Kathlyn Trent, Marcus Burton 01 - Valley of the Shadow (13 page)

              Marcus found her lying unconscious near the battered opening to Chamber E.

***

"Owwwwooooo!"

Kathlyn sat up in bed so fast that she smashed into Marcus, sitting beside her. She hit her head on his chin, bounced off, and fell back down on the bed. He barely had time to react to the sudden movement; it frankly scared the hell out of him.

"Christ," he hissed, his arms on her to steady her as she rolled about. "Kathlyn, are you all right?"

Her hands were on her head again, feeling every inch of her brain throb. "I don't know," she muttered through thick lips. "Where am I?"

He put his hand on her forehead, gently.  "You're back in camp. What are you howling about?”

“I don’t know. Was I howling?”

“You sure as hell were,” Marcus moved to hold her hand. “How do you feel?"

"Like crap," she whispered. "What happened?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing. I found you lying unconscious in Chamber E. Do you remember anything?"

She opened her big green eyes slowly, blinking up at the ceiling. Then she looked at Marcus; Juliana, Debra Jo and Mark were clustered behind him, worry etched on their faces.

"Don't look at me like that," she said. "I'm all right."

"You were out a long time," Marcus said. "The military doctor who came to take Dennis away took a look at you and suggested you had simply passed out from exhaustion. He wants you to take it easy for a few days."

"Dennis?" she didn't particularly care for her prognosis and shifted the subject. "How is he?"

"The doctor is taking him to a hospital in Cairo to stabilize him. Then they're going to fly him to Weisbaden Military Hospital in Germany." Marcus was obviously distressed. "He's pretty chewed up. I don't know why the Natron did that to him. Its elements aren't usually that corrosive."

"Poor Dennis," she murmured. "He walked right into a trap."

"And you went down there to check it out," Marcus could have been very upset about that, but he let it go. Now was not the time. "What happened that made you pass out?"

She thought a moment, hands at her head. She sighed, trying to find the right words, but tears suddenly sprang to her eyes.  She tried to blink them away but they spilled over and Marcus pulled her up against his broad chest.

"It's okay," he murmured into her hair, rocking her gently. "Don't worry about it. We'll talk about it later."

She held on to him as if he was her rock. His arms were so powerful and his chest so broad that it was like being held within the safest, most comforting cocoon possible. She felt as if nothing could touch her as long as Marcus was there to protect her.

"I've never felt anything like it in my life," she whispered into his chest. "It was awful. Really frightening."

Juliana knelt beside the bed and stroked her hair. "What happened? What did you feel?"

She turned to look at her friend, her head still resting against Marcus' chest. "It was overwhelming.  There was such terror I couldn't even begin to describe it. And it wasn't like something was trying to scare me away; it was more like I was feeling someone else's fear."

"You don't normally sense such strong emotion," Juliana said. "It must be really powerful for you to feel it."

Kathlyn snorted ironically. "I've done nothing but sense emotion since I came here. This whole valley is full of it. That, and ghosts."

"So fear made you pass out?"

"No," she shook her head. "It was the pain in my head, I guess. A hundred times worse than any migraine I've ever had. I just couldn't handle it."

Marcus rested his chin on the top of her head. "Scorpions, acid Natron, killer headaches. This tomb had been loads of fun and we haven't even fully explored it."

Juliana patted Kathlyn on the head and stood up. "I don't think she should go back in there," she said to Marcus. "I've worked with Kat for eighteen years, since we entered college together, and I've never seen her react like this. This thing is going to kill her if she's not careful."

Some of the color edged back into Kathlyn's cheeks. "I think you're overreacting," she snapped softly. "I've been all over this world, rooting out things that no one in their right mind would dare mess around with, and I'll be damned if an Egyptian tomb is going to lick me. No way in hell."

Juliana wouldn't back down. "Do you want to look me in the eye and tell me that this thing hasn't knocked you for a loop? You said yourself that you sensed foreboding and evil.  All of these things are designed to keep us out and still you want to go charging in there, swinging on ropes and beating your chest. You need to forget your pride, your reputation, and think about what you're doing."

Kathlyn pushed herself up from Marcus' chest, though he still had his arms around her. "I am thinking about what I'm doing. I'm thinking about the safety of everyone on my team. That's why I'm going to send you all on Israel while I deal with this thing."

Juliana and Mark were outraged.  Debra Jo merely shook her head and sat away from the battle to come. "When in the hell did you decide this?" Juliana asked.

"Today. Right now. I can't risk all of you. But I have to do this; I can't let this beat me."

Mark crossed his arms. "I'm not going. I'm staying right here."

Juliana chimed in. "Me, too. We started this together, we're going to finish it together."

