man said, “Everything is in place.”
“Did you ever think Wael would be able to find the tomb?”
“It was possible. Perhaps he could have found the temple, but I doubt if he would have worked out the relevance of the golden triangles and sequence.”
In the rapidly fading light, they began to walk down the hill, Joachim walking at the old man’s pace.
Joachim said, “But the chamber we have found is not the final tomb. The maze is impossible to solve without the map. And MacLure must know he didn’t tell us everything. Are you certain he will come back?”
“He’ll be back, either tonight or tomorrow I think.” Gershom stopped and looked back towards the temple. “And the explosives?”
Joachim smiled tightly. “As I said, the explosives are in place.”
SIXTY-FIVE
The moon was three days off full and cast a spooky glow over the ancient hill. Vanessa had parked in the shadow by farm buildings, where A
lex had indicated, and they followed the path to the foot of the mound. They wore black, having spent the day shopping for appropriate clothes in Port Said, and each had a powerful torch. Alex wore a tool belt, just in case a claw hammer or screwdriver was somehow required. He didn’t have Vanessa’s karate skills and the truth was he liked the idea that the tools could double as weapons.
He checked his watch: just after 1am. They stood, hidden beside a wall, and stared at the eerie hill. Nothing stirred. After thirty minutes they decided to move forward.
A dog barked dryly from the direction of the main cluster of buildings. Someone shouted. Alex and Vanessa stopped, crouched and listened. Another dog barked far away, then silence.
“We’re exposed here,” Vanessa whispered. “We should just get inside.”
Alex nodded and they moved quickly to where the digger had excavated the entrance. In the moonlight, Alex could see that a metal grill like a section of security fence lay across the doorway. A red and white sign warned of danger.
Taking a side each, they carefully lifted the grill and manoeuvred it aside. Then, leading the way, Alex climbed past the stone door. He switched on his torch. A second beam swept across his as Vanessa joined him. The passage was just wide enough for one person with their head bent. The walls, floor and ceiling were unadorned stone blocks. They walked forward five paces. Small stones and sandy earth covered the floor and grated under their feet. At a T-junction Alex pictured the Map-Stone and knew he should turn left. Vanessa followed a step behind.
Alex pulled up sharply. A red light blinked in the wall. “What the…?”
Vanessa stood close and peered at the object wedged between blocks. The red light was a digital display.
Alex said, “Jesus! It’s a timer. This place is rigged to blow.”
“According to the timer, that’s just under two hours.”
He checked his watch again. “Let’s hope it’s enough,” he said, and swept the torch ahead. Two hours seemed a long time, but his breathing quickened and he began to hurry. Three steps and he turned right and then immediately left. At the next junction there was another timer on a package fixed to the wall. Same time as the first. Alex hurried on, going right and then right again.
Vanessa whispered, “This is much bigger than I expected.”
He detected something in her voice, turned to look at her. “You OK?”
In the torchlight her face looked ghostly pale. “I don’t like confined spaces.”
“Not long,” he said, and took four paces forward and stopped. It appeared to be a dead end.
Vanessa shone her torch at the wall. “Wrong way?”
Alex stepped forward, sideways and disappeared. His torch lit a sliver of wall where he’d disappeared.
“Optical illusion,” he said.
She followed and squeezed through. They switched back and forth before arriving at a chamber.
Alex said. “No more explosives since the false wall. Looks like the other guys didn’t get this far. Probably found the mirror image of this chamber.”
They shone their torches around the blank walls.
Vanessa said, “Nothing here.”
“Another illusion.” Alex went to the far end and shone the torch back. Again the overlapping stones, this time with a gap in the floor.
He sat, manoeuvred into the hole and shone the torch down and right. Steps descended into a well of blackness.
“Oh God,” Vanessa said.
“If it’s too confined for you, wait here.”
“I’m coming.”
They dropped almost six feet and began to switch back and forth through this new level. The sides were barely shoulder width apart and the low ceiling made them crouch.
“Alex.”
“OK?” He swivelled, shone his torch towards her and saw a piece of limestone in her hand and a mark on the wall.
She smiled wanly. “I’m marking our route. It’s helping me stay focused and to not worry about being trapped down here. But we’ve just come back on ourselves.”
“I can’t do it,” he admitted. “I thought I could make sense of the lines on the Map-Stone but I can’t.”
“I can get us back to the steps. Shall we go back?”
He reluctantly agreed, and after a couple of turns, they were back at the start of the level.
She sat on the steps and he squatted in front of her, thinking. After a few minutes he raised his torch to check Vanessa’s face. She looked at him, half patient, half expectant. And then he saw it. Over her left shoulder was a symbol on the wall. He jumped up and looked closely, felt its indentation. A scarab. He shone the torch on the other walls. Each path was marked with a different symbol. Then one made him let out a splutter.
