The tomb of a Queen
As Damon and Alice entered the inner chamber an eerie sight greeted them in the diffused light that filtered through the doorway from the lone lamp in the outer chamber.
In the centre of the room lay a stone larnax, plain and unadorned. There was no other object in the room. But it was not the emptiness of the chamber or the simplicity of the larnax that stood out.
On the wall of the chamber facing the doorway, an immense stone snake seemed to emerge from the floor of the tomb. The massive coils of the snake’s body wound from the floor, across the length of the far wall, up to the roof of the chamber, terminating in a massive five-headed hood, which protruded from the wall for around three feet over the stone larnax on the floor below. Its enormous jaws gaped open and its fangs were bared, as if expressing displeasure at an unwelcome intrusion.
Like a protective shelter for the larnax. Alice couldn’t help the thought flashing through her head. As it was in life, so it was in death for this queen.
Adding to this surreal vision were the carvings on the remaining walls of the chamber. There were serpents carved in bold relief, coiled, hissing, and stretched out. In the dim light, they looked like stone shadows about to leap off the wall.
Marco staggered in with both the pole lights and stopped short as he saw the strange decoration in the tomb.
‘What on earth is this?’ he whispered, overawed.
Alice looked at her two companions excitedly. ‘It is her tomb!’ Her voice trembled with the thrill of the discovery. For the last twelve months they had been hoping that their guess about the occupant of the tomb had been correct. Now, all doubts were laid to rest.
‘Um… you’ll want to see this.’ Marco had been walking around the chamber, studying the carvings. The chamber was fairly large, at least fifty feet in length. Marco was now standing in the far corner of the chamber opposite the entrance, just below one of the massive coils of the snake that towered over them.
Alice and Damon hurried up to see what he had found. Hidden behind the bulk of the snake, as it reared off the wall, was an opening. They looked at each other. Was there a third chamber? This was unusual for a Hellenistic tomb.
Marco didn’t need to be told. He was already carrying one of the lamps to illuminate the hidden doorway, revealing a small chamber lined with two rows of shelves which bore stone statues and stone slabs of different sizes.
Alice and Damon proceeded to examine the contents of the shelves.
‘She certainly had a fascination for snakes,’ Damon remarked, studying a five-inch-tall statuette carved from stone which depicted a beautiful, young woman trapped in the coils of an enormous serpent which was wrapped around her from head to toe.
Alice nodded. ‘Remember that Alexander III was said to have been fathered by a serpent. I guess the stories about her fascination for snakes were true after all.’
‘This is amazing,’ Damon remarked as he read the inscriptions on a square tablet, which was around ten inches long. ‘These texts can fill in many of the gaps about what actually happened after Alexander the Great died.’
Alice nodded, as she studied the tablets and statuettes on the shelves.
Damon looked at his watch. ‘We should inform HQ. They’re waiting for us. They’ll want to leave right away to see this for themselves.’
‘Mmm. Why don’t you carry on to the hotel and wait for them? I’ll finish photographing the tomb.’ Alice was already pulling out the camera from her bag. ‘I’ll also tag the artefacts and pack them in the containers.’
‘Thanks. I’ll send Marco back for you.’ Damon smiled at her and left, followed by Marco.
Alice looked around as an enormous sigh escaped her. This was the high point of her career as an archaeologist. She busied herself clicking photographs of the chambers, the larnax and the murals.
After she had finished, she turned her attention to the artefacts in the hidden chamber, carefully photographing each one before she packed them in the padded containers.
‘Hey, what’s this?’ she muttered to herself as she picked up the final artefact, a yellowing cube with inscriptions on five sides. It had been hidden until now behind the statuettes and clay tablets. At first she thought it was made from ancient bone which had discoloured over the centuries. But, as she turned it over in her hands and studied it in the light of the lamps, she realised that it was actually carved from ivory. The “cross-hatch” or wavy pattern that is so distinctive in ivory was clearly visible in the strong light of the lamps.
