Amanda Grange & Jacqueline Webb (22 page)

“And what of you, Edward?” asked Elizabeth, as they progressed through the vast space, their voices echoing as though they were in a cathedral and their flambeaux flickering fitfully, shedding dancing light on the painted walls. She fell back a little and put a hand on his arm to detain him so that the others should not hear. “You must take care how you treat Sophie, you know. She has been badly hurt in the past and the time is coming when you must make your intentions plain. Before, when there was no question of a marriage between you, it was different, but now you are in a position to take a wife and you must not lead her on if your feelings are not serious.”

“I mean to marry her, or at least to ask her if she will have me,” he said with a quick glance at Paul, who was some way behind them. “You know her, Elizabeth. Do you think she will say yes?”

Elizabeth hesitated, and Edward was quick to notice it.

“So she has not made up her mind,” he said.

“She has never been asked to,” Elizabeth reminded him. “You have been obsessed with other things.”

“Yes.” He passed his hand over his eyes. “Obsessed. That is how it feels. As if there are times when I can see nothing, hear nothing, think of nothing but the tomb. And yet I love Sophie—”

“You love her?” asked Elizabeth.

“Yes, I love her. More than anything else in the world, I want to make her my wife.”

“Then you had better let her know your feelings. You are not the only young man on the expedition, and if she feels you are not serious, then you may lose her to another young man who is.”

“You are right,” said Edward, looking at Paul, who was talking to Sophie. “Curse him—oh, I had better not say that here. I do not mean it!” he said to the empty space. “I do not wish any harm to come to him, only that he will not steal my treasure away from me.”

They passed the model of a boat they had seen the day before—“To transport the lovers in the afterlife,” he said—and when they moved on, they found several casks which were locked and too heavy to move. On the casks were cartouches, and inside the cartouches were the names, in hieroglyphs, of Ammon and Husn.

“I knew it,” muttered Edward. “I knew we would find it.”

And suddenly his eyes gained a glazed look, and he spoke of Sophie no more.

He hurried on and Elizabeth had to remind him that at any moment the moat would open up beneath their feet.

“You are right,” he said, moving more slowly and holding his flambeau so that the flames showed the floor until at last he stood at the side of the pit.

“I wonder how many men have fallen here,” mused Darcy, raising his flambeaux to show the glittering treasures on the other side. “With their eyes fixed on the gold and jewels, they would not have noticed the moat until it was too late and fallen to their deaths.”

It was a sobering thought.

“We must go forward carefully,” said Darcy, addressing his flushed cousin. “There is no telling what other traps lie in store for us.”

The men set about laying the palm planks across the moat to create a bridge, and when it was done Edward set one foot warily on it. The plank creaked and sprang a little under his weight but otherwise seemed safe enough.

He edged his way across and at last reached the other side.

“It is even more magnificent than we realised!” he said. “There is another door at the far side of the room. I believe there is another chamber.”

“I think you had better stay here,” said Darcy to Elizabeth. “The plank is very narrow and—”

But she had already hitched up the corner of her skirt and was edging her way across the plank.

“It is as Edward says,” she called back. “I believe we have only scratched the surface of the tomb. It is a wonderful find. Edward's name will be on everyone's lips when we return home.”

Darcy quickly followed, with Paul helping Sophie, and they gazed in awe at the treasure trove in which they found themselves. Everywhere they looked there was the glint of gold. There were statues of people and animals—“Anubis!” exclaimed Paul, going over to a statue of the jackal-headed god and examining it in awe; golden hawks—“made of wood and covered in thick gold leaf,” Edward said, upon examining them; a young Egyptian man with a spear—“hunting hippos, most likely;” and the figure of a young man being reborn from a blue lotus—“the symbol of rebirth.” There were urns and vases, and over the walls were pictures of a lithe young man, engaged in his everyday activities as well as a young woman in a variety of poses.

