by Overton, Max
"We sailed past Asna, Nekhen and Edfu, but news had already reached those cities of our status. The remnants of the population lined the river and sent volleys of arrows against us. They fell well short of course, as we had the whole river to use, but the fact that the common people turned against us hurt deeply. Not being able to put in at the cities, we were forced to scavenge for food and supplies in the farmlands near villages. Many of our wounded died in the days following the battle at Waset, despite the good efforts of Nebhotep and a handful of other physicians. Where we could, we buried them in the hot, dry sands of the desert edge where they stood a chance of immortality, their bodies drying before decay could set in, preserving the shell of the person for later spirit resurrection.
"And so we came to Abu again, where we found the Governor Ka-Nakht prepared to defend the island and the city..."
***
The chamber plunged into darkness, the lights briefly glowing dull orange before fading to a stygian gloom, not even a hint of light leaking in from the research tent where the generator still purred throatily. Doris screamed and Angela said, "Can it, Doris," very matter-of-factly.
"What the hell is going on?" Marc roared, swinging round in what he thought was the direction of the entrance. "Al, are you playing silly buggers again?"
"I'm over here," said an aggrieved voice. "Minding my own bloody business."
"There's a light over there, boys and girls," Daffyd observed in his Welsh lilt. "I believe it's coming from the next chamber."
Flickering yellow beams swung and tracked like drunken searchlights and they could hear footsteps scrunching on the sandy floor of the first chamber.
"Who's out there?" Marc growled. "Speak up, or do I have to come and find out?" He bent to clamber through the low hole in the wall and was blinded as two flashlight beams speared the blackness, blinding him.
"You will please all move away from the entrance and make no sudden movements." The voice that echoed from the first chamber spoke slowly and clearly in English, though with a strong Syrian accent. "Doctor Hanser? Do you hear me? You will please to do this, I wish no-one any harm."
"I hear you," Dani called. "Who are you?" She called to the others in the almost complete darkness, "Get back everyone, away from the entrance."
Boots scraped on the sandstone floor and the unmistakable sound of quality leather-soled shoes scrunching over the fine debris from the removal of the stone blocks came to their ears. The flashlight beams moved closer then flashed up, blinding the circle of archeology students before carrying on with a quick sweep of the new chamber. Behind the lights, Dani could make out dim shapes of men.
"Who are you?" she repeated. "This dig is carried out under the auspices of the Syrian Ministry of National History. You have no right to interfere."
"I am well aware of who you are, Doctor Hanser," the cultured voice continued. "I signed your permit myself."
"Under-Minister Bashir?" Dani's voice sounded incredulous. "What are you doing here? We received no word of your intended visit."
"That is perhaps just as well." Bashir said. His shoes scraped as he altered his position slightly. "Lights, Yusuf, if you please."
The lights flickered and came on strongly, flooding the chamber with incandescent brilliance again. Everybody blinked and shaded their eyes against the floodlights, gradually becoming aware of the rifles pointing at them from several soldiers standing behind the Under-Minister.
"Bloody hell," Al muttered.
Bashir was dressed in a crisp, clean, charcoal-gray Italian suit and shining black leather shoes. Tall and lean, his swarthy features sported a pencil-thin moustache and deep-set intelligent eyes under an immaculately trimmed head of black hair. He smiled, bestowing his largesse on everyone in turn, lingering a trifle longer on Angela's physical attributes. Switching his attention back to Dani, he repeated his last words to her.
"As I was saying, Doctor Hanser, it is perhaps as well that I sent no word. If I had, I think I would presently be examining some rather dull ditches in the earth rather than an unexpected Kemetu tomb."
Dani hesitated before saying quietly, "There is an explanation for that."
"I am sure you have one," Bashir said drily. "I am most interested in hearing it, but not here. My assistants," he waved a hand negligently at the soldiers behind him, "Will escort you all to your tents, where you will remain under guard. Except you, Doctor Hanser, and..." Bashir looked around the others before nodding his head at Daffyd. "And you, Doctor Rhys-Williams. I will talk to you both together right here." The Under-Minister stood aside to let the students out, waiting until all the soldiers but one had left.
