The Tenth Saint

by D. J. Niko

  “Of course I checked into it. The boys at divinity don’t believe it’s a crux ansata at all. They were firm about that. The Coptic cross has but one circle. A double circle such as this holds no theological symbolism. Concentric circle ideograms have been found on prehistoric cliff paintings in the Sahara, but those were pagan symbols.”

  “But what of the cross? Surely that has some religious significance. Especially considering its proximity to the monastery.”

  Simon huffed. “Sarah, take my advice and let that go. You have your hands full with your current task. There is no time for detours. Do you understand?”

  She understood perfectly, but there was no denying her intrigue. She hung up, annoyed that after all those years, the professor still treated her like a child. He’d known her since she was one—he and her father, Sir Richard Weston, had been childhood pals, university classmates, and explorers in the high Himalayan regions—but that didn’t give him the right to belittle her.

  As friendly as he was with her father, Simon had never warmed to Sarah. He saw her as a bit of a maverick, really. So when he’d insisted she lead the Aksum expedition, going against the conventional wisdom that demanded a more seasoned, preferably male, professional at the helm of a project so grave, she was more stunned than anyone. She’d wondered if her father had anything to do with it but kept her reservations to herself. She did not want to tamper with whatever alchemy had brought her the opportunity she’d wanted for so long.

  She splashed water on her face and changed the dressing on her stitched arm. Her curiosity would one day be her downfall, but she could not contain herself.

  She heard a knock at the door.

  “Sarah? It’s Aisha. Are you all right? The crew has been waiting an hour for instructions.”

  Sarah opened the door.

  Like a bewildered gazelle, the girl looked at her leader’s wounded arm.

  “I’m quite all right. Tell the crew to carry on digging east of the AB stele. Then fetch Dennis and Marcus and gather the rope and carabiners. We are going for a little walk.”

  Three

  In the lab, Sarah recorded metal tools and coins the crew had unearthed the day before. A car horn tore through the stillness of the summer morning. It could mean only one thing. Leave it to an American to announce his arrival in such a crass manner.

  She looked out the window, watching as Daniel Madigan stepped out of a beat-up, blue Land Cruiser. He looked just like he did in his documentaries: a rugged, square-jawed figure in dusty khaki shorts and a faded T-shirt from an old Smiths concert. A snake tattoo wrapped around his left bicep. His hair, which brushed the nape of his neck, was a jumble of loose chestnut waves with strokes of gray at the temples hinting at his fortysomething years. Darkened to a tobacco shade by the Arabian sun and sporting the lean muscular physique of someone who worked outdoors, he looked like a middle-aged rock star. He reached into the back of the Land Cruiser and pulled out two army-green duffels and an aluminum computer case. He was staying awhile.

  She walked outside to meet him, locking the door to the lab behind her. “Hello, Dr. Madigan. Welcome to Aksum.”

  “I see you know who I am,” he said in a southern drawl. “I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”

  She managed a tense smile. “Well. You need no introduction. Your reputation precedes you.”

  His gaze traveled slowly down her body. “As does yours. You are Lord Weston’s daughter, aren’t you?”

  She cringed. She hated when people referred to her as Lord Weston’s daughter, as if she had no value of her own. The comparison to her bigger-than-life father, a titled aristocrat and member of the British Parliament’s House of Lords, followed her everywhere, even on this dusty mountaintop in remotest Africa. She tried not to show her outrage. “You know my father,” she said with false politeness.

  “We met last year at the fund-raiser for Medecins Sans Frontières.” He butchered the French with his Tennessee accent. “Dreadful evening. If it weren’t for your father, I would have left after the foie gras. That guy’s one hell of a storyteller.”

  “I’m sure you have rather a lot in common,” she said, masterfully disguising her sarcasm.

  “Two men with a passion for exploration never run out of things to say. In fact, I was at his place in Belgravia for a dinner party just before leaving for the desert. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you about it.”