“Ammon and Husn,” said Elizabeth.

“Remarkable,” said Darcy.

“And about to become more so,” said Edward, as he approached the door at the opposite side of the chamber.

This door, too, had been sealed, and Edward could barely restrain himself long enough to open it with the proper care. When he had done it, they tested the air for foul gases with their flambeaux as Sir Matthew had shown them, and when all seemed safe, they went through into a smaller chamber. Their way was blocked by boxes. Edward opened the first one he came across, and its contents dazzled them. There were pendants of gold inlaid with lapis lazuli, scarabs inlaid with turquoise carnelian, arm bracelets of gold inlaid with jasper, amulets of Anubis and Horus—a dazzling array of jewels and trinkets all twinkling in the dancing light. He whirled round in the centre of the room in high spirits, gazing at the blues and reds and golds that dazzled from every corner and from the magnificent sarcophagus in the centre.

Elizabeth lifted her flambeau to see the walls and gasped.

“The paintings,” she said. “They are the same as the paintings on the frieze of Aahotep I saw in the British Museum, where I first met Sir Matthew.”

“Aahotep must make amends,” muttered Edward, reading the hieroglyphs beneath the painting.

Paul was already busily sketching, his hands moving rapidly as he sought to make a record of everything he saw in its original place.

“And now the work begins,” said Darcy.

“Yes.” Edward shook his head as if shaking strange imaginings away. “We have to transport the treasures back to the camp. But where to begin?”

Their activities soon became more methodical. Returning to the first antechamber, they began to wrap the smaller items and place them in the sacks, and then the men carried the sacks across the plank bridge and deposited them there, ready to be carried to the donkeys later in the day. When they had removed all the portable pieces, they went through into the farthest antechamber and began to empty the chests, filling the sacks with jewels and pausing every now and then to rest and drink, for the air was stifling. But their spirits were high and they scarcely noticed the heat or the closeness of the air, working on willingly as the morning passed into afternoon.

“I think this must be the last one,” said Elizabeth, as she put a final pendant into the sack beside her.

“We can stay another hour and still be back at the camp before dark,” said Edward.

“I do not doubt it, but we have run out of sacks,” said Elizabeth.

Edward was startled.

“Have we really collected so much?” he asked.

“We have. The rest will have to wait. It will all be here tomorrow, and the next day, too,” said Darcy.

“But will it?” asked Edward. “I don't like leaving it unguarded. I think I will sleep here tonight.”

He picked up his sack, Darcy carried a second one, and Paul, with every inch of paper in his book covered in drawings, picked up a last few items and put them in his pockets. Then they made their way into the outer antechamber and went toward the bridge.

“That's odd,” said Paul, who had walked more quickly than the others. “I could have sworn the planks were here.”

“Have you lost them?” said Darcy jovially. “I am not surprised. You have not been back and forth all day as we have.” But when he joined Paul he said, “It is not possible.” He called to Edward, and Edward came up beside him. “The bridge,” he said. “It has gone.”

“Impossible,” said Edward.

“I know. But it has.”

“What is that, over there?” asked Paul, peering over the moat to the darkness beyond. “I thought I saw movement.”

“I knew it!” said Edward. “The
fellahs
have overcome their fear and have come to rob the tomb. They have thrown the planks into the moat, and we were too engrossed in what we were doing to hear them.”

“Not
fellahs
,” said Paul, whose light shone farthest across the void, remarking in surprise, “An Englishman.”

“An Englishman?” asked Darcy.

“Yes, an Englishman,” came a familiar voice, which echoed and reechoed round the cavernous space.

“I must be hearing things,” said Darcy.

“If you are, then I am too,” said Elizabeth.

“Good afternoon, dear sister,” said Wickham, coming to the edge of the moat so that the light of their flambeaux fell upon him. “What a coincidence, meeting you here.”

“Sister?” asked Paul, surprised. “I had no idea you were related to Mrs Darcy. Why did you not say so when I met you in Cairo?”