Before they could work themselves up into a state, Marcus stepped in. "All right, everybody calm down. We're all upset and it's coming out in all directions." He brushed Kathlyn's hair off her face as he looked at her. "First of all, as the person in charge of this dig, it is my directive that Dr. Trent takes it easy the rest of the day.  Any show of resistance will be firmly and summarily met. Secondly, I think Dr. Maurer and Dr. La Coste need to go down with me and help clear away the Natron door. I don't trust it to anyone but us. Once that's down, I'll feel a lot better. Right now, it's like a guillotine waiting to fall and I don't like it one bit."

Kathlyn didn't like the fact that she was being left out, like she was too weak to handle it.  She pushed herself away from him and went in search of her shoes.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "My crew doesn't work without me. If they're going to help you take down the Natron plaster, then I need to be there too. They don't do anything that I'm not fully prepared to do myself."

"We can work without you," Mark said. "You need to rest."

She paused, one boot half-on. Marcus was right; they were all on edge.  They were all concerned for her and she didn't like it; she was always the strong one, the rock when everything else was crumbling. Now she was in danger of crumbling and she was determined as hell not to let that happen.

"Look," she said, making sure to look at each one of them. "Something happened to me down there, something I don't understand and can't explain. But it scared the hell out of me. I feel like if I don't go face it again then I'll be forever cowering from it. It's like falling off a horse; I have to keep getting back on it no matter how many times it throws me off."

They understood. Juliana and Mark, who knew her particularly well, understood more than most. Juliana squeezed her hand. "You're a tough old bird.  Besides, Mark needs you looking over his shoulder so he won't screw up."

Mark nodded his head. "Hell yes. Who knows what will happen to me if you're not around."

Kathlyn smiled at them, relieved their little tiff wasn't going anywhere. "Thanks. All for one, one for all."

Juliana and Mark agreed with her, then left the tent so she could finish getting herself together. Debra Jo slipped out, seeing she wasn’t needed or wanted. Marcus stayed, watching her struggle with her boots, watching her brush her hair and pull it back into a ponytail, and then watching her smear some lip gloss on. Bone-tired, dirty, and in disheveled clothing, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.  His heart fluttered wildly in his chest at the sight of her.

She finally slipped on her Lennon-style sunglasses and faced him. "Let's go, Burton. I've a tomb to explore."

"Yes, ma'am," he chuckled, pulling her into one final embrace. "You sure you're up to this?"

"More than ever."

"Fine. But if you fall into fits and start speaking in tongues, I'll drag your ass out of there so fast it'll make your head spin."

"And then what?"

"I ship you off to Cairo for a nice long rest and join you there as soon as I can."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Sounds interesting. I may just have to go into convulsions for the hell of it."

He eyed her. "Don't get any bright ideas."

She smiled at him. “That’s all I have are bright ideas, or didn’t you realize that?”

He smacked her on the bottom and turned her for the tent opening. “Enough lip. You want to explore this tomb or don’t you?”

“Can I get some aspirin first?”

“I think we can spare the time.”

The last time the people in camp had seen Kathlyn, it had been unconscious in Dr. Burton’s arms. Now she was moving, smiling, and heading back up for the tomb. It gave them hope that the Mummy’s Curse wasn’t upon them, after all. But the underlying apprehension they had all felt for the past several days was a difficult thing to shake.

CHAPTER TEN

"Surely, Dr. McGrath, you cannot allow her to stay, for her own sake."

McGrath and Baras sat across from one another in McGrath's tent. It was searing even though a portable swamp cooler worked at full steam.  They had a pitcher of boiled fruit juice between them in what was supposed to be a hospitable meeting. But Baras had come on strong and McGrath had decided that he plain didn't like the man. He had an annoying habit of sitting forward in his chair, clutching his briefcase as if someone was going to steal it. He also whined like a spoiled child. Still, it was difficult to completely refute what he was driving at.

"Dr. Trent is being sponsored by World Geography Magazine now, Mr. Baras,” McGrath said patiently. “I have nothing to do with her being here."

"Forgive me, but that is not true,” Baras countered. “Certainly, World Geographic Magazine has a contract with UCPR for her services. I know that SCU did.  You are basically in charge of this dig and, consequently, in charge of its personnel."

"So what are you saying?"

"I've been here for two days, doctor. I've observed an archaeologist being struck down by acid and I've seen Dr. Trent deteriorate from a vibrant, polished woman into a shadow of her former self. Do you deny these happenings?"

McGrath struggled to keep his cool.  "What ‘happenings’?"

Baras snorted as if McGrath was an idiot. "She's falling into fits, of course."

"How do you know?"

"Everyone knows!"

McGrath didn't say anything for a moment. He leaned back, fumbling with the cigarettes in his pocket. He normally only smoked one or two a day because he was trying to quit. Already today he had smoked five, two within the past hour of Baras' visit.  He lit his sixth of the day and took a long drag.

