The Seventh Scroll (Novels of Ancient Egypt)
Page 69
“I may not approve of you as Minister of Defence, but I can see that she makes a very charming Minister of Culture and Tourism in the interim government.”
“She will make an even more impressive Vice-President when we win next August,” Mek predicted easily, and at that moment Royan looked back over her shoulder at them.
“We’ll cross the road here,” she called. Nicholas had been so engrossed that he had not realized they had come up opposite to the new annexe to the Luxor Museum of Antiquities. The two women waited for them to catch up and then they separated and each of them took the arm of her own husband.
As they crossed the wide boulevard, threading their way between the slow clip-clopping horse-drawn gharries, Nicholas leaned down and brushed her cheek with his lips. “You are really quite delectable, Lady Quenton-Harper.”
“You make me blush, Sir Nicky,” she giggled. “You know that I am still not used to being called that.”
They reached the other side of the thoroughfare and paused before the entrance to the museum annexe. The sloping roof was supported by tall hypostyle columns, miniature copies of those at the temple of Karnak. The walls were made of massive blocks of yellow sandstone, and the lines of the building were clean and simple. It was very impressive.
Royan led them to the entrance doors of the museum, which was not yet open to the public. The President was flying up on Monday for the official opening, and Mek and Tessay were to be the official representatives of the Ethiopian government at the opening ceremony. The guards at the door saluted Royan respectfully and hurried to open the heavy brass-bound doors to let them pass.
The interior was hushed and cool, the air conditioning carefully regulated to preserve the ancient exhibits. The display cases were built into the sandstone walls, and the lighting was subtle and artful. It showed off the wondrous treasures of the Mamose funerary hoard to full advantage. The exhibits, arranged in ascending order of beauty and archaeological importance, sparkled and glowed in their nests of blue satin, the royal blue of the Pharaoh Mamose.
The four visitors were quiet and reverential as they passed, their voices soft and subdued as they asked questions of Royan. Wonder and amazement held them enthralled. They paused at the entrance of the final chamber, the one that housed the most extraordinary and valuable items in this glittering collection.
“To think that this is only a small part of what treasure still remains in Mamose’s tomb, sealed by the waters of the Dandera river,” whispered Tessay. “It’s so exciting that I can hardly wait for the adventure to continue.”
“I forgot to tell you!” Mek exclaimed, and it was clear from his triumphant grin that he had not forgotten at all, but had been merely waiting for the appropriate moment to impart his news. “The Smithsonian have confirmed their grant to redam the Dandera and reopen the tomb. It will be a joint venture between the Institution and the governments of our two countries, Egypt and Ethiopia.”
“That is wonderful news,” Royan exclaimed delightedly. “The tomb itself will be one of the great archaeological sites of the world, and a huge source of tourist revenue for Ethiopia—”
“Not so fast,” Mek interrupted her. “There is one condition that they stipulate.”
Royan looked crestfallen. “What is their condition?”
“They insist that you, Royan, take on the job of director of the project.”
She clapped her hands with delight, and then put on a mock-serious expression. “However, I have my own condition before I accept,” she said.
“And what is that?” Mek demanded.
“That I am able to appoint my own assistant on the dig.”
Mek let out a roar of laughter. “We all know who that will be.” And he clapped Nicholas on the back. “Just make sure that none of the artifacts cling to his sticky little fingers!” he warned.
Royan hugged Nicholas around the waist. “He has completely reformed, I will now give you final proof of that.” Still clinging to her husband, she led them into the last chamber.
Mek and Tessay stopped in the entrance, silent with awe as they stared at the contents of the free-standing display case of armoured glass in the centre of the room. The red and white crown of the united kingdoms of upper and lower Egypt stood side by side with the glistening golden death-mask of Pharaoh Mamose in the brilliant light of the overhead spotlights.