“Do you two know each other?” asked Edward.

“Yes. Or, at least, we have met,” said Paul. “This is Sir Mark Bellingham, the gentleman who offered me employment when I finished my work for Mr Darcy. He understood that I would be travelling down the Nile to Sir Matthew's dig but he said he would be prepared to wait. He said…”

“That talent like yours does not come along very often? That you are a genius?” asked Wickham, amused.

Paul was bewildered at the contemptuous tone in his voice.

“Then you are not a patron of the arts?” he asked as he tried to make sense of it.

“He is nothing of the kind,” said Darcy grimly. “He is a liar. His name is not Sir Mark Bellingham.”

“Then what is it?” asked Paul.

“Wickham,” ground out Darcy.

“Wickham!” said Paul in surprise. “The man whose father joined your fathers on their ill-fated expedition?”

“
What
?” exclaimed Darcy.

“The third man. See, here, it is written in Lord Fitzwilliam's diary.” He found the page and read, “…there was a landslide in the tomb, and as we had foolishly entered without guides we thought we were doomed. But luckily Wickham had remained behind as he was feeling a trifle unwell, and becoming alarmed at our absence he set out in search of us. Thank God he did! He worked tirelessly to free us, bloodying his hands raw and breaking a couple of bones tearing the stones away to leave an airway for us before going for help.”

“And what did my father get for his pains?” spat Wickham. “A position as a steward! What a fine reward for risking his life to rescue two wealthy men who could have made his fortune without noticing the loss to their own pockets. And nothing has changed. Your fathers robbed my father of his rightful reward, just as you have attempted to rob me of my share of the treasure. The map was split into three, but you did not let that trouble you. You planned your trip to Egypt and said not a word to me.”

“We did not know the identity of the third man,” said Darcy. “Or, at least, I did not know.”

He looked hard at Edward, and Edward had the grace to look ashamed.

“I knew how you felt about Wickham,” he said. “If I mentioned that his father was the third man on the expedition, I felt you would not lend me your support. I was planning to share the treasure with him, if any was found.”

“And so you tricked me into it?” said Darcy. “This was a bad day's work.”

“Not for me,” said Wickham. “For me it has been a very good day's work. Perhaps it is cynical of me to doubt that you ever intended to share these riches, but I prefer things as they are. It was kind of you to leave the sacks of treasure all neatly stacked on this side of the moat for me and equally kind of you to leave a collection of donkeys to transport it for me.”

“You will not get far,” said Darcy. “You have no camp nearby—”

“But I do have a boat,” said Wickham, “and soon all these treasures will be travelling with me to Cairo, where I mean to sell them to collectors and set myself up for life—something you should have done years ago, Darcy, for taking that brat of a Bennet off your hands.”

“That is no way to talk of your wife,” said Darcy.

“No? Well, perhaps when I have a fine house and enough money to buy myself time away from her I will not speak of her that way. Perhaps, the next time we meet, I will say she is the most charming woman on earth. Until then, I will bid you adieu.”

And with that he turned on his heel and walked away, out of the flickering red light and into the blackness beyond.

“You cannot leave us here!” called Paul after him. “We cannot stay here all night; we have women with us! Return the planks at least, so that we might cross the moat.”

But there was no reply.

The sound of Wickham's footsteps faded down the tunnel, leaving the five adventurers in stunned silence. The light from their torches was growing gradually dimmer.

“How could you not have told me?” Darcy said with too-quiet calm to Edward, who was still staring at the tunnel mouth sullenly.

“I did not think…”

“No, cousin, you certainly did not. You should have told me immediately. Quite apart from the danger you have put us in, you have brought dishonour to our family.”

“What is done is done,” Elizabeth said. “Let us begin to think practically. We cannot expect any help from our guards, who have either been tricked or bribed into leaving us, but we will be rescued eventually when the others back at the camp realise we have not returned. It will take some time and so we should think about preserving the light. I do not relish the thought of languishing here in pitch darkness. And we must see how much water we all have.”

