by David Wood
“Just because she was a woman?”
“Not necessarily. It was a common practice in ancient times for kings to remove all mention of their predecessors as a way of increasing their own prestige. Given the scope of her accomplishments, its not surprising that the men who came after might have felt a little threatened.”
Maddock did not fail to note the subtext, but Nora quickly moved on.
“There were also some major political and cultural shifts that may have played a role later on. About a century after Hatshepsut, Amenhotep IV created a new religion worshipping Aten, the sun disk. He changed his name to Akhenaten and built a new capital city in Amarna, about halfway between here and Memphis.”
Maddock started a little in surprise at the mention of Akhenaten. A few years earlier, he and Bones, along with his former girlfriend, archaeologist Jade Ihara, had discovered the shocking truth about the so-called “heretic” pharaoh. He tried to cover his reaction with a more innocuous question. “I thought the Egyptians were already worshipping the sun at that time.”
“Think of it more as a sectarian revolution. Aten was an aspect of Amun Re, so it wasn’t as if Akhenaten was introducing a new deity. Rather, he was claiming that he had special knowledge of how the deity was to be worshipped. All religions grow out of earlier traditions. Judaism, Christianity and Islam all worship the God of Abraham, but each one insists that they have received the correct revelation of how he ought to be worshipped, and within each, there are sectarian differences.”
Bones, who had been looking around, seemingly oblivious to the lecture, now spoke up. “I read somewhere that Akhenaten might have been Moses.”
Maddock winced and shot his friend a warning glance. Nora just gawped at him. “Moses? As in the Exodus?” She shook her head. “That’s preposterous. In any case, the Exodus account isn’t history. Period.” She shook her head again as if trying to remove all traces of the idea from her head. “You mentioned Nefertiti. We actually know even less about her than Hatshepsut—”
“I know that she was a babe,” Bones put in.
Nora pushed on. “She was Akhenaten’s queen, and had a great deal of influence over him. Recent discoveries have suggested that she also may have served as co-regent, and like Hatshepsut, ruled as king, using the name Neferneferuaten. During her reign, power shifted back to Thebes and the so-called Aten heresy ended. When Akhenaten’s son Tutankhaten, took the throne, he changed his name to—”
“Tutankhamun,” Maddock finished, nodding in understanding. “So Nefertiti was Tut’s mother?”
Nora seemed pleased that he had put it all together. “His biological mother died in childbirth, but Nefertiti raised the boy and probably continued serving as regent until her death.
“As you probably know, Tutankhamun’s reign did not last long—maybe just ten years—and he was constantly at odds with his vizier, Ay, and the general of his armies, Horemheb. When he died—and some believe he was murdered—both men eventually succeeded him to the throne, and Horemheb, who was not of royal blood, purged almost all mention of his predecessors. That was it for the Eighteenth Dynasty.”
“How many more are there?” Bones said.
“Strictly speaking, there are thirty-three distinct ruling dynasties—if you include the Argean and Ptolemaic Dynasties.”
“Thirty-three?” Bones groaned. He checked his watch. “So, we’re barely halfway. Maybe we can take a break for lunch? I think I saw a sign for Mickey-D’s back in Luxor.”
“Sorry,” Nora said. “I tend to get a little carried away. Suffice it to say, the third period—the New Kingdom—reached its zenith with the Nineteenth Dynasty, and specifically during the reign of Ramesses the Great which ended in 1213 BCE. By the end of the Twentieth Dynasty in 1077, the Empire had effectively collapsed and many of those who took the title Pharaoh after that were foreigners—Libyans, Nubians, Persians, Greeks. The last person to be called ‘pharaoh’ was Ptolemy XV, the son of Cleopatra and Julius Caesar, but he never really ruled over anything. And no, that won’t be on the test. As for lunch... There’s something I have to take care of first. Follow me.”
FOUR
She led them along the colonnade toward the north end of the balcony to a gated opening in the security fence. The gate was closed but an Egyptian man in Western attire was positioned just inside, guarding the entrance. Nora approached and said something in Arabic. Maddock had learned a few phrases in the language during his time in the military, but the only words he recognized now were names. Nora’s and someone else. Mohamed something.
