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Authors: LUCY GORDON,

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‘So who
is
in the Giza Necropolis?’ Freya asked.

‘Khentkaus the First,’ Amos said.

‘Who was he?’

‘Not he—she,’ Jackson said. ‘We don’t know very much about her—even who she really was. There are a thousand stories that she was the daughter of one pharaoh and the wife of another—maybe two others. She might have reigned in her own right—or maybe not. Or perhaps she was the mother of two pharaohs and the regent of one. All we know for sure is that she must have been someone important for her tomb to be located here, among kings. Apart from that she’s a woman of mystery.’

‘I thought Cleopatra was the great woman of mystery,’ Freya observed.

‘In a sense,’ Jackson agreed. ‘But we know so much about Cleopatra that there’s less mystery to enjoy. Khentkaus hides behind a fog of ambiguity.’

‘Ah, yes, that sounds far more fun,’ Freya agreed.

‘Definitely.’

They shared a nod.

‘Time we were going,’ Larry said.

Of the journey out to the Giza Necropolis she gazed, entranced, out of the window.

‘Where’s Khentkaus?’ she asked.

‘Her pyramid is just a ruin,’ Jackson said. ‘There’s very little to see. We’ll do a final shoot today and bid her goodbye.’

No sooner had they arrived than Larry summoned Jackson, saying, ‘We’ve got a problem.’

‘He doesn’t look pleased,’ Freya observed, for Larry’s face bore signs of intense exasperation. ‘Have you offended him?’

‘You bet I have,’ Jackson said. ‘I made some changes to the script we’re shooting. I often do that, and it makes him mad.’

‘I shouldn’t think the scriptwriter’s too pleased either.’

‘No, but he’s a wise man. He just keeps quiet and does what the boss tells him.’

‘The boss being Larry?’

‘Officially...’

‘And unofficially?’

Jackson grinned. ‘What do you think?’

‘That’s the spirit,’ Amos declared, delighted.

‘I guess I’m not your son for nothing,’ Jackson said. ‘But I sometimes have to make a show of deferring to Larry, just to keep the peace. From the way he’s holding up that script and thumping it, this may be one of those times.’

He went over to Larry. The others watched, fascinated to see what would happen next, but they were disappointed when both men walked away and disappeared behind some stones.

‘That’s a pity,’ Freya said. ‘It could have been fun.’

‘Jackson will win,’ Debra predicted. ‘He always does. He likes to change the words and even direct the research. And if he doesn’t get what he wants there’s trouble.’

‘There they are,’ Freya said, pointing.

Larry and Jackson had reappeared, still arguing. The listeners could make out most of the words.

‘It’s just that I can’t see it that way,’ Larry was saying. ‘The original idea—’

‘The original idea was full of holes, and it’s got to be put right.’ Jackson jabbed at something in the script. ‘I can’t say that. It doesn’t make sense. I’ve told you what I’m going to say instead.’

‘If you can get Pete to agree.’

Pete was the scriptwriter.

‘No,
you’ll
do that. Just tell him everything’s been decided.’

‘And has it?’

‘You know it has.’ Jackson’s grin made him charming, although his words were implacable. ‘C’mon, we’ve sorted it now. I’m not going to stand up before the camera and say something I don’t agree with, so that’s it. It’s all settled.’

Jackson returned to their side.

‘Larry’s agreed to the script change. I had to admit I’d been in two minds about it at first—’

‘That was bad,’ Amos said quickly. ‘You shouldn’t have admitted that.’

‘Well, it didn’t do any harm. He’s even going to arrange some extra shots to illustrate what I’m going to say.’

‘Good. You did well. Mind you, you took too long. You should have been firmer from the start. Then he’d have capitulated sooner.’

‘And there would have been a lot of bad feeling,’ Jackson said. ‘I work with these people. I don’t want bad feeling. It’s better my way.’

Amos shook his head.

‘You still have something to learn about standing up to people. For one thing, you should never tell them anything they might use against you. Never let them suspect a weakness. But you’ll learn. Wait till you reach my age.’

‘I’m not sure I’ll ever reach your age. Freya will have strangled me long before that. Right—time to get to work.’

Before leaving he gave Freya a significant look that she understood at once. He was reminding her of their talk in the dawn, of how troubled he was by this side of him although he couldn’t help making use of it. She offered him a smile of reassurance and he gave her a brief nod.

