The Tomb of Zeus (27 page)

“Aristidis gone off without you, then? Not like him! Why on earth didn't he wait for you? Would you like me to say something?”

“No, no! It could be because I told him to go ahead. I was waiting for you. But then I decided I liked my own company better and drifted over here. Thought I'd do a little moon-worship. Commune with the goddess Selene. I don't get much of a chance to be by myself these days, you know. There's always someone dancing attendance…watching…testing…being critical…it can get very annoying.”

“Yes, chaperonage does cramp your style. I had noticed. Sorry to intrude! I'll leave you to your thoughts.” He was getting to his feet.

“It's a perfect evening, isn't it?” She caught and held him with a question. “So romantic! I stage-managed it well, don't you think? I calmed the sea to a murmur, I conjured up a full moon, I switched on the nightingale. And here I loiter, misty-eyed, lonely heroine, heart full of longing. And only one thing lacking…”

“I do know that,” he answered, with a touch of gentleness. “I'm sorry, Letty—I'm not a total insensitive—I do realise how much you must miss him.”

“Miss him? Miss who?” Letty looked at him in puzzlement as he abandoned his pretence of leaving and settled down by her side again. And then, uncertainly: “Oh! Daniel? My godfather, Daniel, you mean? Well…just occasionally, I suppose. But, William—it's been a year. I was fond of the old feller, as you know, but not so devoted I'd still be standing on a mountainside sorrowing.”

“Must you always wilfully misunderstand! It can be very tedious! He's not far off—over there to the north. Across the Cretan Sea. You were looking and sighing in just the right direction just now…Why don't you telegraph? He could be at your side in two days.”

Letty turned a horrified face to him, trying to read his expression. His eyes drained of their bright colour in the twilight, reflected the austere gleam of the moon. They chilled her.

“William, what on earth are you saying?”

“That the chap you're teetering on the edge of a cliff, yearning for, is in Athens and just awaiting your summons. Probably had his bag packed for weeks. Your lover! Andrew bloody Merriman!”

Letty was silent for a very long time.

“How do you know?” she finally asked him quietly.

B
ecause your dashing friend Merriman told me himself. And he is not a man to be doubted. When the youngest professor of archaeology at a British university, a man fêted—notorious even—for his gallantry, good looks, and charming character, informs me that he has for some years enjoyed an intimate relationship with the girl I was being employed to keep on the straight and narrow…well…I'm astonished, but I believe him. Andrew was rather drunk at the time he made the confidence, but it's not the sort of thing you invent, even in your cups.”

He was trying to speak lightly but he could not disguise his hurt and anger. “I'd just spent the summer squiring the young lady around France in accordance with her father's wishes, doing my best to keep her from harm and temptation. ‘To be returned virtue and fortune intact’—that was my brief from your doting father, who also, I noted, was thoroughly deceived.”

“And nearly getting yourself killed in the process, let's not forget,” she said. “Well, since you seem to be making up a charge sheet—”

“And the notion came to me that I'd been wasting my time. Chasing after a wild goose? Barring the door of the stable from which the horse had already bolted? There must be a phrase to sum up my laughable gullibility. There's certainly a word: dupe.”

“And these revelations were made during your impromptu party at Fitzroy Gardens, last year, when we got back from Burgundy?” she said in a neutral voice. “Accompanied by a matey dig in the ribs and a knowing chortle, no doubt. I don't wonder you disappeared in the night. But this is not right. It isn't like Andrew to betray a confidence to a man who was virtually a stranger. I don't understand.”

“It was probably something I said. We sat on together for a while after dinner. We got on well, as a matter of fact. Rather a surprising man, Andrew. Younger than me, twice as presentable, at ease with himself and the world. I liked him. He drew me out and I think I talked about you quite a lot over the brandy. Too much? Perhaps I gave a false impression of…of…our association. I think he over-interpreted the situation and, succumbing to male jealousy, warned me off, speaking of a long-standing affair. All delicately expressed, of course, but—man to man—I'd received a shot across my bows which I couldn't ignore.”

