Chapter Fifty-Two
Two hours later, mental anguish outweighed Jazz’s physical exhaustion. “This is crazy. If anything was obvious in these caves, the Christians would have found it a couple of millennia ago.” She groaned. “Whatever is buried on that little beach was destroyed centuries earlier. The silt is almost a metre thick.”
“They were frightened, Jazz, not stupid.”
“They were wandering around in the desert for a couple of hundred years. If the Nile was low, they might not have known about it rising.”
Francisco shrugged. “The Ancients told stories about the powerful Nile. They would not have buried anything too close to it. Let’s go outside. We have missed something. You said it; Nefertiti would have prepared the perfect hiding place.”
Jazz followed him into the cool morning air. Below, the boatman slept in the felucca. Above them, palm leaves swayed in the breeze. Dawn was stirring. She grimaced. “You can’t see the obelisk from here. The palm trees obscure the view.”
“In all probability they weren’t there then.”
“Even so, it would be hard to see the obelisk from the cove. You certainly couldn’t see the obelisk from inside a cave. We forgot the basic instruction. They buried it in sight of the obelisk. It must be at the top of the bank. It’s the only place the obelisk is in full view.”
He nodded. “It makes sense.”
“The old city was deserted, so they would have had no fear. They would have taken time to choose the place, or they were going to a specific place. If Nefertiti had made a secret place, the knowledge would have passed through the generations. The evidence is hidden somewhere in the rocks above us. They may not harness the spirit of animals, but they may hold Nefertiti’s spirit.”
Francisco rubbed his hands together, then mouthed “Genius.”
Jazz glowed with pride. “Come on, we don’t have time to waste. Whoever buried the documents took days. We have an hour, maybe two.”
“With you we don’t need days.” He pulled her up.
Jazz felt the electricity between them and immediately dropped his hand. “Race you up the embankment.”
She was quicker. She turned as she reached the top then grinned. “Francisco, look, the old guy was right about the lion, it’s shaped like a reclining one. We were stupid not to have come here first.”
Francisco stared at the strange-looking rocks. “The lion shape wasn’t visible from the river. This erosion dates back to when this place was a rainforest, rather than a desert.”
She half-listened as she traced her fingers around the paw like indentations. No one had broken the stone, nor had anyone dug underneath it. It was solid rock.
“The legend of the Sphinx claims there is a secret chamber under its paw. If that chamber exists, the secrets it held were taken a long time ago.”
“Perhaps but Sirius is the mirror image of the sun. This could be the mirror image of the Sphinx.”
“Is what we are looking for under a paw?” Francisco asked.
“It must be. Feel for something uneven.”
A fruitless twenty minutes later Jazz groaned. “I’m stupid; the people respected this rock too much to deface it. The opening must be close to the paw base but not on the rock itself.”
He said nothing as they each took a giant paw and began to feel the area in front of it.
Moments later, he raised his head and yelled: “Got it; it’s a jagged opening.” He put the torch closer to the hole, singeing his hair as he bent down.
“This groove in the rock feels like it was man-made. It could be a crude key hole for an underground chamber.”
“We need a key?” Jazz swallowed her disappointment.
Francisco scrambled to his feet, painfully aware this was his best and last shot. He pulled a piece of polished rock from his trouser pocket and held it up so Jazz could see it.
“It was in Dad’s safety deposit box. I almost didn’t take it, but I figured he had put it there for a reason. I did not understand the markings then, but I do now. The dealer must have given it to him with the ring.”
He slotted it into the groove, then pulled a face. “It fits, but I can’t budge the stone.” He threw it to the ground in disgust.
Jazz picked it up, tracing the outline with her fingers. “Someone took time to engrave this.” She handed it back to him. “Try moving it twice.”
He shook his head. “No good.”
She visualised the diagram. “There were three balls; try moving it three times.”
He slid the stone up and down three times, and slowly the rock gave way.
Moving closer, he peered into the abyss. “We will need professional equipment to break the rock open wide enough to get in. Even then it will take days.”
“I don’t think so.” She shook her head vehemently.
“Admit it, Jazz” – he tried to smile – “without serious machinery and professional help we are doomed.”
Jazz looked around, her mind surfing on adrenalin. “The women got in and out without help.”
“We don’t know that. Men could have accompanied them. We have no idea how long they were here. They had time; we don’t.”
“The women were afraid the men would destroy the documents. There must be another way in. Nefertiti was well-versed in the wiles of men. She would have prepared a place for the evidence to be hidden if things didn’t work out in Israel. We went off-piste from the diagram once; we need to follow it now.
The spheres are the clue. See if you can find a pile of three stones.”
They scanned the area. “Got them,” she yelled. He rushed to her side and appraised the metre-round boulders she was pointing to. They would be difficult to shift. He rolled up his sleeves and sat on the ground so he could use his back for leverage. It took a few minutes to move them enough to reveal the cavity underneath. “Without the diagram, you would never guess this was here. It’s a typical Egyptian method of hiding something; even so it is incredible.”
