by Kevin Ashman
‘What is keeping you?’ asked Haji’s voice from above.
‘They’re all gone,’ said Sagira, ‘we have no more stones to add.’
Up above, Haji turned to face the other priest.
‘Chuma, I have failed,’ he said. ‘My calculations were incorrect and I have condemned our king to a place where robbers will abound. My heart is barren and my soul will wander the underworld forever.’ He knelt down and offered his knife to the priest. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘I am not worthy, end my pathetic life as a sacrifice to his memory.’
The priest took the blade and lifted it above Haji’s head but just as he was about to thrust it through his skull, a noise came from behind him and he turned to see a small slab slowly rising in the wall. They both stared in surprise as Sagira crawled into the tomb, covered with dust.
‘You were successful, said Haji, ‘did you find more stones?’
‘No.’ said, Sagira with a smile, ‘but you had better come quickly before Adio falls from his perch.’
----
Chapter Sixteen
Cairo
2014
‘Get in,’ said the man as a car pulled up beside them.
They climbed into the back seat and saw there was another man leaning against the far door. The one with the gun got into the front and the car pulled away into the traffic.
‘Look,’ said Brandon, ‘is there any need for any of this? There’s no harm done and if you let us go, I promise you we can arrange a substantial payment.’
‘Be quiet,’ said the man in the rear and turned to peer out of the back window. For half an hour they drove until they turned up a side track and pulled in beside an old shepherd’s hut. The guard with the gun opened the back door and indicated for them to get out.
‘Into the hut,’ he said looking around him.
Brandon and India did as they were told. Ordinarily Brandon would have considered taking them on but he couldn’t risk India getting hurt. They ducked inside the hut and sat on the indicated seats at the far side of the table.
The man from the rear seat of the car left the building and stood outside the door while the one from the museum switched on half a dozen battery powered lamps around the wall. Finally he sat down opposite India and took a deep breath.
‘Miss Sommers,’ he said eventually, ‘my name is Tarik and I work for the Egyptian Police.’ He paused before stretching out his arm for a handshake, ‘and it is so good to meet you at last.’
----
Brandon and India stared at each other in confusion before turning their attention back to Tarik.
‘I don’t understand,’ said India, ‘I thought you were going to put me under arrest.’
‘Under arrest? No, of course not. I may work for the police but I am no policeman. I am an administrator in the office of Captain Rashid, a dangerous man in the pay of Muburak.
‘You mean, you don’t work for Muburak?’
‘I don’t,’ said Tarik, ‘I am however, involved in an organisation who is interested in keeping an eye on these type of people.’
‘What organisation?’ asked Brandon suspiciously.
‘I will share what I can, Mr Walker,’ said Tarik, ‘but first I must have your solemn vow that what you are about to hear remains between us only.’
Brandon glanced at India.
‘Well that depends on what you have to say,’ said Brandon.
‘My information will open the doors to the things you seek,’ said Tarik. ‘I am willing to share what I know but in return, I seek a payment.’
‘How much?’ asked Brandon.
‘The payment has no monetary value,’ said Tarik, ‘all I ask is that despite what may happen in the next few weeks, you will share what I am about to tell you with no one.’
‘And that’s all?’ asked India.
‘Nothing else,’ said Tarik. ‘I know you are honourable people, all I need is your word.’
‘And if we refuse?’ asked Brandon.
‘Then you are free to leave, though I would suggest fleeing Egypt as soon as possible for Muburak is a very dangerous man.’
‘If we are free to leave,’ said Brandon, ‘why bring us here by gunpoint?’
‘At no time was any gun aimed at you, Mr Walker,’ replied Tarik, ‘and I apologise for if you had the impression that it may be used but it was important to get you away as soon as possible. Muburak and Rashid know where you are staying and have an armed reception committee waiting in your hotel room as we speak. In the circumstances, it seemed the easiest way to get you to come along quickly without going into detailed explanation, was to imply you had no choice. Now you are here, I can assure you, you are amongst friends.’
‘How do we know that?’ asked Brandon, ‘as far as we know, the minute we walk out of that door you could put a bullet in our backs.’
Tarik thought for a few seconds before retrieving his gun from his waistband and handing it over to Brandon.
‘Here,’ he said, ‘take it. Be careful, it is loaded but bearing in mind your background, you don’t need me to tell you that.’
Brandon leaned slowly forward and took the pistol. He released the magazine and saw the 9mm rounds nestled snugly within.
‘Okay,’ he said eventually, placing the gun back on the table, ‘I guess you are telling the truth but we still need to know more about you.’
‘Granted,’ said Tarik, ‘but first I need your word that this stays between us. If I don’t get that promise, then we go our different ways and this meeting never took place.’
‘I don’t know…’ started Brandon but India spoke up, interrupting his sentence.
‘We agree,’ she said.
‘India,’ started Brandon, ‘don’t be so hasty.’
‘Brandon,’ hissed India turning to face him, ‘we have taken this as far as we can. There are two corrupt policemen chasing us across Egypt and if it wasn’t for this man we could be dead right now. I need to know what this is all about otherwise it’s all been in vain.’