  “My father and I haven’t spoken for an absolute age. I’ve been rather busy with my own projects. Now, then, is this your first time in Ethiopia?”

  “Oh, heavens no. I spent a lot of time in Africa back in the eighties, researching in the Olduvai Gorge for my postdoctoral studies. I went back and forth between Ethiopia and Tanzania for the better part of a year. Then I hung out in Addis with some local skull diggers for a couple of months. We traveled up here for the hell of it. You know, sightseeing.”

  “Really? That surprises me. There’s a deep connection between the ancient Aksumites and the people of Arabia. I should think that would be of interest to you, Dr. Madigan.”

  “It is. But it wasn’t at the time. And for God’s sake, call me Danny.”

  “Very well.” She nodded toward one of the porters, a slight African with bare feet and a loose white gauze turban. “Soto will show you to your quarters. When you get settled, come meet me in the lab so I can brief you on our status.”

  He flashed a confident smile. “You’re the boss, lady.”

  Daniel turned up at the lab an hour later. Sarah was annoyed he’d taken the time to shower and change into a clean army-green T-shirt. In his place, she would have dropped her bags on the bed and left the room before the door had time to close. He hadn’t bothered to shave, though, leaving the dark stubble on his jawline.

  “So UNESCO hired you to consult with us.” She made no special effort to hide her reservations about the whole affair.

  “It’s more like I was on my way back to the States from Saudi Arabia and they asked me to stop by, since I was in the area and all.”

  “You make it sound like a social visit.”

  “We can think of it that way if you’d like.” He studied her pensively. “You don’t seem real happy to see me.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Don’t know. The fact that you are standing there with your arms and legs crossed. Your defensive tone of voice. The lightning bolts in your eyes.”

  She dismissed his suspicions with a scoff. “You’re quite wrong.”

  “Am I?”

  Sarah uncrossed her arms. She was not in the mood for a spar. “How much have you been told about our expedition?”

  “Let’s see. You’ve been here five months, twelve days. You have been taking ground-penetrating radar and electrotomographic readings, which indicate that there is a vast chamber, likely funerary, deep beneath the surface of the eastern stelae field. Your dig has uncovered some small objects—metal items, spearheads, coins, lithic fragments, that sort of thing—but you have not yet located an entrance. And because of that, a lot of people are getting antsy. Is that pretty much the size of it?”

  “Pretty much.” She walked to the table on which the objects were arranged for measurement and recording. “We have dated these to the fourth, fifth, and sixth centuries. Before Aksum’s demise. We are assuming the necropolis beneath the eastern field is of the same period. The fact that it is so vast and deep suggests it could be the burial ground of royalty or the wealthy ruling classes, so it could be a rather exciting find.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “We dig every day. Start before dawn, work until it gets too hot, take a break for lunch, and finish around dusk. I’ve got a crew on the site now. They’re making quite good progress.”

  “And you?”

  “I usually dig with them. But today I have to slip away for a couple of hours. Have to go into town for a few things.”

  “I can go with you.”

  “No, no, really, do stay here and famili
arize yourself with the project.”

  “Whatever you want. I’ll be on my way, then.” At the door, he turned around. “By the way, how did you get that nasty gash on your arm?”

  “Accident. I”—she stumbled on her words— “scraped it on some rocks.” Not a lie but not the whole truth either. He was the last person she would talk to about her encounter at the cliffs of Dabra Damo.

  From the doorway, she watched Daniel get into the Land Cruiser and drive toward the dig site. When she was sure he was out of view, she grabbed her backpack, locked up the lab, and jumped into her jeep.

  It had become a daily routine, this afternoon jaunt to the cliffs. She’d spent the first few mornings in town recruiting hands to build the elaborate wood scaffolding that enabled her to reach the escarpment without negotiating steep stone faces and scorpion-riddled gravel paths. She had put about a dozen locals to work under the supervision of her structural engineers, and together they’d constructed the elaborate wooden structure in record time. With the scaffold built, she and a couple of her most trusted colleagues had set about the task of moving the stones stacked next to the mysterious symbol.