‘Ivory in Madeconia two thousand four hundred years ago?’ she muttered to herself. ‘That’s strange. There weren’t elephants in these parts.’
‘You done?’
Alice jumped and almost dropped the cube. She turned to see Marco grinning at her.
‘You startled me,’ she complained light-heartedly. ‘Don’t go doing that to folks who are alone in dark ancient tombs.’
‘Sorry,’ Marco grinned back, his voice betraying his excitement. It wasn’t every day that a student got to be a part of a discovery like this. ‘But you were talking to yourself, so I couldn’t resist it. Damon’s spoken to HQ. They’re on their way. Oh, by the way, Damon asked you to get the cube with you. Apparently the directors want to see it.’ He indicated the ivory cube that Alice was still holding.
‘Sure. I just need to photograph and tag it.’ She photographed all the sides of the cube, placed it in a container like the other artefacts and then dumped the container in her backpack along with the camera.
‘Great. I’m done here. Let’s get these to the dig hut.’ Alice led the way out of the tomb. Together, they lugged the containers containing the artefacts to the dig hut, and carefully laid them out on the central table. Alice was sure the two directors would want to see these immediately, since they had specifically asked for them to be removed from the tomb.
‘Done.’ Marco slipped off his white gloves and looked at her expectantly.
Alice nodded. ‘Let’s go.’ They locked the door of the dig hut. There were two guards posted at the site and it was miles from anywhere, so it was unlikely that anyone would steal the artefacts. But this was the discovery of the millennium, so one couldn’t take chances.
Back at the hotel, which was little more than a cluster of rustic villas, Alice made her way to her room while Marco parked the car and left to find Damon. ‘I’ll join you guys in five minutes,’ she told Marco. She knew that she was just trying to postpone the inevitable. All through the excavations, she had avoided interacting with the two directors as far as possible, leaving Damon to brief them, report to them and take instructions where required. But tonight there was no escape. She would have to accompany Stavros and Peter, the two co-directors of the mission, to the tomb. She wasn’t very fond of either of them and she was aware that the sentiment was reciprocated by both of them. But, as one of the lead archaeologists on this mission, there was no getting away from them tonight. And, as the team’s expert on the period in which the tomb had been built, she knew the two directors would want to hear her views on the bizarre discoveries within the tomb.
As she contemplated this unwelcome thought, a staccato chopping sound filled the night. A helicopter, passing by overhead, very low. The sound of the chopper continued for a while and then suddenly died down, almost as if the machine had landed somewhere nearby.
Alice was still focused on the unpleasant task ahead of her. Sighing, she took out her laptop and camera and placed them on the desk in the room. She slipped her mobile phone and the memory stick from the camera into her waist pouch and rose to make her way to Damon’s villa.
As she placed her hand on the doorknob, an insistent tap came from the window that overlooked the garden. It was unbarred and the shade was up, so she could see Marco’s frightened face pressed against the window pane very clearly. It was white with fear, as if the blood had all been drained away from his face. He tapped again, with greater urgency, indicating that she should open the window.
Alice retraced her steps and let Marco in through the window. ‘What…’ she began, wondering what had terrified Marco, but stopped short as Marco burst into tears.
3
Out of the frying pan…
‘They killed Damon,’ Marco blubbered, collapsing into a heap on the floor. ‘Peter shot him. Just like that.’
Alice couldn’t comprehend what Marco was saying for a few moments. What was he babbling about? He wasn’t making any sense. Why would Peter shoot Damon?
She knelt down beside the weeping boy and put her hand on his shoulder reassuringly. ‘Tell me what happened,’ she said gently. ‘I’m sure it is all a misunderstanding.’
‘I saw it with my own eyes!’ Marco wailed. ‘Stavros was shouting at Damon. He was angry with Damon for leaving you alone in the tomb and for letting you photograph the artefacts. He said that Damon should have brought the cube to show them.’ A fresh flood of tears welled up in his eyes and he choked on his words.
