“The statue is almost as white as Dr Margretti is,” said Kate, breaking Alex’s thoughts.
“We only need Cleopatra to appear and we will have a full set,” he mumbled under his breath.
“What was that, Alex?”
“Oh, nothing, I was just thinking out loud.” A further thought then came to him. “He cannot be Akhenaton as he has walked on modern ground.”
“Right, that has got that out of the way.” Kate was somewhat relieved. “Cairo, could you please take the postcards back?”
“It may not be Akhenaton, but could be relative.” Cairo took the cards and ran back to the shop.
“A relative! He could be right, you know.”
“Yes, he could. Do you think I was a little hard on him?” asked Kate.
“No, not at all ... well, just a little. We both were.” Seeing Cairo come back, Alex called out to him. “We think you could be on to something.” Kate nodded, and Cairo beamed.
“So, according to Dr Margretti, being on our own is the only way we have any chance of defeating him?” Kate was not going to say warlock in an area where the word warlock would not be expected to be heard.
“I for one don’t think we have to follow Dr Margretti’s instructions.”
“They were more like orders.”
“Yes, they were, Mr Alex,” added Cairo.
“If I ordered you both to jump in the Nile, would you do it?” No came back to him almost instantly from both Kate and Cairo. “See what I mean?” They did. “Everything is in our hands. It’s up to us what we do and how we do it. What we must not do, is tell anyone what we are going to do. Sounds crazy, doesn’t it? I know from the table which flew up into the air only to crash down where I had been sitting a split second earlier that we are being watched. In my opinion, we have to work as a team, make decisions between us as a team, and once and for all rid Luxor of the …” He stopped there, because he also did not want to say warlock.
“Great words,” said Kate, before she gave a mock yawn. “But what do we actually do?” Only now had she realised that Alex had taken control. For possibly the first time ever, she really did not mind. She wanted this to be over and really did not like the fact that Dr Margretti had almost laughed at them when he realised that they all thought they could survive this. She had been near to death already during this adventure and she was unwilling to take it the step further. Knowing there was an afterlife, though it would appear not an afterlife for all, she was still not ready for it, not quite yet.
Cairo was having the same thoughts, and he said so. “I worried, I don’t want to go afterlife. I not had this life yet.”
“I know what you mean,” said Alex quite genuinely.
Kate and Cairo had not been party to the Doctor’s words to Alex, just as they had been leaving the restaurant. He had said that he had a job for him, a job he would like, a career he was cut out for. However, it would take some explaining and he would only do this if Alex survived, or survived in a well enough condition to be able to work, because he did not want to waste his time. It was the cool, calm way Dr Margretti had said this, which had unnerved Alex the most.
“We have to be honest with ourselves, nobody expects all three of us to survive this. However, there is an awful lot resting on us. The future peace and happiness of those in the afterlife, as well as own! I for one don’t want to die, but I am going to do everything in my power to bring this peace and happiness to all concerned, whilst at the same time doing my very best to ensure that we all get through this. Are you with me?”
There was an uneasy quiet until Kate spoke. “You would make a good Napoleon.”
“Wellington, if you don’t mind. Napoleon lost … both Napoleons did!”
There followed a full hour and a half of discussion. Alex had expected a real rebuke from Kate, though this never happened. He had also expected to see Cairo run off to the Winter Palace to go and help his father. This never happened either. They had talked with a maturity, the like of which none of them had expressed before, of their fears and concerns. They were frightened, they wanted this to be over, but they also agreed that they were the only ones who could finish this once and for all. It was up to them, them alone, to ensure that happiness returned to the afterlife, and they were going to do everything in their power to ensure that it did.
From this moment forward they were going to do anything except what was expected of them. It started with breakfast in the morning, or rather in just a few hours from now. Babs’ tears had told Alex that she either knew or had been told something, probably that she would not be seeing him for a while. Well, she would be seeing him, and she would be seeing him at breakfast. They would all be seeing the three adventurers at breakfast.
Kate was going to talk Babs into going shopping with her. Something nobody could have thought would have ever happened. At some point in the day, she would go off on her own, and her adventure would start.
Cairo would help his father with the washing of glasses in the bar. When asked why he was still at the Winter Palace, he would simply say that he was there because he had nothing else to do. Only after he had answered this question enough times to be certain the message would be passed on to someone, who would, in turn, pass it on to the warlock, would he go to the kitchen, the lower kitchen, the kitchen of the ancients, without telling anyone. His adventure would start from there.
Alex was going to go back to the dig with his father after breakfast, even if Quentin objected, and he quite expected there would be objections. His overall plan was to make it look as though it was business as usual. He needed to find out who had secured Henuttawy’s place in the afterlife, though unless his father had any idea which archaeologist or archaeologists were responsible, how he was going to do this he really did not know. At some point in the day he would also go missing, as he started on his adventure.
The lack of a plan to meet up worried both Kate and Cairo, and they said so.
