Written in the Ashes (49 page)

And then the cheetahs came. The low growl started in the distance, and then grew closer. Hannah’s eyes flew open. “What do we do?”

“Shhh.” Gideon clamped his hand over her mouth.

In the pitch blackness, the caravan waited and the camels groaned uneasily, sensing the predators. Alizar lit a torch and swung it in a wide circle but the wind blew it out as the eyes of the cheetahs flashed beyond the sand hill.

Hannah clung to the shard of the Emerald Tablet, now glowing around her neck. She whispered its inscription for strength.
Soul immortal, no fire can burn thee, no fate can change thy eternal truth.

After an hour of interminable terror, the cats showed themselves. Two large males accompanied by a juvenile. “Alizar?” whispered Hannah, her voice quavering in fear.

“Stay calm. We will use our knives if attacked.”

“It is likely they will take one of the camels,” whispered Gideon.

“Yes, if we are lucky that is all they will take,” said Alizar.

The first attack came swiftly. Hannah screamed. The massive claws of the young cheetah split the canvas where they hid between the camels, and the beast’s belly met with an upward thrust of Gideon’s knife. He jerked his knife sideways, and the cat fell dead beside them, though it had managed a considerable slash across Gideon’s shoulder with its claws.

The second attack came shortly thereafter, the two adult animals joining forces to bring down the smaller camel. The camel howled and blood spurted from its throat as the group clamored to pull themselves away from the dying beast, leaving it to the cheetahs.

They had been fortunate, indeed.

The next morning the sky above them was clear. The winds had subsided, if only for a brief time. Alizar sprung to his feet and began to assess their losses as Gideon did some quick calculations and set them back on course. Jemir skinned the dead cheetah. Much of their supplies had to be left in the desert as they secured only the most vital elements to the remaining camel. Then they set out to the east with the sun before them and somewhere in the distance, the Nile River.

The river in Egypt. Hannah’s father had promised this was where they would go. Now, if they survived, she would reach it. She closed her eyes and asked her father to lead them there. She was shaken from the attack of the cheetahs, and weakened. Yet she prayed they would find their way.

Fortunately, Gideon knew patches of this route as he had traveled the region before to bury the
pythos
full of manuscripts in the desert for Alizar. He knew where to find water and wild yams. And as soon as they had crossed the valley, the
Kahmsin
winds subsided.

At a small oasis Gideon found a tribe of friendly Bedouin, and the caravan was led east to the Nile thanks to several coins from Alizar’s purse. The beautiful river offered a new array of vegetation and wildlife, and Hannah was able to bring down several ducks with her shepherd’s sling. The Bedouin offered fresh milk and tasty seed bread. They ate well again.

Once on the Nile, they were introduced by the Bedouin to a group of Egyptian tradesmen traveling to Memphis, and the caravan was welcomed on board the little skiffs that made their way downstream. When the tradesmen commented on the beauty of the cheetah skin, Alizar was happy to leave it in thanks.

As the sun slipped from the horizon, Hannah was met by a vision from her dreams. The Pyramids of Giza rose up from the desert as the skiffs drifted slowly past, illuminated from behind by the setting sun as a flock of ibis soared past. Entranced, Hannah could not tear her eyes away. Gideon settled beside her and slid his arms around her to view the citadels of light, armored by the geometry of heaven. Yes, this was Egypt after all.

So.

They reached their destination in the evening.

The unguarded tomb of Amen-hotep rested on the west of Memphis, nestled in an array of plundered temples. Gideon smiled in pride, seeing the one ruined temple where he had hidden an important shipment of manuscripts deep in the earth only the year before. Alizar’s map would indicate it, but no traveler would ever find it, he was certain.

The caravan stopped at the door of the tomb.

“Surely we will not just walk inside and take the tablet,” said Hannah.

“The tomb is sealed from the inside,” said Tarek, examining the stone. “We will not open it.”

“Perhaps,” said Hannah as she unwrapped the lower half of the Emerald Tablet. As soon as it was unveiled, it began to glow lustrous green in the darkness. Hannah held it aloft and waited.

Then, from behind the tomb door, a twin viridescent light began to flicker, then glow, until the enormous stone door swung ajar.

The tomb of Amen-hotep had been revealed.

Gideon tugged the door open and Hannah carefully stepped inside. Alizar followed her with a torch.