Jazz inspected the hole closely. “I can squeeze through it,” she yelled dropping into the hole before he could protest.
“Hand me the torch.” She reached upwards as he bent down to give it to her.
“Be careful, Jazz, there will be poisonous spiders down there, and snakes.”
“Must you make it so enticing?” She tried to blot the images from her mind as she breathed in to squeeze through the tight fissure. The torchlight created menacing shadows on the rock wall in front of her. But she was too excited to be terrified. Then her heart fell: another large rock blocked her route.
“Damn, these Egyptians really believed in protecting their secrets; they were masters of deception.” She made her way back along the narrow tunnel towards Francisco as fast as she could.
“What’s wrong?” Francisco yelled.
“A boulder is jammed into the entrance. Nefertiti must have built the chamber when she lived in Amarna; talk about forward planning. It looks like a rock fall. You would never know anything was behind it.”
Francisco wondered if it was indeed a rock fall. He kept his thoughts to himself as Jazz yelled up at him.
“Women wouldn’t have had the strength to manoeuvre the boulder open. Nefertiti used something to help her. Can you hand me the little stone key?”
He lay on the ground and handed it to her, hoping she was right.
Seconds later she slid the stone into the groove. It fitted like a finger in a glove. She repeated the action three times – everything else had worked on three – then gasped as the rock sprang open.
The stale musty smell of almost three thousand years filled her nostrils. She spotted the three storage jars propped up by the wall. “They’re here.”
Her voice echoed around the cave as she gathered one up and then made her way slowly back through the fissure. It was difficult because she had to pass each one through.
Francisco peered down at her and her hand shook with excitement as she held it up for him to take. Ten minutes later t
hey sat within the paws of the lion staring at the jars.
“We should open them in the caves, to reduce the chance of destroying them.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for them to be opened in a proper lab? If we destroy the evidence, we have nothing.” Jazz was genuinely afraid.
“It’s a chance we have to take. There may be nothing inside, or it could be a list of agricultural instruments. We need to know what is in one of them at least.”
His insistence scared her. “They’re valuable documents, Francisco. We only get one shot at this.”
“We also need to check their authenticity. We have to open one. We can open the others in a more environmentally friendly place if it makes you feel better. It will be dawn soon. We don’t have much time.” Francisco picked up two of the jars. “Are you okay with that one?”
“I won’t drop it, if that’s what you mean.” She pulled a face at him, surprised by her confidence. “Come on, let’s get going.”
They made their way carefully down the riverbank, and then entered the first cave they came to.
Jazz stared at the three storage jars. “Which one?”
“The one you carried is our lucky charm.” He tapped the jar with the stone they had used as a key. “I want to find the fault line so that it breaks into two pieces, not a thousand.”
She nodded, hardly daring to breathe, as the jar broke open to reveal a rolled parchment.
Francisco gently picked it up, then held it out to her. “Dad would want you to read it. Just be careful how you unroll it.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Not for the first time, Jazz felt the past reach out to her, as she stared at the parchment.
“Take it.” He waved the papyrus at her.
“Hold the torch behind me.” For once she didn’t notice his closeness. Her face dropped as she unrolled it.
“I can’t understand it.”
Francisco rolled his eyes. “Great.”
“What do you mean? I have no idea what it says,” she snapped back.
“Then the chances are it is authentic.” He looked over her shoulder making her acutely aware of him.
“It is written in a hieratic script, commonly used throughout Egypt millennia ago. Dad took the precaution of teaching me to read it as a young boy. He made me practice every day.”
He coughed nervously. “Should I translate it?”
“No, read it, but don’t tell me what’s in it.”
They both laughed. “Okay, here goes…”
“‘It is almost two hundred years since Nefertiti led her people out of the land of Egypt to protect and continue the old beliefs. During our time in Egypt, we pretended to worship the sun disc Aten. If they had known we were trying to preserve the memory of Nommo and Kasha they would have destroyed us. As her husband built temples and paid homage to Aten, Nefertiti gathered treasure in Akhetaten to establish the New Kingdom.
When she lived, it was easy for the men to believe in her. After her death, the people were afraid, wandering around the desert like sheep searching for a shepherd. To hide their shame they invented a new past. Slowly, stories emerged of a man who had spoken to the one true god. The stories of Moses, who led us out of the land of Egypt and gave us commandments direct from this god, are so commonplace that even I almost believe them. It is hard to keep faith with the past when everyone around you denies it.
When Nommo fell from the sky, he taught us to honour every living creature. The men who falsely claim to be descendants of the mythical Moses have no respect for Nefertiti or the ways of the past. They make up stories of people who lived centuries before Moses, who claim to be the descendants of a man called Abraham and a couple, Adam and Eve, who lived in God’s garden, but hated it so much that they escaped.
Their stories grow more real with each passing camp fire. They do not mention the great monuments now claimed as Egyptian. The Egyptians were also guilty of destroying the true past to massage their egos. These men do not want to hear stories of Nommo. They are like their Egyptian forefathers, who sought to eradicate the names of Nommo and Kasha.
