Curse of the Kings

X Within the Tomb

How quiet the palace seemed. How long would the conference go on? There was no one about. I might have tried to find Tabitha, but I had no desire to confide in her for I no longer trusted her. I no longer knew whom to trust.

I went to my favorite seat on the terrace and as I sat there I saw someone coming up the steps towards me. To my surprise it was Leopold Harding.

"I thought you had gone," I said.

"No, there was a slight hitch. Business, you know. I have just come from the hotel. I have a message from your husband."

I stood up. "He wants me to go there?"

"No. He wants you to meet him at the site."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. At once. He has gone on."

"Then the conference is over."

"I don't know, but he asked me to give you this message as I had a few hours to spare before leaving."

"Did he say where at the site?"

"He told me exactly. I said I would take you there."

"But where was it?"

"It's better if I show you."

I picked up my hat which was on the seat beside me and without which I never went out.

I said: "I'm ready. I'll come now."

He was already leading the way out to the river. We took one of the boats and went to the site.

The Valley looked grim under the glare of the late afternoon sun. In spite of the windlessness there always seemed to be a fine dust in the air.

The place seemed deserted because the men were not working today. I had understood from Tybalt that they were awaiting the outcome of the conference.

We came to the opening in the hillside which was the way into the tomb, but to my surprise Leopold led me past that.

"But surely," I began.

"No," he said. "I am quite sure. I was here yesterday and your husband was showing me something. It is here . . ."

He led me into what looked like a natural cave but which could well have been hollowed out. To my amazement there was a hole in the side of this cave.

He said: "Let me help you through here."

"Are you sure?" I began. "I have never been here before."

"No. Your husband has just discovered that it is here."

"But what is this hole?"

"You will see. Give me your hand."

I stepped through and was surprised to find myself at the top of a flight of steps.

"If you will let me help you, we will descend these stairs."

"Is Tybalt here then?"

"You will see. There are lanterns here. I will light them and then we can have one each."

"It seems strange," I said, "that you, who are a stranger here . . ."

He smiled. 'Well, Lady Travers, I have explored a little. Your husband has been very kind to me."

"They knew of this place then. Is it connected with the tomb?"

"Oh yes, but I don't think it was considered worth exploring until now." He handed me a lantern and I could see steps which had been cut out of the earth. They turned and there facing us was a door. It was half open.

"There," said Leopold Harding as we went through. "This is the spot. I'll go ahead, shall I?"

Tybalt had never mentioned this place to me. It must be a new discovery. But then lately I had been aloof. I was not able to prevent myself being so; for while I could not bring myself to talk of my suspicions, at the same time I could not behave as though they did not exist.

We were in a small chamber not more than eight feet in height. I saw that there was an opening ahead and I went towards this. I looked up and saw three or four steps.

I mounted these and called: "Tybalt, I'm here."

I was in another chamber; this one was larger than the other. It was very cold.

The first shadow of alarm touched me. "Tybalt," I called. My voice sounded rather shrill.

I said: "There is nobody here?"

I looked over my shoulder. I was alone.

I said: "Mr. Harding, I think there's been a mistake. Tybalt isn't here."

There was no answer. I started down the steps. I went back to the smaller chamber. Leopold Harding was not there either.

I went back to the opening. It was completely dark because the door was shut.

I called: "Mr. Harding. Where are you?"

There was no reply.

I went to the door. I could see no handle, no bolt . . . nothing with which to open it. I pushed it. I tried to pull it. But it remained fast shut.

"Where are you? Mr. Harding, where are you?"

No answer. Only the hollow sound of my own voice.

I knew then what it meant to have one's flesh creep. It was as though thousands of ants were crawling over me. I knew that my hair had risen on my scalp. The awful realization had come to me. I was alone and only Mr. Harding knew I was here.

Why? Who was he? Why should he do this? My imagination was running wild again. It was so senseless. He had stepped outside for a moment. He would come back. Why should a tourist, an acquaintance merely, shut me in a tomb?

