Chapter Two
Driving by the bazaar of Khan el-Khalil, left practically unchanged since the 14th century, Amanda stared out at the vendors selling spices, perfumes, gold, silver, carpets, brass and copperware, leatherwork, glass, ceramics and mashrabiya. Brightly dyed Egyptian cotton was hung up and displayed along the road, and down the smaller streets, the scenes took on an ancient charm of life left untouched by modern society. Finally, they arrived at a green golf course that led to the Mena House, a luxurious hotel that overlooked the stunning Pyramids, and pulled up to the front door, coming to a halt.
Bell boys rushed forward to help. Amanda climbed out and entered the large lobby of the hotel, followed by William Landers, who waited beside her while Professor Maxwell made certain there were reserved rooms for all three, then arranged for the bags to be carried up.
Amanda agreed to meet both men for dinner in two hours and left them at the register's desk, taking the elevator up to her room on the third floor. She opened the door with her room key and entered a room facing an inner garden with a breath taking few of the tops of leafy palm trees and a lush garden below. Her bags were brought up and a tip sent the bellhop out the door.
Fixing a drink, she locked her bedroom door, turned on the bath water, and undressed. The whiskey and soda sloshed down her throat and into her stomach. She fixed a second drink, sipping on it, as she padded bare foot into the large bathroom and paused to gaze at her reflection in the mirror as it started to steam over. She leaned against the sink, suddenly feeling weak, and as she stared at her face, she saw what appeared to be either someone else standing behind her or a ghost.
"Not now," groaned Amanda.
Knowing what was happening to her, she concentrated on the image and caught her breath as her own face was reflected back in the likeness of what appeared to be a Celtic woman of Germanic descent, with braids and jewelry at her throat, including an ankh. Amanda had worn an ankh since she was a child, a gift from her father, and had lost it a week ago in New Mexico over the edge of a cliff, due to a bad clasp. It was strange seeing it again on the neck of the other woman. She reached up and actually felt the necklace around her neck.
"This is different. Things don't normally manifest out of thin air, "It's got to be jet lag." She rubbed her eyes, then used a towel to dry off the mirror, only to return to find the same face peering back at her. The necklace remained around her neck.
"Calista," said a man's voice from out of the steam.
Amanda shivered as behind her in the mirror, appeared a manly form, that of an Egyptian high priest, bald, bare chested, muscular, adorned with a golden amulet about his neck. A pair of intense hazel eyes met her own. Eyes that in the thick mist she identified with Dr. William Landers, yet she knew it was not him.
"Imhotep," she whispered, convinced she was hallucinating on the scented bath salts in the water. The man smiled as his hands descended upon her bare shoulders. She felt him touching her and trembled. Too afraid to turn around and confirm it was only a hallucination, she continued to gaze into the mirror as the high priest, twice destroyed by her uncle and father, wanting to witness the strange phenomena firsthand. She was ready and receptive as the priest pulled her into his arms in a full embrace and kissed her deeply. When he drew back, Amanda found herself holding onto the sink for support, with the high priest standing directly behind her.
"It is I, Imhotep, your lord and master. Come to me."
Imhotep spread out his cloak and revealed within its folds the scene of a inner sanctum, a small chamber painted with scenes of the gods, and containing an altar made out of black onyx.
"The Altar of Truth," he said, in the tongue of his ancester's, a language, taught to Amanda by her father when she was a child. He waved his hand and the lid of the altar slid back, revealing a hidden chamber within. He motioned for her to look inside. She did as commanded and stared down at an enormous round diamond centered on the end of a marble scepter. Within its crystalized depths burned a bright blue light and as she stared into it, feeling her eyelids grow heavy with sleep, she felt Imhotep's hand fall onto her shoulder, warm and real.
"What is it?" Imhotep asked, as though speaking to someone else in the room, momentarily distracted.
Amanda felt the room suddenly began to spin. She watched the phantom Imhotep trying to catch hold of her as the room spun faster around her, then everything went black.
