The Pharaoh Key

39

THEY LEFT THE encampment via a route they hoped would make it look as if they’d escaped through the fog oasis. Then, at the eastern head of the valley, they turned and climbed a ridge until they were out of sight, at last circling back toward the westward trails leading to the Demon Valley and, ultimately, the treasure chamber. They trotted the camels as fast as they dared over the rugged terrain, the animals’ long strides eating up the ground. The stars were out in all their glory, the moon not yet having risen. Imogen led the way, trailing the camel with the empty packsaddle on it, ready to be filled with treasure. Gideon brought up the rear. There were no hunting parties out. The ravines and ridges were sunken in darkness, the only light the feeblest glow of Jupiter, hanging in the west. But Gideon knew the moon, so recently full, would rise over the mountains in a few hours. For the time being it was a black night, making good cover; the three of them knew the way, while the camels, with their excellent night vision, knew where to put their feet.

They proceeded cautiously and in two hours had reached their objective. Nobody had spoken, and a silence like death reigned in the sunken valley. As they approached the vault door, Gideon saw it lying split on the ground, just as they had left it: two great slabs of stone. There was no sign of anyone else’s presence. The torches they’d used were still propped up against it.

They dismounted, staking the camels in the sand. Gideon led the pack camel to the entrance of the vault and couched it there. He removed the leather bags hung on either side of the packsaddle, as well as the top pack, and opened them, ready to receive the treasure.

Using his fire drill, Garza lit three torches, placing one outside. They proceeded down the long passageway to the treasure chamber, where Garza affixed a second torch to light the corridor, placing the third inside the chamber itself. The feeble firelight glinted off the gold and jewels arrayed in rich splendor around the golden cabinet atop its plinth of stone.

“You take the left side,” Gideon said to Garza, “I’ll take the other. Imogen—”

“I’m not helping you loot,” she interrupted. “I’m going to transcribe the text I found on that tablet.”

“Fair enough.”

“Don’t break anything,” she said. “Be respectful, please. Just take the gold and gems—not the fragile artifacts. And remember: nothing with writing.”

Many of the offerings were heaped in alabaster bowls or contained in desiccated leather sacks and withered baskets. Gideon seized the closest bowl and carried it out into the night, emptying it into one of the panniers. Garza did the same. Back in the chamber, he realized they were only going to be able to take a small fraction of what was there, and that it would be smart to be selective. He picked up a leather sack, untied the brittle strings, which came off in his hands, and looked inside. In the dim light he could see that the sack was bulging with jewels. As he carried it out, however, the sack burst and the stones went skittering and bouncing over the stone floor—gorgeous golden diamonds of that same unique color, flashing with internal flecks of fire. Gideon dropped to his knees, gathering them up and stuffing them into his pocket.

“Forget that shit,” said Garza.

“But these diamonds are—”

“A waste of time! There’s tons more back there.”

Gideon reluctantly abandoned his effort to retrieve the stones. He headed back to the chamber and grabbed another sackful of gems, this time cradling it on the way out before slipping it into one of the panniers.

As they went to and fro, lugging out the loot, Gideon was relieved to see that Garza was working quickly, even eagerly. Just the sight of the stupendous riches in the chamber had chased off his doubts. The heavy gold objects, the gems and semiprecious stones, the jewelry and necklaces and finely inlaid objects, were enough to incite a kind of delirium in them both.

“Don’t take that!” Imogen said sharply, as Garza went to pick up a pair of gold jackals inlaid with lapis.

“Or that!”

Gideon sheepishly put down the golden scarab he was about to stuff into a sack. Imogen, crouching before the open cabinet, was staring at the inscribed stone within and scribbling notes in a notebook fashioned out of old cloth, occasionally barking at one or the other of them not to touch something that—obviously or not—she deemed particularly valuable or unusual. But Gideon didn’t mind: there was so much stuff, such a superabundance of gold, silver, cut and uncut gemstones, that it hardly made a difference. Even after filling the panniers with millions of dollars’ worth of plunder, they were hardly going to scratch the surface of the room’s vast trove. He remembered her incredulous look when she’d first read what was on the tablet, and her allusion to the biblical commandments. But he was too busy now to ask questions—there’d be plenty of time for that later.

