The Quest of Julian Day

by Dennis Wheatley

  Oonas and I had visited most of the important tombs before, either separately or together, but neither of us had seen that of Merenptah, which is very fine, so we went down into it and afterwards visited that of the general who usurped the throne on the death of Tutankhamen, the Pharaoh Horemheb. Over an hour of our time had gone when we came up again into the sunshine out of the cool yet stuffy darkness. I did not think much of Sayed, the guide she had provided, but he seemed willing enough and quite a decent fellow.

  ‘What would you like to tackle now?’ I asked her. There are still any number of them we haven’t seen although we’ve done the best ones.’

  ‘How about Thothmes III?’ she suggested.

  The guide shook his head. ‘I would not advise this one, my ladyship. There was a fall of rock in Thothmes III last year; so it is not very safe any more.’

  ‘Is it shut now?’ she asked.

  ‘No, it not shut,’ he replied slowly. ‘But only the archæologists make visit there. You no like—no interest.’

  Thothmes III was the gentleman who, after remaining tied to Queen Hat-shept-sut’s apron-strings for some thirty-odd years, had become the greatest conqueror in all the long history of his country. The idea of visiting the Egyptian Napoleon’s grave had suddenly appealed to me, so I said:

  ‘If the grave is officially open it must be safe and even if there isn’t much to see I should like to visit it on account of the personality of the man who was buried there.’

  Still, Sayed demurred. ‘It is a long way from here, and one must go down ladders to get to it, my lord. It is much troublesome to get. The tomb is down in a deep pit which we have to reach by climbing up into the hills.’

  ‘I don’t mind that, darling,’ Oonas said, ‘if you’d like to see it. I should, because his being such a great King makes it in one way really the most interesting tomb in the Valley.’

  ‘Right ho! Let’s go there, then,’ I agreed.

  Sayed shrugged his shoulders. ‘If my lordship wishes I will ask one of the guardians for the keys; but it is a long walk and he will tire my ladyship.’

  I had a shrewd suspicion that Sayed was only raising objections because he was himself unwilling to undertake the exertion of getting there in the hot sunshine which was now grilling down upon us. In any case I knew that his talk of the place being dangerous must be sheer nonsense, otherwise the authorities would not have allowed the tomb to remain open to the public. Still grumbling and muttering he shambled off to see the tomb guardians about the keys.

  A few minutes later he came back with one of them who proved equally averse to our making the visit. He said that there was no danger of the tomb itself caving in, as the fall of rock had been outside its entrance, but that it meant a steep climb first and that in the descent to the entrance of the tomb afterwards one might have a nasty fall; only the professional archæologists ever bothered to go there and so far the tomb had not been opened even once this season.

  The very fact that so few visitors to Egypt had ever been down into the tomb of the great conqueror made us all the keener and, as Oonas pointed out, if the way to it really proved too steep and dangerous we could always turn back; so the tomb guardian took one of the large keys off a big iron ring that he carried at his belt and handed it to Sayed.

  Leaving the bottom of the Valley, where all the best-known tombs are situated, we followed Sayed slowly up a footpath that led along one of the spurs coming down from the ridge of hills. The way was very steep and ten minutes later we were a hundred feet above the valley bottom, moving in single file along a shaly track that ran parallel to the windings of a nearby precipice.

  On our right, across the gulf, we could see another precipice and the two gradually closed in to form a narrow gully which ran deep into the heart of the mountain. It was the best part of half an hour before we reached its end and it was here, at the bottom of a perpendicular chimney, enclosed on three sides by sheer cliffs, that the entrance to the tomb lay. Evidently too, it could not be approached along the bottom of the gully as the only way down to it was by a succession of ladders tied to a rickety scaffolding precariously fixed in the cliff-face.

  ‘Have you ever visited this tomb before?’ I asked Sayed.

  ‘Once, my lord,’ he replied uneasily. ‘I had to for the obtaining of my guide’s certificate; but it is not a nice place and I had hoped never to have to go again.’

  Here was the explanation of his reluctance to bring us there but I only laughed and promised him an extra good tip for the trouble to which we were putting him.

  ‘How d’you feel about it now?’ I enquired of Oonas. ‘Is your head all right for heights? Or would you rather we chucked it up?’

  She shook her head, smiled and she placed a small, soft hand in one of mine.

  ‘It seems a pity not to go down now we are here after that tiring walk, and I shall not be frightened if you hold me firmly.’

  ‘All right, then, I murmured, stepping on the ladder. ‘I’ll go first and if you’ll come after me step by step my arms will be round you so that you can’t possibly fall.’

  It wasn’t really such a difficult business and we reached the foot of the last ladder a little breathless but quite safely. Standing as we were now, at the bottom of the rock chimney, the entrance of the tomb still lay some twenty feet below us and the only way down to it was over a tumbled pile of jagged rocks.

  ‘I will go first here,’ said Sayed, ‘and my ladyship can come after, putting a hand on my shoulder.’

  We followed as he suggested and reached the iron doors built into the rock-face. He inserted the key in the lock which had evidently not been oiled since the previous winter, as he had some difficulty in turning it, but at last he got it open.