Later, she awoke on a wet floor to find the afternoon turned into evening, feeling stiff and sore. As pushed herself onto her knees, the door to the bathroom was kicked open by Dr. Landers. Gregory Maxwell hovered in the background with a housemaid. She suddenly screamed and grabbed the nearest towel to cover her nude body. Landers stared at her with a concerned look on his handsome face. Her eyes widened as she realized that without the hair, his was the exact face that she'd seen in the mirror. He stepped forward and pointed out what resembled fingerprints on her arms.
"I heard you cry out and came just as soon as I could get a maid to open the door. What happened?"
"I guess I fainted. I must have jet lag."
Landers turned off the water at the tub, opened the drain, and dropped several towels on the damp floor. With a hand to her elbow, he helped her sit on the edge of the toilet. She reached up to her throat, remembering the necklace, but didn't feel it. Of course it wasn't there, she thought. She'd lost the ankh in New Mexico. Landers walked away from her and glanced at his reflection in the mirror, before drying his hands on a towel.
"You are lucky I walked by your door when I did and heard you cry out. It took a few minutes to find a maid to open your door. I didn't think the hotel would approve if I broke down the door." "I'm fine now. You can go on down to dinner. I'll join you a bit later."
"Do you need a physician? You look very pale."
"No. I'm fine. Really. All I need is a bath."
Landers helped Amanda to her feet. She felt the necklace around her neck, but didn't bother telling him about what had happened. He looked so much like Imhotep that she found herself staring at him, unable to look away from his handsome face.
"If you faint again, you'll drown," said Landers. "I should stay." He put his arm around her shoulders and helped her over to the bathtub. She disengaged his arm and held onto her towel as she pushed him back.
"I can manage just fine alone."
"Very well. If you insist." Landers backed out of the room. "I'll wait for you in the other room. Shout if you need me."
"I will. I promise."
Landers paused to watch Amanda step into the water. She caught him looking and pulled the curtain shut. Water sloshed over the sides of the tub. A towel was thrown over the rod above. Landers backed out of the water on the floor.
"If plan to stay, make yourself useful and wash my back," said Amanda. She laughed to hear Landers cough, amused she's embarrassed him, then heard him hurry out of the room and close the door. She sank into the tepid water and spent the next thirty minutes meditating to calm her nerves.
By the time she'd dressed in formal wear for dinner, Amanda was anxious to get the truth from Landers and try to piece together what was happening around her. But the moment she saw him waiting for her, she could think of nothing else but the warmth in his eyes. She walked with assurance down the stairs on Landers' arm, appreciative of his kindness. Landers looked splendid in a white shirt opened enough to reveal a hairy chest and dark slacks that clung to his muscular thighs. She caught him staring at her and knew by the way he proudly led her into the restaurant that he she'd brought along the right dress to wear.
The maitre de led them to an intimate booth in the corner. Nearby played a small trio of musicians playing traditional Egyptian music. Waiters buzzed about the tables pouring champagne. Two glasses were placed on their table.
"To success," said Amanda, lifting her glass to tap against Landers' glass. "To success," replied Landers. They drank at the same time and stared across the table at one another in a flirtatious manner.
Landers suddenly laughed.
"Has it anything to do with your remarkable reputation for using memories of your past reincarnated lives to find lost artifacts?"
"It's only gossip, Dr. Landers. No one can remember all of their lives. Not even me. You make me sound like a diviner."
Landers lit up a cigar. She was not a smoker yet the odor was pleasant and as she breathed in the smoke through her nose as it drifted across the table, she felt light headed and suddenly quite at ease with his question. She wanted to tell him everything. She wanted to trust him.
"But you do remember some of your lives? A very rare trait in anyone, the very least it should mean to you is, that you are not alone. I believe I was reincarnated as well."
Amanda hadn't known this about him. "Do you see visions, of past events, that play back in your mind like scenes from an old movie you vaguely remember? My aunt says she was Princess Neferteri. I was a Roman general, an English knight, and fought in a number of wars, like the Civil War. I was also a Hopi Indian shaman. There have been others.
He spread out his hands wide. "Tell me. The most memorable. The one life that stands out for all the others."
"I was an Egyptian slave, of Germanic descent. It was her face that I saw tonight."
