by Mary Deal
“Umayma,” he said in that other voice.
She was seeing Pharaoh again. The shimmering energy continued to envelope them, permeating their bodies. “Oba,” she said, realizing her voice had also changed. This time they were not in the mashrabia room. They were in their hotel on a grand four-poster bed. They were Chione and Aaron and he was still reserved.
She kissed him again; remembering the intense desires Tauret had felt for Pharaoh. She wanted that same feeling with Aaron.
Then, in Pharaoh's voice, he said, “Your passion is great in spite of the child.”
The vision came again.
His body heavy on me, buttocks hard as diorite in my hands.
Chione lay back on the bed and pulled Aaron over her. He groaned as his resistance fled. She intended the seduction to complete the scenes taken from her so many times—scenes that left her insane with want. She needed to know Aaron the way Tauret knew Pharaoh.
Chione took Aaron's face in her hands and found his lips. He moaned and succumbed. She pushed her hands deep into his trousers and clutched at his buttocks.
Hard as diorite in my hands.
“Take me, my King,” she said in Tauret's voice. “Give me your true flail!”
“But the child in your womb,” Pharaoh said.
“Easy then,” she said in a lusty whisper. “But pleasure me!”
Aaron's breathing became labored. She sensed him struggling with the reservation of Aaron and the desperation of Pharaoh. The rush of shimmering energy came again. Finally he said, “Yes, Umayma, I cannot resist. I will have you!”
He tore at her clothing. Suddenly they were naked…
…in the mashrabia room, on the woven reed bed among soft tapestries.
“Chione,” Aaron said. His voice rasped.
“Aaron, take my breath,” she said, kissing him hungrily, eager for what was to come. “Pleasure me your body.”
And so he did, without hesitation and with the strength of Pharaoh, as incense filled the room and a bubble of energy glowed around them, shifting consciousness and sealing their fate.
Chione felt the sting like Tauret had felt, and the burning, as Aaron, not Pharaoh, ravaged her with abandon.
After their energy was spent, she lay still beside Aaron. He touched her face, her hair. Finally, she felt complete. She would let nothing take away all that they had gained. She looked into Aaron's eyes and knew that he felt the same and would stand by her.
During Ramadan, the suqs opened for a couple hours of business each day after dark. While visiting Chione's parents' host home, Aaron and Jibade returned late from shopping. Aaron announced he purchased a stack of red lattice mashrabia panels. Jibade would see them safely back to California.
Aaron had also brought a gift for her, the Egyptian harp in a storefront window she had lovingly admired. As Chione touched the harp, she felt the now familiar energy surround her. Her consciousness slipped and she began to play and sing. Other than having carried the harp found in Tauret's tomb, she had never touched one in her life.
They needed to begin their journey back to Thebes. They would tour some of the countryside along the way and soak up as much of the culture as possible. Chione wondered if the ancient couple had a way of learning about modern day Egypt through them.
49
Back at camp, settling in for another evening around the fire, Chione asked, “So where's Kendra?”
Marlowe spread a mat on the ground beside her husband. Dr. Withers wore his gallibaya and looked more Egyptian than ever. The fire's glow reached out into the night to comfort those around it. Siti, who smelled like an overdose of Queen Nefertiti perfume, poked the embers, threw on a few cut branches, and headed for the kitchen.
“She hasn't returned from California,” Dr. Withers said.
“Kendra went home?”
Dr. Withers first looked at his wife, then to the others. “She's filing for divorce.”
The news was not shocking. Other team members saw it coming. Chione felt regret for not being more supportive of Kendra.
“She's being a little impetuous, don't you think?” Clifford asked.
“Just after New Year's, she received a fax from Royce,” Marlowe said. “Didn't say where he was though.”
“And?” Aaron asked, leaning forward.
“He probably wouldn't be returning to California. Maybe only to sell his accountancy firm.”
“Was that all he said?” Chione asked.
“Not much more.”