‘But…’
‘Brandon,’ shouted India, ‘grow a pair!’
Brandon stared in amazement at India before turning to face Tarik.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘you heard the lady, it looks like we are in.’
‘Good,’ said Tarik, ‘but just for confirmation, do you both swear that what you are about to learn remains between us.’
‘I do,’ said India solemnly and turned to face Brandon.
‘I suppose so,’ he said with a sigh.
‘Brandon,’ shouted India.
‘Okay, okay, I do,’ said Brandon.
‘Good,’ said Tarik, ‘then I’ll begin.’
----
‘First of all,’ said Tarik, ‘I will explain who I am. Like I said, my name is Tarik and I work in the office of Captain Rashid of the Cairo police. The job is okay and pays the bills but the main purpose of my being there is to pick up whatever information I can about the workings of the authorities and any actions carried out by them on behalf of the government.’
‘You mean like a spy?’ asked India.
‘Sort of,’ said Tarik, ‘but not so glamourous. I copy documents, listen to conversations and read e mails, that sort of thing.’
‘And what do you do with that information?’ asked Brandon
‘I pass it on to certain people,’ said Tarik, ‘and they decide what to do with it.’
‘What people?’
‘That is not for you to know but suffice to say, the information is studied and assembled to build a bigger picture about history.’
‘Egyptian history?’
‘Not just Egyptian,’ said Tarik, ‘but all cultures, however, it has to be said that they are all interlinked far more than you possibly are aware of so it’s all the same. What you need to understand, Mr Walker is that the information the media feeds you on a daily basis is nowhere near the truth and my colleagues and I make it our business to expose such things wherever we can. Unfortunately, even when we do, it
is usually labelled as the opinions of conspiracy theorists and dismissed out of hand.’
‘So why do it?’
‘Because it is like the tide, Mr Walker. No matter what obstructions you put before it, eventually the tide will overwhelm them, and in our case, so will the truth.’
‘So who is your organisation?’ said Brandon.
‘We are known as the Rosarian path,’ said Tarik, ‘and are a different branch of the Rosicrucian order.’
‘And who are they?’ asked Brandon.
‘The Rosicrucian order were a group of intellects who came together hundreds of years ago in Germany,’ interrupted India, ‘and was formed by a man who studied under many teachers from around the world. He learned from the mystics and holy people from many cultures and was astounded by the things humanity didn’t know. He gathered those of like mind about him and set about understanding not only the ways of the universe but also the truth of hidden histories. Since then, many splinter groups have broken off and sought enlightenment in different ways. However, I have never heard of the Rosarian path.’
‘Your knowledge is to be commended, Miss Sommers,’ said Tarik, ‘but I expected no less. Your reputation precedes you and we have been aware of you for some time.’
‘Aware of me?’ asked India, ‘what do you mean?’
‘You are garnering a bit of a reputation in historical circles,’ said Tarik, ‘especially in the field of hidden histories. Indeed, our order has considered inviting you into our ranks but that is a discussion for another day. However, I digress, you are of course correct and for your information, the Rosarian path broke away from the parent order many years ago to solely concentrate on the hidden histories, the information suppressed by governments all over the world for whatever reason.’
‘And how many of you are there?’ asked Brandon.
‘Suffice to say our numbers are many, Mr Walker and slowly our influence is permeating even the tightest of groups. We have people in government, museums and scientific institutions all over the world but this is a long game and results are slow to be achieved. Our hope is that one day soon, when there is enough momentum from the public, we can step up with our evidence and show the world the truth about their origins.’
‘Don’t tell me we are talking aliens, here,’ said Brandon with a sneer.
‘No, not Aliens,’ said Tarik, ‘but the truth is no less astonishing.’
‘Then spit it out, Tarik,’ said Brandon, ‘I’m all ears.’
----
Chapter Seventeen
Khufu’s Pyramid
2600 BC
Haji and Chuma removed the body of Khufu from the coffin and placed it on the floor.
‘Forgive me, Majesty,’ mumbled Haji, ‘but such inappropriate behaviour is necessary to secure your eternal security.’ Sagira stared at the corpse while the two priests covered the small shaft with a slab and filled the cracks of the joint with a mixture of stone dust and water. Finally they pushed the sarcophagus back over the top of the slab leaving no trace of any exit from the tomb.
‘It is done,’ said Haji at last, ‘let us take the next step.’
In the chamber below, Adio sat upon the counterweight, waiting for Sagira to reappear from the stairway built into the wall.
‘Sagira,’ he called, ‘make haste for I feel there are spirits of the dead all about me.’
‘We’re coming,’ came the reply and Adio turned to see Sagira emerge from the gloom. Behind her came Haji and Chuma, carrying the wrapped corpse of the king. They placed the mummy carefully on the floor and Haji pulled his knife from his waistband.
‘Get down from the stone, boy.’ he said.
Adio did as he was told and the weight slowly rose, perfectly balanced with the hidden door in the chamber above. As soon as Adio was clear, Haji cut the ropes sending the weight and all of the smaller stones crashing to the floor. In the king’s chamber above, the door settled into place, its location indistinguishable from the permanent blocks around it.
