The Ka

by Mary Deal

  “We should have listened to Chione about not needing sensors,” Clifford said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “We wouldn't be wasting time on soundings.”

  “In the interim,” Dr. Withers said. “I've decided to have both the First and Second Chambers cleared.”

  “Agreed,” Kendra said. “Since they've been exposed to fresher air, the mummies might begin to deteriorate.”

  At original inspection, many mummies were found wrapped haphazardly; the cloths in which they were bundled showed varying stages of decay. Even the utmost care in mummification was unpredictable. Rameses II's Queen Nefertari had immediately crumpled into dust as her sarcophagus was opened. So time was of the essence since the tiny mummies had lain somewhat exposed since ancient grave robbers first made entry. When the hole in the ceiling backfilled and closed off it offered some protection. Now that the mummies would be brought out into the sunlight and strong climate, deterioration would proceed.

  “What intrigues me as well,” Dr. Withers said, “are those strange glyph interpretations Chione's been coming up with.”

  No one said a word. Their eyes glazed over. They would have to wait for final analysis to form opinions on that.

  The retaining wall above Randy's hole was finished. Rubble had been vacuumed up exposing the cavity ancient robbers used when entering the Second Chamber. Thick wooden timbers were placed on top of the hole at the ceiling level to keep more rubble from sliding down. Determination would later be made as to how to close the hole permanently.

  Naeem was to oversee the clerks and laborers assigned to Clifford for tagging and photographing in place and removing artifacts from the First Chamber. Quaashie was assigned to the crew helping Kendra with removal of the children's mummies from the Second Chamber. Both local men were experienced in the use of preservation chemicals necessary to be applied before the artifacts could be shipped to Cairo.

  Kendra later reported that all the little ones would exit the tomb wrapped in thick layers of gauze bandage. Too, the time honored method of applying hot melted paraffin over fragile and decaying objects to hold them together saved many an artifact, as well as mummy wrappings, from crumbling.

  A bucket brigade hand-carried rubble out of the Second Chamber and had it hoisted up through the shaft. Each load would be sifted and searched for any relic or broken piece.

  Outside, a great shadow drifted over the sifting bins. Noise from the ever-enlarging crowd of onlookers dropped to nearly no sound at all. Then everyone was yelling and pointing upwards. Like the others, Chione craned her neck. A gigantic hot air balloon decorated with Egyptian symbols drifted overhead.

  “That's too low for comfort,” Dr. Withers said angrily. He shook a finger in the direction of the balloon.

  “Too much Western influence,” Chione said under her breath.

  Then the mummies were being brought out. In the distance from somewhere among the throng of locals and visitors alike, the plaintiff wail of mourners for the souls of those little ones drifted up the hill.

  “I find it strange,” Chione said. “That news of everything we do travels so quickly.”

  “What in particular?” Dr. Withers asked.

  “The minute we start to bring out the bodies, the wailing begins. It's as if some of the people were prepared for what will happen next.”

  Despite soundings turning up no new findings, methodic Dr. Withers needed to assure himself that everyone followed the best scheme of things. Remaining members of the team readied themselves for re-entry. Again they donned facemasks and gloves since decaying mummies were being moved.

  While the first two chambers were being emptied, the rest of the team translating the hieroglyphs and art might provide clues to the whereabouts of the final resting place. Reading began at the front of the passageway as tiny remains made re-entry into the world.

  In the passageway outside the First Chamber, Chione again smelled that heady perfume that brought with it a vision so bold it made her feel limp.

  A procession of Ancients. Each wore the regal uniform of a striped headdress and white linen kilts. Only royal workers now allowed touching the mummified children. Workers' images intermittent in the dim flicker of oil lamps, bringing in tiny freshly wrapped mummies for positioning inside the Second Chamber, their final resting place. The Ancient worker's chants resonated.

