The Secret of the King's Tomb

by Garrett Drake

  Richard crawled back into bed. He struggled to go back to sleep as visions of ancient tombs—and their treasures—flitted through his mind. Eventually, he drifted off, excited to start a new day.

  Chapter 23

  RICHARD AWOKE A HALF HOUR before he was supposed to meet everyone at the ferry to begin his morning tour. He threw on some clothes, combed his hair, grabbed a pastry from the dining hall, and hustled down to the docks. A visit to see Sherif Nazari would have to wait.

  Vincent Vance was pacing back and forth while studying his pocket watch every few seconds when Richard arrived.

  “Where have you been, Mr. Franks?” Vincent said, shaking his index finger at Richard. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d abandoned me.”

  “It’s Francois—and I would never abandon you without good reason,” Richard said with a wink. “Now, is everyone here and ready to go?”

  Vincent sighed. “All the clients are here and restless. Good luck today—and don’t go running into any caves.”

  “Yes, sir,” Richard said before turning toward the anxious crowd surrounding him.

  Richard clapped his hands together before addressing them.

  “Who’s ready for a little adventure?” he said with a smile. “I know I am.”

  All their hands shot into the air as everyone began talking nervously with each other. Richard caught a few words of several conversations as the patrons studied him closely.

  “. . . and then he broke the thief’s neck.”

  “He threw the woman over his shoulder—and she was not exactly a light load—and raced down the hill, saving her.”

  “We need more strong Americans like him working for Thomas Cook & Son . . .”

  Richard shook his head in disbelief. Through the gossip mill of England’s high society, it only took one night for him to achieve near legendary status. While he didn’t mind the fame, experiencing adventure was his main objective—and he was more than happy to drag along a dozen or so interested tourists.

  * * *

  THE RIDE TO THE Valley of the Kings was uneventful in comparison of that with the Drummonds. Most of the people stayed in line and held their horses at a steady trot.

  While they explored the tombs, Richard decided to hike up to the top of the ridge to see if he could identify which dig site Jabari had led the Germans to. With another permit pulled to open up a spot for Richard’s impending team, there were only two areas being excavated. His cursory glance of the personnel assisting with the closer of the two locations gave him a strong reason to believe the Reichswehr were digging at the spot farther away.

  When he strained to see how the Germans were operating, a man walked outside and glared at Richard. He turned his horse aside and returned to the valley to rejoin with the tourists.

  “Which cave did Lady Drummond go into?” one of the men in the group asked Richard.

  “Now, now,” Richard said, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “We’re here to look at the tombs of ancient kings, not make trouble for ourselves. Besides, I was warned against letting any of you wander into anything other than the designated attractions.”

  Richard looked up and noticed two men from his party venturing near the mouth of one of the caves. He scrambled up the hill and stood in front of them before escorting them back down to the rest of the crowd.

  “I have my gun,” one of the men bellowed. “It’s not like I was in any danger.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but you must abide by our regulations on a Thomas Cook & Son expedition,” Richard said. “It’s for your own safety.”

  After rounding everyone up, Richard led all of the clients back toward the ferry. He was in a slow trot when the gun-toting gentleman rode up next to Richard.

  “Did you really sock it to that Arab?” the Englishman asked.

  Richard furrowed his brow. “I only acted instinctively to save a tourist. Despite the stories that seem to be buzzing about, I never sought out a confrontation.”

  “Why not?” the man said as he grabbed Richard’s bicep and gave it a firm squeeze. “You look like you might be able to handle just about anybody.”

  “I haven’t been to Japan yet, but I hear their sumo wrestlers would be difficult for anyone to defeat.”

  The man chuckled. “I’m sure you could handle them.”

  “Look, Mr.—”

  “Nathaniel Thomas, Earl of Locksley,” the man said as he offered his hand. “But you can just call me Earl Thomas.”

