The Ka

by Mary Deal

  Everyone spoke at once. Except for Kendra, who looked around from time to time, clearly wishing to find her husband. Helen and Jibade sat proudly. Helen had tears in her eyes. The musicians were energized. The oud player strummed a tune in the background. Everyone quieted and looked to her, evidently waiting for her to sing again. The mood was most conducive to disclosing a bit of information, having captured their attention inadvertently.

  “Actually, Aaron and I aren't meditating this evening,” Chione said. “So we could discuss some of the messages of the glyphs.” The others ate in silence, leisurely, yet attentive. Music continued softly. “The overall tone of this burial is as we already know. Tauret was a priestess, involved in magic and spells, mostly having to do with women's problems though men seem included. It would seem she caused women to become pregnant when they couldn't normally conceive.”

  “We've verified that,” Bebe said. “She extensively used pyramids in her practice too.”

  Chione looked to Aaron whose expression questioned. She was not about to disclose anything other than what was shown on the walls, and hoped he would not let anything slip. “Something else I'm pretty sure of,” she said, continuing cautiously. “About the golden statue?”

  “An Amarnian type figure,” Bebe said. “From Akhenaten's era.”

  “Yes, that one,” she said. “I don't believe that much gold would be consigned to a commoner.”

  “Nor all the other golden relics and jewels,” Dr. Withers said.

  “Tauret was in high favor with Pharaoh,” Chione said. That was the message gleaned from the art on the chair alone. “My belief is that Tutankhamon planned to marry her.”

  Everyone seemed surprised, but concurred.

  “Maybe so,” Dr. Withers said. “That would explain why he was leading her to sit in his presence.”

  “Yes, that chair was to be her throne,” Chione said. “The story shown in the art on the backrest was the crafter's way of saying they were soon to be married.

  “Tauret was to become a minor queen?” Kendra asked. “Why would Pharaoh marry a commoner?”

  Bebe took a bite from Kenneth's fork, and then fanned her mouth to tame the flavor. “Don't forget,” she said, still fanning, “Tauret's parents were courtiers.” She gulped a couple swallows of her drink. “What we don't know is whether they gained favor before or after Pharaoh took a liking to Tauret.”

  “Do you find anything to verify your theory?” Dr. Withers asked.

  “Many of the glyph phrases are common,” Chione said. “Not a lot of solid facts, except that even this woman's beliefs make history.”

  “What do you think she was trying to say?”

  “Twice we found references to Pharaoh wanting children,” Chione said as Bebe gestured and nodded in agreement. “Since his Queen Ankhesenpa bore two stillborns, it was accepted practice that he would attempt to have children with someone else.” Everyone stopped eating. All eyes were upon her. They could not learn enough. The entire team was into this way beyond professional motive and personal curiosity. “Tauret's thoughts, written as they were, say she was dreaming of giving Pharaoh a son. Much like young girls today dream of having a baby with some guy they're in love with.” Chione fidgeted and could not look up. The idea hit too close to home. She wished she could give Aaron a son. She sighed and withdrew a small writing tablet from her pocket.

  “So Tut would take a minor queen,” Dr. Withers said. “Stands to reason.”

  “If Tauret was near the young age of Tutankhamon,” Kendra said. “Why did she die? Of a broken heart?”

  Marlowe touched the side of her head as if her headache might be pounding. “It is said King Tut may have been murdered.”

  “Where does it say that Tauret died around the time Tut did?” Kendra asked. “If that can be proven, maybe it was suicide, over his demise.”

  “Nothing like that shows up on the walls yet,” Bebe said.

  “If she committed suicide,” Aaron said. “No one's found hieroglyphs anywhere in Egypt documenting someone having taken their own life.”

  “You know something,” Bebe said thoughtfully. “I have to say it again. This burial took place in rapid order, in a hurry, just like at Tut's tomb. Why?”

  “What were the signs in Tut's tomb?” Kenneth asked. He ripped off a shred of aysh and used it to scrape around the inside of his bowl.

