He broke away from the group in the doorway and ran wildly across the
chamber. Gripping the bars of the gate in his clenched fists, he peered
between them like a prisoner sentenced to life imprisonment.
'This is the tomb. Bring the light! His voice was a high-pitched and
frantic scream.
Nogo ran to join him, brushing past the damaskcovered tabot stone. He
shone the torch through the bars of the gate.
'By the sweet compassion of God, and the eternal breath of his Prophet,'
Nahoot's voice sank from a scream to a whisper, 'these are the murals of
the ancient scribe.
This is the work of the slave Taita.' As Royan had done, he recognized
the style and the execution immediately.
Taita's brush was so distinctive, and his talent had outlasted the ages.
'Open this gate!' Nahoot's tone rose again, becoming strident and
impatient
'Here, you men!' Nogo responded, and they crowded around the ancient
structure, trying at first to rip it from the cavern wall by main
strength. Almost at once it became apparent that this was a futile
effort, and Nogo stopped them.
'Search the monks' quarters!' he ordered his lieutenant. 'Find me tools
to do the job.'
The junior officer hurried from the chamber, taking most of the troopers
with him. Nogo turned from the gate and studied the rest of the interior
of the maqdas.
The stele!' he rasped. 'Herr von Schiller wants the stone above
everything else.' He played the torch beam, around the chamber. 'From
what angle was the Polaroid taken-'
He broke Off abruptly, and held the light on the damask-covered tabot
stone,- on which the velvet-cloaked tabernacle stood.
'Yes,' cried Nahoot at his shoulder. 'That is it.'
Tuma Nogo crossed to the pillar with half a dozen strides and seized the
gold-tasselled border of the tabernacle cloth. He pulled it away. The
tabernacle was a simple chest carved from olive wood, glowing with the
patina that priestly hands had imparted to the wood over the centuries.
'Primitive superstitions,' Nogo muttered contemptuously and, picking it
up in both hands, hurled it against the cavern wall. The wood splintered
and the lid of the chest burst open. A stack of inscribed clay tablets
spilled out on to the cavern paving slabs, but neither Nogo nor Nahoot
took any notice of these sacred items.
'Uncover it,' Nahoot encouraged him. 'Uncover the stone.'
Nogo tugged at the corner of the damask cloth, but it caught on the
angle of the pillar beneath it. Impatiently he heaved at it with all his
strength, and the old and rotten material tore with a soft ripping
sound.
Taita's stone testament, the carved stele, was revealed.
Even Nogo was impressed by the discovery. He backed away from it with
the torn covering cloth in his hand.
'It is the stone in the photograph,' he whispered. 'This is what Herr
von Schiller ordered us to find. We are rich men., His words of avarice
