rectangular shape was more precise and although the walls and roof were
rough, like IL
those of a mine, the marks of the tools that had shaped it were now
clearly visible. The footing of the tunnel was roughly paved with slabs
of crudely dressed stone, This whole length of the tunnel had also been
submerged, for it lay below the natural level of the river before it had
been dammed. The paving under their feet was wet and covered with a
slime that had not yet had time to dry out since it had been exposed by
the receding waters. The roof and walls of the tunnel ran with moisture,
and the air was dank and cold and smelled of mud and rot.
They waited for Sapper to string the cables for the lights across the
causeway. He set up the lamps and switched them on. At once they were
aware that ahead of them the shaft had begun to rise at an angle of
about twenty degrees.
"You can see what the old devil Taita. was up to here.
He has taken us down well below water level to flood the tunnel to a
length and depth that nobody would be able to swim along. Now he is
angling up again," Nicholas pointed out to Royan. They started forward,
moving slowly up the ascending shaft, and Nicholas counted aloud each
pace he took.
"One hundred and eight, one hundred and nine, one hundred and ten-'
suddenly they came to the recent low river level. It was clearly marked
as a dry line on the walls of the tunnel. The paving under their feet
was also dry and free of the slippery coating of slime. Fifty paces
further on they passed the high flood level of the river, which was just
as clearly etched on the rock floor and the walls. Beyond that the
tunnel had never been immersed, and the walls were in the same condition
as the Egyptian slave workmen had left them four thousand years earlier.
The marks of the bronze chisels were as pristine as if they had been
inflicted just days before.
Only ten feet beyond the highest point that the river waters had ever
reached, they came out upon a stone landing. Here the floor levelled
out, and then the tunnel turned sharply back upon itself.
"Let's spare a minute just to think about this as a feat of
engineering." Nicholas took Royan's arm and pointed back down the
tunnel. "Taita has placed this landing on which we are standing
precisely above the high-water mark of the river. How did he work it out
so exactly? He had no dumpy level, and only the crudest measuring
equipment.
is. It's a he And yet he calculated it as accurately as a piece of
work."
"Well, he tells us repeatedly in the scrolls that he is a genius. I
suppose we will have to believe him now." She pulled against his grip.
"Let's go on. I must see what lies around this corner," she urged.
Side by side they turned through the one hundred and eighty degree
corner and Nicholas held the hand lamp high, with the electrical cable
trailing back down the shaft behind him. As he lit the way ahead, Royan
exclaimed aloud and seized Nicholas's free hand. Both of them froze with
astonishment.
Taita had designed the turning of the ascending ramp for dramatic
effect. The lower section of the shaft through which they had passed was
"crudely constructed, the walls irregular and undressed, the roof lumpy
and cracked. Taita had calculated his levels so finely that he had known
that the lower levels of the shaft would be submerged and damaged by the
water. He had wasted no effort on beautifying them.
Now before them rose a wide stairway. The angle of its ascent was such
that, from where they stood on the landing, the top of it was hidden
from their view. Each step stretched the full width of the tunnel, and
rose, a hand's breadth. The treads were cut from slabs of mottled
gneiss, polished and fitted to each other so precisely that the joints
between them were barely visible. The roof of the tunnel was three times
as high as it had been in the lower reaches of the tunnel, perfectly
domed and proportioned. The walls and the curved roof were of
beautifully dressed blue granite blocks, keyed into each other with
marvelous precision and symmetry. The whole was a masterpiece of the
mason's art, majestic and portentous. There was both a promise and a
menace in this vestibule to the unknown. Its simplicity and lack of
ornamentation made it even more impressive.
Royan tugged softly at Nicholas's hand and together they stepped on to
the first tread of the stairway. It was carpeted with a fine layer of
dust, soft and white as talcum powder. The dust rose in soft eddies and
wisps around their knees and then subsided as they passed on upwards. It
muted the harsh glare of the electric lamp that Nicholas carried high in
his right hand.
Gradually, as they went on upwards, the top of the staircase came into
view ahead of them. Royan dug her fingernails into the palm of
Nicholas's hand as she saw what lay ahead. The staircase ended on
another level landing, across which a rectangular doorway faced them.
They stepped up on to the landing and stood before the doorway. Neither
of them had words to express this supreme moment: they stood in silence
for what seemed like an eternity, holding each other's hand with a
fierce and possessive grip.
Finally Nicholas tore his eyes off the gateway, and looked down at
Royan. He saw his own feelings mirrored in her face, her eyes shone as
though lit from within by an incandescent passion. There was no other
person alive with whom he would wish to share this moment. He wanted it
to last for ever.
She turned her head and looked at him. They stared deeply and solemnly
into each other's eyes. Both of them were aware that this was a high
tide in their lives, one that could never be repeated. She tightened her
grip on his hand, and looked back to the doorway facing them. It had
been plastered over with white river clay, a surface that had mellowed
to the shade of ivory. There was no crack or blemish in its smooth
expanse, like the flawless skin of a beautiful virgin.
Their eyes fastened avidly on the two embossed seals in the centre of
the expanse of white clay. The upper one was in the shape of the royal
cartouche, the rectangular knot surmounted by the scarab, the homed
beetle that signified the great circle of eternity.
Royan's lips formed the words as she read them from the hieroglyphics,
but she uttered no sound. "'The Almighty. The Divine. Ruler of the Upper
and Lower Kingdoms Egypt. Familiar of the god, Horus. Beloved of Osiris
and of Of Isis. Mamose, may he five for ever!"'
Below this magnificent royal seal was a smaller, simpler design in the
shape of a hawk, with one broken wing drooping across its barred breast,
and the legend: 7, Taita the slave, have obeyed your command, divine
Pharaoh." Underneath the maimed hawk was a single column of
hieroglyphics that spelled out the stem warning: "Stranger!
The gods are watching. Disturb the king's eternal rest at your peril!'
reaking the seals on the doorway was a momentous act, and despite the
fact that the time before the onset of the rains was fast running out,
neither of them was prepared to undertake it lightly.
They had to make every effort to keep permanent re ds cor of everything
they discovered, and to inflict as little damage as possible while
gaining access.
They spent one of their precious remaining days preparing for the
break-in to the tomb. Naturally, Nicholas's first concern was the
security of the tomb area. He asked Mek Nimmur to place an armed guard
on the causeway over the sink-hole in the approach tunnel, and access