Part 40 (1/2)

”Certainly,” I said calmly. ”What method had you in mind? Dry squeezes or tracings?”

”Both,” said Emerson, his lips curving in an expression that hardly deserved to be called a smile. ”I want every scratch on those walls recorded. One technique may show details the other missed. After you have compared the two and made a master drawing, you will take it back into the tomb and check it against the wall itself. You may have Rene to a.s.sist you. Begin in room E and make sure you cover every inch of every wall.”

Room E was the burial chamber-the deepest, most remote, hottest part of the tomb.

”Certainly,” I said again. Emerson went off, smirking. While he was haranguing the men on how he wanted them to proceed, I took Abdullah aside.

”I don't know what he is up to, Abdullah, but he has just ordered me into the deepest and most distant part of the tomb, where I can't keep an eye on him. He has not said what he means to do, but I fear the worst. I rely on you, my friend. Watch him! Don't let him wander off alone.”

”Have no fear, Sitt. Since the last time he eluded us I have made sure someone watches over him even when he sleeps, or seems to sleep He will not escape us again.”

”Excellent. I trust you as I would myself.”

I was turning away when the old man said hesitatingly, ”Sitt Hakim . . .”

”Yes, Abdullah?”

”I would not have you think your safety is a lesser matter to us.”

”You need not tell me that, old friend,” I said warmly. ”You and I understand one another's hearts, I think. We both know that the Father of Curses is in greater need of protection than I, he is the bravest of men, but he does take foolish chances.” Adjusting my belt, I added, ”I can take care of myself.”

Abdullah's bearded lips quivered. ”Yes, Sitt. But I hope I do not offend if I say that as you trust in me, I trust in the rich American who is also your friend. He will not let harm come to you if he can prevent it.”

”Mr Vandergelt is a true friend,” I said. ”We are fortunate to have such loyal friends- and you chief among them, Abdullah.”

The courtesies and the dictates of affection having been satisfied, Abdullah set off in pursuit of Emerson and I found Rene and instructed him to gather our equipment.

Cyrus of course offered to a.s.sist me, but I could see he was not interested in such painstaking, plodding work- nor had he the training for it. When I a.s.sured him I would get on very well without him he did not insist. He already had his eye on a pile of debris across the wadi, near the place where other explorers, including Emerson, had found evidence of a possible tomb opening, and I could see he was itching to start digging.

Rene and I carried our rolls of paper and pencils down the long shafts and stairs, over the half-filled shaft (which had been bridged by planks) and down a short ramp into the burial chamber.

It was about thirty feet on either side (10.36 by 10.40 meters, to be precise) with two square pillars and a raised plinth that had once supported the sarcophagus. The floor was covered with hardened mud set solid as plaster. The surfaces of walls and pillars had been decorated with painted reliefs modeled on a layer of plaster which had been applied to the rock surface. Here, where the heretic's own body had rested, the full fury of his enemies had been expended. Most of the plaster was gone. However, some of the figures had been roughly delineated on the underlying rock before the plaster was applied, and these rude outlines still survived.

”We will start with the back wall,” I said to Rene. ”I at the right-hand corner, you at the left. Watch me first, I am sure you are familiar with the technique, but I have my own methods.”

The process of dry squeezing consists of pressing a thin sheet of paper over the carvings with the fingertips. Wet squeezes would of course give a more precise copy, but they often damaged the crumbling reliefs and removed the last traces of any remaining paint. The technique of rubbing should be self-explanatory, soft pencils and a steady, even pressure were necessary. It was hard on the arm and hand muscles to maintain this, especially when working on a perpendicular surface.

I will not elaborate on the working conditions. Imagine the hottest, dustiest, deadest, driest climate your mind can conceive, and double it, that will give some idea of what Rene and I endured that afternoon. I was determined to stick to it till I dropped and Rene was determined not to be outdone by a mere woman (though of course he knew better than to voice this sentiment aloud). For his sake rather than my own I decreed occasional breaks for rest, air, and refreshment. Copious consumption of water was essential to ward off dehydration. Each time we emerged my eyes sought Emerson. Each time he was in a different place- remeasuring a room Charlie had already measured, and telling him he had done it wrong, criticizing Abdullah for overlooking a sc.r.a.p of pottery in a crack in the floor, or hectoring the small work force he had a.s.signed to Cyrus. He left me and Rene strictly alone most of the afternoon, when he finally came thumping down the pa.s.sage, it was to tell us to stop for the day.

A faint moan came from Rene. I said, ”As soon as I finish this sheet of paper.”

Emerson picked up one of the rubbings I had completed and held it near the lamp. ”Hmph,” he said, and thumped off.

The valley was sunk in blue shadows when we emerged. Rene collapsed on the ledge, gasping. I handed him my canteen, the water was hot enough to have been used for tea, but it gave him strength enough to go on. I had to help him descend the slope, however.

”What luck?” I inquired of Cyrus, who was waiting below.

”Not much. Emerson insists we piqk through every confounded square inch of sand. At this rate it will take two weeks to reach bedrock. So far we have found a diorite maul, the kind the ancients used to break rock, and four pieces of pottery.” Cyrus wiped the perspiration from his brow with his sleeve and then blinked at me. ”But my poor dear girl- you look as if you have spent the day in a steam bath. You must be exhausted.”

”Not at all. A nice hot cup of tea and a nice warm cup of water with which to bathe my face, and I will be fully restored.”