I tried to be calm. I lifted the lantern and looked about me ... at the steps cut out of the earth, at the earth walls of the little chamber. Tybalt must be here. He would come out in a moment.

Then I remembered my suspicions of Tybalt. Could it be that he had had me brought here to ... to rid himself of me. But why did he send Leopold Harding to bring me here? Who was Leopold Harding? Why did Tybalt not bring me himself? Because he did not wish to be seen coming here with me? When I did not return . . .

Oh, this was folly. This was madness.

To be shut in a tomb alone could drive one mad.

I set down the lantern and banged my fists on the door. It did not give. How was it shut? How had it opened? All Leopold Harding had appeared to do was to push it and we stepped inside. It was as easy as that. And now it was fast shut and I was on the wrong side of it.

He must be hiding to tease me. What a foolish trick. I remembered myself suddenly rising from the sarcophagus in Giza House. I could almost hear Theodosia's shrieks.

"Oh God, let somebody come. Don't let me be alone in this place."

Tybalt must be here somewhere. It was better to look, to assure myself before I allowed this creeping terror to take a grip on me.

I picked up the lantern and walked resolutely towards the steps. I descended them and was in the larger chamber. I must explore this. There might be a way out here. Tybalt might be somewhere beyond, waiting for Leopold to bring me to him.

I held my lantern high and examined the walls of the chamber; there was no decoration on them, but I saw that there was an opening. I went through this and was in a corridor.

"Tybalt," I called. "Are you there, Tybalt?"

No answer.

I lifted my lantern. I saw that these walls had been decorated. Rows of vultures were depicted there, their wings stretched as though they hovered. Now I had reached yet another chamber. I examined it with care. There seemed to be no outlet from this one. I had come to the end of my exploration; and there was no one here.

I felt my legs trembling and I sank down onto the floor. Now I knew a fear that I had never known before. I had been brought here for some purpose. All the warnings I had received, all the premonitions, they had some meaning. I should have heeded them.

But why should Leopold Harding wish to trick me? Why had he lied to me? I remembered coming out of the Temple and running straight into that man. He had been the one who had stalked me there. He had meant to kill me. Oh, but this was a better ideal

Had Tybalt ordered him to do this, and who was he that he must take his orders from Tybalt?

I was sure something moved overhead. Something was looking down at me. I held up the lantern.

On the ceiling had been carved a great bat with enormous wings. Its eyes were some sort of obsidian and the light of the lantern catching them had made them seem alive.

I fancied I could hear the soothsayer's voice: "The bat is hovering, waiting to descend."

I stared up at it, hideous, malevolent; and I said to myself: "What is to become of me? What does it mean? Why have I been brought here?"

I was cold. Or was it fear that made me shiver so violently that I could not keep still? My teeth chattered . . . an unearthly sound.

I could not bring myself to stand up and go back. I was fascinated by that hideous bat on the ceiling of the chamber.

Now I could make out drawings on the walls. There was a Pharaoh offering a sacrifice to one of the gods. Was it Hathor the Goddess of Love? It must be because there she was again and her face was that of a cow, and I knew the cow was her emblem.

I was so cold. I must move. I stood up unsteadily. I examined the walls. There might be a way out of this place. There must be a way out. Now I could see the drawings of the walls more clearly. There were pictures of ships and men tied upside down on their prows. Prisoners I remembered. And with them were men without one or more limbs. And there was the crocodile who had maimed them, sly, ugly, with a necklace about his neck and earrings hanging from his ears.

Where was I? At the entrance to a tomb? Then if I was at the entrance it must lead on. Somewhere ahead perhaps was a burial chamber and in it the stone sarcophagus and inside the sarcophagus the mummy.

One can grow accustomed to anything, even fear. Fear was creeping up on me and yet I felt calmer than I had at the first realization that I was alone in this gruesome place.

I walked a few paces. If there was a way out of this chamber . . . but to what would it lead . . . only to a long dead mummy. What I needed was a way out into the open, the fresh air.

I thought: There is little air in here. I shall use what there is in a short time. I shall die; and I shall lie here forever until some archaeologist decides to explore this place just in case it leads to a great discovery; and his discovery will be my dead body.