At last Mek Nimmur recovered from the shock. Advancing slowly to the front panel of the display case, he stooped to read aloud the brass plate fixed to the front of it: “‘The permanent loan of Sir Nicholas and Lady Quenton-Harper.’”
He turned back to stare at Nicholas incredulously. “And you were the one who picked on me for turning over the money from the sale of the blue crown!” he accused him. “How could you bring yourself to give up your share of the loot, Nicholas?”
“It wasn’t easy,” Nicholas admitted with a sigh, “but I was faced with a delicate ultimatum from a certain party who is not standing a million miles away from us at this very moment.”
“Don’t feel too sorry for the poor boy,” Royan laughed. “He still has a big lump of Peter Walsh’s money tucked away in Switzerland, the proceeds of the sale of the Nemes crown. I was unable to talk him into handing everything over.”
“Enough of these public disclosures of my domestic affairs,” said Nicholas firmly. “The sun is long gone, and it’s whisky time. I think I saw a bottle of Laphroaig behind the bar at the hotel. Let’s go and find out if I was mistaken.”
He took Royan’s arm and led her away, and the other two followed closely, laughing delightedly at his discomfort.
ALSO BY
WILBUR SMITH
THE COURTNEYS
When the Lion Feeds
The Sound of Thunder
A Sparrow Falls
Birds of Prey
Monsoon
Blue Horizon
The Triumph of the Sun
THE COURTNEYS OF AFRICA
The Burning Shore
Power of the Sword
Rage
A Time to Die
Golden Fox
THE BALLANTYNE NOVELS
A Falcon Flies
Men of Men
The Angels Weep
The Leopard Hunts in Darkness
ALSO
The Dark of the Sun
Shout at the Devil
Gold Mine
The Diamond Hunters
Eagle in the Sky
The Eye of the Tiger
Cry Wolf
Hungry as the Sea
Wild Justice
Elephant Song
River God
Warlock
The Sunbird
CRITICAL ACCLAIM FOR WILBUR SMITH’S
THE SEVENTH SCROLL
“A cache of buried pleasure … A worthy successor to River God. The plot twists and turns with constant surprises. This old-fashioned adventure novel keeps the reader enthralled all the way to its very exciting conclusion.”
—Washington Post Book World
“Should be read and enjoyed as grand adventure.”
—Poisoned Pen
“An entertaining yarn.”
—Fort Worth Star-Telegram
“This well-crafted novel is full of adventure, tension and intrigue.”
—Library Journal
“Smith, the master storyteller that he is, had me hooked from the beginning … After so many bestsellers with the lawyer as hero, it is a welcome change to have heroines and villains painted in great bold primary colors instead of shades of gray, where the action takes place in some of the most remote and beautiful places on earth, and the prize is a room full of gold and the love of a woman.”
—BookPage
PRAISE FOR WILBUR SMITH’S NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER RIVER GOD
“A grand tale of intrigue, deception, true love and exile.”
—Denver Post
“High adventure … There is never a lull in this majestic novel overflowing with passion
, rage, treachery, barbarism, prolonged excitement and endless passages of sheer, exquisite color.”
—Washington Post
“Vivid detail. Sumptuous storytelling. A feast.”
—Detroit Free Press
“A grand adventure, a love story and a treasure chest of archaeology and history, by a writer who knows Africa.”
—San Jose Mercury News
“An epic … Smith joins the ranks of one of the grand masters of twentieth-century novels.”
—Tulsa World
“Vivid and fascinating … Packed with passion, war, intrigue and revenge.”
—Orlando Sentinel
“A rich, compelling look back in time when history and myth intermingled.”
—San Francisco Chronicle
First published in Great Britain by Macmillan London.
THE SEVENTH SCROLL
Copyright © 1995 by Wilbur Smith.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
ISBN: 0-312-95757-2
EAN: 80312-95757-5
St. Martin’s Press hardcover edition / April 1995
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / April 1996
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
eISBN 9781466868229
First eBook edition: March 2014