As they worked, the sky began to lighten in the east as the moon came up behind the jagged peak of Gebel Umm. As soon as it cleared the top, Gideon knew, it would become almost as light as day in the clear air of the desert. That light would be of great assistance in navigating the unfamiliar westward route through mountains and foothills to the far side of the range. If they pushed hard all the rest of the night, he figured, they would be well outside tribal territory by sunrise and therefore safe from pursuit. Once they reached the Nile, then they would face the additional challenge of smuggling the loot out of Egypt, but in quiet hours he and Garza had worked out what seemed like an almost foolproof scheme.

It was a matter of thirty minutes to fill the two panniers and the burlap top pack to bursting. The thief in Gideon felt rueful that they had taken so little, relatively speaking, and yet his conscience was glad that the vast majority of treasure would remain.

The eastern sky brightened as the moon rose behind the great outline of Gebel Umm. “Let’s pack this on the camel and go,” said Gideon.

“One more bag,” gasped Garza, staggering up the corridor under the weight of an alabaster bowl full of golden necklaces, earrings, and heavy bracelets.

“The pack’s too heavy already,” said Gideon.

“Just this one more,” Garza said, his face glistening with sweat.

Gideon shook his head. “Put it down. We can’t risk laming the camel—then we’d lose everything.”

With a muttered curse Garza left the bowl by the entrance. The two men lifted the heavy panniers full of loot and hooked them, one at a time, on the packsaddle’s metal rings. They hoisted the top pack in place and tied it down carefully with a linen cover. The camel groaned under the weight, its lips drawing back with displeasure, exposing its yellow teeth.

As they were about to mount up, Garza grabbed Gideon’s hand. “Just one thing.”

Gideon turned. “Yes?”

“What we talked about? Back there, in your tent?”

“What about it?”

“All that happened in the encampment—my marriage and the rest of it. Never bring that up again. What we’re leaving behind, stays behind. That’s past. It’s like you said: my new life starts right now, with this treasure. So don’t mention any of that again—to anyone. Ever.”

“You’ve got my word.”

Garza released his hand.

“Where’s Imogen?” Gideon asked.

“Son of a bitch, she said she was coming right out.” They dashed back into the chamber. Imogen was still crouched, notebook open, scribbling like mad with her improvised pencil, wisps of her hair escaping from beneath her head covering.

“Let’s go!”

“Give me a damn moment!”

They waited, Gideon becoming increasingly exasperated. “Come on.”

“I knew this was incredible, but…my God, I can hardly believe…” She mumbled to herself, her fingers flying over the pages as she copied the hieroglyphic symbols.

“Enough.” Garza reached down and took her arm. “Up, up.”

She tried to shake him off but he gently pulled her to her feet.

“Just one more line to copy.”

They waited while she finished sketching a last few hieroglyphics.

“Haul ass!” Garza said, some steel in his voice this time.

They almost had to drag her out of the chamber. Back outside, the limn of the moon was just creeping above the jagged top of Gebel Umm. They climbed onto their camels, the beasts lurching to their feet with the usual roaring and bellowing of complaint. The light of the moon now spilled into the valley, bathing it in a crystalline silver glow, as they turned toward the westward opening in the rock face and urged their camels forward.

Garza suddenly jerked to a stop. “Oh shit.”

Gideon followed his gaze to see, arrayed along the rimrock to the east, bathed in moonlight, a row of warriors astride camels. The massive form of Mugdol was at the fore, sword at his side, spear raised.

“Rash a’urbouji!” he yelled, stabbing the air with the spear as he whipped his camel into a gallop along the ridge, heading toward the trail into the valley, followed by his howling mob of warriors.