Everything went well after that. Despite his firm stand Jackson still managed to stay on good terms with the others. She watched him with interest, fascinated by his expertise as he led the cameras over the ruins of Khentkaus’ tomb and delivered a eulogy.

‘After thousands of years,’ he said, ‘there are still many questions. How many of her children took the throne? How many of her descendants walk the world today? Truly she was a woman of mystery, and the mystery lingers even now. Will those questions ever be answered? Probably not. Like many a woman of mystery, she prefers to keep her secrets to herself.’

He gave the smile that had done so much to win him an audience of eager fans.

‘But one day—who knows?—perhaps she will choose to open her heart to us.’

‘Cut!’ Larry yelled. ‘That’s great. All right, everyone. Time to go.’

* * *

Dinner that night was cheerful. Debra even made a jokey comment about the argument she and Freya had witnessed.

‘You won, then?’ she teased Jackson.

‘Of course,’ Jackson declared, raising his glass in Larry’s direction.

‘It’s got something to do with him being a Falcon,’ Larry said, ‘and there being a falcon god. I had to make use of that.’

‘I think it’s a great idea,’ Freya said.

‘Of course. After all, your own name is an invitation all by itself.’

‘My name?’ she echoed, puzzled.

Larry regarded her quizzically. ‘Don’t say you don’t know?’

‘Know what?’

‘That you’re a goddess?’

‘Oh, come on—’

‘No—really. Freya comes from Norse mythology. She’s associated with fertility and she rides a chariot pulled by two cats. You actually didn’t know you’re a goddess?’

‘No, and I don’t believe it. Mum—?’ Freya turned to Janine. ‘Surely not.’

‘It’s possible. Your father chose your name. He was fascinated by mythology, and he said he’d found it in a book, but that was all. It might be true.’

‘There’s another thing,’ Larry said, clearly enjoying every moment. ‘The great goddess Freya wears a cloak of falcon feathers, so in a way you’re a falcon too.’

Amos gave a crack of laughter. ‘How about that? You’ve been a Falcon all the time.’

‘Hardly,’ Freya said. ‘I think it takes a bit more than wearing a cloak.’

‘You’d better watch out, Dad,’ Jackson said. ‘You’ve met your match.’ He raised his glass to Freya. ‘I salute you.’

Amos immediately did the same, and everyone joined in.

‘You should do a programme about her,’ Amos asserted.

‘And perhaps Khentkaus as well,’ Larry agreed. ‘I remember once hearing somebody say that the most interesting crimes were committed by women.’

More laughter—except from Freya, whose face grew suddenly darker. But nobody seemed to notice except perhaps Jackson, who became suddenly intent on clinking glasses with everyone near him. Except Freya.

When it was time to retire Freya accompanied Amos and Janine to their room and made sure Amos was comfortable. Returning to her own room, she went outside onto the balcony to take a last look at the pyramids glowing against the night.

‘Are you all right?’

Jackson’s voice, coming from a few feet away, startled her. She could just make him out on his own balcony, standing quietly in the darkness.

‘I—I didn’t know you were there,’ she stammered.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you. I was just a little concerned in case you were upset. You went quiet very suddenly at dinner, and I think I knew why. It was what Larry said about women committing the most interesting crimes. I suddenly remembered Dan saying the same thing. It came out of a book he’d read.’

‘Yes, he talked to me about it. It just reminded me of him. But it’s nothing.’

‘Nothing? It was like he’d suddenly appeared in front of you and you were shattered.’

‘No, I wasn’t. Just a little surprised. But he doesn’t trouble me any more.’

‘I’d be glad to believe that, but I worry about you.’

‘Don’t. Dan isn’t part of my life any more.’ She assumed a dramatic air. ‘Freya the goddess waved her magic wand and he ceased to exist. That’s how powerful she is.’

‘If only life could be that simple. We all have things we’d like to wipe out as though they’d never happened, but the more we want to be rid of them the more they seem to haunt us.’

Freya shook her head firmly. ‘I’m not haunted. I don’t let that happen.’

‘And Freya the goddess is in complete control, eh?’

‘Yes. You’d be surprised how powerful she is.’

‘I’m not sure that I really would be surprised. I think you keep a lot up your sleeve, Freya.’

‘I do these days—now that I’ve discovered how much other people keep up their sleeves.’

‘Was that aimed at me?’

‘Not really. No, it was more aimed at Dan.’

‘So he really is still there, isn’t he? I wonder—’

‘It’s late,’ she interrupted him. ‘I think I’ll go to bed. Goodnight, Jackson.’