  “The most convincing,” Bebe said, “was that his quartzite sarcophagus seemed carved for someone else. The granite lid didn't match or fit and all the shrines were haphazard, not placed facing appropriate directions.”

  “The coffinettes found inside the canopic jars,” Kendra said. “They show inscriptions of having been made for Smenkhkare.”

  “Maybe suicide was a disgrace in those days,” Bebe said. “Maybe no one cared for her afterward, if that's what she did. If she was involved with Tut and they murdered him for worshipping the Aten, no one would care about a concubine who believed the same religion, whether or not she was in the process of converting.”

  That was food for thought. Even the musicians seemed astonished. They had worked alongside the team making discoveries and heard their speculations.

  Again, everyone spoke at once. This was an exciting theory, albeit speculative. Chione knew the group's interest had wandered away from what she was trying to convey. Conversation focused on the fact that the First Chamber had been neat and orderly. They could not detect the initial state of the Second Chamber due to the collapse. The Pillared Hall looked planned, but in the three annexes everything looked thrown in. Complete wall etchings existed inside the Pillared Hall although some were not painted. Some of the glyphs in the passageway were in the process of being reworked, as well as glyphs on some of the art pieces in the Pillared Hall. The Aten was being restored to Amon, yet not completed.

  “The way we can assume there was a hurry is to remember the spells Bebe and I logged.” Chione said. She hesitated, waiting for someone else to put the pieces together and comment.

  “You mean,” Jibade said, breaking his silence. “That the spells have cloaked meanings?”

  “They could have,” Chione said. “We'll learn more once we find the Burial chamber.” The sun was sinking fast. She turned the notebook toward the flickering firelight in order to find the page she wanted.

  “Have you found any other rubrics, evidence to lead you to this way of thinking?” Jibade asked.

  “Here's a new one,” Chione said, studying her notes.

  Spend not one night below

  the Underworld lives

  intruders must go.

  “Oh, my,” Bebe said. “When did you find that one?”

  “A few days back. I was trying to decipher a pattern out of all the writings before mentioning it.”

  “Was that verse warning us not to sleep in the tomb, which we've already done?” Marlowe asked.

  “Evidently not,” Chione said. “Since nothing bad happened to any of us.”

  “Any other messages?”

  “Try this one,” she said.

  Mourn not those

  in the Afterlife,

  for they live

  without any strife.

  Dr. Withers put his fork down and poked a familiar finger in the air. They waited for him to finish chewing and pull his thoughts together. Then he asked, “Could you be wrong, maybe a little off in your translations?”

  “Not unless Champollion's method of deciphering is faulty,” Chione said.

  “Ah, yes, Jean-Francois Champollion,” Dr. Withers said. “Can't negate what he proved about interpreting hieroglyphs.”

  “What do all the spells mean?” Kenneth asked, chewing while he spoke. Bebe jabbed him in the ribs.

  “Everything points to belief in not just the Afterlife,” Aaron said cautiously. “But toward reincarnation as well.” Chione was glad Aaron was the one who offered that information.

  “Now, c'mon, Aaron,” Kenneth said. “That's stretching it a bit, don't you think?”
r />   “Everything about this tomb is far from ordinary,” Marlowe said.

  With the irregularity of the spells, the magic, the pyramids, why couldn't anything else that went along with it be entertained, at least till they learned more. “I believe that's why the god Khentimentiu shows up a lot,” Chione said. “He's god of the dead's destiny.”

  “Yes,” Kendra said. “What was that other spell about Khentimentiu?”

  Aaron quoted it.

  Down this corridor no living walk.

  No sounds in these halls creak.

  Only Anubis inside doth stalk

  till Khentimentiu speak.

  “See there? What does it mean if Anubis is hanging around the hall? God of embalming? Guardian of hidden and secret things? His job was supposed to be finished after mummification.” Kendra said. “Then Khentimentiu, god of the dead's destiny, is to speak. Why?” She looked around but did not wait for a reply. “To tell us of an unfinished destiny for the mummy? Is that why Anubis is hanging around? Because someone is to live again—reincarnate—before they go into the Underworld once and for all?” That was a mouthful for Kendra. The theory did have some mystique involved, after all, and Kendra did not seem afraid to examine it.