Landers grabbed his champagne glass and drained it. He looked so excited and hopeful, Amanda felt as if she'd won him over. He had been so different on the plane. He'd been snobbish and boorish, at the least. However, now it was a real pleasure to be in his company. He seemed so interested in her. And his hazel eyes were so hypnotic. She stared into their depths and absent-mindedly toyed with the ankh about her neck. Suddenly, she found herself lowering her gaze to his, as if he'd willed her to do so, and thought of Imhotep.
"I'm certainly getting my monies worth," said Landers. She looked up, the mood broken by his hunger for money. "The Smithsonian's Board of Directors is going to have to increase my salary after I deliver to them the Orb of Osiris."
"I never said anything about an orb."
"What you've said has encouraged me. You really are quite a remarkable woman." Landers smiled as he reached out to pat her hand. Then his long fingers curled around her own, leaving no doubt in her mind that he was somehow linked to the Egyptian high priest. "Was their no romance in your life? To have lived so many lives as a warrior, one would think you prefer war to love. You either have the instincts of a true hunter or continue to repeat the same mistake. You cannot find glory in war. But you can enjoy the taste of victory in other ways."
"Like a fine meal," she said, trying to change the topic.
"With a beautiful woman," he added, playing along.
Amanda blushed. "Thank you. I have to admit something." He looked excited. "I was wrong about you. You're not at all like I thought you were. I thought it was all about the money and fame, but you're not like that at all. You really do care about your work, and people."
The waiter appeared at the table, right on queue, to take their order. The menu was in Egyptian, Amanda quickly noticed, with no English translation. She'd thought she'd be rusty in that area, but immediately, she read the menu without difficulty. Around her with a bit of concentration, she was able to translate without effort. When asked by the waiter for her order, she started to say what she wanted, then stopped, and on instinct, pretended to need the assistance of Landers. He ordered for them both and assumed the role of dominant male with ease.
"Can you smell it?" Asked Amanda, closing her eyes and breathing in from her nose, not at all meaning the odor of food. "Cairo. There's no place like it in the world."
"You are glad you came with me?" He asked huskily.
Amanda caught his eyes and melted inside. He was so incredibly handsome. She wanted to trust him. "Of course. This is an adventure of a lifetime."
"But yet you are worried?" His smile was expressive.
"A little. You see, ever since I was a small child, I have had visions of a certain time and place that were stronger than any other others in Egypt. I thought it was because of all the stories told to me by my aunt. I always had an over active imagination. Sometimes I actually think I have an ability, but I try not to depend upon it too much. Or talk about it. I have been criticized before for talking about...the visions."
"I believe in you," said Landers.
"Thank you. I appreciate that." She was flattered.
"Perhaps your visions will grow stronger when we reach our camp outside of Karnak. It is near the Temple of Osiris. Hopefully, the man I left in charge was able to keep the workers digging. He is French. He doesn't like Americans very much, and he likes me least of all."
Smiling, Amanda took a sip of champagne and casually glanced over at the entrance right as several Egyptians entered. She wouldn't have thought anything, except each had tatoos on their faces, alerting her to another figure behind them. The same young man from the airplane joined them and blatantly looked when a companion pointed across the room, straight at Amanda. She shrank down in the booth and knocked knees with Landers. He followed her gaze and watched with keen interest as the group of blue robed Egyptians went to their table, across the room.
"Pay no attention to them. If they cause any trouble, I will have them thrown out. I want to know what happened tonight, Amanda? Exactly. As your employer, I demand to know."
"Can't this wait until morning? I'm rather tired."
"Understand, I am anxious to find a certain artifact that is very rare. I have invested time and money in you, Amanda," Landers studied her thoughtfully. "As a friend, I want you to feel like you can confide in me. I do hope we can be friends."
"I'd like that," she said, meaning it."
Landers paused long enough to take the menu from the waiter and gaze across the table at Amanda in a sensual manner that made her shiver in her dress from head to toe. "Then tell me about the vision you had this afternoon?"
