by Mary Deal
“What is it?” Aaron asked quietly over her shoulder.
“This goes against all tradition,” she said, whispering.
“More magic?”
“Magic would be traditional. These glyphs describe a room meant to hold babies and children dying the same day as the person in the Burial Chamber.”
“Wha-at?”
She followed several rows of glyphs with her fingertips but did not touch. “A spell was cast and any child buried here would share in the afterlife of the main occupant.”
“Did I hear you right?” Dr. Withers asked from behind.
“Yes, sir,” she said. “Evidently this chamber was built to hold as many of the young as would fit. In sharing the Afterlife of the tomb's main occupant, their families would be elevated in social stature.”
“That implies the mummy we've yet to find held a high position in life,” Aaron said.
“Could also mean she loved children,” Chione said.
“Oh!” Bebe said, pointing. “Look in that corner,”
All at once, everyone noticed the statue of Bes, god of the family.
“My, my, my,” Dr. Withers said, carefully picking his way over to hover close, head cocked, inspecting through bifocals.
The wooden three-foot figure, painted with grotesque features and a protruding tongue, carried a sword to repel danger. The other hand held a tambourine. A foot of the figure danced on a base of painted lotus blossoms.
“Part lion, part dwarf,” Bebe said. “God of the welfare of newborn children and families.”
Another quick look around the room showed walls with scenes of many, many children and babies. Two of the few adult women were depicted as pregnant.
“If I had to judge it on these two chambers,” Clifford said. “I'd say the life of the main occupant focused around children and childbirth.”
Cribs and children's beds poked out from under the pile of rubble, broken under weight of the intrusion. Small beds supporting additional piles of mummies lay against the far wall. Toys were strewn everywhere, even sandwiched in bed with the mummies and intermixed in the heaps. Painted dolls with hair made of clay beads, balls and rattles, mice and cats, even tiny horses on wheels, skillfully carved from wood and symbolically painted.
“Oh, look,” Bebe said in a voice that foretold something special. They bent down in a circle. “A top. Over there's another.”
“Made of powdered quartz. Look,” Clifford said, pointing. “Traces of papyrus twine.”
Though the first impulse was to pick up something and feel it, each knew the dangers inherent to the object in doing so.
As Chione studied one of the tops, a vision seemed to pour itself into her head.
A sunlit day, a young Egyptian woman with much younger children spinning tops on the marble floors, fortunate children, whom the woman had birthed.
Chione grabbed Aaron's sleeve to steady her as the stunning vision faded.
“Wonder why the robbers didn't take all this loot,” Kendra said.
“It's not gold,” Chione said.
If grave robbers had gotten into this chamber, perhaps they found a way into the others. Everyone seemed momentarily deflated at the realization they could be facing another tomb long ago plundered of most of its artifacts.
A mechanical drone sounded overhead. Sparse light beamed down from above as a thin skin of sand entered at the ceiling and poured down over the rubble like a wave. The area overhead was being vacuumed out, exposing the length of the crack in the rock.
“Shoo! Everybody out,” Dr. Withers said, waving his arms. “It's not safe in here right now.”
10
The team and camera crews proceeded to the next level of the passageway, down a long flight of perhaps some twenty steps. The camera crews scrambled, at times seeming dramatic as they first filmed the floors with a layer of undisturbed dust. After the floor was walked on, they filmed the footprints. With photographers capturing every aspect of the dig, the world would share the team's first impressions.
Everyone marveled at the glory of the walls and ceilings and stopped to examine both sides of the passageway. Scenes depicted children at play, children in the fields, children being taught. She and Bebe would have a huge job of documenting the glorious reliefs.
Whenever possible, Chione avoided facing the cameras. Emotions were illogical in the archaeological profession. How might she hide the alternating tides of elation and disappointment that welled up unexpectedly, brought on by the increasing numbers of dreams and visions? Emotion might be interpreted as exaggerated, especially now that jealous competitors waited for a chance to further denigrate them being in Egypt. Too, if Aaron had heard the sounds when she did, and smelled the perfume, had the cameras caught him wearing some questionable expression?