  He then produced from his pocket some candles which we had used in the tomb of Horemheb and lighting three of them, gave us one apiece.

  The tomb being of the XVIIIth Dynasty period was one of the very deep ones which go down almost perpendicularly into the earth and the first ramp was so steep that we could hardly keep upright as we shuffled forward, down into the pitchy, musty blackness. At its end we came to a flight of stairs, one side of which had fallen away into the depths of an unseen chasm below, so that in places only about nine inches’ width of the stairway remained to tread upon. Negotiating this dangerous patch was a tricky and unpleasant business. We had to flatten ourselves against the wall and, as well as holding our candles, Sayed and I had more or less to support Oonas between us.

  Her breath was coming quickly and I knew that she was scared but when I suggested that we had gone quite far enough and should turn back she would not hear of it and I admired her pluck tremendously.

  We passed through a largish square chamber and then descended another steep ramp. At its bottom there was a short passage-way and I suddenly caught a hollow ring beneath Sayed’s feet as he led us through it. Next moment he paused and lit a length of magnesium tape which gave a sudden, lurid flame. By its glare I saw that we had just reached a wooden bridge which spanned a wide chasm the full width of the passage. He motioned to us to peer down into the dark abyss and said:

  ‘For the tomb robbers. The Pharaohs very clever. They make these pits in the middle of the tunnel and when the priests have buried the king they take away the bridge afterwards. The robbers come and they don’t know that. They fall down in the dark and break their necks. When this tomb opened they find the skeletons of six men down there. Tomb robbers who have kill themselves or died of thirst because unable to get out.’

  I had seen such pits before in other tombs and knew their purpose, and I was anxious that we should get off that narrow bridge so, with a quick word, I hurried him on.

  He dropped the few remaining inches of the flaming tape into the great man-trap and, as it fluttered down into the unseen depths, we caught a glimpse of the shaft’s sheer, perpendicular sides. On the far side of the bridge the passage took a sharp right-angle turn and, ten yards further on, turned again just before ente
ring the sarcophagus-chamber.

  Sayed lit another length of magnesium tape and on glancing round I saw at once that the tomb really was worth a visit for its own sake. More people would undoubtedly go there if it were not so difficult of access and the guides so reluctant to undertake the venture. It was decorated in much the same manner as the tomb of Amenophis II; painted texts and figures upon a dull ground; but in shape it was quite unlike the sarcophagus-chamber of any other tomb, as it formed a long oval similar to the cartouche in which the Pharaohs always enclosed the hieroglyphics representing their names.

  ‘Burial place of King Thothmes the Third,’ Sayed announced parrot fashion. ‘Very great King. Make all neighbouring nations bow down to Egypt. Very long reign; fifty-four year. This one of the deepest tombs in whole valley. We are now three hundred feet below ground; over four hundred feet below cliff top. Tomb robbed and mummy removed long, long ago, but coffin still here.’ With his hand he struck the sarcophagus a resounding blow which echoed hollowly round the chamber.

  It was not a very big coffin compared with the hundred-ton affairs I had seen in some of the other tombs. On the floor near it I noticed a little heap of broken fragments from alabaster vases and carved faïsance figures which clearly showed that very few people ever visited the place, otherwise such interesting souvenirs would have long since been mopped up by the tourists.

  Oonas remained standing in the entrance of the chamber as I moved forward with Sayed to examine the pile of pieces. Just as I was stooping over them she spoke.

  ‘Well, now we’re here, what do you think of it, Julian?’

  ‘It’s far more interesting than I expected,’ I said. ‘I’m awfully glad we came.’

  ‘I wish we could see some more of the tombs together,’ she said slowly.

  ‘So do I,’ I replied, ‘but I’m afraid that’s not possible as I have to get back directly after lunch.’

  ‘You have quite made up your mind to go, then?’

  ‘Yes; you know that. I can’t let the others down.’

  ‘Can’t you possibly persuade them to let you take me with you?’

  I straightened up and turned towards her. ‘Now, please!’ I said. ‘Don’t let’s spoil our last few hours together by going into all that again. With the five of us, day after day, never out of each others’ sight for weeks on end there would be the most frightful quarrels. You and Sylvia hate the sight …’

  I got no further. By the light of the candle she was holding I saw Oonas’ expression change with incredible swiftness from one of meekness to frenzied, diabolical rage.

  ‘Sylvia!’ she screamed. ‘It is for her you are determined to leave me!’ Next second she shrilled out a hysterical command in Arabic.

  Before I could turn Sayed, who was standing just behind me, hit me a heavy blow on the back of the head with some sort of bludgeon he had been concealing in his robe.

  I pitched forward on to the floor and for a moment I must have been knocked unconscious. A blinding pain seemed to split my head in two and when I could see again the sarcophagus-chamber was lit only by a faint glow barely outlining its entrance. Oonas and Sayed had disappeared and I could hear their footfalls as they hurried back along the corridor.