The soldier did not carry a rifle but held a handgun. He slipped it into a leather holster and clipped the cover over it before coming to attention. "You wish me to bring in the furniture, Minister Bashir?" he asked.
"Thank you, Nazim, if you would be so kind." While he waited, Bashir strolled around the perimeter of the chamber, examining the columns of tiny hieroglyphs. He came to the end panel and stood looking up at the huge mural in silence for several minutes, the only sound in the chamber being the muted purr of the generator. "Magnificent," he said at last. "I have not seen its equal even in Kemet." He swiveled on his heel and stared back up the length of the room at Dani and Daffyd. "And you thought to hide this treasure?"
Dani was about to speak when Nazim reentered, holding three small folding chairs under one arm and a tiny folded card table under the other. He carefully set them up, two chairs on one side of the table, one opposite.
"Will there be anything else, Minister Bashir?"
"No Nazim. If you would be so good as to wait outside, I need to talk to these people alone." As the soldier hesitated, Bashir smiled. "I shall be perfectly safe, Nazim." He ostentatiously drew his jacket to one side to reveal a small gun in a holster under his left armpit. The soldier saluted and withdrew.
Bashir waved Dani and Daffyd to the pair of chairs, taking the single one himself and sitting down, tugging gently on the knees of his immaculately pressed trousers as he did so. He crossed his legs carefully, flicking at a bit of dust on one cuff, before turning his attention back to the scientists.
"Now, Doctor Hanser, you were about to tell me why you were keeping this national treasure a secret."
"We're not exactly keeping it a secret, Under-Minister. It is just that we are not sure what we have found. We do intend to inform the Ministry."
Bashir said nothing, just staring at Dani. After a while he looked across at Daffyd. "What do you have to say, Doctor Rhys-Williams?"
"Basically the same as Doctor Hanser," Daffyd replied quietly. "We found this cavern by accident and have been exploring it to see what it was." He shrugged. "After all, it could have been a hoax and how would we have looked wasting the Ministry's time?"
"Very thoughtful. And is it a hoax?"
"No." Dani shook her head. "I'm not an Kemetologist but I'd stake my reputation..."
"Should it survive this incident," Bashir murmured.
"...That this is genuine eighteenth dynasty narrative."
"So you have decided it is a genuine find. You intended to inform the authorities?" Bashir noted the two slow nods and smiled to himself. "It is understandable you would not want to commit yourselves until you were sure so you can be forgiven a month's delay in reporting it. That is how long it has been, is it not? The workers here report a lot of work up here in the front of the cave this last month."
Daffyd risked a hard stare at Dani and tried to nudge her leg with a foot but she ignored it or did not see his warning.
"Yes, about that," she confirmed.
Bashir frowned. "So what am I to make of a letter that arrived last week from one Peter Burrows?" He looked from one to the other, noting the blank looks. "Not familiar? He is the brother of one Robert Burrows, archaeologist. Ah, I see some recognition at last. This Peter sent a letter addressed to his brother Robert at the 'Kemetu Dig', care of the Ministry. Naturally, the letter was
opened and you can imagine the Minister's astonishment to hear that an Kemetu tomb had been discovered under his nose." Bashir uncrossed his legs and recrossed them, carefully pointing the sole of his shoe away from Dani. "The only troubling note about this letter was the intimation that this tomb was discovered last year. Last year, Doctor Hanser?"
Dani nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
"So I must now ask myself whether you ever meant to reveal its existence. Perhaps this delay is so you can first remove all the grave goods." He leaned forward suddenly and stared into Dani's eyes. "What was here, Doctor Hanser? A gold sarcophagus? Jewelry, artefacts? What?"
"There was nothing, boyo," Daffyd drawled. "What you see is what you got. A lot of writing and a couple of magnificent paintings."
"No gold?" Bashir rapped out, still staring at Dani.
"N...no," she stuttered, suddenly very much aware of the golden scarab in the pocket of her jeans. "You can search the camp if you like, you won't find anything."
