Those Who Live in Grass Houses

The Other Tomb

The Other Tomb

Yes, this was the Valley of the Kings, but everyone was agreed that all the tombs had been found now. So Egyptologist, Henry Gardner, was there merely to pay a measure of respect to the great ones who had gone before him. Meaning the archaeologists, of course, not the kings themselves. It was a bit too late for any gesture of honour toward them.

So when Henry’s toe stubbed a stone as he plodded across the floor of the valley in the oppressive heat, he thought little of it. But it was just enough to make him turn in curiosity to see what had nearly sent him sprawling from his reverie.

It was a sharp edge of stone, ruler straight, that emerged from the sand for a few inches, before disappearing under the surface again. That straightness did not look natural.

Henry turned back for a closer look. He brushed more of the sand away with his foot. The straight edge continued for several more inches. Henry bent down and began to dig with his fingers into the sand, deepening the dip before the vertical face of the stone. At the same time, he worked on the edges, widening the exposed area to prevent sand falling in from the sides.

The vertical section continued downward and then stopped abruptly at a horizontal surface of rock. Henry was working quickly now, shoving great handfuls of sand out of the hole as he followed the stone’s profile. He had not gone much further when he came upon another sharp edge, this time pointing downward again. He knew now what he had found.

It was a flight of stone steps leading down into the ground.

To where? he thought. Or what? It couldn’t be a tomb, surely, not out here in the open on the valley floor. All the tombs were in the cliffs that ringed this depression in the desert.

As he continued deeper, it became a matter indisputable. These were steps leading down into the ground, presumably to an underground chamber of some sort. If not a tomb, it must surely have some connection to the other tombs in the valley.

He stopped and considered what to do. Strictly speaking, he should inform the authorities and then try to get permission to arrange a dig for the site. But he did not know yet what he had found. It might just be a storage room of some kind or even a practice tunnel for the stonemasons to learn their trade. Before he entered the web of bureaucracy that surrounded archaeology these days, he needed to know it was going to be worth it.

He hurried back to his camp, grabbed a shovel and called his cook and bearer to assist him. Back at the site, the work progressed at great speed as the afternoon wore on toward night.

As the last light crept into the tunnel they had exposed, they reached the end. They stood at a flat stone preventing further progress. The typical caulking around the edges showed where the stone fitted into the space prepared for it. The original stonemason’s emblems were pressed into the now hardened seal. It looked as though the tomb was untouched by robbers.

Henry was now convinced that it had to be a tomb. Why seal anything else with an official seal? Dreams of spectacular finds within swept through Henry’s mind and he cast aside all caution. Grabbing a shovel, he began to work away at the seal, digging it out of the crevice to loosen the stone.

When he’d finished breaking the seal, he inserted the shovel into the crack and levered at the stone to turn it. Incredibly, it moved and, with the other two helping him, Henry began to walk it slowly back, rocking it from side to side, millimetre by millimetre, until there was a gap between stone and wall at one side. Then they pulled at it with brute force and it moved just enough to create an opening large enough to squeeze inside.

Henry forced his way in and then, with trembling hand, switched on his flashlight.

The tomb contained nothing but a small box, hardly bigger than a shoebox, on a low pedestal in the middle of an empty room. The box was wooden and Henry knew better than to touch it. Most likely it would crumble into dust with the slightest disturbance.

With disappointment yawning in his belly, Henry turned the flashlight to the walls. On the back wall there were some hieroglyphs. He went closer and tried to remember all the symbols. It read, as closely as Henry could decipher it:

Here lies Tiddles, the honoured and most heavenly cat of the pharaoh Imhotep, on whom be praise and glory.

--ooOoo--

House Martell

Word count: 795
For "Game of Thrones"  Stolen Artifacts Prompt 9
Prompt: A treasure hunter finds a tomb buried beneath the dirt.