  The pad and pen slowly slipped from her hands. Chione stood motionless, hearing the forgotten language. She stared down the passageway. Her heart raced. Her knees almost buckled. Aaron stooped to retrieve her writing materials. Despite the facemask hiding the rest of his expression, he looked straight into her eyes with a look so profound she could only guess he had sensed something too. She turned to the wall, pretended to study the glyphs and took time to gather her thoughts. Finally able to return her attention to the others, she said, “When I looked at these reliefs earlier, I found something of a mystery. A big one.”

  “Then let's put our learned heads together,” Dr. Withers said.

  “History in this tomb is coded in spells. Magic symbols abound. I stick to our original theory that the person buried here was a courtier or priestess whose life was steeped in magic and mysticism.”

  “What else?” Dr. Withers asked.

  “Follow me as I read our way down the passage. And prepare yourself,” she said, hinting at possible surprises. “The figures on these walls confirm something we discovered on Tauret's golden statue.”

  “Spill it, Chione,” Clifford said, poking his head out of the First Chamber. “I can't stand the suspense.”

  “Be quiet, Anubis,” she said. “Or I'll turn you into a statue.”

  “As long as I'm real gold,” he said, bending his knees and assuming Anubis' pose of sitting with hands on his thighs and chin stuck out.

  “Will you two—!”

  “Sorry, Dr. Withers,” Chione said quickly, smiling as Clifford disappeared. “What I've found is a history that continues to the doorway of the Pillared Hall.”

  “Then what?” Aaron asked. “Stops?”

  “Not stops, changes,” Chione said. “Changes that coincide with the name `Aten' being obliterated on the statue.”

  “Ah-ha!” Aaron said. “Maybe something drastic did happen in this person's life.”

  “Relative to the belief system the person followed,” Bebe said.

  “Exactly,” Chione said. “But before we get into the change that might have taken place, there's much more to understand.” She pointed out a number of women in one mural who looked to be in the first trimester of pregnancy. “These are not rounded full-hipped Amarnian type ladies of the Akhenaten and Nefertiti era. Our lady was a priestess or educated specialist working with women's issues, as we call them today.”

  “Specifically?”

  “Fertility, I believe, generalizing into monitoring pregnancies and childbirth, even counseling husbands. Just like today's midwife.”

  “Like that spell in the First Chamber,” Dr. Withers said. He thought a moment then repeated from memory, “ `Blacken your face with Hapi's mud. Like farmer's fields, new life will bud.' ”

  “One of her magical treatments?” Aaron asked.

  “Evidently it worked,” Bebe said, “According to that mural, the woman with the blackened face was definitely pregnant.” While Dr. Withers and Aaron studied a row of glyphs, Bebe leaned close to Chione and whispered, “If this priestess worked with women's issues, I wish she'd cast a spell and end my menopausal malaise.”

  Chione smiled secretly. “Now here's a surprise,” she said, returning attention to the others. “These murals depict various other patients—if we can call them that—along with the life in general of the woman interred here. It was a good life, and she worships the Aten.”

  “The symbol we found being removed,” Dr. Withers said.

  “So this further narrows down the time frame,” Chione said. “If Tauret worshipped the Aten, and suddenly it was wrong to do so, that would account for her changing her
faith, as we call it.”

  “That fits,” Bebe said. “Tauret's life ended during the time of Tutankhamon, specifically, when the god Amon was being restored.”

  “Exactly,” Dr. Withers said. He could barely contain himself and danced around bouncing fists at his sides and singing, “Good, good, good!”

  Chione pointed out specific symbols. “Remember inside the First Chamber about the spell being cast, `till all of time has passed'? Listen to this one.” She pointed to a trail of glyphs, again sounded out a few of the markings, and then translated them to English.

  Down this corridor no living walk

  no sound in these halls creak

  Only Anubis inside doth stalk

  till Khentimentiu speak

  “Does that mean Clifford is the reincarnation of Anubis?” Aaron asked. No one could keep from laughing.

  “Refresh my memory about Khentimentiu,” Bebe said, ready with her pen.

  “God of the dead's destiny,” Chione said. “Thought to be the original god of the Predynastic peoples.”

  “That god is seldom seen,” Dr. Withers said. “What do you suppose he's doing in here?”