‘Goodnight, Freya. Sleep peacefully.’

But he knew that he himself would be denied peace that night.

After trying without success to fall asleep, he rose from his bed and switched on his computer. A few clicks and he had what he sought.

There she was, Freya the glorious goddess, a magnificent being who carried in her train not only fertility but also beauty, war and death. One artist’s impression had managed to catch all those hints.

‘You’d really have to be wary of
her
,’ Jackson murmured aloud. ‘Because there’s so much more in her than you’d ever dream at first. And you’d know only what she chose to reveal.’

He stared intently at the face on the screen, wishing that it was another face and he could reach out to it.

‘A true woman of mystery...’ he said.

CHAPTER SEVEN

F
ROM
G
IZA
TO
Edfu it was nearly two hundred miles. Once the coaches had started their journey Freya spent much of the time studying a book on Horus that Amos had bought in the hotel.

One of the greatest deities of ancient Egypt,
whose influence stretched over three thousand years...

He’d been born to the goddess Isis when she had rescued the dismembered body parts of her murdered husband, Osiris, and used her magical powers to conceive despite Osiris’ death.

Horus was the god of the sky and incorporated both the sun and the moon in his own being: his right eye the sun and his left eye the moon. But that wasn’t the full extent of his power. He was known also as the god of war and hunting. Rumour even said that the pharaohs had been incarnations of Horus in human form.

Amos was sitting beside her, glancing at the book over her shoulder.

‘And I’ll tell you something else,’ he said. ‘Horus had four sons.’

‘You’re kidding me!’

‘Fact! It’s true—isn’t it, Larry?’

Larry, whose seat faced them, was enjoying this.

‘True,’ he said. ‘It makes you think Amos must be the real thing after all.’

‘But of
course
I’m the real thing,’ Amos declared. ‘How could you doubt it?’

There was just enough of a twinkle in his eye to show that he was joking.

Halfway through the journey they stopped for lunch. Jackson looked for Freya, meaning to sit beside her at the table, but Larry got there first, immediately engaging her in laughing conversation. To his dismay he noticed that Larry was showing signs of being a fervent admirer, which Freya seemed to enjoy. It worried him because he knew Larry was a man any sensible woman would refuse to take seriously.

When it was time to get back into the coach for the last lap Debra parked herself very firmly next to Jackson, while Larry drew Freya to sit beside himself.

‘You’re Jackson’s sister, aren’t you?’ he said.

‘His stepsister. My mother is married to his father. There’s no blood relation between us.’

‘I was wondering of you knew the truth about the story that’s been whispered about him for the last few years.’

‘What story?’

‘Something about one of the early TV documentaries he did. It was right at the start of his career and he had an explosive row with the producer. Nobody seems to know the details, but he dug his heels in so hard that he never worked for that firm again.’

‘But how come people don’t know more about it?’

‘Because the firm won’t talk about it and Jackson won’t talk about it.’

‘You mean it’s a scandal?’

‘I’ve no idea, but it certainly sounds as though Jackson’s grim, unyielding side was in evidence. He mostly keeps it under wraps, but sometimes he can’t. It makes you wonder if there was a Horus the Younger as well as Horus the Elder. Ah, who cares? He’s a huge success in front of the cameras.’

‘And what else matters?’

They shook hands triumphantly. Neither of them noticed Jackson, looking back at them from a few seats away.

Soon they were all keeping watch through the windows for the first sight of Edfu, a smallish city on the left bank of the Nile.

Freya liked it as soon as they arrived. There were cars, as befitted a modern city, but the roads were also filled with carts drawn by horses, giving the place a friendly air.

They were booked into a small hotel next to the river, with rooms overlooking the water. Here too she had a balcony, but Jackson wasn’t next door. Her neighbours were Amos and Janine—which, she told herself, she should be glad of.

Drifting out onto the balcony, she found Janine looking down at the street.

‘I’m glad you’re close to me,’ Janine said. ‘I really need you.’

‘Is Amos being more difficult than usual?’

‘You’ve seen how he is: he’s really enjoying this. But there’s something else—something I can’t define.’

‘Is he still giving you funny looks?’

‘Yes, but there’s more—a new atmosphere that’s never been there before. He keeps asking me what I think about things. In the past he hardly ever asked my opinion. It’s almost as though he’s lost confidence.’

‘Him?’ Freya echoed sceptically. ‘I haven’t seen that.’