Bebe and Kenneth walked up hand in hand, too involved to remember that the Egyptians did not approve of affections being displayed in public. Earlier, Marlowe said the drapes to their sleeping cubicle remained closed most of the time and people avoided going near. Seeking privacy meant only one thing. Chione had seen Bebe and Kenneth once when they sat alone on the retaining wall talking. Bebe talked, Kenneth listened. Then, all of a sudden, he turned away from Bebe as scarlet Karkade jettisoned from his mouth. He choked. He stood and paced and gestured with his hands. Bebe motioned for him to sit down. They talked some more, then Kenneth's hand found its way, again, to his wife's buttocks as he tried to kiss her. Surely at that moment, Bebe had disclosed to Kenneth the truth about the spell she drank in hopes of curing her menopausal malaise.
“Kendra knows exactly what she's doing,” Bebe said. “These past few weeks, she's been getting herself poised. Now she's going in for the kill.”
“I'm glad you were there for her, Bebe,” Chione said.
Marlowe patted the ground offering Bebe to sit beside her. Kenneth squeezed in. Surely, Bebe's spell had worked and she was now able to give her husband more personal attention.
“The San Francisco Sentinel reporters have returned,” Aaron said. “Guess they didn't want to miss much.”
Dr. Withers strained to see past the shacks. He raised an arm and was about to call for Ginny as she walked into view. To everyone's amazement, she wore a long Egyptian skirt and blouse with a sheesh covering her hair. Just as he opened his mouth to call out, one of the Sentinel photographers came along and gave Ginny's hand a quick squeeze before they headed for a walk down the road. “When in Egypt,” Dr. Withers said. “Fall in love.”
Chione and Aaron exchanged quick glances. Ginny floated away as her skirt billowed softly. Every team member had natural and intense curiosities. Of course they would be interested in a woman who dressed and worked like a man, but who seemed feminine and wore provocative perfume, and who just happened to be their very own adept photographer.
“I'd hate to think of how many pictures she's taken catching us unaware,” Clifford said. He reclined and stretched out his long legs toward the fire and laid back on his elbows. “Bebe, how's your manuscript coming along?”
“Make that plural. One for the dig overall; another a coffee table photo display of the major artifacts; maybe, smaller publications for each of the Chambers, since each contained a unique set of relics.” She counted on her fingers as if having thought it all out ahead of time. “Another to document our lives out here in the desert, including the Egyptians who've been a part of this.”
“Some of the workers allowed us to photograph them,” Kenneth said. “We could also document our photographic safaris, the two camel treks Bebe and I took. The possibilities are endless.”
“Oh, yes,” Dr. Withers said as he rocked backwards and looked toward the purple hills. Then he came forward again. “Excuse me while I bask in our glory. Lathrop, California may have a bigger dot on the map now, but the CIA has made its own mark.”
“Here, here,” Clifford said. They raised cups.
Siti came with a refill and left the pitcher.
“Where's Irwin,” Kenneth asked. He filled his cup, sipped, and savored the Karkade.
“Went home,” Dr. Withers said. “Didn't like the climate or being this remote.”
“He couldn't convert the Egyptians to using chopsticks,” Clifford said as he drew back the corners of his mouth.
Several m
usicians strolled up with their instruments and made themselves comfortable.
“Most of the gawkers cleared out because of Ramadan,” Dr. Withers said.
“There's nothing much to see till we crack that new tomb,” Clifford said. “Enjoy the calm while you can.”
Moments of quiet and slow movement would allow savoring of the experience and sentiment of the past few months. The transient beggars' camp dwindled to a dozen or so small tents. Catering to tourists and laborers provided lucrative employment for the tent dwellers. Setting up business in transient locations meant they made their livelihoods on the run.
“The Restoration crew has started work in Tauret's tomb,” Clifford said. “More workers equate to more tents down the hill real soon.”
“I've got a plan,” Dr. Withers said, grabbing their attention after some silence as they listened to the music. “Except for Kendra and Randy, we're all present. We need to act on this.”