  “Hello, gang,” she called as she reached the final rung of the scaffold. “Any luck today?”

  Dennis, one of the most senior members of the expedition and an archaeologist with whom she’d collaborated in Zimbabwe, was sitting on a pile of stones the crew had dislodged. His round face was pink from the sun and heat. With the corner of his T-shirt, he wiped the sweat off his glasses. “We’re gettin’ there,” he said in an East End accent. “Go on, then. Have a look.”

  She approached the area where they’d removed the stones and put her hand on the small opening. “Cool air.” She was surprised. “There’s got to be a cave back there.”

  “Too right. And my guess is this little rock formation here—”

  “Did not happen naturally,” she finished, excited. She could only imagine what lay behind the stones. But something was there. “Let’s concentrate on this portion of the structure. I want us to remove only enough rocks to make a vertical corridor one of us can fit through for the recon. Then we can decide how to proceed.”

  “Shouldn’t take too long. This is the weakest part of the structure. The stone practically crumbles.”

  Sarah and her crew went to work removing the rocks the rest of that afternoon, breaking them with pickaxes and dislodging them carefully by hand, until a narrow vertical shaft had been cut into the rock. Sarah shone her flashlight inside. She saw only rock, possibly the walls of a cave, but she couldn’t be sure. “I’m going for it. Aisha, rope me in.”

  Aisha looked about her. “Where’s the rope?”

  “Oh, bugger. I left it in the jeep. Right. Back in a flash.”

  She negotiated the scaffolding to the base of the cliff and ran the half mile to the jeep, parked off the nearest road. Daylight was dwindling fast. She rummaged through the trunk and cab, looking beneath maps and tools and loose sheets of random notes. She found the rope on the floorboard between the front seats. That explained why she’d accidentally left it behind.

  “So this is what you do when you go into town.”

  The voice behind her startled her so much she hit her head on the roll bar.

  “Sorry,” Daniel said. “Should’ve knocked.”

  “Are you following me?”

  “Yes, I am. I figure you’re lying to me, so this evens the score.”

  “Look, I’m in a hurry.” She brushed past him.

  “I don’t think so,” he called behind her. “I suggest you offer me an explanation. Unless you’d like me to give my own version to Dr. Simon and your funders.”

  ”Bastard,” she intoned behind clenched teeth. She had little patience for overbearing, self-important men.

  “You’re treating me like the enemy. Has it occurred to you that I’m here to help?”

  She turned to him. “Well, help me by going back to the dig.”

  He nodded at the scaffolding. “What’s up there? Or do I need to climb up and see for myself?”

  “This has nothing to do with you. It’s a little side project.”

  “A side project? With expedition crew and resources? Do you even have the proper permits to be here?”

  “For your information, our permits cover a twenty-mile radius from the valley of the stelae. So, as you can see, we’re perfectly within our rights to be here.”

  “So this is why your project has been so delayed.”

  She sighed in frustration and threw the rope to the ground. “Damn it, Madigan. What do you want from me?”

  “The truth would be nice.”

  “Fine. I see I have no choice but to tell you and wait for you to crucify me.”

  He walked toward her, stopping a few inches short. He spoke calmly, but a warning was in his eyes. “Don’t jump to conclusions, wildcat. You don’t know anything about me.”

  She edged back, studying his face. She couldn’t tell whether he was friend or foe, but he’d backed her into a corner and she had no choice but to come clean. “A couple of weeks ago, I came up here with one of the locals. He was taking me to see some caves with pottery fragments. Said he’d seen some glass, maybe even some jewelry. I slipped from the path and fell down that cliff, landing on the escarpment.”

  “Let me guess. That’s how you hurt your arm.”