"We already have. There is nothing." Bashir sat back again and recrossed his legs. Staring at Dani he saw something curious, the woman was suddenly nervous. "Turn out your pockets, both of you, on the table there."
"I really think I must refuse, boyo," Daffyd said. He took out his tobacco tin and papers and slowly rolled himself a cigarette. Striking a match, he lit it, blew a cloud of blue smoke into the air and replaced the items in his jacket pocket. "That's all I have, anyway."
"You will empty your pockets now or I will fetch Nazim in here to do it for you. I assure you he will not be gentle, even with the good lady doctor."
Daffyd sighed and stood up. He started emptying his pockets onto the torn green baize of the card table--his cigarette makings, a battered leather wallet, a grubby handkerchief. After a moment, Dani joined him, though her pockets were emptier save for her notebook from the previous season and the heavy gold scarab. Hand trembling slightly, she laid the gleaming piece on top of her notebook and sat down again, muttering under her breath.
Bashir poked through the jumble of things for a moment then he smiled. "Ah, what have we here?" He reached out and picked up the golden scarab, glanced at it and put it to one side, lifting up the notebook under it. "Your notebook from last year. This will tell me everything." He started leafing through it, becoming engrossed in the detailed notes written in her small but neat handwriting.
Daffyd raised a bushy eyebrow at Dani and mouthed a query. "What happened? Why is he ignoring the scarab?"
Dani shrugged slightly, and moved a hand up to cover her mouth should the Minister look up. "I don't know." She formed the words clearly with her lips in silence. "I don't think he saw it."
Daffyd frowned. "One of your pagan gods?" he mouthed.
Bashir looked up and tossed the notebook down on the table. "This is only one notebook. You have others? I want to see them."
Dani nodded. "They are back in my tent." She hesitated a few moments before continuing, addressing the Under-Minister in respectful tones. "You can see from my notebook that we were meticulous in recording everything we found. Aside from some minor damage, nothing has been harmed and the contents are intact, just waiting for Kemetologists to study them."
"Except for the gold." Bashir picked up the scarab again and hefted it as if judging the weight before replacing it on the worn green baize. "Every tomb has something in it, even the ones that have been robbed. Your notes indicate no evidence of robbery, so where is the gold?"
Dani shook her head and Daffyd shrugged. "Who knows, boyo? Maybe in some deeper chamber."
Bashir looked down the length of the chamber to the mural covering the back wall. "Behind there, you mean? I can have my men break through there in no time."
"You can't do that," Dani gasped. "You wouldn't. That is art beyond anything that has come out of Kemet."
"It would be regrettable," Bashir admitted. "But what am I to do? The Minister believes you have stolen the treasures of this tomb, our treasures that belong to the people of the United Arab Republic. Both Syria and our brother-state Kemet are being robbed by western imperialists again." The Under-Minister grimaced and rubbed the thumb of his right hand gently against the first two fingers. "If I had something to show Minister Al-Siluzi, we could let you continue to investigate the site."
"A bribe, you mean," Daffyd said distastefully.
Bashir frowned. "Of course not. I am disappointed that you would consider me so venal. I am talking about baksheesh."
"Same thing, isn't it?"
"By no means. The term refers merely to a gift one would give to an official who is deserving of respect. In return you would be granted certain privileges."
"So if we give your minister gold, he will let us continue to work here?" Dani asked. "The problem is, we don't have any gold."
"None? You are sure?"
"What you see is what there is."
"Then I am afraid you must consider the dig closed," Bashir said with a tone of finality. "You will all be placed under arrest and taken back to Damascus where you will be tried and deported." He picked up the golden scarab again and tossed it from hand to hand. "Not even a small amount?" he asked. "As a token of good faith, you understand." He held up the scarab between forefinger and thumb. "Even this amount would do," he said with a smile.
Dani's shoulders slumped. The Under-Minister had been playing with them all along, pretending not to notice the golden scarab. "You...you can have it," she whispered, feeling her heart tear within her.
A flash of anger crossed Bashir's face. "This? What would I want with this stone?" He flung the scarab down on the table and Dani grabbed it, sticking it back in her jeans' pocket.