Alice waited patiently, offering him a box of tissues. Suddenly she felt she was in a dream. A very unpleasant dream. She wished to be woken up right now.
Marco blew his nose loudly and continued. ‘Then Peter took out a gun. He told Damon that he was a liability since he didn’t follow instructions.’ He paused as he recollected the scene he had witnessed through the open windows of Damon’s villa. ‘Damon was terrified. He pleaded, begged for Peter to give him another chance. He was crying. But Peter wouldn’t listen. He just shot him.’ Marco’s sobbing renewed.
Alice stood up as she heard the sound of people racing down the corridor leading to her villa. Was it Stavros and Peter? The reality of her situation suddenly hit her like a cold shower on a snowy winter’s day, shocking her into action.
She sprinted for the door and double bolted it. That would buy them some time. If Damon had been killed, there was no doubt about what would happen to Marco and her.
‘We have to get out of here,’ she voiced her thoughts to Marco. ‘Come on.’
She hefted her backpack and slid out through the window just as someone tried the door.
‘It’s locked!’ That was Peter.
‘Break it open!’ That was Stavros.
The sound of an assault on the door came to them. The latch shook with the impact but stayed fast.
Alice looked at the door and then glanced at Marco, who was frozen where he sat, staring at the door like a deer caught in the headlights of a car on a forest path. She knew it wouldn’t be long before they broke through.
‘Marco!’ she hissed, not daring to shout. If Peter knew that she was aware of what had happened, they would guess that she was trying to flee and would take action to pre-empt her. ‘Get the hell out of there!’
Her voice seemed to jolt Marco back to reality. He stood up shakily and tottered to the window, sliding out and onto the grassy lawn just as the latch gave way and Peter burst into the room.
‘On the lawn!’ Peter yelled, as he dashed to the window.
Alice didn’t wait to see what was happening behind her but grabbed Marco’s hand and sprinted away from the villa. She didn’t know if the two co-directors were accompanied by anyone but she was guessing they weren’t by themselves.
Two soft coughs sounded and bullets whistled past
their ears.
Alice realised that someone was shooting at them and the gun was fitted with a sound suppressor.
She raced across the lawn, dragging Marco behind her, to where the Land Cruiser, which was their official transport, stood.
As she ran, Marco suddenly seemed to grow heavier. One moment she was pulling him forward, the next he was an immovable object, as if set in stone.
Alice glanced back at Marco as he slumped to the ground. His face was a mask of red and his hair was drenched in blood. The bullets had found their mark.
For a precious moment, she hesitated, tears welling in her eyes. She was torn between her own safety and the tragedy she was witnessing now. A young boy, his life brutally cut short. And for what?
More coughs rang out and her instinct took over. Reluctantly, she let go of Marco’s hand and slid swiftly into the driver’s seat.
The key was in the ignition. Marco must have left it there, in anticipation of driving the co-directors to the tomb site. The engine complained and then revved up as she accelerated, heading out onto the dirt road that led to the tomb.
As she raced down the dirt track, she heard shouts behind her. The coughs rang out once again, and bullets thudded into the Land Cruiser as she pressed the accelerator to the floor. She had to get to the tomb. There were two armed guards at the tomb site and they would protect her from the madness that suddenly seemed to have broken loose here.
It didn’t take long for her to arrive at the excavation site. To Alice’s surprise, it was dark and silent. The floodlights which had been fitted to light up the excavation were off and so were the generators powering them.
Where were the guards?
She jumped out of the vehicle and stumbled across the uneven ground. Though she knew her way around, she had never been here after dark, aided only by the light of the stars.
Abruptly, she tripped over something heavy on the ground and just about managed to regain her balance.
Shocked, she realised that it was Geordi, one of the guards. She bent down to check on him but there was no pulse. He
was dead.
