Kathlyn Trent, Marcus Burton 01 - Valley of the Shadow (2 page)

"I'm so sorry," she said quickly. "Here, let me take care of it. I told them to wait until you told us where to set up."

He looked down at her, ready to bite her head off, but was softened by her big green eyes. He wanted to get mad but couldn't. 

"Tell them to pitch up over on the other side of the mess tent, to the left," he grumbled. Turning on his heel, he stormed off, leaving Kathlyn standing in his dust. Her gaze lingered on Burton as she sent Mark to coordinate their camp. She could hear Mark trying to use his Americanized Spanish on the Egyptians, who looked at him as if he was from another planet. He laughed at their confusion and lapsed into his spotty Arabic.

"My God," Juliana came up beside her. "Have you ever...?"

"Once," Kathlyn’s gaze was on the seat of Burton's Levi's. "But I thought I dreamed him."

"He's no dream."

"No… but he’s the hottest guy I’ve ever seen."

“Did you get a look at those eyes?”

Kathlyn lifted a slow, perhaps interested, eyebrow. “Dark blue,” she muttered. “And that body…”

“He must be a weightlifter. Did you see the size of his arms?”

“Spectacular.”

"How can such a hunky guy be such an ass?"

"Practice." Kathlyn turned back to McGrath, the charm back in her voice. "We'll finish unloading on the other side of the mess tent.  Thanks again, so much. I'm very excited about this."

McGrath was in her spell. "It's us who are excited, Dr. Trent. Your reputation is well known."

She cocked a well-arched eyebrow. "As a charlatan and a sell-out? I can tell that Dr. Burton is absolutely thrilled with my presence."

McGrath's smile faded. "Find his tomb and he won't have anything to complain about."

Kathlyn's green eyes drifted over the stark gold-colored cliffs that comprised the Valley of the Kings.  She was acutely aware of a heady sense of timelessness. It was the first time she had ever been to Egypt and she could see, instantly, what had allured men for thousands of years. There was History everywhere, but more than that, she could sense great dreams and hopes of a civilization that had lasted thousands of years. And here she was, hired to desecrate a king's eternal rest.

"Waset," she murmured. "Isn't that what the ancients used to call this place?"

McGrath nodded. "The Theban Necropolis," he said. "Actually, this is the West Valley.  The East Valley, which you passed the entrance to on your way in, is the main valley with the major finds. The Arabs call this valley Wadi el-Gurud, or the Valley of the Apes because of the baboons depicted on Ay's tomb. There are only five tombs in this valley."

"I'd be interested to know why Burton thinks his tomb is located here."

"We'll go over that once you've settled in."

Kathlyn stood there a moment, seemingly absorbed in the scenery. McGrath thought it was a bit peculiar the way Dr. Maurer stared at her as if waiting for her to burp lightning or fall into fits at any moment. It was an apprehensive, curious kind of stare. Finally, Kathlyn seemed to snap out of whatever trance the valley seemed to hold her in and smiled her farewell to McGrath.  He watched her, in that old beat-up duster, as she moved to where her people were setting up camp.

Over near his side of the camp, Burton was watching her too. McGrath caught a glimpse of him before he disappeared into his tent.

***

It was evening before everything in Kathlyn's camp was established.

There were fourteen of them in all; besides her, Juliana and Mark, there was Otis Dison, a blond, all-American project architect who looked ten years younger than his fifty years. There was also Ed Cutro, the project engineer, who was affectionately called the ‘Undertaker’ because he was a bit creepy and dark. Cutro had a genius level I.Q. but the laziness of a sloth. Anything he didn't know off the top of his head, which wasn't much, was usually a twenty-four hour research affair because Ed thought it beneath him to actually have to search things out.

Debra Jo Shulte was the communications and administrative expert, her bright red hair sorely out of place among the dark Egyptians. Finally, two doctoral students brought up the rear, Larry Dyche and Andy Sutton. They were tall, good-natured, and genuinely enthusiastic about their work and photographic and video experts. They could work every angle and do it in style. In all, Kathlyn had a crack, concise scientific team and she liked it that way.

They traveled with a variety of drivers who, naturally, called themselves the Roadies. There were six. Including the Supreme Council for Antiquities personnel, there was a total of twenty-five people invading the peace and organization of Burton's camp. It was no small wonder that the man wasn't happy.