The tomb was entirely empty. Not even a mural on the walls, or any sarcophagus or treasure of the pharaoh remained.

“The priests of the pharaoh must have emptied it and moved the mummy to protect it from grave robbers,” said Alizar.

Hannah walked all through the small rectangular room, finding nothing. Gideon, Jemir, Alizar and Tarek each walked the length of the tomb, and they could find not even a shred of the dead Pharaoh’s burial riches. The Emerald Tablet in Hannah’s hands ceased to glow.

“It is not here,” said Hannah. “We came in vain.”

Tarek interrupted her, cursing, having stumbled on an uneven stone. But Gideon knelt down on the ground and brushed his hand across the floor. “Perhaps not in vain,” he said. “Alizar, your torch.”

Alizar knelt down beside him. The two men blew at the thick layer of dust and wiped it away with their
tunicas
. Once the dust had been cleared, Hannah could see a limestone block with hieroglyphs carved along one edge, slightly raised in the floor, not something of interest to a grave robber.

Alizar pulled out a knife, and Gideon another, and the men chipped away at the stone until it loosened. “Come, everyone, give it a tug,” said Alizar. “Tarek, wedge my staff beneath it when we lift it.” And the caravan gathered to one side of the stone and gave it a mighty tug, lifting it just enough for Tarek to slip the staff beneath it. With the lever they were able to shove the block off to the side, revealing a slender staircase.

“Do not go down there,” announced Tarek. “The hieroglyphs indicate this tomb is guarded by Seth. To trespass here will bring his wrath.”

“Surely you are not as superstitious as all that,” said Gideon.

“I agree with him,” announced Jemir. “I feel this place is cursed.”

“Then we should leave an offering,” said Alizar. “For the god Seth.”

“What do we have left?” asked Gideon.

Tarek turned and walked out of the tomb, cursing beneath his breath.

“Almost nothing,” said Alizar. “My purse is empty and the cheetah skin was given to the tradesmen.”

Hannah emptied her satchel of the fossil shells she had been collecting on the journey. “What of these?”

“They will have to do,” said Gideon, spreading them on the floor.

“Give me your torch,” said Hannah, holding her hand out to Alizar.

“No,” said Alizar. “Whatever is down there, I will face it for all of us.”

“That is very kind of you Alizar, but this narrow entrance was not designed with a man in mind.” Hannah stood on the top step. “The torch?”

Alizar looked at the entrance, and handed Hannah the torch.

The narrow staircase led down to a small stone chamber. There in the center, the torch illuminated a wooden chest with the winged sun disk painted over the lid. Hannah recognized it as identical to the one she had seen in Delfi. “It is here!” she called up to the men. “We have found it.”

When Hannah pushed the chest up to Gideon and wriggled free of the entrance, everyone gathered around to see it opened.

Gideon sprung the hasp, and Hannah reached inside and removed a burgundy linen bundle, painted with glyphs of protection. She carefully unwrapped it to reveal the upper half of the Emerald Tablet of Hermes Trismagistus, resplendent in the torchlight.

“We should unite the two halves!” declared Tarek.

“No,” said Alizar. “Not yet. I think we should get the tablet to the library first and alert Hypatia and Orestes. This is their moment now.”

“Yes,” said Gideon. “Orestes can reveal it publicly and win the support of the city. We must not alert Cyril that we have it. Let us put the two halves of the tablet in one chest, and leave the empty one here, so that there is no mistake.”

Everyone agreed and the empty chest with the seashells as an offering was set in the center of the tomb. The chest in Alizar’s arms, heavy with the tablet, took on the faint glow of deep ocean waves.

“Hannah?” asked Gideon. “Hannah?”

Hannah did not respond, slowly walking toward the entrance. She stumbled toward the moonlight and sat down, breathing heavily.

Gideon went to her. “Hannah? What is wrong?”

“It is nothing. Merely indigestion.”

“You see, I told you not to go down there,” said Tarek, leaning against a nearby column drum. “Now you are cursed.”

“Tarek, shut up!” said Gideon.

Insulted, Tarek flew at him, attempting to land a punch.

Gideon stood up and with one swift punch to the gut, Tarek fell to his knees unable to breathe.

“I never want to see this bastard boy again,” declared Gideon, hitting Tarek once more in the nose. “He will be the end of us all, I swear it.”