He hesitated for a moment and decided to add: “I can't be unfair to the man—I'm certain that, had I been young, rich, and well-connected, he would have given me his blessing and kept his mouth shut. But, disreputable unknown that I was, he was doing no more than his duty in protecting you from me. He invited me to spend some time with him to check me out, I do believe. Just in case you were truly in danger.”

There was no warmth in his slow smile. “Not sure what would have been my fate had he decided I really was a menace, but it would have been uncomfortable. He's a formidable man. But he was taking no chances, and shipped me off to Crete in short order. I was actually grateful to him for the opportunity. And remain so— let me make that clear. Merriman's deeply fond of you, Letty. More than you realise or deserve. And, of course, I had at last an understanding of why you'd insisted on hurrying back to London. Bad of you not to tell me he was to be there.”

“I didn't know he and father had arrived. And
we
weren't expected back for several weeks, if you remember.” There was little she could salvage from the situation, but she could at least insist on accuracy.

After a long silence, Gunning ventured: “Are you going to tell me that Andrew was merely expressing a brandy-fuelled fantasy? That you haven't been indulging in a clandestine affair of an amorous nature for years?”

“Oh, good lord, William! Sleeping with him, you mean? It's none of your business, but—yes, we have been lovers on and off for a long time now.” She had nothing more to hide, nothing more to lose. The truth came as a relief. And, following on the relief, a surge of recklessness. He had no right to question or criticise her. He wasn't her confessor, not even her friend.

“I had thought better of you, William. But I see you are ready, like most other men I've met, to judge a woman by her past experience, though the same standards are never applied to your own sex, it seems. None of your fault, Son of the Rectory that you are…” Even in her grim mood, she noticed his shudder at her reference to his past. “And I have to allow that you stepped out of the world ten years ago—again, certainly not your fault. You are to blame for many things, I think, William, but the Great War is not one of them, and you may not yet be aware that the world has gone on spinning. People are no longer what they were. I can only speak for girls of my own background, of course, and yes, I know you despise me for my advantages, but I can tell you—I acknowledge them, I celebrate them, I intend always to make fullest use of them. My friends and I read, we talk, we fight to get ourselves educated, and we claim for ourselves some of the freedoms men have until now kept for themselves. Perhaps you'll allow me to put a suitable reading list in your hand? Marie Stopes, perhaps? Yes, you should start there.”

“Ah!
Married Love?
Or has the lady then written a sequel to her first work?” he asked, bitterly. “Un
married Love?
”

“It started, predictably, in a room over the Café Royal,” she went on, lightening her tone, intending to shock. The gloves were off and she wanted nothing more than to give him a bloody nose. “As these things do. Not very original but an exciting experiment for me. He's an attractive, experienced, amusing, and thoroughly nice man. If he'd been free, I'd have married him. I love him. Many women do. My father never caught on, as far as I know. Fathers are always, I suppose, the last to suspect what their daughters are getting up to. You don't ask but I'll tell you—we were together for purposes of mutual carnal enjoyment—as you would no doubt put it before rinsing your mouth with carbolic—for the last time three weeks before I ran into you in Cambridge.”

Letty started to get to her feet. “Now, unless you're intending to bend my ear with a reciprocal confession of sin, to which I would listen with some sympathy—we sinners must stick together—I'll be off. This stone we're sitting on is suddenly quite chilly.”

He made no attempt to rise with her but sat on, glumly looking out to sea. She stood, silent, trying to calm her anger and her heartsickness, deep in thought. A chill wind suddenly swept up from the precipice, waking wreaths of mist from the land, and she shivered. On an impulse she turned around, bent, and kissed his lips. Her first kiss and her last, judging by his cold response. She took him by the arm and hauled him to his feet. “Come on, Mr. Misery! We've only got one flashlight and we've a mile to walk in each other's company. It's too dark to play ‘I Spy’ so you're just going to have to keep up polite conversation all the way down.”