Dinner was a feast of bread, lentils, a cabbage and meat soup, although Kathryn didn't ask what kind of meat, and various other native offerings. Burton and his boys ate by themselves, while Kathlyn found herself the center of McGrath's attention.  He wanted to know all about her exploits and particularly what she had planned for the future.  She was never cautious of talking about future plans, mostly because nobody in their right mind would try to beat her to it or even believe her. In the heat and flies of the mess tent she explained her next lofty goal.

"The Ark of the Covenant?" McGrath repeated with awe. "Are you serious?"

"Absolutely," she said confidently. "This is no ‘Indiana Jones’ adventure, trust me. I'm not the swashbuckling type. But I've got years of accumulated data and a genuine belief in its location. I'm trying to get grant approval right now."

Mark was seated to her left; he scratched his black hair and snorted. "Don't you believe her, Dr. McGrath. She's a tough old bird. Swashbuckling or not, she'll kick butt from here to the Antarctic in the name of Archaeology. If she says she's going to locate the Ark, you can be sure she'll do it."

Kathlyn kicked him lightly in the shin. "Quiet, whipping boy. Just because you stand behind the rest of us while the action goes on."

"I'm the clean-up hitter."

The small crowd laughed at Mark's expense. Like the little brother in a big family, they were always picking on him because he was a good target. But he was exceptionally smart and Kathlyn and Juliana would have been lost without him.

"I'm very interested in your theories of the Ark," McGrath pressed on. "There must be hundreds of them out there."

"Literally," Kathlyn agreed. "The strongest theory is that it resides in a church in Ethiopia. I was leaning towards that, too, until I read an account from an amateur archaeologist who had been given permission to dig at the historical site of the Calvary Escarpment in the early nineteen eighties. He has a well photo-documented dig that suggests the Ark is buried under none other than Jerusalem itself. We've been working for years to get permits to do a follow up dig, just to see. It looks as if it will finally come to fruition in the next few months."

"Fascinating," McGrath said. "But what if you don't get approval from the Israelis?"

"Then we move on. There's always a contingency plan."

"Which is?"

"The tomb of Alexander the Great."

McGrath was surprised. "Not exactly Biblical Archaeology."

Kathlyn shook her head. "No, it's not, but as you know I don't necessarily stick to the field on my degree. Alexander is someone who has always fascinated me. I did a research paper on him."

"And?"

She smiled. "And, I still have more work to do, but it's very promising."

McGrath laughed with her, sensing it was one subject she wasn't ready to talk freely on. "So what about those photos of Noah's Ark you took?” he wanted to know. “Do you really believe you've found the ark?"

Kathlyn was quiet a moment, a faint smile on her lips. "I believe we found something," she said, glancing at Juliana and Mark. "There's something big and frozen in that gorge that looks suspiciously like a ship. It's the most incredible thing I've ever seen."

"Always going where angels fear to tread, aren't you?"

"Always."

Marcus suddenly rose from his seat. Without a word, he ducked out of the tent with Lynn and Dennis close behind. There was no way to graciously ignore his behavior, or know that he wasn't extremely displeased with what was going on. McGrath tried to apologize, but Kathlyn stopped him.

"I need to talk to him," she said quietly, all of the fun and bravado of storytelling out of her tone. "His problem is with me then I'm the only one who can solve it. We'd better do it here and now before the situation progresses any further."

McGrath nodded in agreement. "He's really not a bad guy, Dr. Trent,” he told her. “He's just very protective about his work and he's very logical about things. What you do, he just doesn't understand."

She smiled. "I know,” she said softly. “Most people don't. But I'm proud of the fact that I've made archaeology interesting to people who would otherwise care less.  We're in a television age and my way of doing things is a way of making everybody aware of our biblical, and non-biblical, history. Millions of viewers prove me right."

"With cable programs."

"Exactly,” she nodded vehemently. “The comment you made about my going where angels fear to tread is true. Do you think the average person wants to see a documentary on potsherds of the ancient Etruscans? Of course not. But you make advancement in the area of Noah's Ark, or the Holy Grail, or the tomb of Ramses VIII, and everybody suddenly becomes interested and more informed. Maybe they'll want to learn about the little things, too. It's my intention to get them as excited about history and archaeology as I am."