  “Earl Thomas, I appreciate your sense of adventure, I really do. In fact, you have no idea how much I admire your willingness to charge into the unknown and experience it with complete abandonment. But I have to draw a line somewhere. It’s one thing to venture into a new environment with your eyes wide open for the first time to see something new, but it’s another to tempt your fate by rushing headlong into an established danger.”

  “Come on,” the earl said. “You can’t tell me that you didn’t know marauders were using those caves near the tombs as hiding places. I’m sure you heard the warnings, just like we all did. It was one of the first things they told us at the orientation meeting when we boarded the steamer.”

  “Unfortunately, I wasn’t at that meeting,” Richard said. “This is my first time leading groups to the Valley of the Kings, and at no time did I ever perceive we were in such danger until I saw that thief’s dagger at Lady Drummond’s throat.”

  They plodded along for a few moments in silence before Earl Thomas spoke again.

  “What kind of wages do you earn out here?” he asked. “I can’t imagine it would be much.”

  “It’s sufficient for my current needs,” Richard said.

  “What if I offered your five hundred pounds to take me back out to the caves tonight?”

  Richard scowled. “Are you mad? We will be robbed for sure if we return at night. It will be as if we’re inviting the thieves to attack us.”

  “Not if we’re prepared.”

  “Sir, that is not the kind of adventure I seek. I have no intention of dying at the hands of the Arabean Losus for the change in my pockets.”

  “I’ll pay you up front,” Earl Thomas said.

  “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to decline.”

  “You don’t have to give me an answer now. Just think about it. Five hundred pounds.”

  “I have thought about it, and I will again decline,” Richard said. “Now, please fall back into line. We need to pick up the pace if we’re going to get back to the hotel so you can all have your four o’clock tea.”

  * * *

  FOLLOWING JABARI’S DIRECTIONS, Richard went two blocks south and found the mercantile. Richard strolled around the store once, inspecting many of the items for sale. Pickaxes, scarves, ropes, gloves, cargo nets, fuel cans, burlap sacks, mesh sifters, chests, and other sundries related to excavation lined one wall of the shop. The other side was filled with various souvenir items such as porcelain pyramids, glass bottles of Egyptian sand, “magic” carpets, and oil lamps.

  Richard fingered a few of the items as he browsed.

  “Is there anything I can help you with, sir?” the man behind the counter asked.

  Richard pointed at one of the rugs hanging from the wall and winked. “Does that one fly?”

  The man broke into a sly grin. “The ones that actually work are in the storage room.”

  Richard chuckled. “Actually, I’m looking for someone. Sherif Nazari—do you know him?”

  The man shrugged. “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “Who’s asking?”

  “Jabari Gamal sent me here.”

  The man stroked his chin for a moment before nodding. “I will go ask if he’s available.”

  “Thank you,” Richard said.

  While waiting for the man to return, Richard strolled around the store again and made mental notes on all the items he would need if he were to indeed begin digging. His cursory calculations left him dismayed that he wouldn�
�t have enough money to afford all the necessary supplies, even if he could talk Vincent Vance into a small advance. Richard’s final tally was just north of thirty pounds, which was around one hundred U.S. dollars.

  The clerk returned about a minute later and leaned on the counter, eyeing Richard. “I heard you were looking for me.”

  Richard closed his eyes while pinching the bridge of his nose.

  “Is something the matter, sir?” the man asked.

  “Didn’t I just see you?”

  “That was my twin, Abu. We often get confused.”

  Richard gave the man a wary glance. “And you still wear the same clothes?”

  “This is the attire the owner of this mercantile demands that we wear. It can be puzzling at times.”

  “Look, I’m not here to play games. Jabari Gamal sent me to ask for Sherif Nazari, and if you want to make a fool out of me, that’s fine, but I’m leaving now.”

  “Wait, Mr.—”

  “Francois,” Richard said.

