“Looks almost idyllic,” said Imogen, pausing to survey the scene.
“You know, despite all our troubles and misunderstandings, these are good people. They’re just trying to protect their way of life.”
“How quickly you forget they almost killed us—twice.”
“I haven’t forgotten.” Gideon shifted the kid from one shoulder to the other. “Feel like barbecued kid tonight?”
“With a spicy rub? I’m famished.”
They proceeded through the settlement to their new tent, which stood on a small rise, with other larger tents and greater distances between them. As they passed through, their kid aroused interest, and they received smiles and gestures of congratulations. A baby goat was considered a true delicacy.
Arriving at their tent, Gideon hung the kid on a tripod fashioned out of branches, skinned it with his stone dagger, and cut off the head and feet. As he worked, Imogen built a fire from a pile of desert hardwood that was stacked beside their tent. Their new quarters had, it seemed, been provided with all the necessities: in addition to wood for fuel, there were a variety of crude implements and utensils, a water barrel, cooking spices, a greenwood roasting pole with forked supports, extra skins for blankets, and their own camel saddles.
When the carcass was dressed and seasoned from the bags of spices, Gideon affixed it to the roasting pole and set it above the bed of coals. He turned the kid from time to time, the meat sizzling and giving off a heavenly aroma.
“I can’t wait to get inside that tomb,” said Imogen as she came up, her eyes shining.
“I was thinking the same thing. I was also thinking about the old crone’s warning.”
“You mean, about the forbidden path and the demon leopards?”
“Yup. Do you suppose that’s just a story to keep curious tribesmen away?”
“It’s possible. In fact, it’s probable. Somebody has to know about it. It may well be a secret, known only to the priests and the chief. Or maybe just Lillaya. I mean, look at her critical role in the tribe—higher even than the priests. She might be the living repository of their cultural history, their sacred knowledge.”
Gideon gave the kid another turn. “Sounds like an old H. Rider Haggard novel. You know, with that crone descended from a long line of priestesses, all sworn to guard and protect the sacred tomb.”
“It’s not as unlikely as you might think.” Imogen stared into the fire. “How else can you explain its still being intact? Did you know that only one pharaoh’s tomb has ever been found unlooted—and that just happened to belong to someone named Tutankhamen?” She let out a sigh. “He was just a second-tier teenage king. Imagine what this might contain.”
Gideon basted the kid with drippings. “Any idea which pharaoh?”
“It’s strange that an important tomb would be so far removed from the Valley of the Kings or the other ancient tomb fields. If I had to guess, I’d say it might be connected to the heretic Pharaoh Akhenaten.”
“Heretic?”
“Yes.” She squatted beside him. “Akhenaten, as I explained, tried to impose monotheism on Egypt. But after he died, the people revolted and restored the many ancient gods. They smashed his monuments and statues and chiseled his name from inscriptions. Forever after they referred to him not by name, but as ‘that criminal.’ Scholars have never identified his tomb for certain.”
“So it’s possible Akhenaten’s followers hid his tomb way out here to protect it.”
“It’s certainly a possibility. Remember, during his life Ahkenaten was incredibly powerful. His queen was Nefertiti, and he was probably King Tut’s father. If this really is his undisturbed tomb, it would be the biggest discovery in Egypt since the Rosetta Stone.”
“So why record its location on the Phaistos Disk and send it to Crete?”
She shook her head. “Hard to know. Maybe his followers created a bunch of those disks and secretly distributed them to like-minded followers around the ancient world, so the location would never be forgotten.”
Gideon turned the goat again and used his dagger to cut into it. A dribble of clear juices fell sizzling into the fire. “Looks done.”
“Perfect timing!” Garza’s voice came from the darkness as he stepped into the firelight. He rubbed his hands together. “Damn, I’m hungry.”
“Sure you’ve got enough energy left to eat?” Gideon asked.
“Where’s Jelena?” Imogen asked.
Garza flushed. Then he grinned. “Sleeping.” He glanced at the fire, clearly eager to change the subject. “So where’d you get the goat?”
“I shot it,” said Gideon, with no little pride. “The chief gave each of us a crossbow as a gift. Knockoffs of your, ah, present to him.”
“I saw the one outside my tent. Well done.”
Imogen passed around clay plates while Gideon hacked off cuts of meat and served them. He caught Imogen’s eye. It has to be said, he realized; there’s no point hemming and hawing.
He looked over. “Manuel?”
“Mmm?” Garza responded, biting into a haunch.
“We went to the Phaistos location today.”
Garza paused, then put down the cut, looking from Gideon to Imogen and back. “You…told her?”
“Yes. I felt it was about time.”
Garza flushed again, this time from anger rather than embarrassment. “We had an agreement!” he said loudly, then—looking around the encampment—lowered his voice. “All we’ve been through, and you didn’t even have the decency to ask me first?”
“You’re the one who wouldn’t come out of your tent this morning—remember?”
“That’s got nothing to do with it! Whatever’s there is ours. We risked our lives for it several times over: remember that?”
“Of course. And who saved us, most of those times?”
Abruptly, Imogen cut in. “Don’t throw a wobbly,” she told Garza. “I’m not interested in whatever’s inside that tomb. Not in any treasure you’d understand, at least.” She paused. “I’d have thought by now you’d come to trust me.”
There was a long silence. And then, to Gideon’s surprise, the expression on Garza’s face softened. “Fair enough,” he said. “But I hope you don’t blame me for being suspicious.” He held out his hand. “Friends?”
“Friends,” she said, taking it.
There was a brief, slightly awkward silence while the three ate their dinner.
Glancing furtively over his shoulder, Garza leaned in toward them. “For God’s sake,” he murmured, “what did you find?”
“Under the guise of a hunting trip, we headed west and found this spot where three canyons come together in a valley, surrounded by cliffs—just as we’d hoped. Set into the far cliff was a large stone door. It was set with lead seals—unbroken. Embossed in hieroglyphics.”
Even in the firelight, Garza’s face lit up with excitement. “And?”
“We just saw it at a distance. It was getting dark.”
“But it’s a tomb?”
“We think so,” Imogen said. “An important one.”
“A pharaoh?”
“Probably.”
“Christ. When do we go back?”
Gideon leaned forward, too. “It’s only five miles or so, but we have to be very carefuclass="underline" the path to the tomb is rough and, on top of that, forbidden. They say it’s because of the demons that live there, but I think that may be just to keep people away. We figure at least some of the tribe must know about the tomb. It’s likely they’ve been guarding it for centuries.”