  “I'm sensing something about all of this,” Aaron said. He had that glossy look in his eyes again.

  “In the same way Chione does?”

  “Maybe not,” he said, looking doubtful. “My intuition tells me these spells imply an expectation that someone would again walk here.”

  “As if Khentimentiu expects the dead to rise?” Dr. Withers asked, showing some disbelief.

  Just then, with Bebe's back to the First Chamber and the others in front of her, Clifford crept up from behind, breathed heavily through his face mask and placed a slow hand on Bebe's shoulder while moaning low. She screamed as they all howled with laughter.

  “Sorry,” Clifford said. “It's more fun out here with the living.” Then he disappeared again.

  Chione led the others down the passageway, past walls filled with gloriously painted reliefs, breathed in the heady perfume, and felt her ancient sandaled feet on the smooth stone. She slowed and studied a scene. “We'll have to verify this,” she said, pointing to an image and knowing she was about to surprise them again. “I believe this woman is known today as Ankhesenamun, King Tut's Queen.”

  “That is her,” Aaron said. He drew close and studied the cartouche near the image. “In this tomb, her name's written as Ankhesenpa-Aten.”

  “Yes,” Chione said. “So her name changed from Aten about the same time period because today's scholars read her as Ankhesenamun. Amun is a modern day derivative of Amon.”

  “Plus, she's sitting in a royal chair,” Bebe said as she pointed with her pen.

  Chione remembered Ankhesenpa's face, knew it well, but did not remember how she had become so familiar with that Queen's image, not having paid undue attention to her in any history studies.

  “Look what Tauret's doing,” Dr. Withers said, pointing. He bounced up and down impatiently. “She's combing the Queen's hair!”

  “The Queen's hand maiden?” Bebe asked. “We have reason to believe Tauret was a high priestess, a courtier. Is this how?”

  “Why would a hand maiden be lavished so many riches at burial?” Dr. Withers asked.

  “Remains to be seen,” Aaron said. He sounded as if he wanted to keep something secret for a while. Just how much had he been able to intuit?

  Chione led them next into the Pillared Hall. “Tauret's private life is here,” she said, gesturing to the walls. “Rows and rows of glyphs express familial bliss. That woman near you, Bebe, could be Tauret's mother.”

  “This symbol of destiny in the cartouche over the mother's head,” Aaron said, “must represent her name.”

  “Mes… khen… et,” Bebe said, reading after pulling a small booklet from her booklet.

  “Meskhenet,” Chione said. Suddenly she felt another chill. “Mother.”

  “This man, then,” Dr. Withers said, “might be her father. His cartouche translates to—”

  “Umi,” Bebe said. “Her father's name was Umi, meaning life.”

  “Bebe, you're really good at this,” Chione said.

  “These next scenes make Umi look like he was… Pharaoh's clothier,” Aaron said. “A noble! That explains Tauret's high standing.” The expression on Aaron's face said he knew something more.

  Chione called their attention to nearby busts of a man and woman resting on neighboring columns. “Mom and Dad,” she said, in a proud voice similar to how she might introduce her family. Everyone scampered back and forth wherever attention was directed, careful to sidestep ceiling plaster still laying on the floor. A strong resemblance was found between the faces on the walls, the features of the sculptures, and the face on the golden statue of the priestess.

  “Now look at this,” Chione said, again calling them back to a mural. “This Aten symbol, Tauret's history as Tauret-Aten stops abruptly. See? Another cartouche.” That cartouche had also been obliterated. Dr. Withers pulled at his mustache. Chione waited as the others inspected the glyphs, trying not to miss anything but neglecting to look farther than the ends of their noses. Finally, she said, “You're all missing someone who's standing right in front of you.”

  They milled around. Suddenly from the back of the chamber, Dr. Withers exclaimed, “Would you look at this?”

  They went to view the pillar at which he pointed. “That is Amon-Ra,” Bebe said. “The tall feathered headdress with the sun on it. That's Amon-Ra.”