Since they had not expected to be imprisoned in the tomb, their torches—wooden sticks with rags soaked in oil—were small and light. They were not meant to last for long. Reluctantly they agreed to extinguish all but one, and although no one said anything, they were all thinking the same thought. What would happen when the last torch was used up? The tomb, which had seemed like an exotic fairyland of sparkling jewels and priceless treasures a short while ago, was now revealed to be a sinister repository for the dead. Elizabeth felt her spirits sink. Her thin muslin dress, so practical in the heat of the desert, was no protection against the dampness of the tomb. She could almost feel the Nile waters seeping into her bones. Seated beside her, Darcy felt her trembling and removed his jacket.

“Here,” he said, placing it round her shoulders. “Help will soon arrive, my love.”

Elizabeth nodded. “What o'clock is it?” she asked, and he consulted his pocket watch.

“Nearly twelve.”

“We started early. How soon will it be before we are missed, do you suppose?”

Darcy hesitated. The days were still long and he doubted anyone would begin to concern themselves before early evening. Taking another look at the pitifully small torch, he took a deep breath.

“Very soon. Have no fear, Elizabeth. We will be outside in no time.”

Elizabeth sighed. “I am sure you are right. Only what are we to do until then?”

“We should look for another way out,” said Darcy. “Edward, you have made a study of Egyptian tombs. Do you think there might be another entrance?”

“It is possible. Sometimes the workmen created another exit, one which could be used to secretly remove the treasures after the tomb was sealed.”

“And if not, we might come across something we can use to make another bridge,” said Paul.

“A good idea,” said Darcy. “I do not relish the thought of just sitting here for hours.”

“Neither do I,” said Sophie, glancing apprehensively at the flickering shadows that danced in black corners, making the painted faces on the friezes leer and grin.

Darcy picked up the torch and led them through the main chamber, where the treasures of the tomb had been piled up but were now depleted. He moved slowly, aware that he was carrying the only light they had. He picked his way past caskets and chests toward the back of the chamber until they had reached the wall of the cave.

“One moment, if you please, Mr Darcy,” said Paul, his eyes lighting on a new frieze that had been painted onto the wall. “This is unusual. I do not think I've seen this style before.”

Darcy held the torch up and they looked at the drawing. Paul was right; the painting was not like the other richly coloured ceremonial pictures which described the progress of two high status Egyptians into heaven, but was altogether more businesslike. The pigments were brown and red and seemed to be concerned mainly with two characters. One figure was twice the height of the other, a man with a crook and a flail in his hands. The other figure, depicted several times, always kneeling and in thrall to the first, was a woman, her beauty still clear for all to see but now less terrible than the many other representations they had seen of her.

“Aahotep!” Elizabeth breathed.

The likeness to the first time they had come across her painting back at the British Museum was unmistakable. She even seemed similar to the little doll Margaret had carried everywhere. But now the expression on Aahotep's face was no longer proud and vengeful. The woman in these paintings looked frightened and humbled and even a little tired.

“It seems she has been made to pay for her sins,” said Sophie.

“The artistry is fascinating,” Paul added, handing his sketchbook to Sophie so that he could trace the painting with his fingers. “She seems genuinely terrified of this character.”

They all looked at the stern features of the man leaning down over Aahotep.

“What was it Sir Matthew said?” Darcy continued. “Aahotep was doomed by the magician Ptah to walk the earth until she had learned the error of her ways and made amends. This must be Ptah.”

Edward nodded. “It makes sense. See here, he's surrounded by the head of an ibis, representing Thoth, the god of wisdom; the feather of Ma'at, goddess of justice; and the crown of Isis, who represents magic.”

“Wisdom, justice, and magic,” Darcy repeated. “It seems that Ptah has used all three to sentence Aahotep.”