She passed him the torch and tucked an arm companionably through his. “Now—have you heard the latest gossip to come out of the British School at Rome?” Her tone was intimate and involving. Frivolous flapper-talk. Calculated to annoy. “No? Then prepare yourself for a sensation! Lalage Boyd-Brewster, one of the lady directors—you've heard of her? Fading beauty…did a lot of good work in Mesopotamia?…that Lalage?—has set tongues wagging the breadth of Europe! She's just taken a new lover. And not a female this time…No, no—this latest one is a young Italian man, thirty years her junior!…What do you think of that!…But you take such an interest in prurient gossip, William, I was sure you'd be fascinated…”

On the point of leaving the headland, she dropped his arm and turned away from him. She stood for a moment, offering wet cheeks to the sky and casting an aggrieved glance at the impassive moon.

T
here's a rider on the road!”

Demetrios's sharp eyes were for a moment distracted from the dig they were about to embark on.

“Twenty minutes away. Big black horse. Who's this?”

Aristidis shaded his eyes and stared. “It's the boss. It's Russell,” he said.

“Coming at quite a lick. Make that ten minutes if he puts the poor beast to the slope,” said Gunning.

“Theodore? Oh, no! But why would he be coming?” Letty could not suppress her irritation. “He was sent a message yesterday. What did you say, William?”

“Just what you told me to say. Aristidis's eldest took it down late yesterday afternoon when it became clear we weren't going to finish. I said we were staying on to work through Saturday, returning on Sunday, and staying over at the Europa for the funeral on Monday. I didn't go further and extend an invitation. Wouldn't have thought he'd have the time with so much on his plate at the moment.”

“Not more bad news? He surely can't be bringing more bad news,” said Letty anxiously. “Didn't you tell me George was doing well?”

“He's curious. And you can hardly blame him for being intrigued,” said Aristidis. “Let's not forget that the man is first and foremost an archaeologist. The report you sent would have fetched him back from the brink of hell—or heaven. I think, out of courtesy,” he said, looking around at the diggers, “we should hold off for a few minutes. Let him enjoy the moment—or share in the disappointment—shall we?”

Letty scowled. Gunning shrugged. The men grounded their spades and each lit another cigarette.

Theodore came on site, leading his sweating horse, and handed the reins to one of the crew. “Miss Talbot! Laetitia! Top of the morning to you! And William, there you are! Greetings!…Aristidis…” He nodded briefly. “Wonderful! How good it is to be here for what may well be the find of the decade. Thank you for letting me know, William.”

“If you're in a thanking mood, Theo,” drawled Gunning, “you should direct your thanks to Aristidis. We all should. For letting us dig up his land.”

“Of course, of course,” said Theodore. “Care to show me around, Aristidis?”

He had already started on a circuit of the tholos tomb. Aristidis let him complete it by himself.

“Not much to look at, is it? No wonder it's been ignored for so long. Saw it myself the other week and never thought anything of it. Well spotted, Laetitia! And I see you've exposed a temple or some such? Will you do the honours, William?”

He inspected the diggings, listening to Gunning's commentary, exclaiming and questioning, intrigued by all he saw.

Finally, he came back to the group. “Now, you'll all be wanting news of George? With all the excitement up here, I don't expect he's been much on your mind?” he said blandly. He was looking at Gunning when he spoke. The accusation of careless lack of interest was plain.

It was Aristidis who replied. “William has said a prayer for your son every morning and evening in Ayios Pavlos. I have knelt at his side. And my son Nikolas, who returned at dawn this morning, brought back the news he had requested from Dr. Stoddart.”

“Ah. Indeed. Then your information is as fresh as my own. The lad's out of the woods and will recover. Many bones broken and it's all going to take some time, but at least he's conscious and talking. I'm to be allowed to fetch him home tomorrow.”

“We look forward to seeing George on our return,” said Letty warmly. “This is truly good news. And if we all stop gossiping, roll up our sleeves, and get busy, we may well have something worth reporting to him. Let's dedicate the day's digging to George!” She handed Theodore a pick. “Here you are, Mr. Russell, you can take the first swing. Aristidis will show you where to aim it.”

Archaeological zeal overwhelmed his desire for any further social skirmishing. He went off by himself to the spot his sharp eyes and experience had already identified as the place to make the first incision. They trooped after him. He paused before he swung the pick to smile mischievously at Letty.