She stood up warily, confused; caught between the need to understand what was happening here, and her instinct, which was telling her to flee.
Even as she struggled with her thoughts, a dark shadow clambered out of the shaft that led to the underground tomb.
Alice froze. Only now did she see the helicopter, an immense shadow off to one side.
Her mind was a whirl of confused thoughts of which one stood out clearly. She was trapped.
4
A call for help
Anwar!
Imran stared at the email he had just received, unable to believe his eyes.
Anwar and Imran had grown up together in Meerut before Anwar moved to Lucknow to stay with his uncle, after losing both his parents. That was years ago, but the two boys had kept in touch as they grew up. While Imran had joined the IPS, Anwar had started a small business in Lucknow that hadn’t done too well over the years. But the two had remained good friends.
Until five years ago when Anwar had suddenly vanished without a trace.
And now, he had turned up out of nowhere. A ghost from the past.
A surge of anticipation coursed through Imran’s being as he felt the exuberance of connecting once more with his old friend. He opened the email. And felt like someone had punched him in the face.
It contained two words.
Help Anwar
… and into the fire
Alice stood, immobilised, as the shadow emerged from the shaft and advanced towards her. She saw it move one hand to its hip and realised it was reaching for a weapon.
Abandoning all thoughts of trying to find out what was happening, she turned and sprinted back towards the car, opening the driver’s door and sliding into the seat in one motion, as shots rang out, shattering the silence of the night. This gun had no silencer. There was no need for stealth here.
Bullets smacked into the windows, shattering them, as she struggled to start the car.
A bullet whizzed past her face and embedded itself in the passenger seat next to her.
The Land Cruiser’s powerful engine roared to life and the tyres skidded on the gravel as she reversed at top speed. Alice threw the vehicle into forward gear and raced away from the tomb. Another bullet thudded into the stereo system and she bent low over the wheel, hysterical with fear, trying to control her panic, one thought racing through her head.
She had to get away.
Behind her, she heard the helicopter start up and she knew that the intruders were going to hunt her down and kill her.
Who were these people and what did they wa
nt?
Sobbing and shaking with fear, she sped towards the E75, the toll road that led to Thessaloniki. It was the only thing she could think of at the moment.
The sound of the helicopter pursuing her followed in her wake. She pressed hard on the steering wheel of the Land Cruiser as if that would make the vehicle go faster.
But she knew that the helicopter would overtake her. It was just a matter of time.
Searching for Anwar
‘Back to the office,’ Imran barked to his driver. ‘Use the beacon!’
The driver obediently turned back, switching on the beacon, and speeded up. Imran knew he was stretching his official privileges. It was something he never did, but right now he didn’t care. He knew one thing for sure from the message he had received. His friend was in trouble.
And Imran was going to do everything he could to help.
As they raced back towards IB headquarters Imran barked orders into his phone. The red beacon ensured that traffic made way for them. It was as if the traffic jams miraculously melted away, like snow under a deluge of salt.
Back in his office, Imran summoned his team.
‘Okay, so what do we have?’ His voice was surprisingly calm. His anger was on a tight leash, his apparent calmness a thin veneer disguising his worry that he might be too late to help his friend. He was sure that Anwar had been interrupted while typing the message which had prevented him from providing more details.
‘We have a trace on the IP address,’ one of his men reported. ‘It’s a server in Delhi. We have an approximate location,’ he showed Imran a printout of a map with a dot in red marking the location, ‘but it could be anywhere within 50 kilometres of this spot.’
Imran looked at him. ‘I want an exact location. I want the physical address.’
‘Sir, you know that needs a court order. I can call
the ISP…’
‘We can’t wait for a court order,’ Imran interrupted him. Every second was valuable. They didn’t have the luxury of affording discussions. ‘We don’t have time to explain to the ISP. This is an emergency.’
THE MAHABHARATA QUEST:THE ALEXANDER SECRET Page 3