Tutankhamun Uncovered (73 page)

“We would be taking considerable risk,” cautioned Meneg. “The plan must ultimately fail. Out lord’s eternal future depends upon it.”

“Your words are wise, old man,” said Tutankhamun. “This is a most dangerous direction for us to take. We risk oblivion.”

“And what do you think this current situation is relentlessly developing into?” asked the queen. “In order for us to have a chance to turn the tide of evil, we have no alternative but to take risks. I would like to hear what nature of trap it is that the master mason might suggest. We must wrest control of forward events from those who act against us. We can only do this through our own actions. We cannot sit and watch, hoping by chance that things will take a turn for the better. Ugele, what plan have you in mind?”

“My lady, I have not fashioned a plan. This is something we should work on together. I have an idea, though...”

“This is madness,” said Tutankhamun.

“Hear him out, my king, I implore you. Proceed, Master Mason.”

Ugele paused and looked at the king. After a moment or two Tutankhamun nodded his assent.

“This man Carter will be returned to work in The Royal Valley. If not, your Majesties need not worry. But it is likely, as you say, that he will be permitted to return. He has already begun to expose the holy of holies. It is therefore correct to assume that he will continue this process. If we can succeed in physically stopping this man before he reaches the portal, it could force the evil adversary, should he in fact exist, to act. He may become careless in his urgency, thereby exposing himself to us.”

“But how do you propose laying the trap?” Meneg asked.

“That is where I need your help.”

There was a long silence. Every mind was at work. There was a lot at stake. The outcome could mean their survival or their annihilation.

Tia was the first to speak. “My lady; my lord; good friends; this we could do: influence the Director of the Antiquities Service to preserve the tomb in its current form. We have successfully influenced him in the recent past.”

“Impossible!” exclaimed the king. “They take everything for public display in the new city in the north land. They will not do otherwise. Besides, they would open and inspect everything first. Their desire to see all overcomes everything else.”

“I do not believe so, my lord,” Tia returned bravely. “There could be some real attraction for these people to seeing things in their untouched state. That will be gone for ever once the man Carter has exposed the coffins. In any case, to expose our quarry, all we have to do is to make it appear that the Director is about to do this.”

“Tia is right, lord,” said the queen. “We can do this.”

The king thought for some moments and then said, “Very well. There is little choice. We shall try. My queen will compel the Director to move towards this objective. Dashir and Ugele will watch for the appearance of the infidel. If it does not work and we find no such evil force... kill them kill them all. That, at least, will ensure that they meet an equable fate.”

Horemheb was beside himself with rage. The Director was in the act of proposing to the new Minister of Public Works that, while Carter should be returned to the concession, it should be but to complete preservation and shipment of the articles already removed from the tomb and still awaiting his attention in the laboratory. He should then be directed to prepare the tomb in its current state minus the lifting tackle for permanent display.

The general took a deep breath to calm himself and began to think how this turn of events could have come about. Try as he could he was unable to explain such a change of direction. There was no logic to it Carter, no doubt, would become incensed at the news and another court case would ensue; equally there could be no doubt he would lose again, this time probably for good and all. And Lacau why the change of heart?

“He must be here, now. He must know. Why did I not think of this before? Stupid! All the time he has been watching me. All the time one step ahead. How could I have been so complacent? It is time to bring the curtain down on this regretful episode once and for eternity.”

Tutankhamun’s loyal followers roamed the streets in search of any sign of mischief in The Valley, in the bars, the cafés, the smoking houses in the sukh, the brothels, even the city jail. Their principal problem was that they had no idea who it was they were looking for. They would have to recognise suspicious signs, activity, talk, and follow these up. All appeared to go nowhere just dead ends. And they couldn’t be everywhere at once. The task was much harder than they had thought.

Horemheb, on the other hand, believed he did know who he was looking for and was on the lookout everywhere he went.

The slight figure was vaguely familiar. Somewhere in the mists of time he felt he had seen the man before. The two at the table were deep in conversation.

“You will meet him,” said the robber, “and the others. We gather here every day at noon and prepare for the job.”