"A high priest of Osiris showed me where a device of some kind is hidden. I can't tell you what the scepter is, because I have never seen it before." Amanda grimaced when he grabbed a napkin and started to draw something. "You're taking this far too seriously, Dr. Landers. I told you before. Just because I think I saw something, doesn't mean I did. I'd really rather start reading the references to the item you want, which by the way, you never told me what I was looking for."
"I intend to," said Landers. He drew a pen out of his pocket and started to draw a picture on a napkin. Amanda watched him briefly, then looked up as Maxwell who suddenly appeared at the entrance, followed close carrying several books under his arm. Amanda watched him move through the tables, scurrying like a rat and suddenly felt suspicion creeping up her back like a vine and turned back to Landers. He chewed on his cigar at the side of his mouth as he finished his project and pushed the napkin toward Amanda. She gazed down at the very staff she'd seen in her vision.
"Is this it?" Asked Landers.
She nodded. "Exactly. How did you know?"
"I didn't. It was a hunch. It's what I'm after." Landers reached for the napkin but she was quicker and pulled it away from her. She studied it while he spoke. "This is the Orb of Osiris. This is what we have come all this way to find."
"And if I can't find it?"
Landers' eyes narrowed to slits. "How do you account for your uncanny ability to find great archaeological discoveries? You found the Gold Mask of the Aztec Prince, the Black Cross of Cortez, and two pueblos in New Mexico in the last year, along with a Thracian ship in the Dead Sea, filled with Celtic artifacts from ancient Germanica."
"Yes. I have had a few successes and made a name for myself."
But I also let my father down. He counted on me finding the lost gold of the Templar Knights, and I failed. The press ate him alive."
Landers blew smoke upwards, his eyes registering a mysterious gleam. "Which is why I'm paying you a small fortune to find the Orb of Osiris. I have no doubt that once we arrive at the temple, that you'll merely pluck it out of the sand."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that. I have faith in you."
Amanda heard the sincerity in his voice which was stronger than her doubts against him, and while she liked receiving compliments from William Landers, she wanted something else. His respect. But that wasn't it either, she thought. It was much more, and it was dangerous.
"Don't worry, Dr. Landers. I'll find your Orb."
"That's my girl."
"But I know Egypt. You forget that I lived her for ten years with my father. We need protection. You can't keep something like this quiet. Others know about the Orb. We can't be too careful."
Landers rolled his eyes and puffed on his cigar, eyeing the Egyptians across the room, who looked right back, boldly. "And you think guns simply grow on trees, Professor Shaw? I have everything you need waiting at the camp. Everything is under control, so why don't you simply trust me. There is no need to worry."
"Maybe," said Amanda. "Maybe I don't have to wait." She recognized an Englishman seated at a nearby table. "You know, I just had an idea. Wait right here. This won't take long."
"Where are you going?"
"To the tree, Dr. Landers. To the tree."
The moment Maxwell sat down, Amanda was already up and walking across the room toward an Englishman in his fifties and his much younger female companion. She caught the Englishman's eye and smiled in a friendly fashion, causing him to squint his eyes behind his bifocals and take a hard look at her. He finally recognized her by the time she reached the table and stood to shake her hand, then offered her an available seat. She sat down and nodded at the woman.
"It's been a long time, Sir Spencer. I didn't think you'd recognize me."
The Englishman pushed back a wisp of grey hair off his forehead. "You look exactly like your father. You have his eyes." His own eyes were blurry and red from too much drink. His breath reeked of wine, as did his female companion's, who on closer inspection by Amanda appeared to be a paid escort. "How is old Jonathan doing? Still digging up bones and gold trinkets, is he? Or spending his days strolling the lane with his hound?"
"My father is doing very well. He lives outside of London. He does have a dog and he goes walking probably every day. He occasionally joins my Uncle Rick and cousin, Alex, whenever they have a new excavation, myself included, however, I haven't seen him in the last two years. I have been....busy. My cousin usually keeps us both briefed on what the other is doing."
"And your mother? How is Debra? Still gorgeous?"
"Absolutely. She is remarried to a doctor and lives in Napa Valley. And how is your wife? Still in the dark?" Amanda peered at him intently. She remembered Sir Spencer Hampton very well, of course, not as well as her mother who had managed to sleep with a host of men while married to her father, and for which she'd never forgiven her.