“And these symbols here,” said Paul, pointing to the crook and flail the magician held. “They are usually carried by Osiris, the god of the dead.”

“Aahotep must find a way to make amends,” said Edward, almost in a trance.

He bent down, but Sophie was there before him as something gold caught their eyes. She bent down to pick up something which proved to be a necklace.

“How odd,” she said. “It is the same necklace as the one round Aahotep's neck in the picture. I have never seen anything quite like it.”

Elizabeth shivered as an eerie feeling washed over her. Darcy put his arm round her instinctively, just as a terrifying crack rent the air and the ground seemed to open up beneath her. Darcy pulled her back from the brink, but Sophie was not so lucky.

“Sophie!” Elizabeth cried, as Sophie teetered on the edge, her face a mask of horror.

Sophie swayed for a moment as she tried to regain her balance, and it seemed she would do so, but then she fell, throwing up the sketchbook and necklace as she reached for the sides of the pit.

Paul and Edward both lunged forward.

Paul threw himself at his sketchbook while Edward threw himself at Sophie, falling at full length on the ground in his effort to catch her as he let the necklace fall into the pit.

“I have you,” said Edward as he looked into her panic-stricken eyes with his own suddenly clear ones. “You are safe. I will not let you go.”

“My fingers are slipping,” she said.

“Give me your other hand,” he urged, reaching out for it.

But even as he spoke, her fingers slipped through his grip, and he could only watch in anguish as she hurtled down into the pit and landed with a sickening thud at the bottom.

“Noooooo!” cried Edward.

“Sophie!” Elizabeth called in horror. “Sophie, are you all right?”

She knelt beside Edward as Darcy thrust the torch downward to illuminate the pit. The dancing light revealed Sophie's face, now an unhealthy white in the weak illumination of the torch. Her eyes were closed and she made no reply.

“Sophie!” Edward shouted.

“Please, speak to us!” cried Elizabeth.

Slowly Sophie's eyes flickered open. She groaned and began to struggle to sit up, but then cried out with pain and sank back down again.

“Lie still, Sophie. I will soon be with you,” said Edward, before pulling back and sitting up then rising to his feet.

“That pit is at least twelve feet down,” Darcy said quietly. “It is a miracle she is still alive. The sides are smooth and without any footholds. I don't see how we can get down there, let alone bring her up.”

“I am going down,” said Edward in a tone that brooked no dissent. “I brought this upon her and I am not going to leave the woman I love alone in that hellish pit.”

“So, you love her,” said Darcy.

“Yes, I do, and when we get out of this situation I mean to ask her to be my wife.” Adding under his breath, “If she will have me, which after today's misadventure I very much doubt.”

Quickly he retrieved three of the remaining torches from their original resting place near the entrance to the tomb and returned to the pit, lighting them from their one glowing torch and handing them to Paul and Elizabeth.

“I was wrong about there being no footholds,” said Darcy, taking advantage of the better light as he peered down into the pit. “If you look carefully, you can see there are some stones sticking out around the wall. I will hold onto you for as long as I can. When you are at the bottom, I will throw a torch down to you.”

Edward nodded and began to inch his way tentatively downward. Elizabeth held the torch as near to him as she could in order to give him as much help as possible in seeing stones to balance on and crevices in which to slide his feet, while Darcy took a firm grip on his shirt.

“Be brave, Sophie,” Elizabeth shouted as Edward cautiously descended. “You will soon have company.” But this time there was no answering call, and she and Darcy exchanged worried glances.

There was a frightening moment when Edward slipped, but at the last minute he managed to regain a foothold. He jumped the last few feet and they heard the echoey thump of his boots on the packed earth before seeing him gather Sophie into his arms. He pulled her closer and as he kissed her, Elizabeth nudged Darcy's hand so that the torch no longer shone on the young couple.

