The Seventh Scroll tes-2

by Wilbur Smith

  Her buttocks were round and white as a pair of ostrich eggs.

  elm and his men worked late that night in the Pegasus workshop, making

  the wooden crates to house both the stele and the coffin securely. At

  dawn the next day they were loaded on to one of the heavy trucks,

  cushioned with thick "rubber matting and strapped down on to specially

  fitted cradles.

  At his own suggestion Nahoot rode in the back of the truck, which would

  take just over thirty hours to cover the long and arduous journey to

  Addis Ababa. The Pegasus Falcon was standing on the airport tarmac when

  the dusty truck trundled out through the security gates and parked

  beside it.

  Von Schiller and Utte Kemper had made the journey in the company

  helicopter. General Obeid was with them. He had come to wish them all

  revoir and Godspeed.

  While the wooden crates were loaded into the jet, Obeid spoke to the

  waiting Customs officer. He stamped the documents clearing the two cases

  of "Geological Samples' for export, and then discreetly retired.

  "Loaded and ready to start engines, Herr von Schiller," said the

  uniformed Pegasus chief pilot, saluting.

  Von Schiller shook hands with Obeid and clambered up the boarding

  ladder. Utte an& Nahoot Guddabi followed him. The rings under Nahoot's

  eyes were even darker and deeper than usual. The journey had come close

  to exhausting him entirely, but he would not let the wooden cases out of

  his sight.

  The Falcon climbed up into a bright clear sky over the mountains and

  headed northwards. A few moments after the pilot extinguished the Seat

  Belt panel, Utte Kemper thrust her lovely blonde head through the

  cockpit door and asked the chief pilot, "Herr von Schiller would like to

  know our ETA."

  "I expect to touch down at Frankfurt at 2100 hours.

  Please inform Herr von Schiller that I have already radioed head office

  to give instructions for transport to be awaiting our arrival at the

  airport."

  The Falcon landed a few minutes ahead of schedule and taxied to the

  private hangar. The senior Customs and Immigration officials who were

  waiting for them were old acquaintances who were always on hand when the

  Falcon carried a special cargo. After they had completed the formalities

  they drank a schnapps with Gotthold von Schiller at the Falcon's tiny

  fitted bar, and discreetly pocketed the envelopes that lay on the bar

  counter beside each crystal glass.

  The drive up into the mountains took most of the rest of the night. Von

  Schiller's chauffeur followed the covered Pegasus truck along the icy

  winding mountain road, never letting it and its cargo out of sight. At

  five in the morning they drove through the stone gate of the Schloss,

  where the snow lay half a metre deep in the deer park. The castle

  itself, with its dark stone battlements and arrow-slit windows, looked

  like something from Bram Stoker's novel.

  However, even at this hour the butler and all his staff were on hand to

  welcome the master.

  Herr Reeper, the custodian of von Schiller's collection, and his most

  trusted assistants were also waiting, ready to move the two wooden cases

  down into the vault. Reverently they loaded them on to the forklift and

  rode down with them in the specially installed elevator.

  While they unpacked the crates, von Schiller returned to his suite in

  the north tower. He bathed and ate a light breakfast, prepared by the

  Chinese chef. When he had eaten, he went to his wife's bedroom. She was

  even frailer than she had been when last he had seen her. Her hair was

  now completely white, her face pinched and waxy. He sent the nurse away,

  and kissed his wife's forehead tenderly.

  The cancer was eating her away slowly, but she was the mother of his two

  sons, and in his own peculiar way he still loved her.

  He spent an hour with her, and then went to his own bedroom and slept

  for four hours. At his age he never needed more sleep than that, no

  matter how tired he might be. He worked until midafternoon with Utte and

  two other secretaries, and then the custodian called on the house

  intercom to tell him that they were ready for him in the vault.

  Von Schiller and Utte rode down together in the elevator, and when the

  door slid open both Herr Reeper and Nahoot were waiting for them. One

  look at their faces told von Schiller that they were beside themselves

  with excitement, bubbling over with news for him.

  "Are the -rays completed?" von Schiller demanded as they hurried after

  him down the subterranean passageway to the vault.

  "The technicians have completed their work," Reeper told him. "They have

  done a fine job. The plates are wonderful. Ja, wunderbar!'

  Von Schiller had endowed the clinic, so any request of his was treated

  as a royal command. The director had sent down his most modern portable

  -ray equipment and two technicians to photograph the mummy of Lord

  Harrab, and a senior radiologist to interpret the plates.

  Reeper inserted his plastic pass card into the lock of the steel vault

  door, and with a soft pneumatic hiss it slid open. They all stood aside

  for von Schiller to enter first.

  He paused in the doorway, and looked around the great vault. The

  pleasure never palled. On the contrary, it seemed to grow more intense

  every time he entered this place.

  The walls were enclosed in two metres of steel and concrete, and were

  guarded by every electronic device that genius could devise. But this

  was not apparent.when he viewed the softly lit and elegantly appointed

  main display room. It had been planned and decorated by one of Europe's

  foremost interior designers. The theme colour was blue. Each item of the

  collection was housed in its own case, and each of these was cunningly

  arranged to show it to its best advantage.