"Mr. Baras," he said slowly. "I realize that you want Dr. Trent for your own purposes. But we're not done with her yet."

Baras didn't say anything for a moment. Taking one hand off his briefcase, he took a sip of his drink. "You will forgive me again, Dr. McGrath, but I have taken the liberty of contacting World Geography Magazine as to Dr.Trent's rumored condition. For the sake of her own health, they may decide to move her off this dig immediately."

McGrath could feel his face growing red. "And onto yours."

Baras shrugged. "To be honest, they have been clamoring to do an article on the Calvary Escarpment for years. They do not want to pass this chance up, as SCU was forced to by Dr. Trent's untimely withdrawal."

"She won't go. It doesn't matter, of course, because Dr. Bardwell will hire her on temporarily with UCPR."

"After I informed them of the situation here, my government took the liberty of sending an email to Dr. Bardwell regarding Dr. Trent's condition. I doubt he will want to keep her here if she is so terribly sick."

It occurred to McGrath that Baras had all his bases covered. He finished his cigarette and lit another. There was an underlying shrewdness to Baras that McGrath had sorely underestimated and he wondered what it would cost him. He stood up and began to pace around.

"This is her dig," he finally said. "Why would you want to deny her what she had worked so hard to achieve?"

Baras stood up too, briefcase and all. "It is not a matter of denying her, Dr. McGrath. But you must understand how valuable she is to the world in general; how many people have her gift of achievement at such an early age? Certainly, this is her dig, but it is also a hazardous, dangerous circumstance and you would be selfish to keep her here until it ultimately kills her. As I understand it, she has already hurt herself several times since she has been here. What more needs to happen to her before you realize she is at risk here?"

"Why in the hell do you want her so badly?"

"It's not a matter of want. It is a matter of what is best for all."

"You mean what is best for the Israeli government."

Baras shook his head. "You are putting words in my mouth. In a sense, we are both being extremely selfish. You want very badly to keep Dr. Trent here in spite of the questionable circumstances and I want very much for her to come to Jerusalem. Who is more selfish; you or me?"

McGrath cocked an eyebrow. "I'm going to be blunt, Mr. Baras. We had her first."

Baras smiled weakly.  Outside, the day was waning and the smells from the mess tent were heavy in the dusky air. Baras could sense that this conversation had come to a close, for today.

"Then I thank you for your time, Dr. McGrath. I apologize if I have said anything offensive, but I feel as strongly for my position as you do for yours."

"Then you will understand how determined we are to keep her."

"I suppose we'll have to see what the magazine and Dr. Bardwell have to say about that."

"I wish you hadn't done that."

Baras simply shrugged and quit the tent with his briefcase clutched to his chest. McGrath stood there a moment, mulling over the conversation, before lighting yet another cigarette.

***

"What in the hell is this room?" Juliana hissed.

Kathlyn stood at the threshold with Marcus. The Natron door was down, workers in plastic Haz-Mat gear shoveling it up and taking it away in big plastic tubs.  Even the Marines were helping.  The archaeologists clustered around the entryway, all straining to catch a glimpse of what such a horribly rigged door might be protecting. But there was no gold, no sarcophagus, nothing of any value, just piles of partially-mummified skeletons in a small, dirty room. The more they looked at it, the more horrifying it became.

"Oh, my God," Kathlyn whispered. "Look at all of them. Who could they possibly be?"

Marcus' expression was grim as he stared at the mounds of remains. "Looks like some sort of mass execution or mass grave," he turned to Lynn. "Get pictures and video of this immediately, before we even move into the room. I want the floor photographed for analysis."

Lynn gathered Larry and Andy and their equipment. While the others backed away from the entry, the three of them stood just outside the room and began filming like crazy. Lynn took still after still of the floor near the doorway.

"Marcus, I need to go in to better photograph the floor," he said.  "If there are footprints or any other traces, I need to be right on top of them."

Marcus nodded. "Get stills of the bodies, too.  Every possible angle."

Lynn and his team moved into the room with incredible skill and cautiousness. The others stood back and watched. Marcus realized that Kathlyn was holding his hand, very tightly, and he glanced down at her to make sure she was all right.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, squeezing her hand.

She sighed, her eyes still on the bones in the room. "Yes," she said. "So many ghosts in there. This place is damn spooky."

Marcus had to agree. He had far less of the instincts that she had and even he could feel the ghosts.

"I've never seen or heard of anything like this in an Egyptian burial," he said. "Clearly there were many cases of this kind of mass burial in Sumerian, Assyrian, and Babylonian culture. They even did it on the Caucasus Steppes in Scythian society. But the Egyptians weren't like that. If they wanted to take slaves or servants with them, they entombed themselves with little clay or wooden figurines. Not live people."