Tarek looked up from the ground, spitting blood. “You each have brought your own end,” he said. “I need have nothing to do with that.” He pointed. “You see! It has begun.”

As he spoke, Hannah slumped over, her hands clutching her belly. Alizar saw her and caught her before her head struck the ground.

“The curse!” said Jemir.

“This is no curse,” said Alizar. “Only the effects of all our travel. She would not listen to me. Come. We must carry her.”

The angel stretched in discomfort as the edges of the crushing darkness spread inward. No sky to escape into. No light.

So.

Jemir built a small fire and heated a stew. They attended to her like concerned fathers through the remainder of the night, taking turns holding her hands and wiping her forehead, bickering about what herb to give her from Jemir’s satchel. Come first light they sailed from Memphis to the coast, and struck out on foot the rest of the way to Alexandria.

The desire of reaching home sustained them when they ran out of food.

“Roasted lamb,” said Jemir, licking his lips.

“Honey cakes,” said Tarek.

“Wine,” said Gideon.

“A bath,” declared Alizar, uncharacteristically giddy, “and a smoke.”

“Julian,” whispered Hannah under her breath, letting her hand brush the shard of the Emerald Tablet that still rested between her breasts.

By the time they saw the outline of the city etched against the sky, Hannah had slipped into a state of delirium. By early evening they entered Alizar’s courtyard, exhausted, caked in dust and grime, and deeply concerned.

Alizar threw the camel ropes over a rail and rushed into his house to announce his return before going to the Great Library to summon the doctor for Hannah.

But something struck him internally. His home was silent. Too silent. Where were his hounds?

Alizar cupped his hands beside his mouth and called them.

Silence.

At once his heart began to race.

He gave a familiar whistle, praying.

Nothing.

He came up the back steps through the courtyard, and that was when he heard it. A whimper. Somewhere in the stones. He turned as one timid red hound crawled from behind the cistern, head low. There beside it lay the second, throat slit, dull red fur squirming with maggots beneath the cloud of gathering flies. Alizar stopped, struck through. Then he bent and carried the living dog away from the dead.

Alizar set his hound in the kitchen and ran through the house and the gardens, knowing, just knowing disaster had struck. He had seen it in the eyes of the hound. When Jemir saw him, he followed.

The two men found Leitah slumped at the door to Alizar’s tower, the lock broken, her breath nearly gone from her body. Jemir cried out and clutched Leitah to his breast.

“Leitah, speak, you must tell us what happened,” Alizar pleaded of the mute girl, dying in her husband’s arms. “Praise Zeus, I wish that you would speak.”

With a last strained effort, Leitah looked up at them, her eyes wet with blood that ran from her crown. “Orestes,” she said in a thin, faltering voice so unused to speaking. “The library.”

As the breath left Leitah’s lips, a scroll marked with the bishop’s seal fell from her fingers and rolled through the open door.

Beyond it, Alizar’s tower lay in ruin. His work of decades was lost, the scrolls and codices shredded, the pots smashed to dust.

Alizar fell to his knees beside his friends and wept.

So.

Gideon stayed with Hannah, whose breath grew thinner by the hour.

Alizar rushed through the catacombs to the Great Library. Synesius met him in the Great Hall.

“Synesius, what has happened? Tell me,” commanded Alizar.

Synesius bent his head and joined his fingertips. This would be hard news to deliver, especially to Alizar. He took a breath.

Alizar lunged forward. “Synesius, I must know!”

Synesius exhaled and met Alizar’s intense gaze. “Orestes was stoned.”

“Who?”

“The Parabolani.”

An arrow of anger flashed though Alizar’s heart. “Curse them.”

They walked swiftly through the Great Hall of the library, not even bothering to quiet their voices as they passed beneath the glass cupola.

“He is alive?”

Synesius nodded. “Yes, but the wounds are deep. He may not wake.”

Alizar quickened his steps. “And Phoebe?”

“She is with him now.”

Alizar clenched his fists. Cyril had gone too far with this unforgivable competition of his. “What incited this stoning?”

“Orestes refused the Pentateuch when Cyril offered it to him to kiss. They stood in the
agora
, Cyril having invited him there to make peace. The priests were ready with their stones. They knew Orestes would refuse.”