  “That's re-e-ally stretching it,” Dr. Withers said.

  “This will take some figuring out,” Aaron said.

  The belief system of the Ancients of that time period needed to be examined with an open mind if they were to understand.

  “The spells mean something,” Kendra said. “How about that other one?”

  Beware, two who would enter

  the spell is cast to last

  till all of time has passed.

  “Which two would enter?” Kendra asked. “This refers to future life here.”

  “You're going too far afield with this,” Dr. Withers said.

  That was all Chione intended to tell them for now. Their thoughts were focused in the right direction but in no way was she going to disclose her dreams of being Tauret and making love to Pharaoh. Especially since everyone knew Aaron had dreamed of himself as King Tut. As real as visions were for her, the rest of the group was not ready to hear of royal trysts. Somehow everything would be revealed to the rest of them at the proper time, perhaps with the help of the ancient gods.

  Later, as everyone parted for a good night's rest, Aaron approached her looking a little perturbed. “I thought you were going to tell them Tauret was pregnant.”

  “The way the conversation went, they'd heard enough,” she said. “Don't mention Tauret's pregnancy, Aaron. That's not something I want known until I'm sure. We found nothing in the glyphs about her condition.”

  “Why not tell? Surely we can trust the team.”

  “Because, Aaron, I believe Tauret and Tut had to keep their affair subdued for a while. So until I get a message from Tauret to divulge her secrets, I don't think I'll be shocking anybody with unproven speculation.”

  “Okay,” he said, sighing. “That can wait a bit more.” Turning to leave, he looked back and smiled gently. “You were spectacular. I didn't know you could sing.”

  “I didn't either,” she said quietly.

  He stopped in his tracks, turned back again. “You've never sung like that before?”

  “Not like that.”

  “You mean you were entranced right in front of everyone, taking on Tauret's characteristics, and no one noticed?”

  “No one would understand. A lot of things must go unsaid.”

  Later, Chione lay on her cot, crossed her arms over her chest, and mentally recited Tauret's admonishment and her own promise. Her last thought before falling asleep was to wonder why Tauret had shown her a scarab placed on top of the mummy on the outside of the wrappings. Tradition dictated amulets and other valuables be embedded between layers of wrappings and inside the mummy's body cavity.

  32

  Chione and Aaron peered at the crowd from behind the double fly of the cook tent. “From the day the paparazzi got wind of Rita's demise,” Chione said, “reporters from around the world have taken it upon themselves to plague the site.” Now that the sand had stopped blowing, the curious returned in droves.

  “Too many visitors was the reason Dr. Withers refused to take time off like the rest of us,” Aaron said, shaking his head. “He's the one the dignitaries want to talk to. It's left him little time to scrutinize incoming offers. He wants to review all of them in order to avoid being backed into a corner.”

  “Before committing to the pressures of the Yagos?”

  The directors inadvertently put a hold on further work until their arrival. A faxed message said they would remain in Cairo until the most recent shipment of artifacts was uncrated at the Madu. Dr. Withers seemed, at times, ready to pull out his hair. Endless days of biding time took a toll while engineers continued taking soundings on the hillock. Each negative report drove home Chione's warnings of failure with the usage of sensors. Dr. Withers grew fatigued pretending everything was going according to plan. Yet, how long could he hide not having found the burial chamber once the directors arrived?

  As if needing to stir up some activity, he ordered sleeping rooms be completed for the directors. In a flurry of activity not seen in weeks, a crude flat roofed mud brick structure, two rooms with a common wall, went up before nightfall. No windows were built in, just one front and one back doorway in each room for ventilation. Those would be covered with swatches of heavy cloth for privacy. Two single woven cots would be placed inside, one against each side wall in the tiny cubicles. The shacks would have time to bake dry in the penetrating sun before the intended occupants arrived.