The gatekeeper regarded her with an irritated and faintly suspicious expression, but then his gaze moved to Maddock and Bones, and after appraising them for a moment, he replied in the same language and then opened the gate to admit them.
Nora led them through the tightly spaced columns but paused at the edge of a sunlit interior courtyard. Maddock was surprised to see what looked like a small tour group gathered in a loose semi-circle in the middle of the open area, their backs turned to the entrance. He assumed that they must be academics—archaeologists like Nora, which probably explained how she had been able to gain access to the restricted area—but on closer examination, he realized that one of the men was standing behind a tripod mounted video camera. Another man had a slightly smaller shoulder mounted camera trained in the same general direction, and yet another was holding a boom microphone over the heads of the others in the group. The half-circle blocked his view of the subject, but Bones evidently had a better angle.
“Dude, do you know who that is?”
A couple of heads turned to look at him, fingers raised to lips in the universal gesture for ‘shut the hell up.’ Bones ignored them. “That’s Max Riddle. He must be filming for his show.”
The name meant nothing to Maddock, but knowing Bones’ television viewing habits, he could hazard a guess. “Aliens or cryptids?”
Bones grinned, his answer confirming that Maddock was on the right track. “Max used to work with Jo Slater.”
That was a name Maddock did recognize. Joanne Slater was the star of Expedition: Adventure, a cable TV documentary series about the search for mythic monsters, ghosts, lost treasures, and pretty much anything else that couldn’t be definitively proven to exist. Bones wasn’t just a fan of Slater’s show; he had actually joined her on an expedition to search for Florida’s legendary Skunk Ape.
“I guess they’ll give anyone a TV show these days,” Bones went on. “Maybe we should look into that. Don’t worry about your face though. You can just do the voice overs.” He gave a snort of laughter, which earned him another, more vigorous round of shushing from the production crew, and then someone from the group yelled. “Cut.”
Now, all eyes in the group turned to glare at them, and Maddock could see the two men who had, until that moment, been the focus of attention. The younger of the pair was tall and broad, with a face that, despite its present irritated frown, looked perpetually cheerful. Maddock guessed that had to be Riddle. The other man—older, shorter, grumpier—had the dark complexion and striking features of an Egyptian. He wore a leather vest over a vividly blue long sleeve work shirt and a weathered fedora, pushed back just far enough to reveal bushy white eyebrows. Maddock was certain that he recognized this man from somewhere.
Rather than chiding Bones for interrupting the filming, Nora immediately charged forward toward the group. As she drew close, the older man’s eyes narrowed to focus on her, and his already irked expression deepened into real anger. “You!”
“Dr. Zahi,” Nora said, with unexpected pleasantness. “I was hoping to find you here.”
Given the purposefulness she had earlier exhibited, Maddock knew the words were disingenuous. Nora had known exactly where this Dr. Zahi would be, and had timed her visit accordingly. The utterance of the name provided the clue Maddock had needed to solving the mystery of why the man looked familiar. This was Dr. Zahi Mohamed, the self-styled Egyptian Indiana Jones, and presently the head of the Eg
yptian government’s Ministry of Antiquities. Although his scholarly qualifications were well-established, Maddock knew the man had a reputation as a glory-hound. He was a fixture on cable television documentaries, and not just the ones that focused on real history and hard archaeology, though to his credit, when the subject matter veered into extreme speculation—as it all too often seemed to do in Egypt—he was usually consulted as the contrary voice of reason.
Earlier, when Nora had been bemoaning the stifling bureaucracy of the Ministry of Antiquities, it hadn’t really dawned on Maddock that the source of the problem was this would-be celebrity archaeologist.
A glance at the cameramen confirmed Maddock’s suspicion that, despite the “cut” order, they were still shooting, probably hoping that this interruption of the scripted interview might lead to something even more exciting. It was, after all, supposed to be “reality” television. Nora had almost certainly factored that into her ambush as well.