McGrath’s smile returned. "And using today's media makes sense. You're furthering education for those who wouldn't normally have access or interest in those things."

Kathlyn sensed that McGrath understood where she was coming from. He was a member of a very small group.

"Some people think I'm in it just for the celebrity status, but that's a crock,” she assured him. “It's not what it is cracked up to be and it has worked against me in the eyes of my colleagues. The bottom line is that I'm here to report about Mankind's recorded past in a media age." She winked at him. "If you can't bring the people to the museum, then bring the museum to the people."

"You do a good job of it."

"I try to."

Quietly, she left the tent in search of Burton.  McGrath hoped she could reason with him.

CHAPTER TWO

The Egyptian evening was something out of an Arabian Nights novel. The warm, balmy breeze was like the most gentle of caresses and the stars above were a cascade of diamonds against a velvet backdrop. Somewhere, the smell of sewage leaked into the air, spoiling the paradise-like atmosphere.

Kathlyn wandered from the mess tent across the encampment, listening to the sounds of the workers as they settled in for the night. Her gaze lingered on the sky; it was beautiful and peaceful, and she was glad that she had come in spite of her cool reception from Burton. Now she tried to work up her nerve to confront him.

There was a cluster of large tents off to her right, dimly lit. She could only assume that Burton was in one of them, but she was wrong. She came across Dr. Davis, who was cordial enough to offer to help her find Burton. He was obviously busy and she graciously declined, not wanting to be a bother. Lynn gave her directions to where he thought Burton might be and she thanked him for his assistance.

In the dark, she walked the half-mile distance to the Valley of the Kings. The mouth to the entrance of the valley was dark but for the silver shadows cast by the three quarter moon. It sliced across the hills like the brilliant blade of a knife.  Kathlyn walked the sloping path into the valley, surrounded by the sheer dark cliffs on either side. It was rather creepy and she came to a halt more than once, trying to make out shapes and shadows in the moonlight, but so far she had yet to see anything remotely human.  Wandering near an area she would later learn to be KV (for King's Valley) 25, she suddenly smelled the strong odor of cigar smoke.

"Dr. Burton?" she called softly.

She was met with silence. The cliffs were steep in the part of the valley, limiting the illumination from the moon glow. Phantoms were lurking in the shadows here. Taking as step forward, she again smelled the cigar smoke and a sense of uneasiness swept her. What if Burton wasn't back here at all? What if it was some cigar-smoking hooligan waiting for the opportunity to jump her?

Kathlyn thought it better not to take the chance. Turning around, she hadn't taken two steps when a hulking figure emerged from the darkness and she caught a glimpse of flaring tobacco embers.

"You're pretty brave to come back here by yourself," Burton said casually.

She was annoyed that he had stood back and watched her wander around like an idiot, but she kept her cool. She didn’t want to anger the man more than he evidently already was.

"No, it was stupid of me to come back here by myself, but I wanted to talk to you,” she said. “Dr. Davis said you were back here somewhere. I figured I had a fifty-fifty chance of either running into you or being mugged."

A big waft of tobacco smoke blew her direction.  She couldn't see him fighting off a smile in the dark. "So what do you want?" he asked coolly.

What did she want?  Scratching her head, she thought of a good answer. "I wanted to apologize for upsetting you, I suppose. I wanted to apologize for any illusions of sticking my nose into your dig.  I did not elect to come here; I was asked to. It was an arrangement between your university and mine and I had no say in it. Like you, I'm doing as I am told."

"I know that."

"I'm sure you do. But I wanted to clarify my position. I'm not here to overthrow you."

"I know."

"So why are you annoyed?"

"Who says I'm annoyed?"

He was a stubborn man; abrasive, too.  She shrugged her shoulders, her irritation growing. "It's obvious you're not happy with my presence. I assumed it was because...."

"Don't assume anything. You don't know me."

His hostility went overboard and she found herself on the defensive. "Whatever,” she snapped. “I just wanted to tell you that I'm here to do a job, and that's all. I'm not promising any results, though. I could just as easily walk away from here and you'd be just where you were when I arrived. I'm sorry if my presence upsets you, but I can't do anything about it and I'll do my best to be as little trouble as possible."