  Messages came in from all over the world asking when the Burial Chamber would be opened. Chione, too, felt frustrated. Neither could she, capable in ways transcending conventional methods, come up with the location.

  “I've let everybody down,” she said to Aaron. The grand opportunity to prove herself and the legitimacy of her abilities was at stake.

  “Never mind that you were instrumental in how we've progressed so far,” Aaron said testily.

  Not finding the Burial Chamber left them open to ridicule. “The pressure's on,” Chione said. “I'm feeling every bit of it.” Yet she knew she needed to stay in control. Anxiety disturbed her concentration.

  That evening as she and Aaron prepared for their quiet time in the Pillared Hall, Chione asked, “Do you mind if my parents sit with us?”

  “Why?” he asked, showing much surprise.

  “Because I want Jibade present.”

  “What can he contribute that we can't learn by ourselves?”

  “I think four of us would be stronger together.”

  Aaron looked frustrated and she understood. Here he was, finally able to share with her again and now she asks to invite others into their precious time together. She felt empathy for Aaron and longed to show him she was actually having strong feelings for him again, but now was not the time for personal interests. Any emotion other than focusing on the Burial Chamber would prove too disconcerting.

  “Maybe you and he should sit alone,” Aaron said. “You did well at Queen Tyi's.”

  “Aaron, in case you hadn't noticed, you're a part of this and there's no turning back.”

  “Perhaps not.” He shrugged, looked dubious. “Maybe all you need is a strong opposite. Surely Jibade is more adept than I.”

  If Chione had not known how successful Aaron was in his career and the rest of his life, he would have seemed meek at that moment. He had built a great career and was confident in all aspects of his endeavors. In his mind, the only thing he lacked was her presence. His readiness to relinquish his place beside her at a crucial moment, despite balking momentarily, was actually another example of his manhood. He would do just that, step aside, so as not to be an obstacle.

  She smiled sincerely. “You need to be here. Trust me.” He would, because she knew how much he wished their lives could be forever entwined.

  “All right,” he sai
d, standing.

  She stood too. “I'll go invite them.”

  “I'll go.”

  “No, I can go,” she said, rushing ahead of him. The moment began to sound like a game. They both laughed. He had hold of her arm and pulled her back. She turned quickly to face him and they bumped smack together looking into each other's eyes.

  Both his hands were on her arms. He pushed her away slightly, still staring hard, momentarily stunned at their closeness. “I-I prefer to be the one climbing out of the shaft in the dark,” he said finally. He did not let go immediately, just stood looking into her eyes.

  Helen did not come into the tomb, did not wish to climb down in the semi-darkness. Chione sat in her usual place. Aaron hesitated. Chione motioned for them to sit, and they did. Then Jibade stood again and motioned. “Sit there,” he said to Aaron while pointing beside her so they would form a triangle.

  “Why?” Aaron asked.

  “This time you both have the opportunity to face north,” he said. “I'll be your battery for the energy.”

  He evidently knew much more than Chione realized. Once they sat in place, Jibade closed his eyes and began to chant a prayer in Arabic as a hint of incense wafted.

  Soon, Aaron slumped. Then Jibade quieted and a great peace came over her as a scene opened out inside her mind.

  Lush scenes of Ancient Egypt. Being fitted for leather sandals with jeweled straps, a jeweler sealing a lock of Pharaoh's hair inside the back of an amulet, a trek to an oasis.

  On and on the scenes paraded, each one beckoning, drawing her in.

  Mixing potions, casting spells. Surrounded by thankful women swollen with child. Pyramid forms standing over herbs used in prescriptions. A familiar hand touching hers—

  Quite unexpectedly, Chione emerged out of the trance. How disappointing! Her heart ached for more. She yearned to re-enter that ancient time. Nothing happened. Please, she begged silently, we're so close. Still nothing. Her mind began to wander over the glorious scenes she had just witnessed; life in Ancient Egypt and curiously, pyramids being used as she presently utilized them to preserve food and other items. Yet, where was the man who had been present in the other dreams and visions? What made her snap back to consciousness?