“We all have the same aim.” They agreed with Alex. “We all have our own ideas.” They agreed again. “We are a team and we work together.” This brought him quizzical looks. “Okay, we can be apart and still work as a team.” The quizzical looks remained. “If we are all working to the same end, then our clues should take us on the same path. We should naturally meet up at some point.” He was now looking at two slightly less quizzical faces. “Can’t you see this makes sense? This would be the last thing anyone expected us to do. Nobody can be aware of our plans, because even we do not know what our plans are. Once we are all back together and have pooled our findings, we will know exactly what to do, what we must do. For once we really will have the advantage.”
It sounded crazy yet plausible. “There was logic there, even if it was the logic of a crazy person,” thought Kate. She stood to give Alex a peck on the cheek, leaned over and did the same to Cairo, then went off to bed.
The boys talked for some while longer, quite a while longer. Alex suddenly realised it was no longer the street lights which made it look as though it was daylight, it was actually daylight. He looked at his mobile phone. It was time to go for breakfast. They walked back to the hotel where Cairo went to help his dad wash glasses.
Alex was just about to enter the breakfast room when he remembered something important he had wanted to tell Cairo. He shot back. Sticking his head around the bar he saw Cairo asleep, sitting up with a bowl of glasses ready to be washed in front of him, but definitely asleep. Alex scribbled a note on paper borrowed from reception which he folded before slipping into Cairo’s galabeya pocket, in the hope he would find it later.
Chapter 10
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Three Separate Journeys
Looks can sometimes be difficult to judge, though not in this case. Alex walked into the breakfast room, where Quentin, Babs and Dr Margretti looked at him as though they had seen a ghost. Joe remained impassive. It was as if he had expected this to happen. Alex pulled a chair out. As he moved around it to sit down he noticed Joe give h
im a wink followed by a shallow nod. With so many people around them, Dr Margretti was unable to rebuke him. Kate joined them after a few moments.
“Would you like to go shopping with me, Mrs Cumberpatch? I have a free day, and so far this holiday I haven’t bought any presents.”
“Don’t overdo it,” thought Alex.
“That would be lovely. Yes!”
“Okay, shall we leave about ten? We are in no hurry as we have all day.”
“That is great, Kate, now stop there or change the subject.” Alex’s thoughts were not enough. She started to speak about what presents she wished to take home with her and for whom, so he cut across her in order to ask his father what he had planned for them up at the dig today.
“Well,” said Quentin who had been taken aback, “nothing special really. I recorded the find of Ay’s gold chamber and gave the Egyptian authorities the small gold pieces I brought out as proof. They will have the paperwork allowing us to excavate drawn up in a couple of days. There is no real hurry as we have security in place which will cover both sites.”
“I hope it is better than the sleeping policemen.”
“Much better,” Quentin said with confidence. “The army are back, and this time in force. Nothing will get past them. They now agree with me that they should never have left.”
“This is all very nice, all very cosy,” said Dr Margretti. “Didn’t anything I say to either of you last night register? Do you not understand what I said?”
“Oh, we understood perfectly.” Alex rather stared at the Doctor as he said this.
“Yes, perfectly,” added Kate.
“I am at a loss.”
“Exactly,” said Kate. “If the mighty Dr Margretti is at a loss, then lesser mortals, as well as those not so mortal, will also be at a loss.”
Joe gave a surreptitious thumb up. In many ways he reminded Alex of Sobek, the powerful and threatening looking crocodile god, who was actually rather nice when anyone managed to get past his grumpy exterior.
After a fairly typical breakfast, Alex went to leave with his father. He gave Kate a kiss on the cheek, and as he did, he slipped a folded piece of paper into her bag. “Later,” he whispered into her ear, so she did not reach for it now.
“How romantic,” said Babs.
“Give me strength,” said Dr Margretti as he rolled his eyes.
Alex and Quentin walked to the ferry at a sedate pace. Nobody in their right mind would want to rush in the extreme heat of Luxor. Now Nakhtifi was safe in the afterlife, there was no fear of having to rush. Whilst enjoying the welcome breeze on the open top deck of the ferry, Alex asked his dad if he knew who had brought Henuttawy’s name to prominence. Much to his surprise his dad did. Much more to his surprise, Quentin made no attempt to get off as the ferry docked at the West Bank.
“Okay, Dad,” thought Alex, “you must be aware that this is the safest place to talk without ancients overhearing. Yet you want me to forget that you know anything about ancients. I will play along for now, as you say it is safer like this and I trust you, but very soon you will have to tell me everything.”
“I do not know much about her, Alex, but I will tell you what I do know of Nutty.” Seeing the look on his son’s face he elaborated, “I know it’s not very nice to call her that, but I think it best if we do not mention her name any more than we have to.”
Alex agreed, though he could not picture anyone calling such a lovely, beautiful person as Henuttawy, Nutty.
“Nutty has been mentioned several times recently in papers submitted by two archaeologists who are working further to the north.”
“Do you know their names?”
“I did … no … no … I cannot recall them at the moment. Their names may come back to me. Anyway, they have both jointly and individually submitted various works on their dig. Both proclaim that the name of Nutty is written on many pieces, fragments, they have unearthed. They are respected, though rather maverick archaeologists. This is one of the reasons I cannot remember their names. Because they refuse to be linked to any university, they are mostly forgotten by academics. I include myself in this. This is why I remember all this fuss about Nutty.