The general was uncertain. He did not like to have doubts. Loyalty was never a quality of fiends, and ‘trust’ a word not in his vocabulary. But, linked together with a prize beyond price and the avarice to go for it to the exclusion of all else, a band of infidels had a common, solid bond and would look out for one another, at least until the job was completed. But this man there was something about him. Remaining in the shadows he racked his memory for a name.

Dashir was sure he was onto something. The ‘job’, although he had not been told anything definitive as yet, had to be big. The man clearly anticipated enormous booty. Dashir did a little more risky fishing. “If you need someone with experience you have him here before you. I have robbed tombs there in The Valley.” He gestured over his shoulder.

The robber was surprised at so direct a statement and it raised his suspicions. “That so? And what makes you think, my fine friend, that it is a tomb robbery that we have in mind?”

“Ah, well, I just assumed. A big job. What else could it be. And I am sure I know which tomb!”

Dashir’s overconfidence and directness were about to get him into a whole lot of trouble. Then he felt the king summon him. He excused himself to get another drink and disappeared into the crowd.

While the robber waited for the stranger to return, the general came out of the shadows and stood over him. “Who was that man?” he asked.

“I know not, master. I had put the word about that we were looking for men and he was one who came to see me. He worries me, though. I told him nothing more than we were preparing for a job and straight away he tells me he knows it’s a tomb and he knows which tomb bold as brass! I do not trust him. Since he has guessed right what do you think we should do?”

“He will not come back today your words frightened him away. Find him. Dispose of him.”

But Horemheb was almost certain the man would not be found. Could he really be a spirit such as he and not a king?

The general and his co-conspirator had been unaware that they were being overheard.

“Who do you think he is?” asked the queen.

“We know it can’t be Horemheb, right? You destroyed everything absolutely everything?” asked Tutankhamun.

“Oh, yes, my lord everything to the last piece.” Ugele, Dashir, Meneg and Parneb all nodded together. “No doubts.”

“Then who is this infidel that seeks to destroy me?”

There was silence for a few moments, then Meneg said, “Perhaps no more than a common criminal.”

“We can stop him if he is mortal,” said Parneb, but with no note of conviction in his voice.

“You’ll have to find him first,” said Dashir, who had continued to watch the goings on in the bar below. “He has disappeared! Just vanished before my eyes.”

“We will find him fear not, my lord,” reassured Parneb. “We found him once, and now we know what we are looking for.”

“IF he is mortal,” Dashir repeated to Meneg.

As things turned out, however, neither the robber nor his leader were ever seen again. And Monsieur le Directeur did not succeed in convincing the Minister of his proposal. It was not a viable proposition. Egypt and the world needed to see and study everything that still lay buried in that tomb it all had to come out.

Carter was waiting.

Chapter Twenty Four

Carter dunked his Peak Freans water biscuit in his tea and sucked it down noisily. The breeze off the Atlantic was comfortably cool. As the ponderous engines of the steamer throbbed beneath him, he sat back in his deck chair and contemplated the vast, tossing seascape before him. His mind drifted first to Egypt, then to thoughts of lush summer pastures in the countryside of England, and finally to preparation for his forthcoming lecture tour in the United States of America. He approached the task with some trepidation, especially the invitation he had received to meet with the President a parallel honour so far not bestowed by his countrymen but he did not dwell on it.

He was happy to be getting away. Hard and unfamiliar work it may turn out to be, but it was different, sufficiently different to improve the likelihood of his forgetting the distasteful moments of this past season and hopefully form a basis for carving out a new future.

But two concerns remained.

So convinced was he of the righteousness of his position throughout the great fight he had just lost that he felt compelled to commit its history to paper; this to vindicate himself and his colleagues and expose the unjust ruling before his peers. He had brought copies of all the relevant correspondence with him and would get the facts onto paper quickly before the memory became tainted with time.

And then there was that beautiful head. It might be discovered. If not, some day he would have to risk going back to claim it. Every time he reflected on it, clouds of guilt would quickly form and close in around him.

