Kaji’s jaw was set. “My three brothers, my six nephews. Two of my three sons. They died today on the pyramid.”
Asim took an involuntary step backward. “You took an oath to only watch.”
“I am done with being a Watcher. My surviving son will be the next Kaji. The next Watcher of Giza, of the Roads of Rostau.”
“Still, you took an oath.” Asim took another step back.
“You know there are those beyond the Watchers,” Kaji said. “Those who act.” Kaji held up his hands, his fingers lacking the ring that was the symbol of the first rank of his order. “After opening a door to the Roads of Rostau I left my ring for my son to find.”
That struck Asim as hard as a blade. The priest held up the sword, but had not drawn the blade. “What good will it do to kill me?”
Kaji barked a laugh. “You’re not that important.” “Then what—”
“Excalibur,” Kaji said. “It is theirs. And it is the key. I will take it.”
“You cannot. It is only for the Gods.”
Kaji indicated Asim’s wounds. “Have you ever looked at yourself? What has been done to you?”
“It is the price of service.”
“To what end?” Kaji’s voice shook. “To what end does your service go?”
“To get eternal life,” Asim said. “To partake of the Grail.”
“The Grail has been around since the dawn of time and we have never been allowed to partake!”
Asim’s voice fell to a whisper. “It will happen someday. If not to me, then to those who follow. But only to the true believers.”
Kaji took another step closer to the priest. He was in range of the blade, but Asim did not draw it. “Has it ever occurred to you that perhaps partaking of the Grail might not be a good thing?”
Asim’s eyes widened. He blinked as if he had just heard that the sky was red, his head shaking in disbelief.
“Excalibur,” Kaji said.
Asim shook his head more firmly. “It must be kept safe.”
“You think this place is safe?” Kaji didn’t wait for an answer. “The ‘gods’ fight among themselves. Both sides know of the Roads of Rostau. It must be hidden from them or else we will have repeats of today’s disaster.”
“But the Ancient Enemy—” Khufu began.
“Yes, the Ancient Enemy.” Kaji nodded. “Excalibur must be protected from the Ancient Enemy also. I saw what happened on the top of the pyramid. What makes you think that was the only enemy that survived?”
“The enemy was destroyed.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Kaji said. “I saw the Libyan taken by the Ancient Enemy in the desert to the west of here. More danger could be close by. The sword must be removed from here.”
Asim frowned. “What do you know of the Ancient Enemy?”
A strange look crossed Kaji’s face. “The legends—” His voice trailed off.
“How did you know to go out into the desert?” Asim pressed. “Why did—” Asim continued but he didn’t complete the sentence as Kaji slammed his dagger into the priest’s chest.
Asim lay on the tunnel floor, dead. Kaji reached down and took the priest’s cloak, wrapping it around his own slender body, pulling the hood up over his head. He picked up Excalibur and the scepter. Then he headed toward the surface.
Khufu was alone on the roof of the pyramid temple. The removal of the covering stones was complete about a third of the way down. People from all around were at the base, taking the limestone with them, as the Pharaoh had allowed it. They could build homes with the stone. It might as well serve some positive purpose. Several large rough blocks had been emplaced on top to keep the semblance of a pyramid and also hide the fact that something else had once been up there.
He heard his guards snap to attention below and turned. A slight figure came up the ladder onto the roof, moving with difficulty. He recognized Asim from the high priest’s cloak and the sword in the man’s hand.
“I thought you were taking that back underground,” Khufu said. “Have you had second thoughts?”
The figure came closer. Khufu gasped as the sword was drawn and the blade came across his neck. He could feel the coolness of the metal against his skin.
“Are you insane, Asim?”
The man pulled his hood down, revealing his features. “Who are you?”
“A man. Like you. My name is Kaji.”
Khufu stared into the man’s eyes. “Are you going to kill me?” “Asim is dead. I killed him.”
Khufu looked back up at the defaced pyramid. The sword pressed tighter against his throat. He waited to feel it slice his skin. Now, for the first time in his life, Khufu felt his mortality, and knew that he was not the favored of the Gods, that he was just a man.
“He lied to you because he was lied to,” Kaji said.
“Lied about what?” Khufu asked, hoping to avoid this dark fate as long as possible, thinking that perhaps one of his guards might check on them, also knowing that hope was futile, as no one would dare interrupt the Pharaoh while he was consulting with his high priest.
“The gods. The empty promises.” The sword was removed from Khufu’s throat and Kaji sheathed it, before hiding it under his cloak. “My Pharaoh—” Kaji pointed toward the pyramid. “That is what has been done to your people in the name of the gods. Perhaps it is best if these gods are not part of our lives. I will let you live if you give me your word as Pharaoh to rule as a man and not as a puppet to the gods.” Khufu swallowed and nodded, his confidence shattered by recent events. “Yes. Yes. I can do that. I will do that.”
“I do not believe you,” Kaji said simply. “Still, killing you will solve nothing and in reality, you have little choice now but to rule as a man. And there is doubt in your mind now. Perhaps that is all I can do here. Doubt is the seed from which one day may grow independence. The ability to think for ourselves. We have been lied to many times, by the gods, by the priests. We must make our own truth.”
With that, Kaji turned and disappeared down the ladder. He made his way along the processional path, the guards keeping their distance, recognizing the cloak of Asim, the high priest, second only to the Pharaoh himself. Kaji maintained the strange gait of the priest until he reached the Lower Temple. Then he went by the priest’s path to the nearby Nile where a small boat waited, manned by a young man who wore the medallion of the Watchers.
Set in the boat was a wooden box, three and a half feet long. The young man swung the top of the box open. Kaji placed the sheathed sword into the box, then closed the lid. He then handed the tube holding his report to the man. The boat slipped away into the darkness to make its long journey to deliver the report and sword.
CHAPTER 2: THE PRESENT
Lisa Duncan looked down her blood-spattered robe, fingers reaching into the hole in the cloth where the bullet that had killed her had gone through. The skin below was unblemished with no sign of the fatal wound. She touched the spot herself, as if not believing her own eyes.
“Who are you?” Mike Turcotte was in front of her and he placed his hands on her shoulders, fingers digging in a little too tightly. “I saw you die.” Turcotte said the words in a whisper, as if not believing them. “I held you in my arms and watched you die. I felt you die.”
A deep, accented voice caused Turcotte to look over his shoulder. “She partook of the Grail,” Yakov said, as if that explained everything. “The legends are true. She is immortal.”
Given that Yakov was the one who had shot her, Turcotte wasn’t feeling too kindly toward the Russian, even though Yakov had done it in a vain attempt to prevent the Grail from being stolen. The Russian was a huge man, standing almost a foot taller than Turcotte. He was a former agent of Section IV, the Russian equivalent of America’s Majestic-12, set up to monitor alien activity on the planet. Both Section IV and Majestic no longer existed, victims of the events of the past year.