"Unfortunately, my wife and I have separated. However, on a cheerier note, please send my best wishes to your parents."
"I will," said Amanda, "but that's not why I'm here, Spencer. Not for a chat. I need something from you. You are still with the British Consulate?"
Spencer nodded. He glanced at his companion, not wanting her to hear, and rudely placed his hand in her face, pushing it so she faced the musicians. He leaned toward Amanda, his hand suddenly finding its way on her knee, and leered at her. "What can I do for you, dear girl? You have but to ask. Maybe tonight is my lucky night."
"Well, I do want to pay you."
His eyebrows shot upwards. He cleared his throat and had to take a quick drink. He completely misunderstood what she wanted. She carefully removed his hand from her knee.
"I'm going on a dig, Spencer, and I need a few weapons. You have helped my father and his brother-in-law in the past. I'm sure they left gear with you. Get what I need and I'll come to you. You name the time and price."
Spencer reached into his pocket, removed a small handgun, hid it under a napkin, and slipped it across the table to her. "That's all I have," he muttered, angry at having been interrupted for such a reason. "Take it and go. It's for free."
"I'll need a lot more, along with my father's old kit, if you still are storing it." Amanda reached in between her breasts and removed a wad of bills that she hid under the same napkin, then pushed back toward Spencer. "You know what I want for the type of expedition my family is notoriously known for. Arm me well, Spencer, and maybe there will be a bit extra in it for you. Are you staying here for the night?" He nodded, embarrassed she knew him so well that she'd anticipated he'd gotten a room for himself and his companion for the night. "Room number?"
"213." He held up his key. She shoved his hand down.
"I'll meet you at your room in one hour. I'll be discreet. I'll use my mother's secret knock. Just be there when with the gear in one hour."
"I'll have everything," said Spencer. "I am, after all, at your service, Professor Carnahan."
"It's Shaw. It's my married name. Goodnight, Sir Spencer."
Amanda nodded at him and placed the gun in her hand, keeping it pressed closely to her stomach, then returned to her table, under a disapproving glare from both Landers and Maxwell. She slid into the booth, pulled her plate toward her and quietly ate. Maxwell and Landers glanced at one another, curious, then back to Amanda.
"Well?" asked Landers, removing a bottle of white wine from an icy silver bucket and pouring her a glass. "Do you want to tell me what that was all about? How do you know that man?"
"Jealous?" asked Amanda. She noticed a glint in his eyes. She shivered. "You have no need to worry. Trust me."
"Perhaps. Again I ask, who was he?"
An old friend of my mother's. In fact, they were lovers. I can't see how though. He is such a parasite."
"Who was the girl he was with?" asked Professor Maxwell, between bites of bread and sips of wine. "She's attractive. Egyptian, I think, too. She's far too young for him though. Perhaps she is his daughter?"
"And you lived in Cairo? Recently? If this means I don't need to worry, Dr. Landers, then Maxwell is more resourceful than he appears."
"She's an escort," whispered Landers to his assistant. He nodded when Maxwell looked surprised. "He spends most of his time in the library."
"Obviously."
Amanda carefully pulled up her skirt and placed the gun under the silk stocking at her inner thigh, quickly adjusting the clips at her garter, before noticing Landers was watching every move. She tugged down the hem of her dress over her long, tan legs and leaned back, only to have her knees come into immediate contact with Landers' legs. He scooted closer to her, done with his meal, a class of wine in his hand, his eyes for her alone.
"We should discuss the expedition. In private," said Landers. Amanda nearly bolted as Landers placed his hand on her thigh. He massaged her leg as he addressed his assistant. She soon lost interest in her dinner. "As soon as you finished your meal, Maxwell, you should get to bed early. We have a long journey ahead of us. We will be riding camels to the site, so, try not to drink too much tonight."
"Yes, sir," replied Maxwell, with a nod.
Amanda realized she was about to get the opportunity to be alone with Landers. She pushed her plate back, polished off the rest of her glass of wine and with a smile, slipped out of the booth. "I'm ready. Let's go."
"After you," said Landers.