“Come, come, now, if you know so much, you must know more. Tell us what will befall us if we enter the tomb. Will we be struck down by a plague? Or will we meet with a terrible accident perhaps? Or will some afrit of the air whirl us away, or some water demon deluge us with a flood?”
Saeed translated, then translated the man’s reply: “These things are not a fit subject for laughing. The magician will take his revenge.”
“And how much money would persuade the men that it is worth braving the magician’s wrath?” asked Sir Matthew.
Saeed consulted with them.
“They would need much money, they say. They will be risking their lives and leaving their families destitute if the curse falls upon them. This is a very bad place, they say.”
As the haggling continued, Edward impatiently sprang from his camel and unfastened a spade.
“If you wish to see anything before sunset, or indeed before next week’s sunset, you might care to come with me,” he said to his cousins, then waded through the sand to the top of the exposed steps.
Elizabeth and Darcy followed him, curious to see what had been found. There were five steps uncovered, with piles of sand beside them.
Edward began to dig, and Darcy, returning to the camel for another spade, joined him.
Edward gave a lopsided grin.
“I knew you had the family obsession inside you somewhere,” he said. “Admit it; it is exciting.”
“It might be exciting, depending on what we uncover,” said Darcy.
“Well, that is a start,” said Edward.
As Elizabeth watched them, she felt her own excitement stirring. The steps were beautifully preserved, and as the two men dug deeper, more were uncovered, until at last Edward gave a cry.
“A door!”
Elizabeth ran down the steps and saw what had given rise to the cry. Climbing up from the bottommost step were two stone columns: doorposts.
Edward began to dig again and then, suddenly throwing down his spade, he hurried over to the workmen, who were still arguing and haggling for more money.
“Decide,” he said curtly, speaking to the men in their own language. “Either start digging, or start walking. I have no use for men who will not work.”
“The magician—”
“I know all about the magician and his curse,” said Edward. “Either take my money and brave the curse, or go home empty-handed. I will not have idle men on my dig.”
“Effendi—”
“Choose,” said Edward, in a tone that brooked no dissent.
There were a few more protests that the magician would appear and curse them all with a plague, but they were no more than halfhearted gestures, and before long it had all been resolved to everyone’s satisfaction. The fellahs had almost doubled their pay, and Edward had a small army to dig for him.
Work proceeded quickly. Sand was carried away in large baskets by the donkeys, and a palisade of palm wood was erected to prevent the sides falling back into the hole. As the doorway was gradually revealed, the sand around it was drenched with water from the Nile so that the sand would remain firm. The doorposts were decorated with hieroglyphs—“Powerful spells, effendi”—and between them stood an unbroken door.
“The seal is intact,” said Edward reverently. “We have found it.”
“There speaks the voice of inexperience,” said Sir Matthew dryly. “All the evidence points to this being a false entrance. There are only eight steps leading down to the door, and it would be more usual to find fifteen or sixteen steps, placing the tomb much deeper underground.”
But Edward was obstinate, saying, “This is Aahotep’s tomb; I know it.”
“If the stories are correct—and I will admit there is no reason why they should be—but if they are, then the tomb you are searching for is not the tomb of Aahotep but the tomb of the lovers she murdered,” Sir Matthew corrected him.
One of the men murmured and Saeed translated, “A tomb protected by a mighty magician, hired by the lovers’ families to guard them in death. Its desecration will bring down the wrath of the magician on our heads.”
“We are not going to desecrate it,” said Edward. “We are going to give Aahotep a chance to make amends.”
They looked at him in surprise, and Edward looked surprised himself, then said, “By showing us the treasures, of course!”
“And what, might I ask, do you intend to do with the treasures?” Sir Matthew asked.
“Display them, so that the world at large might see them,” said Edward.
“The world at large, or private collectors who are willing to pay handsomely for them?” enquired Sir Matthew.
But Edward was not listening. He was examining the hieroglyphs on the doors, brushing off the clinging sand with his fingers and revealing the intensity of the bright blues and reds and yellows. The beautiful and exotic markings were so brilliantly coloured that they might have been painted the previous day, not thousands of years before.
“Look!” he said. “The lovers are here! Their names are in the cartouches.”
Elizabeth saw that Sir Matthew was not convinced, despite the presence of the names. Nevertheless, he waved Edward aside and set about making a small hole in the top corner of the door.
“Is it not easier to break the seal?” asked Darcy.
“I want to discover if the passage beyond is blocked. It will help me decide how we should open the door,” Sir Matthew explained.
He gave a last chip with the chisel and broke a small hole in the plaster.
A murmur went up from the fellahs, who stumbled back as if expecting a djinn to appear through the hole and whirl them away on a cyclone or burn them in a geyser of flame. But when nothing happened they took courage and pressed forward again.
Sir Matthew lit a flambeau and by its light he peered through the hole.
“Well?” demanded Edward.
“The passage behind the door is not blocked,” said Sir Matthew.
“Then we will soon be inside,” said Edward.
“You misunderstand,” said Sir Matthew.
But Edward was not listening. He was already moving his hands toward the seal. Sir Matthew intervened, breaking it with care, and before long they were through. The stale air emanating from the gaping maw was enough to convince them that the door had not been opened recently, and indeed it smelled as if it had been there since the tomb was built.
Sir Matthew put a hand on Edward’s arm and advised caution, saying, “The supposedly magical plagues which affect archaeologists are often no more than natural illnesses brought about by the foul air inside these places. I suggest we withdraw to a convenient distance and take some food while the fellahs make the entrance safe, then rest over the heat of the day and return when the air grows cooler. We will post a guard to see that nothing is disturbed.”
“And will you trust your guard?” asked Elizabeth curiously.
“I will trust my own eyes, for I will not be so far away that I cannot see what goes on,” said Sir Matthew.
This plan was agreed upon. Edward could hardly eat for excitement and three times suggested that the time had come for them to return, only giving way to the opinion of others with the greatest reluctance. He paced about, full of restless energy, while the others rested.
“You do not seem very excited,” said Elizabeth to Sir Matthew, who ate without haste and with an air of calm. “Do you not think we have discovered the tomb?”
“No. As I tried to explain to your young cousin, the corridor behind the door is empty. If the tomb was of any importance then I would have expected it to be blocked with stones and rubble, in an effort to keep intruders out. I think what we have here is a false tomb, a small underground chamber designed to confuse grave robbers and make them give up in disgust.”