‘No, it only happens when he’s with me. Others see only the Amos who’s always convinced he’s right. But there’s another Amos, and for some reason he’s not so sure of himself. I get glimpses of him, but then he hides away again.’

‘I remember you saying that he’s more vulnerable than anyone suspects.’

‘Hush, keep your voice down. He must never know I said that.’

‘Perhaps it would be good for him to know.’

‘Amos couldn’t cope with the knowledge that anyone thought him vulnerable. Let’s go down and have something to eat.’

Downstairs they found a stall selling books about Edfu in several languages for tourists. Amos snapped up three and plunged into them at the table.

‘It says here,’ he declared, ‘that the Temple to Horus is the most completely preserved temple remaining in Egypt. They must have realised how much it matters.’

He switched to a page containing a photograph of the temple taken from the air.

‘It’s huge,’ Freya breathed. ‘All those sections—the Festival Hall, New Year Chapel, Hall of Offerings, Sanctuary of Horus.’

‘And look at those shapes carved into the wall,’ Janine said. ‘What are they?’

‘The one on the left is a king,’ Amos explained. ‘The one closest to him is Horus, and the one standing behind him is the goddess Hathor—Horus’ woman. The small one is their little son, Ihy. The King is making an offering to them, to show his respect.’

‘Of course,’ Jackson said. ‘His power was immense and his influence spread over centuries. Meeting him is going to be really something.’

‘Yes,’ Amos said. ‘Oh, yes.’

Amos said little for the rest of the meal, but the smile stayed on his face. When Freya suggested an early night to prepare him for the demands of the following day he made no objection.

‘Good idea,’ Jackson said.

‘What about you?’ she ventured to ask.

‘No chance of an early night for any of us. Too much work still to do.’ He laid a hand on her shoulder. ‘Get some sleep. Tomorrow will probably tire you.’

She nodded and patted his hand. They had reached their comfort zone again.

* * *

Next morning everything was forgotten except the excitement that awaited them. As soon as the coach started Amos produced one of the books he’d bought the night before and went carefully through it, noting all the places to see— especially the Hypostyle Hall, where a statue of Horus was to be found.

‘I thought he was a man with a falcon’s head,’ Freya said, looking over Amos’s shoulder at a picture in the book. ‘That just looks like a bird.’

‘That’s how he’s represented in statues,’ Jackson said. ‘Just as a bird—like the model I brought home, except a lot bigger. But in the temple you’ll see etchings of him on the walls, and in those he’s a man with a falcon’s head.’

When they reached the temple they headed for the spot and found what they were looking for.

‘Get a load of that!’ Larry breathed, staring up at the falcon-shaped statue which loomed over them a good twenty feet.

‘I hadn’t expected it to be so big,’ Freya murmured.

‘But of course,’ Amos said. ‘He has to be majestic.’

They moved on to where there were pictures carved into the wall and found the one they had seen in the book, in which Horus was receiving tribute from royalty. As Jackson had said, here he was a man with a falcon’s head. Behind him stood the goddess Hathor, a beautiful woman with a magnificent headdress. Around her neck she wore an elaborate necklace.

‘She was known as the cow goddess,’ Jackson explained. ‘She has a woman’s face, but those two curving horns you can see on her head are a version of cow’s horns. The orb between them represents the world.’

‘She too was great and glorious,’ Amos observed. ‘She embodied motherhood, feminine love and happiness.’

‘And she was his wife?’ Freya said.

‘That’s right,’ Amos said, taking Janine’s hand in his. ‘The most valuable wife and goddess a deity ever had. He gave her that necklace, you know, to show how much he valued her.’

He inclined his head towards Janine. She smiled back, looking a little surprised. Amos’s words might almost be described as sentimental—an unusual departure for him.

Jackson too was looking surprised, and he said, ‘Actually, it’s not that simple. In some legends she was his wife, but in some she was his mother.’

‘I thought Isis was his mother,’ Freya said.

‘It depends whether you’re talking about Horus the Elder or Horus the Younger.’

‘There really were two?’ Freya queried.

‘Father and son. That’s the fascinating thing about the ancient Egyptians. They could believe and understand several versions of a legend at once.’

‘Good for them,’ Amos said. ‘There’s nothing more useful than being able to manipulate the facts—without being too obvious about it, of course.’

‘I don’t dare ask what you mean by that,’ Jackson said, grinning. ‘But I’m sure the markets would be interested.’