"Nonsense," I said as I had said so many times to Theodosia, "there must be something I can do."

The very thought inspired me with courage. I would not sit here quietly and wait for death. I would find the way out if it was to be found.

I picked up the lantern. I examined the walls again. I now saw some significance in the wall drawings. This was meant to depict the progress of a soul along the river Tuat. There was the boat on a sea from which rose hideous sea monsters, snakes with double heads, waves which enveloped the vessel; but above was the God Osiris, God of the Underworld and Judge of the Dead. This meant that he was giving his protection to the traveler in the boat and he would conduct him through the turbulent seas of the Tuat to the Kingdom of Amen Ra.

There was an opening in the wall. My heart leaped with hope. Then I saw that it was merely an alcove, similar in size to that one in which Yasmin and her lover had lain together.

As I examined it my foot touched something. I was startled and immediately thought of some of the horrible creatures I had seen rising from the river Tuat. I stooped and looked down. What I saw was not a hideous serpent but a gleaming object.

A matchbox! A small, gold box. What a strange thing to find in such a place. It was no antique piece. It belonged to this century. I turned it over in my hand and I saw the name engraved on it: E. Trovers.

Sir Edward's matchbox! Then he had been here!

I felt dizzy with this discovery. My incarceration was already having its effect. I could not think clearly. Sir Edward had been here at some time. What if it was the night when he had died? Had he died because he had been here? But he had gone back to the palace. He had told no one what he had seen, but Tybalt knew he had found something, something which excited him. Then he had eaten something which had been prepared for him. Who prepared his food? Mustapha and Absalam—those two who were branded with the Jackal, servants of the Pasha.

Sir Edward had been murdered. I was certain of that. And he had been murdered because he had been here. It would have been at the orders of the Pasha, who had ordained that he should die just as he had commanded that Yasmin be killed and thrown into the river and that there should be an accident at the bridge which would show that the Curse was in force.

The Pasha wanted to drive us away; he wanted our expedition to end in failure. Why? Because there was something which he did not want us to discover. If the Pasha's interest in archaeology really existed, why should he be ready to kill rather than allow discoveries to be made.

Because he wished to make them?

In my present state of fear and panic memories of the past seemed clearer than they normally were. I recalled vividly the Pasha's plump face, his shaking jowls, his lips greasy from the food he was eating. He had looked sly as he murmured: "There is a legend that my family founded its fortune on robbing tombs."

Could it possibly be that he continued to build up his fortune in this illegal way?

If that was so he would not be very friendly towards archaeologists who might expose him. Was that why he offered his palace, why his servants waited on us, why they had orders to frighten us away?

I knew that that was the answer.

But it did not answer the pressing question: Why was it necessary to bring me here?

I thought, Leopold Harding is another of his servants. In the papers they will be reading: Wife of archaeologist disappears. Lady Travers, wife of Sir Tybalt, left the palace where the party of archaeologists are lodged and has not been seen for two days . . . three days ... a week ... a month. She can only be presumed dead. How was she spirited away? This is another instance of the Curse of the Kings. It will be remembered that a few months ago the wife of one of the archaeologists suffered a fatal accident.

I could see Dorcas reading that. Alison with her. I could see their blank, miserable faces. They would be truly heartbroken.

It must not be. I must find a way out of it.

I clutched Sir Edward's golden matchbox as though it were a talisman.

Darkness! Was the lantern growing dim? What should I do when the oil ran out? Should I be dead by then?

How long could one survive in an atmosphere such as this?

My feet were numb. With fear or cold I could not know. Above me the eyes of the great bat glittered . . . waiting . . . waiting to descend.

"Oh God," I prayed, "help me. Show me what to do. Let Tybalt come and find me. Let it be that he wants me to live, not to die."

Then I thought, when we are in need of help why do we always tell God what to do? If it is His will I will come out of this place alive—and only then.

I think I was a little delirious. I thought I heard footsteps. But it was only the beating of my own heart which was like hammer strokes in my ears.