Just as they aimed their lights deeper into the passageway and proceeded on, Chione saw the tip of something familiar on the wall farther down. They came upon a supporting rail, a balustrade. Its supporting balusters were etched with hieroglyphs. Another half dozen descending steps appeared. The lower they dropped the hotter and heavier the air hung.
A clank and clatter followed them as camera technicians manipulated awkward lighting equipment and wiring while trying to keep up. Chione flashed her light as the full scene came into view. “Look,” she said.
All flashlights were directed to the wall. A technician turned on flood lamps. In view was another gigantic painted relief, ceiling to floor, of a woman sitting inside a black pyramid. God Aten's hands reached down. The woman's countenance was one of serenity, composure, and bearing.
After the oohs and ahs, Clifford asked, “How did you get painted up there, Chione?”
“Good grief,” Kendra said. “She looks like she could climb down and become one of us.”
Chione felt another bone deep chill.
“Look opposite,” Bebe said.
More oohs and ahs filled the passageway as lighting was focused on yet another mural showing the same woman bedecked and leading other priestesses in a ceremony.
Chione heard the inviting chant, felt compelled to join in, and heard words come out of her mouth, foreign yet native. The scene on the wall opened out and took her in. The sweet music from a lyre and harp came from somewhere in the corner of a dimly lit room. She danced slowly, sensually at first until her body came alive. Soon the ritual dance made her blood rush. She became drunk on the perfume of sweet incense. Desire coursed through her veins. She danced for someone in waiting. She was being made ready. For what? Then the scene let her go. Chione staggered then caught her balance. Of course, no one else in the passageway perceived the spectacle. Aaron turned away hiding his face, but she had already seen his expression. It was clearly one of sexual hunger.
At the end of the passageway, they came face to face with two massive doors. The wood had dried, separated in places at the grain. Both doors were deeply carved and richly painted. An Eye of Horus stared, mute, from above. A golden Aten sun disk illuminated and hieroglyphs filled every vacant space. Securing the doors, a wooden cross member lay between handles, wrapped around and around with heavy woven papyrus twine. A large dollop of mud pressed into the twine knot was stamped simply with an ankh.
“An unbroken seal,” Dr. Withers said, giddy as he danced around with clenched fists.
They cheered, having found another hopefully unbreached chamber, and took turns inspecting the glyph pressed in.
“Why would the symbol of life be used in this manner?” Kendra asked.
“An awful lot about this tomb breaks with tradition,” Clifford said.
“Did you see this entry in your dreams, Chione?” Dr. Withers asked.
“Sorry to disappoint anyone,” she said. “I didn't see these particular doors. All I can say is I saw quite a few entryways.”
“Many doors?” Kendra asked. “Inside maybe?”
“Possibly. And a huge main hall.”
“Do you know what that means?” Kendra asked joyfully. “What
lies beyond these doors could be quite expansive, elaborate.”
“Then let's get cracking,” Dr. Withers said, gleefully rubbing his hands together. They stepped back momentarily for filming.
Use of the dollop was to prevent loose ends of the twined rope from unraveling. The sure way to save the impression would be to cut the opposite looped ends of twine. Destroying a relic was something all archaeologists dreaded. They chose to preserve the precious ankh seal and leave the cut twine ends dangling from it and would bind them so they would not unravel. With deft fingers and small hand tools, Masud clipped the strands; carefully unwound them from the cross bar, and began to tease the dollop away from the handle.
“I remember part of a dream,” Chione said.
“And?” Dr. Withers asked, preoccupied with Masud's skill.
“Something about a portal that we overlook.” She cocked her head trying to remember the illusive scene.
No one said a word, perhaps because they dared not breathe. All were tense with excitement and packed close before the massive panels. Someone bumped Rashad's cameraman, who nearly lost his grip on the camera. Only a few tiny chips of the clay fragmented around the edges as the dollop popped free.