  “He wasn't on any of the reliefs out in the passageway,” Dr. Withers said.

  “Exactly,” Chione said. The passageway murals depicted Tauret's life as a priestess and handmaiden to Ankhesenpa in the days of Aten before the restoration of Amon began. “Tauret must have died at the height of the restoration. The walls and such, in the process of being changed, were left unfinished.”

  “Amazing,” Dr. Withers said. “Now, let's put the pieces together.” He paced slowly as the others waited. “Would someone contribute something here?” he asked finally. “This place is as silent as a tomb.”

  Once Bebe stopped laughing, she said, “Tauret's childhood occurred during the Aten period. After she's involved with Pharaoh's family, that's where the obliteration begins.”

  “It stands to reason that when Tutankhamon came to power and was in the process of restoring the old gods,” Chione said, “Tauret and her family, being part of his court, would also convert.” Tauret's tomb was already in the process of being built. The Pillared Hall was only half finished by the time Amon-Ra was being reinstated.

  “Did they plan that far ahead?” Aaron asked. “How did they know she would be needing a tomb during what looks to be the prime of her life?”

  “And if she began as a commoner, why these elaborate digs?” Dr. Withers asked.

  “Digs?”

  “Wait, there's more to consider,” Chione said. “Was Tauret, the priestess of childbirth—if that's what she was—brought to Ankhesenpa because the Queen bore two stillborns?”

  “Good question,” Aaron said. “Was Tauret to work her magic?”

  The more they found the more questions popped up.

  “It'll take time to sort,” Dr. Withers said.

  Silence came again as they spread out in different directions examining the murals. Then Aaron called out from the far end of the chamber. “Hey, everyone, here's Queen Tyi in relief.”

  They rushed to his side. “That is her,” Bebe said.

  “She's my favorite,” Chione said. “Of all the Queens, she's the one I really have an affinity for.”

  “What is it about her?”

  “I have no idea,” Chione said. “I remember reading how she was well loved, respected, even in death when they finally found her in that cache of royal mummies.” When found, Queen Tyi's chest had long before been ripped open, ravaged by tomb robbers for the embedded scarab and jewels. “Still, she possessed this majestic aura.” Chione was silent a moment, and then asked, “Haven't you ever
felt empathy with someone and you didn't know why?” The others were attentively silent as Chione caught herself expressing emotion, which she seldom did.

  Finally, Dr. Withers asked, “Is that similar to Clifford's affinity for Anubis?”

  “I don't know who's worse,” Bebe said, laughing. “You or Clifford.”

  They continued to inspect the walls. Nearly every bit of space had been carved or painted. Yet, not one section so much as hinted of a possible disguised entry. “I suggest,” Dr. Withers said, “that we tend to matters topside until such time as these chambers are cleared. Maybe passage to the Burial Chamber is through the back of one of those crowded Annexes.”

  “Quite possible,” Aaron said.

  “Might be beyond the pantry,” Dr. Withers said, snickering. “I'd want to be near food if I expected to live forever.”

  “You men and your stomachs,” Bebe said.

  One last look at the glorious furnishings and the walls with yet to be disclosed secrets, and they began to leave.

  “Aaron,” Chione said quietly, pulling him aside. “Do you think Dr. Withers will let me stay in here?”

  “Stay? Now that everyone's leaving, you mean?” He shrugged. “Why not? You're a professional.”

  “No, during the night.”

  He leaned toward her and quietly asked, “You want to stay in here by yourself… all night?”

  Why should that seem like such a surprise? She realized immediately that she should not have mentioned it to Aaron. Now he would want to stay too. “Just for a while,” she said. “I want to listen to the whimpering.”

  “I haven't heard it anymore.” He stuck his notepad under his arm and his hands into his pockets, as if to keep from touching her as they shared a private conversation.

  “But I have.”

  “When?” he asked, seeming disappointed. A hand came out of his pocket to tap his chest. “Why haven't I heard?”

  “It happens all the time, Aaron,” she said. “I can't make an issue of it. The others wouldn't understand.”