  “Mr. Francois, I’m sorry if I offended you. You can’t be too careful in our line of business. There are all kinds of questionable characters who simply want to presume upon our helpful nature in this part of the world. Ever since we escaped the oppressive British regime, we have endured wave after wave of treasure hunters simply wanting to come and pillage our country’s great riches. So pardon my healthy suspicion.”

  “Oddly enough, that’s why I’m here,” Richard said. “To protect one of your country’s great artifacts from being stolen right out from underneath your noses by a less than reputable country these days.”

  “The Germans?” Sherif asked.

  Richard nodded. “It’s up to me—us—to prevent that from happening now.”

  “I saw a few of them milling around the last couple of days and couldn’t imagine it was anything but trouble.”

  “You’re right about that—though it might be more trouble than you could ever imagine. So, here I am. Jabari said you were the best and would know what to do with this.”

  Richard reached for the map but stopped for a moment. “Before I show you this, I need you to show me something.”

  “What do you want to see?”

  “Your left ankle.”

  Sherif scowled and raised his left ankle, which was devoid of any markings.

  “Sorry to have troubled you,” Richard said before hastily heading toward the door.

  However, the man slid over the counter and grabbed Richard by the back of his shirt collar.

  “Hand me the map,” the man said with a growl.

  Chapter 24

  RICHARD STEADIED HIS BREATHING before he reached inside his coat pocket for his dagger. But before he could make another move, he heard a loud thump on the floor. He spun around to see the impostor collapsed in a heap with a knife in his back.

  Richard looked up and threw his hands in the air in surrender once he noticed he was eye to eye with another man.

  “Who was that?” he asked.

  “I was hoping you might be able to tell me, especially since you just killed him.”

  The man chuckled. “For the past couple of minutes, I was hiding in the back, watching everything that was happening through a crack in the door. I knew he was a dangerous man when he started pretending to be me.”

  “I’m Sherif Nazari,” the man said before lifting up his left ankle to reveal the pyramid tattoo Jabari had mentioned.

  Richard offered his hand. “Jonathan Francois—and it truly is a pleasure to meet you.”

  Sherif knelt next to the man and checked for a pulse. “He’s dead now, and we need to get him out of here. We might get some more customers in here any minute. Would you mind helping me remove this impostor from the shop?”

  Richard nodded. Sherif hustled over to the front door and locked it before lugging the dead body into the back of the store with Richard.

  “Do you own this business?” Richard asked between grunts as shuffled toward a stack of pallets.

  Sherif nodded. “I opened it a few years ago to help fill the time between digs. However, I don’t do much of that anymore. This mercantile is far more prosperous with an income I can depend upon.”

  “You seem like a wise businessman.”

  Sherif chuckled. “You might be ascribing too much to my idea. However, I read about the gold rushes in your country and Australia, too. And what I learned was that the people who really got rich were the ones selling supplies to the prospectors. As long as there were foolish people driving their axes into the ground, they needed food and other items to survive. I just took the same principle and applied it here, where the prospectors are world-renowned archeologists with wealthy benefactors. And fortunately at the moment, I have no competitors.”

  “So did you hear everything I told our friend here?” Richard asked, gesturing toward the dead man.

  Sherif nodded. “My brother, Jabari, sent you.”

  “Your brother?” Richard asked.

  “In spirit only, but I would do almost anything he asks me to do. Follow me.”

  Sherif led Richard back to the front of the store and proceeded to wash the floor.

  “How are you going to handle what just happened here?” Richard asked.

  “I’ll tell my real brother, who is the chief of police in Luxor. The man was robbing one of my customers. What else was I supposed to do?”

  Once Sherif finished, he stood and admired his work.

  “It’s like it never happened,” Richard said as he stared at the area devoid of even a trace of blood.

  Sherif patted Richard on the shoulder. “And it’s not the first time either.”

  Heading toward the back, Sherif strode quickly. “So what exactly does Jabari want me to help you do?”