“If you see Edward kissing her, you will have to speak to him sternly about it,” she said. “They are not yet betrothed.”

“But if I do not see it?”

“Then you will not have to object!”

Then Sophie's weak voice could be heard as it echoed round the walls, saying, “You ignored the necklace. You saved me!”

“And you saved me. When you fell, it cut through the strange obsession which has gripped me these past few months. I knew I did not care if I never saw another tomb again, but I could not live without you. Sophie, this is neither the time nor the place, but I cannot wait any longer. Will you marry me?”

And around the walls reverberated the echo, “Yes… yes… yes.”

Elizabeth glanced at Paul, and for a moment he looked downcast, but then a look of calm dawned on his face and Elizabeth thought,
He
loves
her
but
he
loves
his
art
more, and now he realises it and he has accepted it
.

After giving the newly engaged couple a little more time, Darcy called down, “Are you ready for the torch, Edward?”

“Yes, cousin.”

Darcy threw the torch down and they saw Edward hurry to pick it up before it was completely extinguished. In the flare of light from the pit they saw that Edward was now examining her.

“How badly is she hurt?” called Elizabeth.

“I cannot tell in this gloom. I think her arm may be broken,” said Edward. “We must get her out of here as quickly as possible. I will look around down here and see if there is anything that will help, a piece of rope perhaps or something similar.”

His torch began to move, and suddenly they heard him give an exclamation.

“Good lord!” he said. “There is something down here. Can you see this?” He moved the torch until it lit something large and made of gold. “It is a small sarcophagus. And lying on top of it… the necklace. Almost as if it led us here,” he added musingly.

“Were the Egyptian dead not often buried with objects that would be useful to them in the afterlife?” asked Elizabeth. “Perhaps there will be something in the sarcophagus we can use.”

“It is worth a try,” said Edward as he knelt and examined the gold box. “There are no carvings of any kind on it and the lid is far heavier than I would have expected. I cannot remove it—hello, what's this?” He sat back on his heels. “Really, I can hardly—”

“What is it, Edward?” Elizabeth shouted impatiently.

“The sarcophagus,” breathed Edward. “The markings on the lid are quite clear. This is the sarcophagus of Aahotep.”

***

Back at the camp, Mrs Bennet sat beside Sir Matthew's bedside with a cloth in her hand.

“…and as soon as Mr Bingley moved into the neighbourhood, I knew he would end up marrying one of my girls, for as I said to Mr Bennet—”

“Grandmama,” protested Beth, trying to halt Mrs Bennet's endless flow of words.

But Mrs Bennet was enjoying herself and ignored her.

“‘Jane cannot be so beautiful for nothing.' And so it proved, for…”

Beth gave up and took the cloth out of her grandmama's hand so that she could bathe Sir Matthew's head, while outside, she heard William speaking in a dignified voice to Saeed. He, like Beth, had taken quiet charge when Mrs Bennet had proved to be unequal to the task. And while the younger children played, they helped Saeed restore some calm to the camp.

But as the day progressed, Beth was painfully aware how inadequate her actions were. Sir Matthew occasionally roused himself and apologised for inconveniencing her, but he was getting worse and there was little she could do. Mrs Bennet, tiring of the sickroom, retired to her tent with her nerves, so that Beth hoped her parents would be back soon.

As she sat and pondered, Saeed entered the tent. To her relief, Beth saw that he was accompanied by a new arrival, the camp physician.

“Here is Mr Knight,” said Saeed as the physician took in the situation at a glance.

“Well, well, young lady, and so you are the nurse? And doing a very good job, I see. If I can just…” Mr Knight made a quick examination of Sir Matthew and then smiled reassuringly at Beth. “We'll have him up and about again in no time, you just leave him to me. Now you go off and play, my dear, or whatever it is young ladies like to do.” He smiled kindly at her and Beth gladly gave up her place at Sir Matthew's side, going out of the tent and looking for William so that she could give him the news.