She started to walk away.  Burton took a big puff on his cigar. "You didn't tell me. How do you intend to find my tomb?"

She paused, watching him stroll toward her with a cigar hanging out of his mouth. "By looking at your data. And other things."

"What other things?"

She smiled thinly. "If I told you, then you wouldn't need me, would you?"

"I don't need you anyway."

Her smile vanished.  It was a cold thing to say and she couldn’t help her nasty retort because he deserved it.

.  "Somebody thinks you do,” she shot back deliberately, “otherwise, your university wouldn't have called me in to the rescue your floundering dig."

It was a stab at him. Burton took a couple of puffs off his cigar, apparently unruffled. "You aren’t an Egyptologist,” he blew smoke into the night air. “I’m not even really sure if you’re a real archaeologist. Hell, I don’t know what you are.”

The barbs were flying and Kathlyn wouldn’t back down; he was a bully and she wasn’t about to let him get away with it.

. “So is it my lack of experience in the auspicious field of Egyptology that you question, Dr. Burton?” she asked, nearly mocking him. “I can, in fact, read hieroglyphs and hieratic. Is it proof you seek that I actually know a thing or two about it? Then let’s start from the beginning, say, 3500 B.C. and beginning with the Pharaonic lineage of Scorpion, Ka, Ro, Narmer, Aha-Menes, Djer, Wadi, Dewen, Andjib, Semerkhet, Qa’a, Hetepsekhemwy, Reneb, Ninetjer. Should I continue?”

He wasn’t impressed. “Anyone can memorize that.”

“Then ask me a question.”

“I’m not going to waste my time.”             

“Afraid I’ll get the answer right?”

He blinked, very slowly, feeling his patience wane. She was cocky and he didn’t like it; she was becoming everything he ever imagined she was, queen bitch included. “All right,” he lowered the cigar. “Tell me something about the Thirteenth Dynasty if it’ll make you happy.”

She didn’t hesitate. “It was part of what was known as the Middle Kingdom, approximately 2061 B.C. through 1668 B.C., but specifically, the Thirteen Dynasty lasted from 1784 B.C. until 1668 B.C. and was comprised of approximately sixty five kings in a one hundred and sixteen year spread.  No specific kings have ever been identified, and nothing spectacular ever emerged from this period in Egyptian history.”

“You memorize out of textbooks very nicely.”

“Isn’t that part of what going to school is all about, learning what’s in your textbooks? The real trick comes in recalling it twelve years after you learned it.”

He puffed on his cigar. “I'll give you a couple of weeks," he finally said. "If you haven't found anything by then, I want you out of here. And if you turn my dig into a circus at any point during that time, I'll throw you out myself and to hell with the university. Is that clear?"

Kathlyn was so mad she could spit.  "Take it up with McGrath," she growled. "I'm not the one to make the decision either way."

She stormed from the valley, reliving the conversation over and over, becoming angrier by the moment. He really was a jerk. She knew Dr. Burton by reputation only and had been very excited for the opportunity to work with him. Now she was sorry she had agreed to come. The guy with the reputation for brilliant and meticulous work in the wake of his famous ancestor, pioneering Egyptologist and photographer Harry Burton, was really an egotistical megalomaniac.

Marching down the incline at the fork in the road where the east valley and west valley split off, she paused, her attention drawn to the more popular east valley.  Back in those dark hills was the most famous archaeological site of all. She turned toward it, knowing there would be security guards, hoping maybe she could charm her way past them and take a much anticipated look.  Surely all she would have to do is tell them she was with Burton's dig.  Maybe they’d even give her a tour.

The road leveled out in to a huge parking lot that was recently built to accommodate all of the tourist busses and there was a security shack to the southwest. Two guards were out front, smoking strong Arabian cigarettes and carting AK-47 rifles. She walked right for them.

Her Arabic was basically non-existent. Mark always did the talking and she found herself wishing she knew more basic words other than "bathroom" and "water".  She tried to indicate that she wanted to enter the valley, but the guards simply smiled leeringly at her.  The more she gestured and talked, the more she realized that she was back stepping as they were moving toward her.  It wasn't a good situation and she was suddenly very sorry she had taken the notion to come. Just as she was seriously considering turning and running, a big body suddenly leapt in front of her.