  Everywhere was the soft glimmer of gold and precious gems nestling on

  midnight-blue velvet cushions. Artfully concealed spotlights illuminated

  the lustre of lovingly polished alabaster and stone, the glow of ivory

  and obsidian. There were marvelous statues. The pantheon of the old gods

  were here assembled: Thoth and Anubis, Hapi and Seth, and the glorious

  trinity of Osiris and Isis and Horus, the son. They gazed out with those

  inscrutable eyes which had looked upon the procession of the ages.

  On its temporary plinth in the centre of the room, in pride of place,

  stood the latest addition to this extraordinary hoard, the tall,

  graceful stone testament of Taita. Von Schiller stopped beside it to

  caress the polished stone before he passed on into the second room.

  Here the coffin of Tanus, Lord Harrab, lay across a pair of trestles. A

  white-coated radiologist hovered over her back-lit display board on

  which the ,ray plates were clipped, Von Schiller went directly to the

  display and peered at the shadowy pictures upon it. Within the outline

  of the wooden coffin, the reclining human shape with hands crossed over

  its chest was very clear. It reminded him of a carved effigy atop the

  sarcophagus of an old knight in the precincts of a medieval cathedral.

>   "What can you tell me about this body?" he asked the radiologist without

  looking at her.

  "Male," she said crisply. "Late middle age. Over fifty and under

  sixty-five at death. Short stature." All the listeners winced and

  glanced at von Schiller. He seemed not to have noticed this solecism.

  "Five teeth missing. One front upper, one eye too and three molars.

  Wisdom teeth impacted. Extensive caries in most surviving teeth.

  Evidence of chronic bilharzia infection. Possible poliomyelitis in

  infancy, withering in left leg." She recited her findings for five

  minutes, and then ended, "Probable cause of death was a puncture wound

  in upper right thorax. Lance or arrow. Extrapolating from the entry

  angle, the head of the lance or arrow would have transfixed the right

  lung."

  "Anything else?" von Schiller asked when she fell silent. The

  radiologist hesitated, and then went on.

  "Herr von Schiller, you will recall that I have examined several mummies

  for you. In this instance, the incisions through which the viscera were

  removed appear to have been made with more skill and finesse than those

  of the other cadavers. The operator seems to have been a trained

  physician."

  "Thank you." Von Schiller turned from her to Nahoot.

  "Do you have any comments, at this stage?"

  "Only that these descriptions do not fit those given in the seventh

  scroll for Tanus, Lord Harrah, at the time of his death."

  "In what way?"

  "Tanus was a tall man. Much younger. See the portraits on the coffin

  lid."

  "Go on,'von Schiller invited.

  Nahoot stepped up to the display of -ray plates and pointed out several

  solid dark objects, all of them with clean outlines, that adorned the

  body.

  "Jewellery," he said. "Amulets. Bracelets. Pectorals.

  Several necklaces. Rings and earrings. But, most significant," Nahoot

  touched the dark circle around the dead brow, "the uraeus crown. The

  outline of the sacred serpent is quite unmistakable, beneath the

  bandages."

  "What does that indicate?" Von Schiller was puzzled.

  "This was not the body of a commoner, or even of a noble. The extent of

  ornamentation is too extensive. But most significant, the uraeus crown.

  The sacred cobra. That was only worn by royalty, I believe that what we

  have here is a royal mummy."

  "Impossible," snapped von Schiller. "Look at the inscription on the

  coffin. Those that were painted on the walls of the tomb. Clearly this

  is the mummy of an Egyptian general."

  "With respect, Herr von Schiller. There is a possible explanation. In

  the book written by the Englishman, River God, there is an interesting

  suggestion that the slave Taita swopped the two mummies, that of Pharaoh

  Mamose and his good friend, Tanus."

  "For what earthly reason would he do that?" Von Schiller looked

  incredulous.

  "Not for any earthly reason, but for a spiritual and supernat urat

  reason. Taita wished his -friend to have the use and ownership of all

  Pharaoh's treasure in the afterworld. It was his last gift to a friend."

  "Do you believe that?"

  "I do not disbelieve it. There is one other fact that tends to support

  this theory. It is quite obvious from the Xrays that the coffin is too

  large for the body within. TO me, it seems obvious that it was designed

  to accommodate a larger man. Yes, Herr von Schiller, I do believe that

  there is an excellent chance that this is a royal mummy."

  Von Schiller had gone ashen pale as he listened. Sweat headed upon his

  forehead, and his voice was hoarse and chesty as he asked, "A -royal

  mummy?"

  "It may very well be so."

  Slowly von Schiller moved closer to the sealed coffin on its trestle,

  until he was staring down at the portrait of the dead man upon its lid.

  "The golden uraeus of Mamose. The personal jewellery of a pharaoh." His

  hand was shaking as he laid it on the coffin lid. "If that is so, then

  this find exceeds our most extravagant hopes."