“Previously they had never wanted anything about their dig to be published, yet all of a sudden they became prolific writers about Nutty. At least they … that’s it, David Wool, that is the name of one of them. Still cannot remember the name of the other. Anyway, as I was saying, they have achieved what they wanted to achieve, as they have officially recorded Nutty as a daughter of Ramses in such a way that it cannot be denied. Only recently they uncovered writings which give her both status and relevance. Very much against what I know of them, they opened their dig, along with their findings, to any of the top archaeologists in the world. Several have already visited. All have confirmed their findings to be genuine. I have to say, I was tempted to join them at their dig.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because just as I was thinking about contacting them, the offer of a dig here came my way and you know how that ended.”
Alex nodded as he asked, “You sounded a little sceptical about their findings. I wondered why?”
“It’s only because of where they are digging. On the face of it, what we know of the area would not connect to what they have found. I am, however, extremely relieved that everything has stood up to close scrutiny. The last thing we need is a scandal involving British archaeologists. That would cast a cloud over the integrity of us all.”
“Where are they digging?”
“I told you, to the north of Thebes.”
“How far north, Dad?”
“Around four hundred kilometres.”
“No!”
“Yes.”
“Amarna?”
“Yes, Alex, that is why it does not make sense. Why would her name, a daughter of Ramses, be so prominent in a city built by Akhenaton?
“Perhaps they had a thing going?”
“Sometimes, Alex, I despair of you. Akhenaton died and his city was abandoned a good hundred years before Ramses II and Nutty were ever thought of.”
“Perhaps she never left Egypt, perhaps she hid in the abandoned city when she went into exile?” Alex said this to try and catch Quentin out, to see just how much his father knew of ancients. The lack of any answer was telling, though the lack of any rebuke or even a ‘what are you going on about’, confirmed that his dad knew much, much more about ancients than he was willing to let on.
Much to her surprise, Kate had actually enjoyed her time with Alex’s mum. They had shared a few laughs as they toured the souks of Luxor, where Babs had haggled well whilst buying her presents. Now sitting in the air-conditioned lounge of some modern nondescript hotel drinking ice-cold tamar-hindi, Kate reviewed her photos of the morning. Though the monitor on her camera was small, she could not make out anyone who may be following her. Now was the time to go out on her own. Alex had said she should go off without saying anything, just disappear into the crowd. Her feelings of guilt would not let her do that to Babs.
“I just need to pop to the toilet, I’ll not be long.” Babs stood, took a pace, then turned to look at Kate. “I don’t expect you will be here when I get back. Whatever you do get up to, please be careful, and do give Alex my love when you see him.” Her eyes were welling up as she walked out of the lounge.
Sitting in stunned silence Kate looked towards the large glowing red digits of a wall mounted digital clock. “Tasteful,” she thought, just before the time registered and another thought went through her mind. “Oh, flipping hell, I’m late.” She dashed from the hotel as she too had to go to a toilet, though hers was on the West Bank of Luxor and by appointment.
Cairo was pleased that his father had woken him. Since then he had been asked enough times what he was doing behind the bar for his answer to have been passed on. “Now I go,” he thought. He casually made his way to the kitchen, the ancient kitchen below the Winter Palace. He knew what he had to do, and he was going to d
o it. He climbed into the back of a rather ancient low wooden cart pulled by creatures which resembled cheetahs by their markings, though were lower to the ground and much stockier than any cheetah. It was the serrated horn on the nose of both which said they were not animals of this time … they were craptors. Ropet and Sanuba, Cairo’s ancient relatives, sat at the front, and without a word being spoken, they were off.
Having become used to travelling through the ancient underground tunnel system, Cairo was no longer scared as the cart bumped it way through lightless tunnels at life-threatening speeds. Okay, he was scared, he just did not scream anymore. Of course, Ropet and Sanuba were not scared at all … they were already dead. The snorting and flatulence of the craptors as they ran caused Cairo to feel quite sick, though the motion of the cart may have had something to do with his feeling of nausea. He was much relieved as the cart slowed, then finally came to a complete halt. Sanuba pointed upwards, Ropet did likewise. They each gave Cairo a hug, followed by a salute, then left. Still, not a word had been spoken.
Soon Cairo was up and out of the tunnel. He was in a burial chamber. The slope out of the chamber proved to be most difficult to navigate even on all fours. This was the slope down which the sarcophagus would have been lowered. Cairo lifted his galabeya for the fifth time as he ran at the slope just as fast as he could. As with previous attempts he reached about half way up before his forward momentum stalled. His legs were pumping away, his hands were down on the slope and working as hard as his legs, yet on the loose gravel his forward momentum was zero.
As he stopped running gravity took over, exerting a backward momentum which took him down into the burial chamber, a momentum which was only stopped by the rear wall of the tomb. He recovered his breath before trying again. Half way back up and just as he was thinking he would never be able to get out, a hand grabbed at his shoulder, it lifted him up to where he was supposed to be.
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