evoke from his aging body were less intense.
Utte had her recording equipment set up before her on the table. It was
part of her multifarious duties to keep, accurate and complete records
of every meeting and conversation. Then von Schiller looked past these
two trusted employees to the two other men standing at the table.
Colonel Nogo he had met for the first time that morning, as he stepped
down from the Jet Ranger helicopter that had flown them down from Addis
Ababa to the base camp here on the summit of the escarpment of the Nile
gorge. He knew very little about him, except that Helm had selected him,
and was so far satisfied with his performance. Von Schiller himself was
not equally impressed. There had already been some bungling. Nogo had
allowed Quenton Harper and the Egyptian woman to slip through his
clutches. After a lifetime of operating in Africa, von Schiller placed
little trust or store in blacks and preferred to work with Europeans.
However, he realized that for the time being Nogo's services were
indispensable.
He was, after all, the military commander of the southern Gojam. No
doubt once he had served his purpose he could be taken care of Helm
would see to that. He would not have to bother himself with the details.
Von Schiller looked now at the last man at the table. Here was another
who was indispensable for the time being. Nahoot Guddabi was the one who
had brought the existence of the seventh scroll to his attention.
Apparently some English author had written a fictionalized version of
the scrolls, but von Schiller never read fiction of any sort, either in
German or in any of the four foreign languages in which he was fluent.
Without Nahoot bringing the existence of the Taita scrolls to his
notice, he might have overlooked this opportunity of his lifetime.
The Egyptian had come to him as soon as the original translation of the
scrolls had been completed by Duraid Al Simma, and the existence of an
unrecorded Pharaoh and his tomb had been mooted. Since then they had
been in constant contact, and when the time.came that Al Simma and his
wife had started to make too much headway with their investigations, von
Schiller had employed Nahoot to get rid of them and to bring the seventh
scroll to him.
The scroll was now the shining star of his collection, safely housed
with his other ancient treasures in the steel and concrete vaults below
the Schloss in the mountains that was his private retreat, his Eagle's
Nest.
Despite this, the choice of Nahoot to under-take the more sensitive work
of ridding him of Al Simma and his wife had proved to be a mistake. He
should have.. sent a professional to take care of them, but Nahoot had
argued that he was capable of seeing it through, and he had been well
paid for the work that he had mismanaged so ineptly.
He "too would be disposable in time, but right now von Schiller still
needed him.
There was no question that Nahoot's understanding of Egyptology and
hieroglyphics was far in advance of von Schiller's own. After all,
Nahoot had spent most of his life studying them, while von Schiller was
an amateur and only a comparatively recent enthusiast. Nahoot was able
to read the scrolls and this new material that they had acquired as
though they were letters from a friend, whereas von Schiller was obliged
to puzzle over each symbol and resort frequently to his reference books.
Even then, he was not capable of picking up the finer nuances of meaning
in the text.
Without Nahoot's assistance he could not hope to solve the riddles which
confronted him in the search for Mamose's tomb.
This was the team who were now assembled beneath him, waiting for him to
start the proceedings. "Sit down, please, Fr5ulein Kemper," he said at
last. "You too, gentlemen. Let us get started."
Von Schiller remained standing on his block at the head of the table. He
enjoyed the feeling of superior height.
His short stature had been a source of humiliation ever since his
school-days when he had been nicknamed Tippa' by his peers.
"Fr-dulein Kemper will be recording everything which is said here this
afternoon. She will also issue each of you with a folder of documents
which she will collect from you again at the end of this meeting. I want
to make it very clear that none of this material will ever leave this
room.
It is of the most confidential nature, and belongs to me alone. I will
take a most stringent view of any breach of this instruction."
As Utte handed out the folders, von Schiller looked at each recipient in
turn. His expression made it clear what the penalty would be for any
contravention of his instructions.
Then von Schiller opened the dossier that lay on the tabletop in front
of him. He stood over it, leaning forward on his bunched fists.
"In your folders you will find copies of the Polaroid photographs that
were recovered from Quenton-Harper's camp. Please look at these now."
Each of them opened their own folder.
"Since our arrival Dr Nahoot has had an opportunity to study these, and
he is of the opinion that they are genuine, and that the stele in the
photographs is an authentic artefect of ancient Egyptian origin, almost
certainly dating from the Second Intermediate Period, circa 1790 BC. Is
there anything you wish to add to that, Doctor?"