Though the wooden doors had dried out and contained cracks, the seams remained tight on all sides and required much coaxing. Once loosened, they stepped back as the massive panels creaked and slowly opened, laying bare a hermetically sealed universe. Again, thick, old air, gaseous and hot, oozed out. Everyone retreated, sniffing for fresher air.
“The smell's not as bad as the mummy chamber,” Kendra said finally.
“Wait,” Clifford said, sniffing conspicuously and moving toward the doorway again. “Scents of wood… and food?”
“Perfumes,” Kendra said, also sniffing. “And oils.”
Again cloths were thrown down before Dr. Withers, Rashad, and the camera crews entered. The others remained at the doorway straining to see into the massive Pillared Hall as lights were cast about. This was the best yet, more beautiful than anyone had imagined. Kendra choked back overwhelming excitement. Bebe could only say, “Oh my! Oh my!”
Electricians set up stationary lighting inside the doorway, then more inside the Hall. The team waited as the videographers made their cursory sweep.
“Are you to blame for all this, Chione?” Dr. Withers asked, teary eyed as he rejoined the group.
“No, Dr. Withers,” she said. “My dreams only served to spark your interest. The choice to follow through was yours.”
Tall Clifford bent down and hugged Chione. “The world owes you,” he said. “Mmmm… How is it you smell like the perfume that's oozing out of that room?”
“Egypt owes you,” Paki Rashad said, nodding his appreciation.
The filming crew caught their reactions. Finally, they entered and silence overtook the group. The chamber was immense. Six square pillars stood in two rows in the middle of the room, reaching up to the inclined ceiling.
“This chamber must be over three hundred fifty feet into the ground,” Dr. Withers said.
“No sign of the Burial Chamber doorway,” Clifford said as he strained to see into each dark corner.
“Look up,” Bebe said. Lighting was redirected. “Another pyramid makes the ceiling.”
Clifford strained. “Sculpted in like the others.”
The ceiling was indeed pyramid shaped, but with a lower gentler slope over the pillars. Unfortunately, patches of the Egyptian blue covered with gold stars had fallen to the floor and shattered.
Chione, standing directly under the center of the ceiling, had a sudden startling vision of four columns. The vision flicked into her mind, then disappeared in less than a second. “Not six columns,” she said.
“What's that you say?” Kendra asked.
Chione caught herself. “Just thinking out loud.”
The wall to the south offered two sets of double doors and another set on the west wall at the rear. All the doors were wooden and separating at the grain.
Chione's mind reeled. In yet another elusive vision, she caught a glimpse of a different chamber. It did not look anything like the Hall where they presently stood. She came back into the moment. Unlike in the vision, the wall murals and pillars in this hall were flaking. The floor under her feet was solid rock etched with shallow grooves forming large squares and resembled a gigantic white limestone checkerboard covered with dust. The floor in her vision had been smooth but unfinished.
She concentrated upon familiarizing herself with where she stood. The gleam of pure gold glinted off everything. Shoulder high columns displayed busts of ancients that would need to be identified. The Pillared Hall was uncluttered, with furniture strategically placed. Children's chairs were included. The furniture was exquisite. Painted hues were fresh and vibrant in the magnificent artwork. The Pillared Hall, with its riches, reflected a glimpse of the opulence of Ancient Egypt.
Eager to inspect everything, their voices all speaking at once rose in swells to an excited pitch, then calmed till someone found yet another relief, another relic, and became excited again.
“Is this the grand chamber you dreamed about?” Clifford asked. He stood beside one of the massive pillars looking ganglier than ever.
The vision of a large empty chamber with four pillars flickered through her mind again. “No, but it'll do,” she said. Colorful visions, glimpses of different chambers, transited her mind like intrusive random thoughts.
“Look, but don't touch,” Dr. Withers said. He kept his hands clasped behind his back.
Silence filled the room as they spread out in all directions.
Aaron spoke first. “Solid gold foil,” he said in quiet understatement. Chione went to his side as he pointed. “That desk and chair by the second pillar. Covered with it.”