  Richard glanced around the room once more to make sure they were alone. Once satisfied that no one else could possibly hear or see them, Richard reached into his pocket and produced Jabari’s hand-drawn map.

  “What’s this?” Sherif asked. “This doesn’t seem like any archeological map I’ve ever seen.”

  Richard shrugged. “It’s what Jabari gave me. The original was written in code by Dr. Miller.”

  “Dr. Thurston Miller?” asked Sherif.

  “That’s the one. The Germans murdered him in order to get the coded map.”

  “But let me guess: There was no cipher?”

  Richard chuckled. “How long have you been doing this?”

  “I was a teenager when Dr. Howard Carter first started excavating in the Valley of the Kings. He was looking for volunteers, and I jumped at the opportunity. Once you uncover an ancient artifact, it’s almost like a fever that overtakes you. I couldn’t get enough of the work.”

  “But it’s lost some of its luster since you don’t dig anymore?”

  Sherif shrugged. “I suppose. I got married, had a few kids, and then the Egyptian Antiquities Society got involved in the digs and regulated everything so heavily. I guess you could say it stole my joy for searching for these relics.”

  “But you’ll still help me with this venture?”

  “If Jabari believes this is that important, I will do whatever you need me to do.”

  “He said you’re the best.”

  Sherif shrugged. “Maybe the most experienced, at least of anyone around here that you’d be able to hire on such short notice. But if Jabari wants to say that about me, I won’t dispute him. He’s been coming to the valley many years.”

  “I don’t care if you’re second best or the worst dig expert,” Richard said. “What I do care about is stopping the Germans from sneaking out of Egypt with a bounty of treasures. And if you can help me prevent that from happening, I’ll be most grateful.”

  “If by stopping the Germans you mean uncovering a tomb before they do, then I’ll be able to assist you. I’m not exactly handy with many modern weapons.”

  “Then it’s a deal?” Richard said, thrusting out his hand.

  With his arms still crossed,
Sherif didn’t move. “There’s still the matter of my fee to negotiate.”

  “What kind of fee are we talking about?”

  “One hundred British pounds per week.”

  Richard’s eyes bulged. “One hundred pounds?”

  “Plus twenty pounds for all of my men.”

  “How many men do you need?”

  “My usual crew size is ten men.”

  “Are you mad?” Richard asked. “Three hundred pounds. I don’t even have twenty dollars to my name. Where am I going to get that kind of money?”

  “You’ll also need to pay for supplies, which will cost approximately fifty pounds.”

  Richard rubbed his temples and considered an alternative solution. “What if I let you take a percentage of the profits from the treasure we find.”

  Sherif chuckled. “That’d be beyond foolish. Do you know how many times people have sold me the promise of getting a portion of the profits from a dig? Honestly, I’ve lost count. And I’d be far poorer than I am today if I’d agreed to chase dreams of wealth instead of building it by demanding a fair wage for my help.”

  Richard sighed. “I’m afraid this has been a mistake. I can’t afford this venture—and unfortunately the world can’t afford for these soldiers to return home having looted one of the ancient Egyptian king’s tombs.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time some European country raided Egypt’s sacred burial chambers.”

  “You don’t seem bothered by this.”

  “Mr. Francois, I am a businessman, not a philanthropist. It’s unfortunate that Jabari didn’t warn you about my fee, but I’m afraid I can’t help you if you can’t pay me and my men a fair wage. We have the expertise to find the tomb if it truly exists, not to mention that I know how to read that map, something you can’t do.”

  “This feels awfully underhanded, if you ask me.”

  “Perhaps Jabari simply neglected to tell you. I’m sure the oversight wasn’t intentional.”

  Richard furrowed his brow. “Intentional or not, that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t just wave my hand and conjure up that kind of money. I barely have enough to live off of myself, nor would I be able to get anyone to wire me that amount of money before it’s too late—and Jabari is exposed.”