Tutankhamun Uncovered (81 page)

Six in the morning found Carter sitting in the porch outside his bedroom in Castle Carter. He had been wakeful all through the night. Thinking this perhaps would be his last Luxor sunrise, he wanted to miss not one moment of it drink in the atmosphere, memorise the very odour of the place, listen to the waking waterfowl stirring in the marshes below him, hear the fishermen beating the Nile waters, and watch the sun bathe the Theban hills one more time.

He kept his eyes on the river. The broad indigo artery threaded its way soundlessly across his field of view. With no wind this morning, the river appeared flat as a mirror. Its stillness belied the power of the currents at work beneath. Within a few moments, the sun’s amber disc embarked from the east bank and began its daily crossing to the opposite side.

Carter kept his eyes fixed on the water until the sun’s reflection began to break up and sparkle in amongst the reeds and crops rimming the west bank. He breathed in deeply and stretched. He smelt the smoke from the kitchen. Abdel was already about the business of breakfast. Carter smiled. This would be a special breakfast. He would have enough chairs placed around the table to accommodate the spirits of Carnarvon, Evelyn and Pecky Callender. They would discuss, together, privately, intimately, that infamous night’s excitement one more time.

Abdel noticed the extra chairs but thought nothing of it. He placed the plate of mixed grill at his master’s place and returned to the kitchen.

Carter sat himself down at the head of the table and began his fried eggs.

After consuming a few mouthfuls, he laid his knife and fork on the plate and reached into a leather satchel which he had previously placed under his seat.

“Take a look at this,” he whispered. “Any of you recognise it?”

It was the large, blue glass headrest that Burton and Lucas had come across at the time they were closing their work in The Valley. He put it on the table in front of the place where Carnarvon used to sit.

“Well?... Sir, I find you speechless. Why ever is that? Is it because this is the piece you surreptitiously removed from the tomb and told none of us? Or is it because this is the piece that Evelyn took from the tomb and, to protect her from suspicion of guilt, you took it from her and hid it? With which of these explanations do you concur?”

The earl remained silent.

“Lucas found it jammed into the wall around the tomb entrance. We built the wall so it had to have been hidden recently. I am curious to know not who did it, but why they hid it. Why, once successful in removing a piece that had not previously been recorded, did you not run off with it? I do not understand why it came to be so purposefully hidden.”

The earl turned his head to look at his daughter. Evelyn turned her head to stare at Callender. Callender turned to Carter.

“Why is everyone looking at you, Pecky?”

He shook his head.

“This is most aggravating. This is an unrecorded piece. For my own professional reasons I need to know who found it, where they found it, precisely, and why they secreted it in such a, I must say, stupid place.”

All three stared back at Carter in silence.

“All right. Let me start again....”

At this point Abdel walked back onto the porch with the coffee. Carter assumed his usual position. Abdel poured him some more coffee and left. “Abdel! Come back here, man! Leave the pot and go about your business. Go feed the animals. I’ll call for you if I need you.”

Alone once more, Carter renewed his conversation with the empty chairs.

“You assume much responsibility, your lordship. I think in this case too much too weighty. Me too, for that matter. To tell you the truth, Lucas found this, Burton and I wagered for it, and Burton won. Two years later, on my sixtieth birthday, Burton presents it to me as a gift. No better gift, yes?”

He observed nods of agreement from all at the table.

“Now. All I want to know is, where did it come from?”

After a moment or two, Carnarvon’s mouth moved but Carter couldn’t make out the faintest word.

“I’m sorry, your lordship. Could you say that again, please?”

Carnarvon’s lips were forming words, but Carter couldn’t hear a single one of them.

“This is most frustrating, your lordship. I have not comprehended a word you have said.”

Carter stopped his questioning. Pictures began to form in his mind. He saw Carnarvon in the antechamber. He saw him watching Carter disappear into the cavity that provided access to the annex. He saw him look at one of the golden beds and turn as if to take something that was standing on it. Before Carter had extricated himself from the opening, the earl had placed the object carefully in a corner, in the darkness, on the other side of the partially dismantled doorway separating them from the entrance corridor. Carter gave the earl a knowing look. The grandee smiled in recognition.