Chione breathed a sigh of relief. She still had not come up with a way to break the news about herself and Aaron. Their story needed to be told because the pregnancy could not be kept secret for long. Her breasts had already begun to enlarge. Her stomach was fuller. Her menses had never been regular. Because of that, she guessed the night she drank her spell and soon experienced the complete love scene between Tauret and Tut, meant she was about three months pregnant.
“What's cookin'?” Bebe asked.
“You know the ruins the Norwegians found?” Dr. Withers asked. He stretched his legs out straight and cross his ankles.
“Terji and Finn found it together,” Chione said.
“Kenny found one of the walls,” Bebe said proudly. She looked stunning in her Egyptian clothes and dangling earrings, a gift from Kenneth from his visit to the tent camp.
“Well, here we are with two tombs on our hands,” Dr. Withers said. They waited as he absent-mindedly stroked his mustache, shifting gears. “We've got a lot of research to wrap up.” He gestured over his shoulder toward Tauret's tomb. “With the artifacts and all. Now we've got a second tomb.”
“You've been inside again?” Bebe asked.
“No, ma'am,” he said. “I had Quaashie and Naeem seal it tight before Paki Rashad left.”
“C'mon,” Kenneth said. “Tell us you didn't sneak back in.”
Dr. Withers looked quizzically at Kenneth. “I rather like us working as a team.” He did, however, make a thorough examination of all the mastabas above the area. “I'm hoping the rest of the chambers haven't been breached, via one of Randy's entrances.”
“We'll walk it again,” Aaron said.
“Yes, we will.”
“Wait,” Kenneth said suddenly. They had learned to be patience when he had something to say. “We need to find the real entrance to that tomb, like the hole our guy fell into with Tauret's tomb.”
“We'll test for weak spots in the ground,” Aaron said.
Kenneth chuckled. “Maybe the seismologists will get to earn their pay.”
“Kenneth, you sure you don't want to take a few courses at the Institute?” Dr. Withers asked. “You'd make a great archaeologist.”
That was a fine compliment. Kenneth looked utterly surprised at the acceptance shown him. “You mean all I've done won't be accepted until I have my degree?” Surely he imitated Randy in jest.
After another moment, Dr. Withers said, “Here's what I propose now, because of the massive amount of work we've got on our hands. Judging by the size of the main hall, that's a huge tomb under the mastabas. We've got less than four months before the Egyptian sun dictates we leave this arid land.”
“Do you think we can clear that tomb as quickly?” Bebe asked. “Considering the main chamber was plundered?”
“We worked at breakneck speed on Tauret's tomb,” Clifford said. “A handful of people have worked here during the summers. Why can't we?” If the team left and returned in cooler climate, Clifford would stay and oversee any work carried on in the team's absence. Even though the main hall stood empty, it was impossible to guess how many additional chambers and annexes would be found or how many artifacts.
“Then we can slow up a bit,” Bebe said. Chione was surprised to hear that Bebe would stay.
“You've had nearly all of Ramadan to recover,” Dr. Withers said, teasing.
“Don't forget,” Aaron said. “Unlike our predecessors, we have modern technology and procedures to speed up the work.”
“So we just might be able to get in and out of this second tomb before we get fried,” Kenneth said.
“Look, here's my point,” Dr. Withers said as he stuck his famous two fingers into the air. “Those Norwegians were sorely dismayed at making a grand discovery and not being able to claim it. I've already run this by our Board of Directors and they concur but leave the final decision to us.” He looked around the group, as was his habit, reading faces, anticipating each person's reaction. “I suggest we bring the Norwegians in on the village find. Let them claim the discovery inside our permitted area. They become partners in our village endeavor and receive the glory they deserve.”
“You mean let them do what they usually do?” Bebe asked. “Restore that village?”
“I'm certainly not totally giving up a find that will help the CIA's credibility. But those two guys stuck by us.”
“They're not afraid of work,” Aaron said.
“They deserve the credit,” Dr. Withers said. “Besides….” He made quick eye contact around the group, like he always did before releasing one of his ideas. “They can pump additional capital into their part of the obligation.”