Kathlyn shook her head slowly; that strange creepiness was beginning to fill her again. "The man who built this tomb killed his own king to assume the throne. Who's to say what he would do.  Maybe these are slaves. Or maybe these are the remains of everyone who was involved in the assassination of Tutankhamen. Maybe Horemheb, Ay's successor, had these people entombed with Ay as a punishment."

Marcus watched Lynn as the man flashed pictures across the chamber wall. "That's a very interesting theory. It would explain a lot, like the fact that the walls haven't even been painted. There's no decoration, no nothing. What could be a worse punishment than spending eternity in a vault that lacked all the trappings of a glorious afterlife?"

Kathlyn thought it was a good theory too until she thought further on it. "On second thought, if that was the case, why would Horemheb have allowed Ay the splendor of a grand burial if he wanted to punish the man?"

Marcus lifted his eyebrows. "Pure and simple; he didn't have a choice. To deny Ay his proper burial would have been to pass judgment on him, and the gods would not have liked that at all. Only They had the power to judge a king's soul."

"But Horemheb could still punish the king's subjects?"

"Exactly."

"Dr. Burton?"

Andy was calling him from inside the chamber. Marcus moved into the room, carefully, to see what Andy was pointing at.

"Another sealed doorway," Andy said, taking video of it. "I can see the outline."

Marcus saw it, too.  He examined it closely. "It's simple mud." He looked at Kathlyn and the others, standing just outside the doorway. "Somebody get me a sledgehammer and then get back. I'm going to see what's on the other side, and I don't want any more Natron explosions hurting anyone."

Mark brought him the hammer, a massively heavy thing that Marcus wielded with ease. As Mark herded everyone back, Kathlyn found herself more interested in Burton's bulging biceps than in the sealed doorway.

"I'm thinking something very unprofessional right now," Juliana muttered, standing beside her.

"What's that?"

"That Burton is built like a brick shithouse."

Kathlyn struggled not to laugh. "You don't want to go there with me, Juliana Maurer. It'll only bring you trouble."

"Just an observation."

"Back off, woman."

Juliana giggled and moved aside, closer to Mark. Burton got a good grip on the sledgehammer and took a swing that would have made a professional baseball player proud. A huge chunk of the doorway broke off and fell away. As far as Burton could tell upon closer inspection, there was no Natron secretly waiting to burn them to bits. Lynn passed his digital camera off to Mark and retrieved a hammer. He and Burton began taking the door down as Andy, Larry and Mark filmed away.

The hole in the doorway grew larger and Kathlyn grabbed her Maglight and headed into the chamber. Making sure to stay clear of the flying hammers, she shined the light into the chamber beyond.

"I have an alabaster pedestal, about four feet high, to the left near the entrance. Be careful you don't hit it."

Marcus stopped swinging and took a look inside. "Got it," he motioned to Lynn. "It's on your side, about three feet from the entry. Careful."

Lynn resumed breaking down the mud, with less enthusiastic strokes. Kathlyn kept vigilant watch, examining the chamber as more of it came into view. Standing on the far right hand side where Marcus had knocked away a huge portion, she cast the light into the most distant corner she could reach. No one saw her face go pale in the darkened chamber.

"Marcus," she said.

He suddenly paused, afraid he was about to hit something. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, her eyes riveted to whatever it was inside the alabaster-pedestaled chamber. "Nothing. It's just that there is a sarcophagus back in the corner, extreme left side of the chamber.  Behind it, against the wall, we have a golden tabernacle approximately three cubits in width, five cubits high.  It is encircled by four goddesses, just like Tutankhamen's was."

Marcus dropped the hammer, peering into the hole.  "Christ," he murmured. "The canopic tabernacle and sarcophagus."

Everyone forgot all about the mummified bodies, the horror, the confusion. They were all supremely interested in the sarcophagus chamber. Marcus could only stand there in awe while everyone grouped in around him, jockeying for the best view. But they blocked Kathlyn's light and laughed when they realized how silly, and excited, they were acting. Lynn took the flashlight from Kathlyn as Marcus turned to her, catching her up in a powerful embrace.

"We did it," he whispered. "You did it!"

She held him tightly, thrilled and relieved they had finally reached their goal. "I had a lot of help."

"But you were the catalyst. It wouldn't have happened without you. To say thanks doesn't seem quite good enough."

"So buy me a drink and call it even."

"I can do much better than that."

He continued to hold her in the midst of what was, to date, the most significant moment of his life. He wouldn't have wanted to share it with anyone else. Mark told the SCA workers outside of the door in Chamber E, who immediately started shouting about it. Allah Akbar, Allah Akbar, the Egyptian workers began to say. God is great, God is Great.

A king had come home.