‘Take your candles,’ said Haji, ‘and lead the way.’ He pointed at the far tunnel. ‘The path will be steep and winding but it is safe. Show the way, children of the gods. Light the path of your king, as was prophesised by Osiris.’
Adio and Sagira made their way out of the chamber and followed the tunnel downward. Haji and Chuma followed behind carrying Khufu’s corpse.
For an age they descended through dark narrow tunnels and under low ceilings. Eventually the limestone blocks changed to rock and the passage became much rougher. Dampness covered the walls and soon they could go no further for their way was barred by an enormous cavern flooded by water. Sagira held her candle high but could neither see the ceiling nor the far side.
‘Wait here,’ said Haji and disappeared around into the gloom. A few minutes later he reappeared rowing a small boat. The children climbed aboard and watched the two priests pull against the oars as they guided the boat across the subterranean lake.
‘Sagira,’ asked Adio, ‘do you think these are the halls of Ma’at?’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Sagira, ‘for there are no gods here. I think this is just the first part of a journey.’
‘You are correct, child,’ said Haji as he pulled on the oars, ‘the first step in many and what a journey it is going to be.’
----
Chapter Eighteen
Egypt
2014
‘So, what is this great secret?’ asked Brandon.
‘Why don’t we start by me asking you a question,’ said Tarik, ‘what exactly are you looking for?’
Brandon and India exchanged glances before India answered.
‘Tarik,’ she said, ‘I’m sure you’ll understand that we are a bit nervous about revealing too much yet, we’ve only just met you and are still a bit unsure where this is going.’
‘Then let me make it easier for you,’ said Tarik. ‘You, Miss Sommers are looking for the tomb of Khufu. You have already found some relevant information from somewhere within the jurisdiction of Muburak, which is why he is not happy with you. I don’t know what it is you found but I assume it led you beneath the Sphinx and somewhere beneath the pyramid. I don’t know what you found there but am guessing it wasn’t the tomb of Khufu.’
‘How do you know all that?’ asked Brandon.
‘I have already told you,’ said Tarik, ‘it is my business to know such things and if I know it, you can bet that Rashid knows it too. So, am I correct?’
‘You are,’ said India.
‘And is that the extent of your journey so far?’
‘Almost,’ said India. ‘You are correct about most of it but there is one thing we haven’t mentioned, we found a hidden chamber deep within the bedrock. One that hadn’t been breached yet.’
Tarik’s eyes opened in surprise.
‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘was the tomb empty?’
‘It was except for a sarcophagus,’ said India, ‘but it was not occupied.’
‘And did the chamber contain water?’
‘It did, the casket was at the centre on a man-made island.’
Tarik sat back and stared at the ceiling.
‘This is unbelievable,’ he said eventually.
‘Why?’ asked Brandon.
‘Because, Mr Walker, if I am correct the tomb you found was indeed the authentic tomb of Khufu but there is one more thing that needs to be in place, tell me, was there a small shaft in the ceiling above the casket?’
‘There was,’ said Brandon, ‘why, is that important?’
‘Oh yes,’ said Tarik, ‘very important. You see, the fact that the tomb was empty is actually irrelevant. If I am correct, that chamber is located directly beneath the main king’s chamber albeit several hundred feet down. The shaft we just mentioned probably reaches up to, or at least most of the way to the original king’s chamber, a symbolic link between the both.’
‘But why?’ asked Brandon, what was the point?’
‘Because of the king’s B
a,’ intervened India with understanding dawning in her eyes.
‘What’s a Ba, when it’s at home?’ asked Brandon.
‘In Egyptian folklore,’ said India turning to face him, ‘the mummified body has two spirits, the Ka and the Ba. The Ka remained with the body and needed sustenance to live on, that’s why ceremonial food was placed in the tombs but the Ba was believed to leave the body each day in the form of a hawk and return each night to join with the Ka within the body, thus mimicking the joining of Osiris and Ra in the heavens.’ She looked over at Tarik. ‘Is that correct?’
‘Almost,’ he said, ‘the Egyptian spirit consists of five parts but the Ka and Ba are by far the most important. As the burial would have taken place in the king’s chamber, it would have been assumed that would be the place where the Ba would return. If the body was then taken elsewhere, the Ba could get lost and never return to make the soul complete. To avoid this, they’d put things in place ensuring the Ba knew where to find the body. Sometimes it would be in the form of funerary texts, it could be murals on the wall or, as in this case, a shaft leading directly to the resting place of the body.’
‘But the body wasn’t there,’ said Brandon.
‘I know,’ said Tarik, ‘but I’d wager anything that there was something in that sarcophagus that pointed the way to where he finally rests.’
India glanced at Brandon and the movement was quickly pounced upon by Tarik.
‘I knew it,’ he said, ‘you found something didn’t you, a glyph depicting the location of the tomb.’
‘What’s a glyph?’ asked Brandon.
‘Anything that gives information,’ said India, ‘the ancients did not all have writing so communicated in many different ways. Over the years the various methods have become collectively known as glyphs. It could be pictures, writing, symbols or even geographic structures.’