“The knot of Isis,” he exclaimed. “It’s one of the four amulets for protection in the afterlife. It was put in the hand of the deceased. Of course! Isis is the key of life. Isis is key. Ellen’s message had another meaning!” He squeezed past her and shone the torch along the walls and checked out each of the next corners.
“This way—we follow the Isis markings.”
At the junction, he pointed the light at another Isis knot on the wall, turned and searched the next alternatives. He was moving quicker now and after three switchbacks turned to Vanessa and said, “Almost there. Next turn should take us to the burial corridor. If I’ve got my bearings, it’ll take us back under the temple.”
At the junction, they needed to crawl to get into the corridor. Here the air was cool and tasted of dry dust and earth. There was writing on the walls. Alex picked out a series of hieroglyphs.
“It’s Neferneferuaten—Nefertiti,” Alex said, the excitement almost choking his voice. The hieroglyphs ran along the gently sloping corridor and appeared to be telling a story.
“Can you read it?” Vanessa wanted to know.
“No.” Alex ran his hand along. “But here we have the death of a child and then another. This section seems to be about Akhenaten’s death and the Aten turning his back on the people.” As he moved down he had to climb around wooden ceiling supports.
He switched to the other wall. “This is more positive. Here Nefertiti seems to have taken on the form of Isis and is with her husband Osiris. Here’s reference to the Palace of the Great Barque. And four geese!” He played the torch back and forth. “I don’t understand. Maybe it’s a double meaning again. I didn’t expect any more geese.”
“Wael said that the geese could symbolize the rise of a new pharaoh.”
“He did.” Alex thought for a second. “Would Nefertiti celebrate Ay taking power? It doesn’t seem likely.”
Vanessa said, “How’re we doing for time?”
He checked his watch. “Ninety-three minutes.”
“Can we keep going? The sooner we’re out of here the better.”
“But this could be the find of the century! We need to record it before it’s too late.” Alex took out his phone and, using the torch, snapped photographs of the mural. When he had finished, Vanessa was waiting for him at the end of the passage—the antechamber, Alex surmised. There had once been a stone door, but the debris was scattered around a partial slab where it had originally sealed the chamber.
The floor dropped down and they could stand again, bending their heads. Wooden supports held up the ceiling but further back they had collapsed. Earth and other debris covered the ground. Alex cast the torch beam around and noted nothing he would class as treasure, but amongst the broken pottery some pieces remained intact and there were five wooden caskets of various sizes—three smashed, two intact. Beyond the room was an opening: the entrance to the burial chamber. From appearances, it had been broken into from above. Most of the room was blocked with dirt and rubble.
“Tomb robbers,” Alex said. “Probably in antiquity. Either they deliberately dug through from the temple or the roof collapsed first. Nefertiti’s sarcophagus may be under there, but I somehow doubt it.” He swung the light back into the antechamber. Beautifully painted mur
als covered every inch, telling the same story as before plus traditional images of resurrection and the afterlife. There was also a scene of the Opening of the Mouth ceremony. Normally this would have been performed by the high priest but this was a significant departure for here the priest seemed to be Osiris himself. Alex took more photographs before turning his attention to the caskets.
The first was about two feet long and deep, and about a foot wide. He lifted the heavy lid. Inside were dozens of clay shabtis. The second complete chest was the size of a bed linen box. Inside this were a stack of clay tablets and neatly rolled papyri. He pulled one out, barely able to breathe with excitement. Slowly, he unrolled it, afraid its brittle material would crumble. It didn’t.
He stared at the image drawn on the paper, unable to comprehend what he was looking at: three columns of coloured circles. Against each was written a single word in hieratic script. He snapped a photo then pulled out another and photographed that one. It was confusing. This wasn’t what he’d expected at all. There was no Book of the Dead, but rather evidence of something else entirely. Again and again he noted Osiris featuring. Suddenly the religious significance of what he was looking at dawned on him.
He pulled out another and gagged at what he was looking at.
“Vanessa,” he blurted, “My God, this is about Akhenaten’s tomb!”
He’d been so engrossed in the papyri, he hadn’t wondered what Vanessa was doing. Now he heard her footsteps. Where was she going? He looked around and then his blood froze. The footfall was approaching. Vanessa had backed into a corner and was just standing there.
A light came into the chamber. Joachim stepped in and pointed his gun at Alex.
SIXTY-SIX
Joachim glanced at Vanessa. “Is this all there is?”
“It looks that way,” she answered.
“But it’s enough and we’ve found it,” he said. “This is a great day for the Brotherhood of Levi. This is what we have existed for.”
Map of the Dead: A mystery thriller that's a page turner Page 34