They also noticed a long couch and chair against the north wall, carved from wood with woven seats and decorated with richly painted scenes. Various parts of the furniture were overlaid with sheets of gold foil. Nearby, gilded statues of various Gods stood mute watch.
“Would you look at this?” Clifford asked suddenly, leaning forward at the hip to examine the wall behind the couch. “Here's that same woman. And isn't this Tut?”
Another chill transited Chione's nervous system and it was not because of any cold air in that oven of a room.
“Tut?” Bebe asked. She hurried to Clifford's side and studied the wall. “Oh, my. It certainly resembles his likeness.”
“What's Tut doing in here?”
“Good question.”
“He looks like you, Aaron!” Chione said, laughing.
Aaron seemed embarrassed. Randy accused him of resembling the Boy King. Now she had innocently said it too. Why was Aaron's face reddening over simple off-hand joking?
In jest, Aaron struck a pose similar to that of the young man captured in time on the mural. Everyone had a good chuckle.
“You do look like him,” Dr. Withers said. “But if that's Tut, who is this woman?”
“Considering these inner chambers call our attention to the tomb's occupant,” Bebe said, gesturing to the woman's many images on the walls. “My guess is that we're seeing the likeness of the person buried here.”
The filming crews were just as enthused. “Look at this,” Ginny's technician said while shining a flashlight beam onto a bust painted black and perched on a pillar. His enthusiasm bubbled over and he evidently could not wait for anyone else to speak. “I photographed her mummy years ago.”
“When? Where?” Dr. Withers asked. “Who is she?”
“This is Queen Tyi.”
Crowding close to see, they concurred. Chione felt compelled to reach out, but Aaron quickly jerked her hand away. “Uh-uh!” he said. “No touching the relatives.” It was strange how he consistently happened to stop her from doing something she might regret.
“Just like Tyi's other heads they found,” Clifford said. “Carved from the wood of a yew tree.”
“Why would she be in here?�
�� Dr. Withers asked as he bent close to study over bifocals. “They've already found her mummy.”
“And her tomb,” Clifford said.
“Well, this is not a Queen's tomb anyway,” Dr. Withers said. “Unless they broke from tradition.”
“Oh, and don't forget to say hello to Amenhotep III,” the technician said of the bust on a neighboring pillar. “Tyi's husband and Pharaoh.”
“Would you look at that,” Dr. Withers said as he edged closer. He turned to the technician. “I wouldn't want the Exploration Mag people getting wind of your expertise. We need to keep your keen eye on our team.”
“Stranger still,” Bebe said. “Tyi's statue at the Colossi of Memnon was the one emitting strange sounds. Not only does this tomb sing but we find Queen Tyi in here.”
“Don't say it's magic,” Dr. Withers said, but with a curious smile as he eyed Kendra. “My level of belief can't be stretched that far.”
“The connection's to be found elsewhere,” Clifford said.
The remaining busts were of children and unidentified adults.
As if in sequence, each person was drawn to a special artifact. “Get a look at this chair,” Chione said, breaking the silence.
Carved and colorfully painted on the backrest of one chair were replicas of two decorated chairs and a standing man and woman.
“Hey, it's me again,” Aaron said jokingly.
“What are you doing on all this furniture, Aaron?” Dr. Withers asked.
“Wait,” Bebe said. “This is King Tut. And look, he's offering a seat to a non-royal woman.”
“She's depicted nearly as tall as Tut,” Clifford said. “Which signifies she was high in social stature.”
“This has got to be her tomb,” Kendra said. “But why would Tut be offering her a seat beside himself?”
“That's right,” Chione said. “She's not Tut's Queen.”
“This tomb was definitely not meant for Ankhesenpa,” Clifford said. “And Tyi's tomb's over in Valley of the Kings.”
“Good, good, good!” Dr. Withers said in his inimitable fashion. “So now we're looking at the resident of this not so humble abode of the afterlife.”