As Napoleon tumbled into the Exit Beam, he was still worrying about Haprall.
‘Anxiety levels high, BB,’ said Skin. ‘It was common practice in ancient times for the living to be buried with the dead. Haprall believes he is going on a journey with a great warrior.’
‘But he’s not, is he?’ said Napoleon. ‘He’s going to die in that tomb. I should have done something. And now it’s too late.’
‘Lateness is a relative concept,’ said Skin.
‘What do you mean?’ Napoleon replied as he rocketed upwards. He was on his way into the future, to Professor Perdu and the Special Reading room.
‘‘‘Too late” implies the passing of time,’ said Skin, ‘but the Exit beam is not functioning fully. We are trapped in the Timeless Zone. We are not moving forwards, or backwards.’
Napoleon suddenly realised that he was floating above the city of Kadesh, trapped in a kind of time balloon.
It was a strange feeling. He could see the Hittites, but they couldn’t see him. He was invisible inside the Exit Beam.
‘What do we do?’
‘We do nothing,’ said Skin. ‘We wait. We will float down eventually. And that is when we can try to exit again. The professor is still attempting to fix the beam.’
From above the city Napoleon could see the funeral procession filing along the streets. When it came to the city gates it went through them and out into the countryside.
‘Aha!’ said Professor Perdu. ‘Now we know why Prince Terrepas’s tomb was never found. Archaeologists have been searching in the wrong place. It is not in the city at all. It is somewhere beyond the walls.’
The procession wound its way into the countryside, like a long slithering snake.
‘We are following them,’ said Napoleon.
‘Correct,’ said Skin. ‘We are leaving the Timeless Zone. And we are descending.’
When the procession was several kilometres from the city, they came to a stone building that looked like a small pyramid.
King Muwatalli held up his hand and everyone stopped.
‘This structure is called a ziggurat,’ said Skin. ‘The Hittites built many of these.’
Napoleon was close enough now to clearly see the stepped walls of the ziggurat. Soon he was directly above the tomb. A moment later he was on the ground. The Exit Beam glowed a deep yellow for a few seconds and then faded.
‘OK, BB005,’ said the professor. ‘Your bodily form has been restored. You are back in the Hittite world and fully visible. Have you recorded the coordinates for the tomb?’
Napoleon checked his Battle Watch. ‘Roger that.’
‘Good. And I’ve worked out what’s wrong with the Exit Beam, so we should have you away from there soon.’
‘No hurry, Prof,’ said Napoleon, sneaking around the side of the ziggurat. ‘There’s still one thing I want to do.’
‘No, BB005!’ Professor Perdu shouted.
‘Both mission objectives have been accomplished. It is time to leave. The Exit Beam is almost ready.’
‘Well keep it on the boil,’ Napoleon said as he quickly slipped into the crowd that had formed in front of the ziggurat. He was soon at the entrance to the tomb.
He saw Haprall and called out. But the Hittite boy didn’t hear him. Napoleon blended into the mourners and kept walking.
It was dark inside the tomb. Flickering oil lamps cast dancing shadows on the walls and the air was thick with incense. The High Priest wailed and moaned while his helpers chanted a funeral song as the procession moved through the narrow tunnels towards the prince’s final resting place.
When Napoleon arrived at the main chamber, he stopped and stared.
The chamber was a big cavern, but it was already filled with riches.
They were heaped around the prince’s burial casket – piles of gold, silver and precious gemstones.
They sparkled like the sea in the early morning.
Then Napoleon saw Haprall being led to a stone bench that was raised above the crowd.
Temple helpers lifted him up and sat him on the bench. The High Priest poured a dark liquid from a golden jug into a silver goblet.
‘That is a special sleeping drink,’ said Skin. ‘The boy will not wake up from it.’
‘You mean it’s poison?’ gasped Napoleon.
‘Affirmative,’ said Skin. ‘It slows down the nervous system.’
The High Priest handed the goblet to Haprall. He took it, and raised it to his lips.
‘Stop!’ Napoleon shouted. ‘Don’t drink. It’s poison.’
Haprall lifted his eyes in surprise, and the mourners turned.