“Well, it seems we're about to wake the King of the Gods! Got your kisses ready, Laetitia?” he said, reminding her of Stewart's taunt.

“Honed to perfection. I've been practising all week,” she replied, easily.

One by one, the limestone blocks were prised off. As soon as the hole was big enough to admit the broad shoulders of Aristidis, he checked the depth of the void and lowered himself down into it. They caught the glimmer of his flashlight as he moved about, along with an occasional low whistle and muttered oath. After what seemed an interminable time, he returned, looking up at them, his excitement only just held in check.

“It's a burial chamber,” he announced. “Untouched, I'd say, since the last lamp went out thousands of years ago. Problem is going to be access. It's carved out of the rock—possibly a natural cave that's been extended. We could get in through what you might call the front door—through the wall of the tholos…”

“No! You can't do that,” said Gunning anxiously. “The whole structure would collapse.”

“I thought you'd say that. Nothing for it, then, but to strip off the roof covering. Might be possible. Come down and take a look.”

Aristidis moved aside to make room for Gunning, and five minutes later two grinning faces appeared again.

“Well, man? Come on! Let's have your evaluation!” said Theodore.

“It's not just a grave shaft. More in the nature of a miniature temple! Sturdily built, and they've left carved stone columns in place as supports. Traces of wooden beams, rotted away, but the stone slabs they've covered it over with have settled into an accommodation with the hillside and they've done their work perfectly. There's no sign of masonry collapse that I can see. If we can get the slabs off without causing havoc, we won't have much clearance to do at all. It's going to take some muscle power, though. You may find yourself lending a hand, Theo!”

The remaining blocks were taken up, carted off, and stacked to one side. Men heaved on levers and pulled on ropes. Theodore rolled up his shirtsleeves and cracked his mighty muscles, giving a hand whenever the gang appeared to flag. Letty watched as the void below the surface was, foot by foot, exposed.

No one spoke. The silence was broken only by the grunts of the diggers and their occasional sharp instructions and exhortations to each other.

The morning's steady work had revealed the side chamber Gunning had predicted. It lay at their feet, untouched since the day the body had been sealed inside and the wall of the tholos built up above it. The last rites had been to sacrifice the horse and the bull whose bones lay sanctifying and guarding the entrance. Perhaps grave goods had been set out on the floor of the beehive, but these had long ago been found and taken away by tomb robbers. But no robber had intruded here and Letty gazed, at a loss for words, as the significance of what she was seeing silenced her.

On quiet instructions from Aristidis, two men let themselves down onto the floor of the tomb and carefully swept up the clods of earth and lumps of masonry dislodged during the excavation, placing them into baskets. They looked around them, satisfying themselves that the ground was clear and uncontaminated, and climbed back out again, waiting.

Theodore spoke. “So! First impressions of the side chamber. Hewn from the rock and the blocks used to build up the tholos alongside. Seven foot deep, ten foot square. Built for single occupancy. And there's the single occupant. In the centre, lying east to west. Bearing bodily ornaments. Surrounded by grave goods of various kinds. A rich burial. From a first look at the important (and intact) pot I see at the corpse's elbow, I'd hazard: Neopalatial period. Between 1700 and 1450
B.C.
”

Letty gazed down at “the occupant.” No god, this. The body had been stretched out on limestone blocks on the floor and over the centuries the flesh and sinews had melted away. What little remained had hardened and calcified until it was one with the same colourless rock. She could just make out the shadowy form of the limbs and the defenceless round shape of the skull, all that was left of a head that had lain turned onto its left cheek. The grey eggshell was still pitifully encircled by a diadem of glinting gold pieces; the threads that had held it together were long gone, but the lozenges themselves were annealed in place, defying decay, announcing to the world that here lay a person of vast importance.

The urn by its side was spilling over with jewellery. The gold still gleamed, gemstones still winked in the sunshine, lapis, glass, paste, rock crystal. Other metal, blackened by age, might have been silver. The body was overlaid by other jewels that would give clues to the identity of the body. Certainly the bronze rings she saw where the fingers had once curled would tell their tale. Her eye was caught by a trail of small glinting ornaments from where the waist would have been and on down to the ankles, and Letty was puzzled.