It was Burton. She could smell the cigar smoke on him. He barked something in Arabic at the two guards that sent them on the run.  Kathlyn barely had time to catch her breath before he turned to her, his cobalt blue eyes blazing.

"Lesson number one, Dr. Trent," he rumbled. "Never, ever travel anywhere alone. You were lucky in the west valley, but your luck won't hold out here. Those idiots wouldn't think twice before molesting you and using their guns in ways better left unsaid."

"Then I thank you for rescuing me," she said, her voice trembling. "I'm sorry to be such a bother."

"I had a feeling you were going to head this direction. Good thing I followed you."

"Thanks again."

He just stared at her. Uncomfortable, Kathlyn turned away from him and started back across the parking lot.

"Where are you going?" he called after her. "You risked your safety to see this place; you might as well come and see it."

"I'll wait until light," she said, not turning around.

Burton just stood there, watching her go. After a moment, he called out to her again. "Daylight will bring tons of tourists,” he said. “If you want to look at the valley without all that hassle, better do it now."

Kathlyn paused at the end of the parking lot. Turning around, she gazed at the distant figure of Burton.  She was about to tell him to buzz off but thought twice. Maybe he was right; it was fairly bright in the moonlight, and he was carrying a flashlight in his back pocket. Who better to give her a first-hand tour of the Valley of the Kings than Marcus Burton, and she very badly wanted to see it.

Without a word, she retraced her steps toward him.  Marcus pulled out a contraband copy of the gate key and slid it into the lock, pulling the gate back so she could slide in. The warm wind blew softly as he closed the gate behind them, relocked it, and switched on his flashlight. He moved forward and she followed.

Kathlyn had only seen the east Valley of the Kings from photographs.  She had never expected that her first true look at it would be in the dark with a man who loathed her very existence. She knew that the SCA was extremely protective of the site and for good reason, so it seemed odd that Burton not only had free roam of it, but also a key to the gate.  He had numerous permits to dig in the west valley, which she assumed gave him access to the entire ancient site.  Maybe the name Burton held more weight here than she had originally thought.

Burton suddenly pointed off to his right. "KV1. Tomb of Ramses VII."

All Kathlyn could see was a dark hole in the side of a mud-colored hill.  Burton flashed his light in that direction, but the beam wasn't strong enough for her to see anything.  They continued on, heading into a nest of tombs, and Burton began pointing in all directions.

"There's KV2, tomb of Ramses IV,” he said, not at all like the antagonistic man from a few moments ago, “and back in that direction are KV3, KV46, and KV4, at least two of those from the Ramesside dynasty."

Kathlyn paused, looking down the dark path and catching glimpses of the great stone barriers the Egyptians had built up over the tomb entrances.  She stood there a moment, still as stone, apparently in the same trance-like state McGrath had seen her in earlier. She looked, literally, frozen in place. Marcus noticed her stance, thinking after several long moments that she must have gone catatonic on him. It was a peculiar condition. He couldn't even tell if she was breathing.

"Burton," she finally said slowly. "Did it ever occur to you that with most of the Ramesside dynasty buried in the west valley that you're looking in the wrong place?"

"Um, yes," he said with heavy sarcasm. "But my data is solid. There are several reasons Ramses VIII didn't want his tomb here with his ancestors, not the most prevalent being that the rock faces to the northeast here are fairly unstable. And the way the ground slopes here at the mouth of the valley makes it more difficult to conceal an entrance."

“He didn’t have to build right here. He could be somewhere deeper in the valley.”

Marcus just shook his head. “Not a chance.”

She stared at him and he could literally see the wheels turning behind those big green eyes. She looked back down the narrow path that harbored three tombs.

"Who's buried down there?"

"Ramses III and Ramses XI."

"That's only two. You said there were three tombs down there."

"KV46 is very small and incomplete."

She nodded silently. Marcus continued on, walking slightly ahead of her, listening to the soft footfalls of her big work boots.  He actually felt a little uneasy with her behind him for some reason, though he couldn't put a finger on it. But to fall back and walk beside her would suggest he was somehow accepting her, which he wasn't. At one point she stopped and stared up the hill just past KV2 but said nothing about it. It was all part of her observations and she was, in general, very interested in the surroundings.