"There is a treasure," Daffyd said slowly.
Bashir swiveled to stare at the Welshman as he rolled himself another cigarette and lit it. "What treasure?" he asked softly. "Where is it?"
"I'll show you." Daffyd got up and strolled across the chamber to the place where Dani had been translating when the lights went out. "There is your treasure." He pointed at the columns of hieroglyphs.
Bashir scowled. "I cannot read that. What does it say?"
"It says, 'The two boats contained the royal treasury of Smenkhkare--not a great sum as compared to that of our father Nebmaetre, whom men called 'golden', but far more than that of his brothers Akhenaten and Tutankhaten. They put in to the western shore and carried it to a safe spot for burial until such time as the king would have need of it.'" Daffyd turned to Bashir with a grin.
Bashir was still scowling. "What does this have to do with a treasure?"
"The account says King Smenkhkare buried an enormous wealth of gold and went away," Daffyd explained. "It is known that Smenkhkare was buried with little ceremony, so where is the gold? I think it is right where they buried it three thousand years ago."
The Under-Minister licked his lips. "How much?"
"In today's dollars or pounds? Millions? Maybe billions."
"Where?"
"Ah, now that we do not know. Not yet, anyway," Daffyd hurried on as Bashir opened his mouth. "But somewhere in all this," he waved his hand around the chamber, "Somewhere in all this is a description. With luck it will lead us to the royal treasury."
Bashir considered this idea for a long time, scanning the walls avidly as if by sheer determination he might decipher the writings. At last he nodded. "Very well, you may continue your investigations, but I will be present at all times. Nothing is to be translated unless I am here. Is that understood?"
"Of course, Under-Minister Bashir," Dani said quietly, her hand resting unobtrusively over the scarab in her pocket. "We understand completely. We are partners."
"Then if we are partners, Doctor Dani, you may call me Ahmed." He bowed and smiled. "Come, let me escort you to my tent and we can toast the future of our enterprise with a rather superior Turkish coffee I have."
The three people left the chamber and a few minutes later the generator coughed and died, the floodlights dying to a sullen orange gl
ow before plunging the chamber into the darkness that had enveloped it for over three thousand years.
The End of Scarab-Smenkhkare: Book 2 of the Amarnan Kings.
The story will continue in Scarab-Tutankhamen: Book 3 of the Amarnan Kings.
Return to Contents
* * *
The Main Characters in Scarab-Smenkhkare
The pronunciations given below are hardly definitive. As vowels are unknown in ancient Kemetu, we can only guess at the proper pronunciation. I have tried to select spellings and pronunciations that are common among English speakers, though where the accent lies is anyone's guess. If you prefer another form, please feel free to use it.
Aanen (Ah-nen) - second prophet of Amun, brother of Ay
Ahhotep (Ah-hoh-tepp) - glass maker of Waset
Akhenaten (Ah-ken-ah-ten) - the heretic king, husband of Nefertiti
Amenemhet (Ah-men-em-het) - first prophet of Amun, high priest
Amenemipet (Ah-men-emm-ee-pet) - deputy viceroy of Nubia
Amenhotep III (Ah-men-hoh-tepp) - king, father of Amenhotep IV (Akhenaten), Smenkhkare, Tutankhaten and Beketaten
Amenhotep IV - king, son of Amenhotep III, later changed his name to Akhenaten
Amentep (Ah-men-tepp) - commander of Paramessu's Ptah legion
Ankheperure (Ann-kep-er-oo-ray) - Living Manifestations of Re; throne name of Smenkhkare
Ankhesenpaaten (Ann-kess-en-pah-ah-ten) - third daughter of Akhenaten and Nefertiti
Ankhesenamen (Ann-kess-en-ah-men) - name taken by Ankhesenpaaten when
Tutankhaten changed his name
Ashraz (Ash-razz) - Aziru's spymaster
Aspalta (Ass-pal-tah) - commander of Smenkhkare's Nubian army
Ay (Eye) - father of Nefertiti and brother to queen Tiye, holds title of Divine Father, Tjaty to Akhenaten, priest of Amun and later of Aten