Abdel returned unannounced and the entire suite of guests disappeared.

“Dammit, Abdel! I told you not to come back until I called you.”

“I am sorry, sir. You had been here for some time and I thought you might be in need of some more coffee. I am sorry.”

“Get out at once! I am busy.”

His confused servant departed.

Carter realised the stupidity of his statement. He shrugged his shoulders and turned back to address his guests. But the moment had passed. The seats lay vacant once more.

As he disembarked from his taxi at the front steps to the Winter Palace,

Anton was there to greet him. “Oh. I am honoured,” said Carter.

“No honour, sir. I’m just here to make sure you actually do leave.”

The two smiled together. Anton took his friend by the arm. “Particularly brilliant starlight tonight, Mr Carter. Looks like Osiris has come out in his best attire to wish you ‘bon voyage’. It seems all are pleased you are, finally, departing this place.”

Carter could take the sarcasm. They had quipped cruelly to each other on many occasions in front of company sometimes mercilessly so he ignored it. He looked up at the night sky. There was no moon. The backdrop was as deeply inert as patent leather. Across it the stars stood out like gemstones. The great constellation of Orion reached over him like a protective arch, the bright stars in its belt like the distant pyramids at Gizeh.

He became conscious of a presence the like of which he had only experienced once before, while he was in the tomb. He felt sure he was being watched. As the two of them made their way into the hotel, he looked around.

“What are you looking for, Mr Carter?” asked the manager.

“Mmm? Oh, nothing... Nothing, Anton. Just thought I recognised someone. These old eyes, wrong again.”

“I hope not the infamous Mrs AO!” quipped the manager.

“Ooh, no! Long forgotten and never repeated, thank God,” smiled Carter.

“I have reserved a special suite for you tonight, Mr Carter. I hope you approve. Special night. Special room. The suite Lord Carnarvon used to use. No extra charge!” The manager’s eyes gleamed, anticipating Carter’s reaction.

“I am truly honoured!” He really felt it. The gesture could not have been more appropriate.

Anton entered the room first, held the door open for Carter, and went over to the window to draw back the shutters. The evening breeze played with the curtains. Carter turned to Anton and smiled. It was enough.

Anton saw he was about to speak and interrupted, “Sir. Please. No thanks. It is not for you to thank us. It is our position to thank you. You cannot know how much you have done for us. Egypt of course, as well, but for this hotel... So much... So many visitors... So many generously rich clients... I cannot count the names. So much money!” He raised his arms with his palms outstretched, gesturing as if he were holding a giant sack.

“You have been a blessing to this place. All I ask of you is that you come back one day. Make a great new discovery. We will be waiting for you with the red carpet! There will be no bill. Thank you. Thank you, that is, from all of us.”

So saying, Anton bowed and ceremoniously backed out through the door. As he grasped the handle he said, “See you for dinner at his lordship’s table... at eight?”

Carter nodded and the door was pulled shut.

Nothing less than black tie and tails were in order that night and, as he was shown to his table, Carter looked every bit the part he had come to play. Anton had prepared a special menu for the evening. Two of the creations had been his lordship’s favourites. As it happened, Carter had never been all that partial to either dish, but tonight he was not going to disappoint his host who had been to so much trouble to get things just as they were all those years ago. The very same claret was on the table, too, and Carter immersed himself in it with relish, turning down the offer of his usual Scotch.

Anton poured the drinks and sat down opposite him.

They took up their glasses, clinked the crystal over the centre of the table, and together said, “To absent friends.”

The Egyptologist drained his glass and his friend reached across the table with the bottle and replenished it.

“Anton. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. There could not have been a more appropriate ‘goodbye’. How can I ever repay your hospitality?”

“As I have said before... That you have done so many times already... over and over again. It is I who is, and will remain, in your debt.”

The two smiled. Carter took another long draught and smacked his lips.

“While my intent is not to get myself soused on such an occasion as this, I may yet find, as the evening wears on, that this admirable claret will overtake my senses and cause some loss of control.”