  I tried to stagger up but fell again. With a supreme effort I forced myself to my knees, then to my feet, and lurched towards the fast-dimming square of the entrance. Filled with ungovernable horror at the thought that they meant to leave me there, I blundered out into the ante-chamber and across it. My feet seemed weighed down with lead and my head swayed limply from side to side on my shoulders. But the light was brighter here and somehow I managed to reach the middle of the passage where it was divided by the deep pit.

  At its edge I fell again and a fresh access of terror shook me. I saw that Oonas and Sayed were standing on the far side of the gulf and had removed the plank bridge so that I could not cross it.

  ‘Oonas!’ I gasped. ‘Oonas!’ but a croaking whisper was all that I could manage.

  She held her candle aloft so that I could see her face and the light glinted on her great, widely spaced blue eyes but they held no trace of mercy as she cried harshly:

  ‘You thought you were going to have a fine time in the desert with that tow-headed stick of an English girl, didn’t you? What a fool you must be to think that I would let you leave me for her. She loves you. I know that; but now she shall eat her heart out believing that you’ve thrown her over to remain with me.’

  Before I could whisper a plea for mercy or attempt to reason with her, Oonas turned away. My strength was ebbing and the light from the candles faded as their echoing foot-falls receded in the distance. The pit now cut me off from them. Even if I had had the strength to rise again it would have been impossible for me to reach them before they locked the iron gates at the entrance of the tomb and passed out into the daylight hundreds of feet above my head.

  My last thought, before I sank into black unconsciousness, was the appalling certainty that there was no hope of escape and that I must die there in the darkness.

  20

  Buried Alive

  For the first few seconds after I came to I did not realise where I was or what had happened to me but, all too soon, full consciousness returned and my numbed brain recovered sufficiently to savour racing thoughts that made me shake with abject terror.

  I was lying face-downwards where I had dropped in the passage-way with one arm dangling over the sharp edge of the shaft that had been cut nearly thirty-four centuries before to trap tomb-robbers. Withdrawing it hastily I scrambled up into a sitting position and shrank back against the wall. My head ached abominably from a dull pain which increased and diminished regularly with the rhythm of my pulsing blood. Very gingerly I felt the back of my head and the dampness my finger-tips encountered told me that it was bleeding; but my dark hair is thick and I thought it unlikely that my skull was cracked particularly as the blow had only knocked me out for a few seconds after it was first delivered.

  An icy sweat had broken out on my forehead. As I brushed it away I knew that I must try to control my panic. Almost instinctively, with fumbling fingers, I searched for my cigarettes and lighter. As I lit one the flame threw weird shadows on the walls and, beside me to the right, I could see the black gulf of the pit.

  For a moment I wondered whether I could get across in one desperate flying leap but almost as soon as I thought of it I knew that it was impossible. The part of the passage where I sat took a right-angled turn almost immediately on my left which meant that I could not get more than a two-yards’ run and with a ghastly sinking of the heart I admitted to myself that I was trapped in the lower portion of the tomb. If I attempted to jump the pit I should only precipitate my end by falling short and crashing headlong upon its bottom.

  The impossibility of getting across did not depress me quite so much when I’d had time to realise that had I been able to do so I should have been little better off. Even if I could have reached the iron gates of the tomb, situated as they were in the bottom of a gully a hundred feet below the track along the cliff which was their only approach, I might have shouted until my voice cracked but the chances were a thousand to one against anyone’s hearing me unless they were actually descending the ladders to the tomb.

  The chance that someone might pay the place a visit, and find me there before I died, seemed my only possible hope and I began to wonder how much likelihood there was of that. The tomb guardian had told us that the grave of Thothmes III had not been opened since the previous winter which showed clearly that visits to it were of very rare occurrence, while the bits of alabaster and pottery scattered about the sarcophagus-chamber substantiated the fact that it was almost unheard of for a casual traveller to come there.

  Every Egyptologist worthy of the name would certainly inspect the tomb of such an important monarch at one time or another but having once viewed its unique oval burial-chamber there was nothing else to call for a second visit. Most of the members of the archæologic
al missions then digging in the neighbourhood of Luxor were old hands and would have been down into my prison during their first seasons. It seemed that my hope of life hung upon the slender chance that some newcomer to one of the missions might decide on making the descent; or, perhaps, an Arab who had to do so once before he could qualify as a licensed guide. But unless one of them arrived in the next two days, which I reckoned was about the limit to which I could hold out without water, I felt that there was no chance of my ever seeing daylight again.

  Curiously enough, by the time I had got that far in my speculations all panic had left me and for the time being, at least, I felt almost resigned to die. I have never been afraid of death; since it can only be one of two things; either a complete black-out into nothingness or a passing on, as all religions encourage us to hope, into some more pleasant state.

  The black-out theory is argued very soundly by materialists but it has always seemed inconceivable to me that life should be quite meaningless and, if it is governed at all, the laws which govern it should be logical; in which case all-effort towards mental growth automatically leads us somewhere and, as there is no adequate reward for striving visible in this present life this postulates another where we shall reap what we have sown. Having once arrived at the conclusion that all the probabilities lie in favour of there being some form of life after death I had long since come to regard death as the beginning of the greatest adventure of all.