"Thank you Herr von Schiller." Nahoot smiled eaginously, but his dark
eyes weren nervous. There was something cold and dispassionate about the
old German that terrified him. He had displayed ro emotion whatsoever as
he ordered Nahoot to arrange the death of Duraid Al Simma and his wife.
Nahoot knew that he would be equally unmoved if he were- to order
Nahoot's own murder. He realized that he was riding the tiger's back. "I
would just like to qualify that statement. I said that the stele
pictured in these prints appeared to be genuine. Of course I would not
be able to give you a definite opinion until I was able to examine the
actual stone at first hand."
"I note your qualificatioq," von Schiller nodded, "and we are assembled
here to find the means to obtain the stele for your examination and
verdict." He picked up the glossy print that Utte had made from the
original that morning in the laboratory darkroom in the adjoining hut.
Photography was not the least of her many talents and skills and she had
done a very competent job. The copies of the Polaroids that Helm had
transmitted to him in Hamburg had been blurred and distorted, but still
they had been sufficient to bring him rushing across the continents in
all this haste. Now he held these clear likenesses in full colour, and
his excitement threatened to suffocate him.
While they were all silent, he caressed the print as lovingly as if it
had been the actual object that it portrayed.
If this were genuine, as he knew instinctively that it was, then it
alone would be well worth the considerable cost in time and money and
human life that he had already paid.
It was a marvelous treas
ure, to match even the original seventh scroll
which was already in his collection. The condition and state of
preservation of the stele after four thousand years seemed to be
extraordinary. He lusted for it as he had for few things in his long
life. It required an effort to set aside this pervasive longing, and to
apply his mind to the task ahead of him.
If, however, the stele is genuine, Doctor, can you tell us, or rather,
can you suggest to us where it may be situated, and where we should
direct our search?"
"I believe that we should not consider the stele in isolation, Herr von
Schiller. We should look at the other Polaroids that Colonel Nogo was
able to recover for us, and which Frdulein Kemper has so ingeniously
copied." Nahoot set aside the one print and selected another from the
pile in the folder in front of him. "This one, for example."
The others riffled through their own folders and selected the same print
as he was displaying.
"If you study the background of this copy, you will see that in the
shadows behind the stele there appears to be the wall of some type of
cave or cavern." He looked up at von Schiller, who nodded encouragement.
"There also appears to be some type of barred doorway."Nahoot set the
print aside and selected another. "Now, see here. This is a photograph
taken of another subject. It is, I believe, of a mural decoration
painted upon either a plastered wall or the bare rock of a cave,
possibly an excavated tomb, It seems to have been taken through the
grille of the gate which I pointed out to you in the first photograph of
the stele. This mural is almost certainly Egyptian in style and
influence. In fact it very strongly reminds me of those murals that
decorated the tomb of Queen Lostris in Upper Egypt in which the original
Taita scrolls were uncovered."
"Yes. Yes. Go only' von Schiller encouraged him.
"Very well, then. Using the barred gate as the connecting factor, there
is every reason to believe that both stele and murals are located in the
same cave or tomb
"If that is so, what indications do we have as to where Quenton-Harper
photographed these Polaroids7' Von still frowning angrily as he looked
at each of Schiller was jl them in turn. They all tried to avoid his
blue, penetrating scrutiny.
Colonel Nogo," von Schiller singled him out, "this is your country, You
know the terrain intimately. Let's hear our thoughts on the subject."
Colonel Nogo shook his head. "This man, this Egyptian-' he used the
epithet disparagingly, "is mistaken. This is not an Egyptian tomb in the
photographs."
"Why do you say that?" Nahoot challenged him angrily.
"What do you know about Egyptology? I have spent twenty five years-I
"Wait," von Schiller silenced him peremptorily. "Let him finish." He
looked at Nogo. "Go on, colonel."
"I agree that I don't know anything about Egyptian tombs, but these
photographs were taken in a Christian church."
"What makes you so sure? Nahoot demanded bitterly, his authority
challenged.
"Let me explain to you that I was ordained as a priest fifteen years
ago. Later, I became disillusioned with Christianity and all other
religions, and left the Church to may believe become a soldier. I tell
you this so that you that I know what I am talking about." He smiled
with ilious malice at Nahoot, before going on. "Look at superc and you
will be able to make out on this first print again, the wall in the
background, near the corner of the grille gate, the outline of a human
hand and the stylized picture mbols of the Coptic Church. You can see
-of a fish. Those are sy see them reproduced in any church or cathedral
in the land." Each of them peered at their own copy of the same of them
ventured an opinion until von print, but none Schiller had given his,
"You are right," von Schiller said softly. "There is, as you say, the
hand and the fish."