More than seven thousand years ago, Kasha channelled the will of Nommo to create lasting structures here on earth, in the form of the great Sphinx and Pyramid.
As time distanced us from our ancestors, people claimed the glories of the Sphinx and the Great Pyramid as their own. They became Egyptians. Now the pattern of deceit is repeated. If we dare to speak the truth we will be killed, such is their hatred of the past.
They mix the Egyptian gods of Isis and Ra with El, the god they have created in a homage to their past, and call their new kingdom ¨Israel¨.
I hope and pray the truth will live on. Men seek to massage their egos, not preserve the truth.
I brought the papyri here, to Nefertiti’s secret place. They will lie safe in the lion’s custody, until someone worthy of the truth finds them.
We are not alone; other creatures live in the stars and planets. They may not visit us in a physical form, but they reverberate around the universes, for those who have the humility to absorb them.’”
Francisco put his hand up. “She is talking about a reverberating echo. It’s the proof we are looking for.”
Jazz wondered: did one person’s written word make it true?
She tried to focus on his words, and not her own doubts, as he continued to read.
“‘Nefertiti, like Kasha before her, understood the power of the echo. Her attempts to preserve the legacy will perish in the sands of men’s egos and their desire for power.
She sought to change the minds of men. When she lived she succeeded. Her death spawned a new past. The truth lies in as many pieces as there are grains of desert sand.
I pray the lies of these men will be destroyed. If they are not I fear their stories will be so embedded in the human psyche they will be impossible to dislodge.
Ask yourself: what is the evidence of Moses’ existence? The Egyptians recorded everything, except what they did not want to remember. They made no record of how the Great Pyramid was built, or how the Sphinx was carved, because they did not know. The bare hands of man with their simple saws could not create such monuments alone.
I, Kasmut, pray the echo of Nommo will allow you see the truth.’”
Francisco pointed to the papyrus. “It confirms what we have guessed, and more. Hopefully the other two papyri will tell us about the creation of the Sphinx and the Great Pyramid.”
“I hope so. It’s obvious that the Great Pyramid and the Sphinx weren’t made by the Egyptians, yet the world is seduced into believing they were.”
“Seduction is a powerful weapon. People will do anything not to hear the truth.”
“How will the Jews and Christians react when we tell them the god they know does not exist? Then there are the Muslims, who come from a different branch of the same religious tree. It’ll send people crazy. I’m not sure if it’s fair to destroy people’s beliefs.”
“We know the truth. Don’t you think people have a right to know the truth too, to make a choice?”
Jazz shook her head. “Honestly? I really don’t know any more.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
They had been riding for almost three hours. Cara’s arms were wrapped around Akhoum’s waist. Her nose was pressed into his back. She was drowning in his blissfully familiar smell.
“Have you a plan once we find them? Francisco won’t trust you, because of Hassid. I’ll make his anger worse. He must hate my guts.” Akhoum’s words bit into her thoughts.
“He doesn’t know you.”
“Come on, Cara; I stole Hassid’s woman, it’s enough to drive a saint crazy.”
A wave of joy rippled through her. “You can’t steal what you already have. I was faithful to you in love. I married Hassid for a purpose. It was a stupid thing to do, but it kept the fool alive.”
“Kept him alive?”
“Hassid dabbled in dangerous Egyptian history. He said as much the other night. I was ask
ed a few times if he was really on to something. Of course the fool wasn’t, but as Marcos was his uncle, they would have killed him, if it wasn’t for me.”
“You really think Francisco will buy into the notion that you married Hassid to save him?”
“I made some bad decisions. I want to wipe the slate clean.”
“Shhh.” Akhoum jerked the lolloping camel to a halt. “Look over there.” He pointed towards the river.
Cara peered into the moonlit landscape and caught sight of the wisp of a top sail.
Her heart skipped a beat. “They’re still here. We have a chance.”
Akhoum sucked in air. “When Jazz and Francisco don’t turn up at the site, Abdul will have his worst suspicions confirmed. He will have armed men crawling all over this place. At a guess I’d say I am the only one armed. We can’t outrun them. All we have is a felucca and a camel.”
“If it’s a choice between you and the secret, I would rather have you.”
He chewed his lip. A few hours earlier there had been a glimmer of hope for escape. “Abdul will not rest until he finds me and kills me. We both knew what we were getting in to.”
“I know why I’m here. And knowing you, you have a plan.”
He grinned: even in this desperate situation Cara could lighten his heart just by being there. “It’s more like our best shot. While you convince Francisco and Jazz of your sincerity, I will get the felucca man to take the camel back to town. Without a camel, no one will know we are here. We can hide a little further upstream with Jazz and Francisco, then circle back to the Amarna site.”
“Abdul is there. Why put ourselves in more danger?”
“We can hijack his plane; I can fly it. It’s our best chance to escape. If Francisco knows we have an exit strategy, it might convince him that we’re on his side. Even if it doesn’t, he will know we aren’t his worst enemies. They are still lurking in the shadows. We are his only chance. He can’t get out of this without us.”
The Ghost Reapers Page 24