The group sat quietly mulling over the suggestion. A gentle breeze began. The musicians took up the lapse in conversation.
“Let's hear your thoughts,” Dr. Withers said finally. No one spoke. “Okay, let's have a show of hands. All those in favor of bringing the Norwegians into the village project, raise.”
Five hands shot up. “That's all of us present,” Chione said. “How about Kendra and Randy? Or are we a quorum?”
“We can run it by them. More importantly,” Dr. Withers said, smiling his sideways smile, “maybe we ought to run it by the Norwegians.”
“Hey, you two,” Clifford said, turning to her and Aaron. “In Cairo, did you get a chance to peek in on Randy's new digs?”
“We did,” Chione said. “But first we visited Rita.” Chione tried not to imagine Clifford lying in the ground beside his wife.
Clifford smiled sweetly and pressed a hand to his chest.
“Tell us about Randy,” Marlowe said.
“Cushy, cushy research lab,” Aaron said. “He's not getting any sand in his boots.”
“Does he like his work?” Dr. Withers asked.
“Sir,” Chione said. “He's finally where he belongs. They need him. He's found a place where his training can be utilized.”
“We've seen that young man go through some drastic changes,” Bebe said.
“He's not the only one,” Marlowe said. Coming from her, that was a strong hint.
Nerves danced in Chione's stomach. Was now the time to shock them all? How would she begin? “I understand Quaashie and Naeem are permanently in charge in place of Dakarai and Masud,” she said, changing her mind.
“Personally,” Dr. Withers said, “We'll get a lot more work out of those two giddy souls.” Masud was always overworked pulling the weight of two because Dakarai was seldom present.
“Who arranged that for Quaashie and Naeem?” Clifford asked. “The same person who made arrangements for Randy?”
Dr. Withers sighed and looked smug. “Power's a wonderful tool in the right hands,” he said, affectedly feigning innocence as the background music swelled.
They laughed, talked jovially. Then again Marlowe insisted, “Chione, Aaron? Tell us about your adventures in Cairo.”
She mentally thanked Marlowe for the lead in. “It's a long story,” she said, smiling and looking into Aaron's eyes.
“Speak up,” Dr. Withers said. “Yo
u think out here in the middle of this stretch of sand, where no one can keep secrets, we're going to let you two have yours?”
Chione wondered how much they knew.
“We had a great trip,” Aaron said. “Spent a lot of time with Chione's parents and their host family.”
“Have any of you ever eaten dinner with a local family after the sun sets during Ramadan?” Chione asked.
“Many times,” Clifford said. “Everyone counts down to sunset, then the food flies.”
“Literally,” Chione said. “I had no idea. Meat bones, vegetables, whatever's in the main dish. A feast for twelve is consumed in about ten minutes. Food literally flies through the air as people dive in.”
“Humph!” Kenneth said.
“It's tradition,” Clifford said. “Different culture.”
“Humph,” Kenneth said again.
“Ought try it Kenneth,” Clifford said. “No different than the way you dive into a dish!” That brought a round of laughter.
On the way back, Chione and Aaron toured Khufu's humble digs, as Aaron jokingly called them, at the pyramids at Giza. They took a camel trek through the countryside for a firsthand view of the fellahin and their farms. “Really soaked up Egypt,” Chione said. Camels were introduced in Egypt within the last six hundred years. If Tauret and Pharaoh were experiencing modern-day Egypt through them, Chione wondered what they thought of riding the strange beasts.
“What are you two not telling,” Marlowe asked. “You, Chione, you come back from Cairo with Tauret's hair style and smelling of some strange perfume. Even that white Egyptian dress you wore your first day back resembled the clothes we found in the Offering Chamber.”
Marlowe had detected the scent! Chione was in a quandary as to how Marlowe might smell any fragrance without her having applied any, unless—
“What gives?” Kenneth asked.
Chione's face got hot. She hoped shadows stretched long by the setting sun might hide her blush.