“I am quite busy,” Zahi said, with a disdainful sniff. “If you wish to speak with me, contact my office and make an appointment.”
Beside him, Max Riddle’s gaze settled on Nora, and his frown evaporated. He stepped forward, making sure to position himself so the camera would keep him framed, and thrust out a hand. “Hi. I’m Max Riddle, host of Maximum Mysteries.”
Bones quickly stepped in front of him and seized the outstretched hand. “Max, dude. Great to meet you. So what are you looking for? Let me guess. Proof that aliens built the pyramids?”
Riddle stared up at the big man warily but managed to sustain his smile. “Not this time. Actually, I’m investigating the Mystery of the Dendera Light. We’re just getting some background here, but we’ll be heading up to Dendera this afternoon.” He paused a beat, then his gaze narrowed. “You do know about the Dendera Light, don’t you?”
Bones shook his head. “Nah, but she probably does.” He cocked his head over his shoulder to indicate Nora.
As if on cue, Nora slipped around Bones. “How do you do? I’m Dr. Nora Majdy. I’m so sorry to have interrupted your filming, but this is an urgent matter. It will only take a moment.”
Zahi shook his head and waved an emphatic hand. “No. No. You’ll have to make an appointment.”
“Well, now I’m curious,” Riddle said, his smile now turned up to full intensity. “And I’m sure my viewers would like to hear more about this... Whatever it is.”
As if suddenly realizing what Nora was attempting, Zahi stepped forward quickly, forcing a smile for the cameras. “What I meant to say, Dr. Majdy—” He said it through clenched teeth, stressing both her title and name in a way that seemed almost menacing. “—is that a matter this sensitive should be discussed in a less public setting.”
“How ‘bout over there?” Bones said, hooking a thumb toward the corner of the courtyard.
Nora registered mild surprise at his suggestion, but then immediately nodded. “That’s fine with me,” she said, and then, with a grateful smile to Bones, started walking in the indicated direction as if Zahi had already acceded. After a quick glance toward the cameras, the older archaeologist mumbled, “This won’t take a moment,” and then went after her.
Bones glanced at Maddock and cocked his head in their direction, the unasked question easily interpreted. Maddock nodded, and they both followed.
Now safely out of view of the cameras, Zahi allowed his mask of civility to slip away. He regarded Nora with an expression of pure contempt, and then, realizing that Maddock and Bones were there as well, gave them the same treatment. “This is a private discussion,” he hissed.
“It’s okay,” Bones said. “We’re with her.”
Nora however adopted a more conciliatory tone. “Dr. Zahi, please forgive me. I did try to make an appointment with—”
“What do you want?” he snapped, clearly uninterested in smoothing things over.
“As I’m sure you’ve probably heard, we found something interesting in the West Valley.”
“We? Who is ‘we’? Certainly not you. I know for a fact that you don’t have permission to be digging in the West Valley, or anywhere else, for that matter.”
“Dr. Majdy has been working at my behest,” said a calm voice from behind Maddock. The speaker, who had been standing with the production crew, was a handsome looking Egyptian man who looked to be about the same age as Maddock. He wore dress slacks and a white business shirt, open at the collar, and as he approached the small group, he offered a warm smile and an open hand to Maddock. “How do you do? I am Nassir Fayed.”
Like Nora, he spoke flawless English with just a hint of a British accent. Maddock accepted the handclasp, which was firmer than he had anticipated, but before he could introduce himself, Zahi spoke up. “She is working for you, Fayed? I don’t understand.”
Fayed still gripping Maddock’s hand, said, “You will have to forgive Dr. Zahi. He is very protective of our great culture, and sometimes forgets his manners. I think it comes from spending too much time with dead people, and not enough with the living.”
Zahi glared at the younger man. “So this is why you wished to accompany me today.” The subdued tone of the accusation spoke volumes about the power dynamic between the two men.