I talked aloud. "Oh, Tybalt, miss me. Search for me. You will find me if you do. You will find that door. Why should there be such a door? Something will lead you to me. If you want to find me . . . desperately . . . you must. But do you want to find me? Was it by your order? No ... I don't believe that. I won't believe that!"

I could see the old church now with the tower and the gravestones tottering over some of them. "You can't read what's on them." That sounded like Alison's voice. "I think that they should be removed . . . but you can't disturb the dead . . ."

"You can't disturb the dead. You can't disturb the dead." It was as though a thousand voices were chanting that. And there was the boat all round me and the sea was boiling like the water in the big black saucepan that used to be on the kitchen fire at the rectory when Dorcas or Alison was making Irish stew or boiling the Christmas puddings.

This was delirium. I was aware of it, but I welcomed it. It took me away from this dark and fearsome place. It took me back to the schoolroom where I teased the others; it took me to the graveyard where old Pegger was digging a grave.

"And who's that for, Mr. Pegger?"

"It be for you, Miss Judith. You was always a meddler and now look where it 'as brought you ... to the grave ... to the tomb . . ."

There were the echoing voices again. "To the tomb," and I was back in this cold place of death and terror.

"Oh God, help me. Let Tybalt find me. Let him love me. Let it have been a mistake. . . ."

"There's a wedding at the church," said Dorcas. "You must come with us, Judith. Here is a handful of rice. Be careful how you throw it."

And there they were coming down the aisle, married by the Reverend James Osmond. Tybalt and Tabitha . . .

"No!" I cried; and I was back again in the tomb.

My limbs were stiff. I tried to get up. I would try to get out.

As I stood I kicked something. It was the matchbox which I had dropped. I stopped to pick it up; as I did so the wall seemed to move.

I'm imagining something; I told myself. I'm delirious. In a moment I shall be opening the door of my bedroom at the rectory.

The door did open. I fell against it. I was in a dark passage, facing another door.

Some impulse made me bang on this door.

The small hope which had come to me brought back with it panic because I realized full well what was happening to me then in a flash of clarity. I was trapped. I had been led here and the purpose could only be to kill me. I was losing my strength. The lantern would not remain alight forever. And I could not get out.

I kicked the door. I tried to open it. But it did not move.

I sank down beside it. But at least the door which led to the chamber was open and might that let in more air?

I stumbled along the passage. It was short and came to an abrupt end. It was nothing that I had discovered; only another blind alley. I went back and kicked at the door in fury. And then I sank down and covered my face with my hands.

There was nothing I could do ... nothing but wait for death.

I lost consciousness. I was sitting in the half open doorway and in the chamber beyond the great bat was waiting.

How long? I wondered.

The light of the lantern was growing fainter. It would go out at any moment.

When the darkness came what should I do?

I would be frightened perhaps because then I should not be able to see anything at all, not even the eyes of the bat in the ceiling.

In sudden panic I rose again. I stumbled to that door. I cried: "Help me. Help me. God, Allah, Osiris . . . anyone . . . help me."

I was half sobbing, half laughing and I kicked and kicked with all the strength of which I was capable.

And then . . . the miracle happened. There was an answer.

Knock, knock, on the other side of that blessed door.

With all my strength I knocked back.

There was the answering knock. Now I could hear noises beyond that wall. Someone knew I was here. Someone was coming to me.

I sank back. While I could hear that blessed noise I knew they were coming. It increased. The door trembled. I sat back watching it, the tears falling down my cheeks, the babble of words on my lips.

"Tybalt is coming. He has found me. I shall be free . . ."

I was happy. Had I ever known such exaltation? Only when one is about to lose it does one realize how sweet life is.

The lantern was flickering. Never mind. They are coming. The door is moving.

Soon now.

Then I was no longer alone. I was caught up.

"Judith . . ."

It was Tybalt, as I had known it would be. He was holding me in his arms and I thought: I did not die of fear, but I shall die of bliss.

"My love," he said. "Judith, my love."

"It's all right, Tybalt," I said, comforting him. "It's all right . . '. now . . ."