  She nodded. “I saw the oddest thing. An ideogram that looked like a Coptic cross etched into the stone next to a pile of rocks. I e-mailed Dr. Simon right away. He told me off, saying I should be concentrating on finding the entrance to the necropolis because UNESCO are growing impatient and, as you well know, they pull the strings.”

  “But you defied him anyway.”

  “Don’t make it sound so criminal. I know something’s up there. I’m an archaeologist. I can’t look the other way. I have to trust my instincts.”

  He smiled. “And I suppose you think I can’t relate to that.”

  “I don’t know what to think. As you pointed out earlier, I know nothing about you. Except what I see on TV.” She couldn’t resist the dig.

  “What were you doing with the rope?”

  “We have removed some rocks and exposed a shaft—an entrance to what I think is a cave. I was planning to go in.” She looked at the sky. “Oh, what’s the use? We’ve lost too much light already.” She radioed her crew to instruct them to wrap up for the day.

  Daniel walked with Sarah to the jeep and helped her pack the equipment. “You know, I’m something of an expert on caves. Spent a good chunk of my career exploring them in the Empty Quarter, looking for the ruins of a city. I’d like to come with you tomorrow.”

  She opened her mouth to protest.

  He raised his hand. “I insist. The way I see it, you have no choice but to trust me.”

  They started at first light. With the rope tied securely around her waist, Sarah shimmied into the tight opening.

  Daniel followed. “I knew I shouldn’t have had that second piece of toast,” he joked, face pressed to the rock.

  She was not in the habit of laughing. For better or for worse, she was the serious type. Her colleagues often called her Stony, and she took it as a compliment.

  Once inside, they tapped on their headlamps to illuminate the blackness. The light shimmered on the cave walls, casting shadows on the nubby texture of the tubelike chamber. With their hands outstretched, they could touch the ceiling and the walls on both sides. The stone was crumbly and chalky and felt to Sarah like dried mud, which was curious since the mountains were mostly granitic.

  As they ventured farther in, the tunnel narrowed and they had to crouch to half stature, bending at the knees and waist.

  The mustiness and putrid sharpness of long-since rotted flesh overwhelmed her. The scent of death. Did someone live here? Or was it merely a long-abandoned animal den?

  “Over there …” Daniel pointed to a small sphincterlike opening.

  “Spot on. That might be the chute we
’re looking for.”

  “One way to find out. Let me go first, just in case there’s something foul in there.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said, pushing him aside. “Last I checked, I was still the leader of this expedition. That means I call the shots.”

  He didn’t press the issue. “Suit yourself. I just didn’t want you to think chivalry is dead.”

  She low-crawled through the opening, propelling herself with her forearms. The stone was cool and rough against her body, and the stench of decay and charred earth grew more fetid the deeper she went. She tried to ignore the urge to gag, but what was harder to ignore was the lack of air. Her lungs seemed compressed with a vise, making every breath an effort.

  Behind her, Daniel called, “Well? Do you see light at the end of the tunnel?”

  “No. No light,” she returned, her voice strained. “But watch yourself. There’s a bit of a turn ahead.”

  The tunnel swerved to the right, where it became wider. “I think we’re reaching a mouth. It seems to open right here.”

  “Can you see anything?”

  “It’s pitch black. Wait. What’s this?”

  “What? What is it?”

  “The passage turns downward.”

  “That’s your chute. I’ve seen those a hundred times, and they can be bad news. Watch yourself.”

  “It’s the only way through. I’m going for it.”

  “Sarah, I mean it, now. Be very careful.”

  “What’s the worry? We’re roped in.” She started down the chute. “Here we go. I’ll try to rappel down.” She descended, holding the rope with one hand and gripping the rock with the other. She used her feet to determine the width of the chute ahead.

  When the walls gave way and her feet dangled into the void, she knew she’d reached her destination. “Okay,” she yelled, tugging the rope. “Lower me down.”

  She had no idea how far down was or where she would land. It could be water, a festering pit of rats, or a mountain of guano teeming with cockroaches for all she knew.