‘Seize the boy,’ commanded the High Priest. ‘How dare he interrupt the funeral procession.’
Napoleon tried to scramble up to Haprall, but he was dragged down. The priest pointed a bony finger at him.
‘Be patient, boy,’ he said. ‘Your turn to sip the elixir of sleep will come soon enough.’
He turned back to Haprall. ‘Drink, and prepare for your journey.’
Napoleon tried to call out, but a rough hand across his mouth stifled his words. He watched helplessly as Haprall raised the goblet to his lips once more.
‘STOP!’
A voice of authority echoed through the chamber. It was King Muwatalli.
‘Put the goblet down,’ he told Haprall.
‘But Great One,’ the High Priest said.
The king silenced him.
‘Is this not the Battle Boy I heard spoken of in the city streets? The boy who brought us luck? I want to hear what he has to say,’ Muwatalli boomed, turning his gaze on Napoleon. ‘Release him.’
Napoleon was freed at once.
‘What is this you say about the elixir of sleep?’
‘It is poison, my king,’ said Napoleon.
‘He knows nothing of these matters, Great One,’ the priest muttered. ‘The elixir is given by the gods to bring on the sleep needed for the journey to the Land of Darkness.’
‘The sleep you talk of is nothing but death,’ said Napoleon. ‘And that drink is just a poison that kills.’
‘How dare you!’ the High Priest shouted, striking at Napoleon with his sceptre. ‘It is a great honour to go with the prince to the place of eternal sleep.’
‘Well, if it’s such a great honour,’ Napoleon replied, ‘why don’t you go with him?’
The priest was silent.
‘Well?’ said King Muwatalli. ‘What have you to say, Wise One?’
The priest stood with his mouth wide open.
Muwatalli helped Haprall down from the stone bench and took the goblet away.
‘You are free,’ the king said. ‘Both of you. Thanks to you, Battle Boy, we won a great victory today.’
‘But the prince must be accompanied on his journey,’ the High Priest insisted.
‘And he will be.’ Muwatalli stared down at the goblet, then at the priest. ‘And I think I know who should have that great honour.’
‘I like your king,’ Napoleon said to Haprall as they walked away from the tomb of Prince Terrepas.
‘But isn’t he your king as well?’ said Haprall.
‘No. I come from somewhere else, far away.’
‘I thought so. Are you a messenger from the gods?’
‘Kind of.’ Napoleon could hear the professor telling him that the Exit Beam was ready. ‘And soon I have to go again, this time forever.’
‘You came to bring us luck in our battle with the pharaoh’
‘Well, sort of. And I brought you luck in the tomb.’
Haprall wrinkled his brow. ‘Perhaps.’
‘I thought I saved your life,’ said Napoleon.
‘You did. And for that I thank you. But . . .’
‘But what?’
‘I would have stayed there, gladly. I would have drunk the elixir to accompany the prince forever.’
‘But why?’ said Napoleon.
‘To protect my prince and his tomb. Robbers will come one day and steal it all.
I hate that thought. Prince Terrepas was a great Hittite warrior, and he should be left to rest in peace. If I stayed I would have helped make sure of that. But now . . . ’
Napoleon thought about all the treasures in the tomb. They would buy a ton of iPods and Playstations, heaps of games and books and buckets of burgers and chips and loads of lollies, plus squillions of skateboards and scooters, skycatchers and …
But then he looked at Haprall’s sad face. ‘Don’t worry,’ Napoleon said after a while. ‘Your prince is safe in his tomb. Robbers will never find it. The gods have told me.’
Napoleon glanced down at his Battle Watch and fiddled with its dials. That should fix things, he said to himself as a DELETE sign flashed across the screen.
‘It makes me so happy to hear you say this,’ Haprall said. ‘You are a true friend. But I think we must part now.’ Haprall pointed to a shaft of light near the city wall. ‘The gods are calling for you.’
‘You’re right,’ said Napoleon. He shook Haprall’s hand in Hittite style, clasping each others forearm, then turned and walked towards the Exit Beam.
When he reached the beam, Professor Perdu’s voice came through loud and clear.
‘Just checking, BB005. You do have the coordinates for the tomb, don’t you?’
A note from the author
Chariot Charge Page 3