Amos gave a cackle and slapped his son on the shoulder.

‘Horus the Elder and Horus the Younger,’ he said. ‘What a splendid idea!’

After that he had the time of his life exploring the temple.

‘It’s really going well,’ Jackson said, falling into step with Freya on their way back to the coach. ‘Amos doesn’t seem at all weak any more.’

‘You’re right. I think I may be able to return home soon.’

‘Don’t be in a rush. You should be having a good time out here.’

‘No, I’m just getting in the way of your work. You’ll be glad when I’m gone.’

‘I’ll be glad when I’m not being snubbed by you for no reason,’ he said wryly. ‘I thought we were friends again?’

‘We are. I’m not snubbing you. I have an important reason for needing to get home.’

‘I see. Should I be happy for you?’

‘No,’ she said vaguely. ‘It’s nothing like that.’

‘You mean it’s not another guy?’

‘I mean it’s nothing I’m prepared to talk about.’

‘But it’s important?’

‘Yes.’

She hurried away, leaving Jackson staring after her, wishing he could sort his brain out one way or the other. But with Freya that was increasingly difficult.

And he was beginning to fear that it wasn’t his brain that caused the problems.

* * *

For some reason Freya couldn’t quite enter into the spirit of the evening when they all met downstairs for supper. She chatted with Amos, encouraging his triumphant mood at the memory of his encounter with Horus, and she reassured Janine that all was well with her husband. But as the evening drew on she knew that something was missing between them.

Tommy, Larry’s irritating second-in-command, was at his liveliest and most tiresome, flirting madly with every female in the group and finally announcing his intention of kissing each of them, one by one.

The others smiled with pleasure at the thought, but Freya shied away.

‘I’m leaving,’ she said.

‘Oh, you’re not going now, are you?’ Tommy said, confronting her as she rose. ‘Just one little kiss.’

‘Not me. Please get out of my way.’

‘The others were nice about it. Why can’t
you
be nice?’

‘I’m not nice,’ she told him coldly. ‘And if you don’t stand aside I’ll make you regret it.’

But Tommy obviously didn’t believe her. He lunged. She ducked, but not in time to avoid him. His lips brushed over hers, lightly, but enough to horrify her and to make Jackson furious.

‘That’s enough,’ he said, seizing Tommy in a fierce grip. ‘Get out before I make you sorry.’

‘Ah, c’mon, it’s just a joke. Freya understands—don’t you, Freya? Freya? Where’s she gone?’

Where Freya had stood a moment earlier there was only a space.

‘She ran out through that door,’ Larry said.

‘I’ll get you for this,’ Jackson snapped at Tommy.

‘OK, OK...no need to get violent.’

‘There’s every need. But I’ll deal with you later.’

He ran out of the door, looking right and left. There was no sign of Freya, but the door to the street was half open. Frantically he dashed through it, and saw her on the far side of the road.

‘Freya!’ he yelled. She stopped and looked back at him. ‘Come back here,
now.

He couldn’t tell if she’d heard him above the noise of the street, but she turned away and plunged down a side street, vanishing at once. Jackson darted across the road, causing cars to stop abruptly and horns to blare. He didn’t hear them. All his attention was taken up by the chase and his fear of losing her. He ran down the road she’d taken and just saw her at the other end before she vanished behind a building.

An alarming sense of
déjà vu
overtook him. Once before he’d chased someone down side streets, losing him in the distance. The result had been a catastrophe. Driven by desperation, he raced to the far end, just in time to catch a glimpse of her before she vanished again. He tore on and this time luck was with him, for she’d run into a dead end and he caught her as she turned back.

‘You crazy woman!’ he cried, seizing hold of her. ‘Of all the daft things to do! Suppose you’d got lost in these streets? How would you have found your way back? Stupid!
Stupid!

‘I’ll come back when I’m ready,’ she said. ‘Just let me go!’

‘Not in a million years,’ he snapped, tightening his grip.

‘I said, let me go.’

‘And I said no. Do you want to make a fight of it here in the street?’

‘If I have to.’

A noise from behind Jackson made them both freeze and turn to see a policeman. He’d plainly heard them speaking, for he addressed them in careful English.

‘You don’t treat a woman like that,’ he said. ‘I arrest you.’

Freya drew a sharp breath. ‘No,’ she said. ‘There is no need.’

‘This man attacked you.’

‘No—it’s a misunderstanding.’

‘You do not mind that he attacked you?’

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