  Von Schiller drew a deep steadying breath. "Open the coffin. Unwrap the

  mummy of the Pharaoh Mamose."

  It was painstaking work. Nahoot had performed the same task many times

  before, yet never on the earthly remains of such an illustrious

  personage as an Egyptian pharaoh.

  Nahoot first had to establish where the joint of the lid lay beneath the

  paint. Once he had done this, he could whittle away at the ancient

  varnish and glues that secured the lid in place. Great care had to be

  taken to inflict as little damage as possible: the fragile coffin in

  itself was a priceless treasure. This work took the greater part of two

  days.

  When the lid was free and ready to be lifted, Nahoot sent a message to

  von Schiller, who was in an executive meeting with his sons and the

  other ' directors of his company in the library upstairs. Von Schiller

  had refused to go into the city for this meeting: he could not bear to

  be separated from his latest treasure. Immediately he heard from Nahoot

  he adjourned the meeting until the following Monday, and dismissed his

  directors and his offspring unceremoniously, Then, without waiting to

  see them into their waiting limousines, he hurried down to the vaults.

  Nahoot and Reeper had rigged a light scaffold over the coffin, from

  which hung two sets of block and tackle. As soon as von Schiller entered

  the vault, Reeper sent away his assistants. Only the three of them would

  be present to witness the opening of the coffin.

  Reeper brought him the carpet-covered block for him to stand on

  and'positioned it at the head of the coffin, so that von Schiller would

  be able to see inside as they worked. From this eminence the old man

  nodded to them to proceed. The ratchets of the two blocks clicked, one

  pawl at a time, as both Reeper and Nahoot gently put pressure on the

  tackle. There was a faint crackling and tearing sound, at which von

  Schiller winced.

  "It is only the last shreds of glue holding the lid," Nahoot reassured

  him.

  "Go on!" von Schiller ordered, and they lifted the lid er six inches

  until it hung suspended over the body anoth of the coffin. The

  scaffolding was on nylon castors which rolled smoothly over the tiled

  floor. They wheeled away the entire structure, with the coffin lid still

  suspended from it.

  Von Schiller peered into the open coffin. His expression changed to one

  of astonishment. He had expected to see the neatly swathed human form

  lying serenely in the traditional funereal pose. Instead, the interior

  of the coffin was stuffed untidily with loose linen bandages that

  entirely hid the body from view.

  "What on earth-' von Schiller exclaimed with astonishment. He reached

  out to take a handful of the old discoloured wrappings, but Nahoot

  stopped him.

  "No! Don't touch it," he cried out excitedly, and then immediately

  apologetic. "Forgive me, Herr von Schiller, was im but this is

  fascinating. It strongly supports the theory of an exchange of bodies. I

  think we should study it, before we proceed with the
unwrapping. With

  your permission of Herr von Schiller."

  course, Von Schiller hesitated. He was anxious to discover what lay

  beneath this rat's nest of old rags, but he realized the virtue of

  caution and prudence now. A hasty move might do irreparable damage. He

  straightened up and stepped down from his block.

  "Very well," he grunted. He pulled a handkerchief from the breast pocket

  of his dark blue doublebreasted suit jacket, and mopped the heavy sweat

  from his face. His voice was shaky as he asked, "Is it possible? Could

  this be Mamose himself?"

  Stuffing the handkerchief back into his trouser pocket, he discovered

  with mild surprise that he had a painful erection. With his hand in his

  pocket he rearranged it to lie flat against his stomach. "Remove the

  loose wrapp

  "With your permission, Herr von Schiller, we should take the photographs

  first," Reeper suggested tactfully.

  Of course," von Schiller agreed at once. "We are scientists,

  archaeologists, not common looters, Take the photographs."

  They worked slowly, and von Schiller found the delay tantalizing. There

  was no sense of the passage of time down here in the vault, but at one

  stage von Schiller, now in his shirtsleeves, glanced at his gold

  wrist-watch and was surprised to see' that it was past nine 'clock at

  night. He unknotted his necktie, threw it on the bench where his jacket

  already lay, and reapplied himself to the task.

  Gradually the shape of a human body emerged from under the compacted

  mass of ancient bindings, but it was after midnight when at last Nahoot

  teased away the last untidy clump of old cloth from the mummy's torso.

  They blinked at the glimpse of gold just visible through the neat layers

  of bandages laid upon the corpse by the meticulous and skilful hands of

  the embalmers.

  "Originally, of course, there would have been several massive outer

  coffins. These are missing, as are the masks.

  Those must still be in Pharaoh's original sarcophagus, covering the body

  of Tanus in the royal -tomb that still awaits discovery. What we have

  left here is only the inner dressing of the royal mummy."

  With long forceps he peeled away the top layer of bandage asVon

  Schiller, perched on his block, grunted and shuffled his feet.

  "The pectoral medallion of the royal house of Mamose," Nahoot whispered

  reverently. The great jewel blazed under the arc light. Resplendent in