His host laughed out loud. “A moment to be enjoyed. A moment to be treasured. A moment to be remembered. Have another.”

By the time the main course had arrived, Carter had lost control. He was telling jokes and laughing at Anton’s long list of stories of funny incidents during his many years at the hotel. He had completely forgotten his earlier ‘last-night-in-Luxor’ melancholy. Free of his usual inhibitions, he was having a whale of a time; the hotel manager, too. The two of them became a considerable disturbance to the other guests in the dining room that night.

Carter drained the bottom of his coffee cup and wiped the residue from his moustache. “Anton. My compliments to you and the chef. A meal that his lordship would have relished. Let us dedicate it to him once more.”

They raised their brandy glasses and took a long sip. Carter placed his napkin on the table in front of him and brought his fist up to his mouth. There was a moment’s pause and then a subdued belch. “Pardon me! Fun... great fun, Anton. I fear... I fear I shall need some assistance in finding my room tonight! I feel just a touch seedy, and once I stand up I will find that my mechanism for balance is somewhat at odds with the ability of my eyes to identify an horizon!”

As he pushed back his chair, Anton called to the head waiter to help.

The hotel manager got up, shook Carter’s hand warmly, and watched the two of them as the head waiter manoeuvred Carter carefully around the tables and the seated guests. As he left, and without looking back, Carter gave a final wave of the hand he had placed over his assistant’s shoulder.

Then he was gone.

That night, in the deep sleep that quickly overcame him, the gods and Pharaohs of the ancient Egyptians had visited him, one by one. It was a truly regal farewell; after all was said and done, he could have expected nothing less. He had welcomed them into his bedroom, colours sparkling about every one of them as they drifted through from wall to wall. He had recognised some of them and there were a few notable absentees. Tutankhamen was among these. That he found most curious.

With the advent of the pale light of dawn, the eternally energetic and lustful cocks of Luxor town awakened Carter without mercy. He had got to bed past twelve that night after a truly sumptuous dinner and, after falling asleep, had not contemplated waking.

Moaning just a little, he rolled himself out of bed and pulled on his dressing gown. He walked over to the window, placed his hands on the sill and leaned out. Outside, rich clusters of maroon and amber dates hung from great umbrellas of palm fronds. The broad, arching, herringbone leaves fluttered in the breeze, giving momentary glimpses of the Nile below. Beyond the river, the unmistakable skyline of the wall of rocks that protected The Valley of the Kings shone brilliantly in the horizontal light of early morning. The great bowl of rock which cradled the lavish temples of Hatshepsut, of Mentuhotep, and of Tuthmosis they gleamed together like many ivory teeth embedded within the jawbone of the limestone escarpment.

He soaked in the view. In his heart he knew he could not, would not, touch those rocks again. There was no energy any more. From now on, it would all be memories; nothing but memories.

There was a knock at the door. His host awaited him at breakfast.

The stark nakedness of the tomb disturbed him deeply. There were no servants present to tend to the king’s needs; there were no supplies to sustain him; no boats to take him on his journey; no weapons, no animals to protect him; no clothes for him to wear; no cosmetics for the greater good of his body; no jewellery to embellish it; no chariots to take him hunting; no music and no games for entertainment; no furniture for his comfort; his children had gone. But for the singular presence of his body, one of his coffins, his sarcophagus, and the remaining pictographs on the walls, there was nothing. It was, indeed, most depressing. All those things had had a purpose. Until ten years ago, they had appeared to serve him well.

The fact was, however, they still were. His servants tended him every day. The architects of his grave goods, they were all there. He had his wife and his children. Indeed, he had everything he needed for a life of happiness in perpetuity. Maat had returned. The absence of the physical objects of his previous life stacked row upon row, layer upon layer within the claustrophobic limestone cells adjoining his burial chamber, gathering the dust of ages, gradually degrading with time had had no effect. Safely hidden and resealed they may have once been, but ultimately, of their own accord, they were destined to break down into dust. There is no permanence in the earthly world.