"But I assure you the hieroglyphics on the stele and the murals and the
wooden coffin are all Egyptian," Nahoot . "I would stake my life on it."
defended himself stoutly Nogo shook his head, and began to argue. "I
know what I am saying-'
Von Schiller held up his hand to silence them both while he considered
the problem. At last he came to some decision.
"Colonel Nogo, show me on the satellite photograph the site of
Quenton-Harper's camp where you obtained these Polaroids-'
Nogo stood up, and came around the table to stand beside von Schiller.
He leaned over the atellite photograph and prodded his forefinger at the
spot near where the Dandera river joined the Nile. The photograph had
once been in the possession of Quenton Harper, and had been captured in
the raid on his camp. There were numerous markings in coloured marker
pen on the copy, which Nogo presumed had been placed there by the
Englishman.
"It was here, sir. You can see that Quenton-Harper has marked the spot
with a green circle."
"Now show me where the nearest Coptic church is situated."
"Why, Herr von Schiller, it's right here. Again Quenton-Harper has
marked it with red ink. It is situated only a mile from the campsite.
The monastery of St. Frumentius."
"There is your answer, then." Von Schiller was still frowning "Coptic
and Egyptian symbols together. The monastery."
They stared at him, none of them daring to question his conclusion.
"I want that monastery searched," he said softly. "I want every room and
your men in there?"
"Of course, Herr von Schiller. I already have one of my reliable men in
the monastery - one of the monks is in my pay. Added to that, there is
still martial law in force here in Gojam. I am the military commander. I
am fully mpowered to search for rebels and dissidents and bandits
wherever I suspect they may be sheltering."
"Will your men enter a church to perform their duty?" Helm wanted to
know. "Do you personally have any religious scruples? It may be
necessary to - how can I put it desecrate hallowed premises."
I have already'explained to you that I have renounced religion for other
more worldly beliefs. I would take pleasure in destroying such
superstitious and dangerous symbols as will certainly be found in the
monastery of St. Frumentius. As for my men, I will select only Moslems
or Animists who are hostile to the cross, and all it stands for.
I will lead them personally. I assure you that there will be no
difficulty in that respect."
"How will you explain this to your superiors in Addis Ababa? I do not
want to be associated in any way with your actions at the monastery,'
von Schiller said.
I have been ordered by the high command in Addis to take all possible
steps against the dissident rebels that are operating in the Abbay
gorge. I will be completely able to justify any search of the
monastery."
"I want that stele. I want it at any cost. Do you understand me,
colonel?"
i under
stand you perfectly, Herr von Schiller."
"As you already know, I am a generous man to those who serve me well.
Bring it to me in good condition and you will be well rewarded. You may
call on Mr Helm for any assistance that he can give you, including the
use of Pegasus equipment and personnel."
"If we are able to use your helicopter, it will save a great deal of
time. I can take my men there tomorrow, and if the stone is in the
monastery I will be able to deliver it to you by tomorrow evening."
"Excellent. You will take Dr Guddabi with you. He must search the area
for other valuables and translate any inscriptions or engravings that
you find in the monastery.
Please provide him with military uniform. He must appear to be one of
your troopers. I do not want to become involved in recriminations at a
later date."
"We will leave as soon as it is light enough to take off tomorrow
morning. I will commence the arrangements immediately." Turna Nogo
saluted von Schiller and strode eagerly from the hut.
hough Colonel Nogo had never entered either the qiddist or the maqdas,
he had often visited the monastery of St. Frumentius. He was therefore
fully aware of the magnitude of the task ahead of him, and the likely
reaction of the monks and the congregation to his forced entry to their
premises. In addition, he was familiar with numerous similar rock
cathedrals in other parts of the country. In fact he had been ordained
in the famous cathedral of Lalibelela, so he knew just how labyrinthine
one of these subterranean warrens could be.
He estimated that he would need at least twenty men to secure and search
the monastery, and to fend off the outraged retaliation of the abbot and
his monks. He selected his best men personally. None of them was
squeamish.
Two hours before dawn he paraded them within the security of the Pegasus
compound, under the glare of the floodlights, and briefed them
carefully. At the end of the briefing he made each man step from the
ranks in turn and recite his orders to ensure there was no
misunderstanding.
Then he inspected their arms and equipment meticulously.
Tuma Nogo was painfully conscious of his own culpability in allowing the
Englishman and the Egyptian woman to escape, and he could sense the
danger in Herr von Schiller's attitude towards him. He had few illusions