DeGard had shuffled over to the opening in the wall and was shining his light into the dark area beyond. “It looks like the passage goes to the left up ahead.” There was an eagerness in his voice. Greed had begun to take over, and he was obviously anxious to reap his reward.
“Lead the way,” Lindsey ordered.
The Frenchman’s eyes narrowed slightly. “How do you know it is safe? I, for one, do not feel like dying down here as the result of some ancient booby trap? Perhaps we should get one of your helpers to go first, just in case.”
“Very well, get out of my way.” Lindsey nudged passed a surprised DeGard and wedged through the portal.
He held his light at shoulder height and investigated the walls and floor as he moved, carefully mindful of the words his hired professor had uttered. While he doubted that there would be anything like that in the tunnel, he didn’t want to die underground either, so he proceeded with caution. DeGard’s flashlight cast a little more illumination to the passageway that was otherwise pitch dark. The two turned left as the path led and they found themselves walking another twenty feet before the floor began to slope downward.
Lindsey shone his light down the sloping corridor, and couldn’t see the bottom. “How far down do you think it goes?” he asked, pointedly.
DeGard raised his eyebrows. “I have no idea. As you American’s say, there is only one way to find out.” Made braver by the older man’s courage, the Frenchman set out trudging down the long tunnel with renewed vigor.
The slanted corridor took them a hundred feet down before coming a stop and continuing on a little further to the right. When they shone their lights into the new direction their eyes caught a glimpse of some objects on the floor. What the pale glow of the flashlights revealed was a treasure of astonishing measure. Three, three foot wide and five foot long chests, full of gold coins, chalices, crowns, necklaces, bracelets, and jewels lined the walls. DeGard’s face lit up as he led the way into the rectangular room. The chamber was only twenty to thirty feet long and about twelve feet wide. The Frenchman stepped quickly across the threshold and dug his hands deep into the first chest.
“I cannot believe it, Monsieur Lindsey.” He looked back at the older man who seemed to be ignoring the treasure chests. His eyes were focused on something at the end of the room.
Lindsey eased past his elated partner and moved towards the back of the chamber.
DeGard kept yammering as Lindsey stopped at the end wall. “You know, I thought I could perhaps help you find something. But I had no idea it would be this easy. Honestly, I almost feel guilty taking such a high percentage of this find. Well, almost.” He let a necklace slip through his hands as he realized his employer did not seem interested in the fortune they’d just discovered.
On the wall directly in front of Lindsey were inscriptions, carved into the stone. “What does this say?”
DeGard reluctantly left the treasure at his feet and shuffled over to where Lindsey stood with arms crossed. He produced a pair of brown spectacles from his jacket and placed them on the tip of his nose.
“This is the oldest form of Hebrew we know of. It dates back to before the time of the earliest Egyptian communities.”
“What does it say?” Lindsey persisted.
The Frenchman ran a finger along the engravings. His lips moved silently as he translated the symbols. Finally, he reached the bottom and removed his glasses. He kept his flashlight on the wall as he spoke.
“It is a story about three brothers,” he began. “Their family had been on an incredible journey and settled in a valley just outside of some mountains. One day, the boys’ father drank too much wine and became drunk. The father ripped off his clothes and was dancing around in his tent, naked. It seems one of the sons discovered him and started laughing. The other two saw what was going on and clothed their father. When the old man awoke, he knew what had happened and cursed his youngest son’s child. In the curse, he said that his grandson would be a servant to all his brothers forever. Then it goes on to talk about the three treasure chests, a curse, and a reward.’
Lindsey’s eyes were wide. “I know this story.”
“You do?” DeGard was surprised.
“Of course. It is from the Old Testament of the Bible. It is the story of Noah and his three sons.”
DeGard nodded in agreement. “But what is that story doing here, in southern Egypt?”
Lindsey turned his head and shone the flashlight onto the three chests. “What did it say about these? You said it mentioned them and a reward.”
“Oui,” he agreed in French. “It reads that the curse will be on the other two brothers and that his son will be blessed with the wealth of the father.”
Lindsey was perplexed. All three chests looked the same. They each contained similar treasures, and were crafted in an identical fashion. DeGard slid past his employer and squatted down on one knee, shining his light on one chest and then the next.
“Do you see something?” Lindsey asked impatiently.
“Perhaps,” DeGard cocked his head to the side in the briefest of seconds. “There are some unusual markings on the front of each chest.”
“Can you decipher them?”
DeGard twisted his head around, “Of course, Monsieur, I already have.” A shady grin crept onto the right side of his face. “They are the names of the three brothers. It would appear that if we move the correct chest, we will find an even greater treasure than this.”
“You said the wealth of the father would be there for the cursed son. Ham was the one who defiled his father’s presence. Noah cursed him. Which one is Ham’s?”
“There isn’t one,” DeGard informed in a matter-0f-fact tone.
“What do you mean there isn’t one?” Lindsey spat. “There has to be. One for each of the three brothers, the sons of Noah: Shem, Ham, and Japheth.”
“Yes, I am aware of that. But we are not looking for the name of Ham. We are looking for the name if his son, Canaan, which is the one on the end.” He made his point with a jab of the finger.
Lindsey looked over at the stone box filled with precious metal and jewels. “Of course,” he gasped. “Noah didn’t curse Ham. He cursed Canaan, his own grandson, to a life of servitude.” The older man knelt down before the chest and ran his finger across the strange inscription on the front. “Ham wouldn’t have it, though. He wouldn’t let his son be a servant to anyone.” Lindsey cut himself off, wary he would say too much. DeGard didn’t seem to pay any attention.
“How are we going to move that thing?” he asked in a snooty tone that suggested he wouldn’t be doing any lifting.
“Not to worry,” Lindsey ignored the man’s lazy attitude. “We have help.”
Several minutes later, a few of the men they’d brought entered the chamber carrying crowbars. Kaba was right behind them. “We need you to move this chest away from the wall,” Lindsey said.
Kaba gave the order in Arabic and the two dark-skinned men immediately obeyed. They wedged their tools between the wall and the heavy chest then pushed back. The box moved slightly, grinding on the stone of the floor as it did. The men continued to leverage their weight for a few minutes until a hole, nearly the same size as the box, had been revealed in the floor.
The men stepped back and Kaba moved forward. “Would you like me to go first?” she asked without hesitation.
Lindsey nodded and she quickly dropped down on her knees and stuck her head and a flashlight into the cavity. She swung her legs around and dropped into the darkness with the deftness of a gymnast. The men stood over the recession, looking down as her light flashed around under the floor. A moment later, her face appeared as they shone their lights into the hole.