Maddock nodded to the newcomer, and said simply, “I’m Dane Maddock. This is my partner, Mr. Bonebrake. Dr. Majdy invited us here to help with some underwater survey work.” He paused a beat. “But I guess if she’s working for you, then you already know all about that.”
“I do,” Fayed said. “But, it would not be accurate to say that Dr. Majdy is working for me. I am...” He tilted his eyes up, as if searching for the word. “Sponsoring the excavation.”
“Sponsoring?” Maddock wondered if the carefully chosen words were concealing an indiscreet relationship. Normally, he wouldn’t have cared—it was none of his business what people he barely knew did with their private lives—but he had already had enough drama for one day, and didn’t want to get dragged into the middle of an Egyptian soap opera. “You are an archaeologist?”
“I’m an enthusiast, Mr. Maddock. A well-connected one, at that.” He glanced over at Zahi, grinning. “From time to time, I finance expeditions of discovery, and help smooth out some of the obstacles in the permitting process.” He paused a beat before adding, “I believe I am also providing lodging for you and your associate.”
“Mr. Fayed owns a very successful resort hotel here in Luxor,” Nora said, speaking in a low, unobtrusive voice, like a language interpreter. Maddock detected no embarrassment or deception in her voice. Whatever else their relationship was, it didn’t appear to be romantic in nature.
“Archaeological discoveries are as much the life blood of my city as the Nile,” Fayed said, with an expansive air. “Luxor has been called ‘the world’s greatest open-air museum.’ But even the best museum must, from time to time, add new pieces to the collection. Without that, people lose interest. Visitors stop coming and the city withers and dies.”
“Archaeology is the quest to learn about our history,” Zahi muttered, refusing to meet Fayed’s gaze. “Not entertain tourists.”
Fayed did not comment on the obvious hypocrisy of the statement, but continued speaking. “And we have the added problem of religious extremists, who have from time to time, targeted visitors from the West. One of the worst incidents happened right here in this remarkable place. Twenty years ago. I was a young man then, but I remember it like it was yesterday. Sixty-two people murdered. Shot and hacked to death with machetes. We have never recovered from that, and no matter what steps we may take to protect our guests, every year, fewer people come. The fear of what may happen keeps them away. We must change that perception, Mr. Maddock. Remind the world that this is a place of discovery, not violence. So, you see, it is in my best interests to facilitate new discoveries, and to cultivate the next generation of rising stars in the field of Egyptology.” He smiled at Nora. “I see a bright future for Dr. Majdy.”
Maddock nodded in understandi
ng. If Zahi Mohamed was Egypt’s Indiana Jones, then Fayed was grooming Nora to be its Lara Croft—a female treasure hunter for the next generation. Vivacious and telegenic, Nora would certainly play well on the world stage, but in the increasingly fundamentalist climate of Egypt, it would be a tough sell.
He turned to Nora. “So then you do have permission?”
“As I told you,” Nora said, some of her earlier hesitancy returning. “It’s a little complicated. The permit Mr. Fayed secured for my excavation is limited in scope.”
“Limited how?”
“Physically. You see, the plots in the Valley of the Kings are divided up, much like parcels of land. My permit allows me to explore only so far.”
“And since that well might lead somewhere beyond the boundaries, you need additional permission to explore it.”
She nodded, and then turned to Zahi, deferential once again. “Obviously, I would not dream of jeopardizing my claim to the site, to say nothing of my career, by pushing ahead without the permission of the Ministry of Antiquities. But this is a significant discovery. We have never found anything like this. Who knows what it may lead to? We should not wait to begin surveying it.”
As if remembering the power he held, Zahi straightened and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but this is not a simple thing.”
“Why not?” Bones interjected. “You’re the boss, aren’t you?”
“Well, I—Yes, but—”
“Zahi,” Fayed said, almost crooning. “You don’t want people thinking that you are standing in the way of progress, do you?” He gave an almost imperceptible nod toward the production crew. A quick glance told Maddock that the cameras were still rolling. Even if the audio equipment didn’t pick up their conversation, body language would speak volumes.
Zahi opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again with a frown. He sighed. “And just what do you think you will find down there?”