She looked again at the head with its curious turn to the left. She saw the dull oval object a few inches to the side of the face in line with the eye sockets and stared in surprise. Had anyone else noticed? Over the void, Aristidis exclaimed as he reached the same startling conclusion.

Avoiding Theodore's obstructing hand and deaf to Gunning's warning shout, Letty grasped her skirts about the knee in one hand and, putting the other on the lip of the tomb, she jumped down into it. She tiptoed, mesmerised, around the body and knelt at its side. Taking her digging knife from her belt, she slid it gently underneath the oval shape. It came free at once. She lifted it and held it to her own face and stared into the looking glass, her lips moving as she spoke words she was unconscious of speaking. She saw in the dusty bronze depths a ghost of an outline, a large-eyed, lovely, and questioning face.

One voice from above broke through her spell. Aristidis. “Do you see her, Miss Laetitia?”

She shook her head. “No, only myself. I missed her. By about three and a half thousand years.”

“Good lord! What are you saying, Letty?” Gunning said urgently. “That this is a woman? We're looking at a
female
burial?”

“Yes, I'd say so, wouldn't you? I'm quite sure Cretan males, cockerels all—and vain—might have cast the odd admiring glance at themselves in a polished bronze mirror, but I doubt they would have been buried with one alongside. And this lady would have been worth looking at! Do you see these necklaces still on her bosom? Amethysts? Could that be amber? Gold of the most exquisite workmanship! This one's been beaten into whisper-thin flower petals…” The rush of words ceased as, peering closely, she absorbed the significance of a second gold ornament. A broad pendant, intricately worked, this one showed, framed by arching palm branches, a goddess with arms spread out in a wide gesture. A dove settled on each wrist, and at her feet sprawled protectively two wild creatures that Letty took to be lions.

Letty looked up at her audience, ready at last to speak. “I think we've found a deity. A Nature Goddess. The Mistress of the Animals? Or her priestess—this could be a Royal Priestess…the Ariadne of her day? And look here—have you noticed these?” She pointed to the rows of gold beads trailing below the waist. “Back home, on the ballroom dancing floor, we'd call these sequins. They were sewn onto a garment. And if you count the rows—”

“Already have,” came Theo's dry voice. “Seven! All that's left of a flounced skirt. Outlining each tier. Care to give us another sewing lesson, miss?”

He could restrain himself no longer. “Get the girl out of there!” he said firmly to no one in particular. “Camera, William? We must record this before the scene gets trampled by any more boots. I especially want a striking shot of that clay larnax over there in the corner. Had you seen? It bears a picture of a bull, tied by the heels and being sacrificed on an altar. Fresh as the day it was painted! There will be a huge amount of information on that! I may find myself having to rewrite chapter eleven…what do you say, William? Aristidis—remove the men from the scene now, will you? I'd like to have the place to myself for a bit. Surely you've got something to occupy them over at the temple? I thought I saw a row of underground cists they could well be taking a stab at.”

Aristidis put out a brawny arm and hauled Letty out of the tomb. As he steadied her on her feet by him she could feel his tension. If ever the man did lose his iron control, she decided she would not want to be standing next to him. The six diggers had taken a step back, beginning to mutter to each other, looking to their Kapitan for a lead. Poised, she thought, to down tools and stalk off. They'd done it once before; she sensed they would take grim pleasure in doing it again.

It was Gunning who defused the gathering bad feeling. He lowered himself into the pit Letty had just vacated and, holding up his hands and turning around with the confidence of a showman or a priest, gathered everyone's attention. Then, shielding his eyes with his right hand from the glare of the sun, knuckles to his forehead, he advanced on the regal remains.

He stood at the calcified feet and made up a prayer:

“Hail, Goddess! Lady Mother,
Mistress of Animals, Eldest of Beings!
Sister and wife of loud-thundering Zeus,
You are blessed and revered in these hills.
Happy is the man it pleases you to honour,
For he will have all good things in abundance:
Wine, honey, flocks, and fair women.”