He pulled his notebook from his inside jacket pocket, rolled off the rubber band that secured it and turned to a clean page. He patted all about his jacket in search of his pencil, eventually finding it neatly secured in the hatband of his Homburg. He sighed, placed the hat back on his head, and began to write.

The blue, foaming waters roared all around him, occasionally flinging salty droplets onto his face. As he wrote, he tasted the water with his tongue. The words flowed freely. For once he felt unpreoccupied, released from all diversions. He scribbled with considerable energy, barely pausing for thought.

The boat violently lurched on a high wave, causing him to break his pencil point. The steamer crashed down onto its other side, belching a great wall of sea spray all over him. As the deck pitched, Carter’s chair skidded alarmingly sideways towards the handrail. His teacup and saucer fell from the armrest, bounced on the decking and rolled over the side.

Enough, he thought. He stood up and shook the water from his notebook. He brushed at his damp clothes, gathered up his things and unsteadily descended the steps to the deck where his cabin was located.

Safely inside the security of his cabin, and comfortably stripped to his stockinged feet and underwear, he relaxed on his bunk. His mind drifted back to thoughts of America. He could see himself standing at the podium, making his first lecture to a packed hall of distinguished academics. He saw a hand raised at the back of the room. He was glad of the opportunity to break his one-way monologue and was about to take the imaginary question when his thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

“Who is it?”

“One guess,” came the whispered reply.

Carter sighed. He didn’t want company. He certainly didn’t wish to play games. He would have dismissed the caller without so much as an enquiry as to his identity, but there was something familiar in that accent. After a moment’s pause, Carter whispered back through the louvres, “A clue?”

“Dis toime tis Oi who feels d’ sickness.”

“SEAMUS!” Carter quickly pulled on his dressing gown and threw open the door. He stood in the doorway for a moment grinning from ear to ear, then moved aside. “Come in! Come in, Father. Oh, I can’t tell you how much this happenstance meeting pleases me!”

Carter was absolutely genuine. They embraced.

“Please. Please sit down. God. Ah. Oh. Forgive me. It must be thirty years, surely, if it’s a day.”

“No, t’ree to be exact, sir. Just t’ree. D’ last toime we met was t’ree years ago, an’ just before y’ became famous. One tends t’ count more accurate when one’s in one’s sixties, on account of d’ere isn’t d’at much left, y’ see. An’ th’ meetin’ always on a boat an’ in a storm, so it seems... Well. Let me look at y’ a famous man an’ all, is it?” The corpulent priest looked Carter up and down. “Oi couldn’t believe it moiself, so Oi couldn’t. Oi was readin’ d’is manifest, y’ see, an’ me eyes came upon d’at famous name and Oi ’ad t’ come an’ foind you. An’ roight glad I am d’at Oi ’ave. Roight glad.”

Carter looked soulfully at his hands.

“To be honest about it, Seamus, I had no wish to see anyone this afternoon.” He paused and then smiled. “But the sight of you has changed all that. Will you have a drink? No champagne, I’m afraid, but probably just as well. Your ‘cure’ certainly took my mind off the nausea, but I paid for it on the train from Alexandria! I occupied the first-class toilet almost the entire journey to Cairo!” Carter laughed.

The priest chuckled. “Yes. Y’ told me about it d’last toime we met. Tis a moite early but Oi t’ink Oi’ll ‘ave just a little of y’ gin. Would y’ be havin’ it in d’ cabin?”

“Indeed! What self-respecting Englishman would be without a bottle of ‘mother’s ruin’ close by his person?... And tonic?”

“Oi t’ink not. Oi’ve to give a sermon in d’ first-class lounge at t’ree dis afternoon and Oi needs to keep a clear head. A little neat gin will sharpen me senses permit me to do God’s work wid a little sparkle, so t’ speak.” The priest grinned.

“Oh, Seamus, it’s so good to see you,” Carter repeated, clearly relieved. “But what takes you to New York?” “Dey tell me dere’s a loada Oirish awaitin’ me blessing. An’ you? What brings you to the States?” “I have been invited to give a number of lectures. Oh, Seamus, there is so much to talk about...”