clasped over the the great medallion. The fingers were long and
sensitive, each of them loaded with circle after circle of magnificent
rings. Clasped in his dead hands were the flail and sceptre of majesty,
and Nahoot exulted when they saw them.
'The symbols of kingship. Proof on proof that this is Mamose the Eighth,
ruler of the Upper and Lower Kingdoms of ancient Egypt.'
He moved up to the king's still veiled head, but von Schiller stopped
him. 'Leave that until last!' he ordered. 'I am not yet ready to look
upon the face of Pharaoh.'
So Nahoot and Reeper transferred their attention to the king's lower
body. As they lifted away each layer of linen, so were revealed scores
of amulets that the embalmers had placed beneath the bandages as charms
to protect the dead man. They were of gold and carved jewels and ceramic
in glowing colours and marvelous shapes - all the birds of the air and
the creatures of the land and the fish of the Nile waters. They
photographed each amulet in situ before working it free and placing it
into a numbered slot in the trays that had been set out upon the
workbench.
Pharaoh's feet were as small and delicate as his hands, and each toe was
laden with precious rings. Only his head was still covered, and both men
looked enquiringly at von Schiller. 'It is very late, Herr von
Schiller,' Reeper said, if you wish to rest-'
'Continue!' he ordered brusquely. So they moved up each side of the
mummy's head, while von Schiller on remained on his stand between them.
Gradually the king's face was exposed to the light, for the first time
in nearly four thousand years. His hair was thin and wispy, still red
with the henna dye he had used in his lifetime. His skin had been cured
with aromatic resins until it was hard as polished amber. His nose was
thin and beaked. His lips were drawn back in a soft, almost dreamy smile
which exposed the gap in his front teeth.
The resin coated his eyelashes, so that they seemed wet with tears and
the lids only half-shut. Life seemed to gleam there still, and only when
von Schiller leaned closer did he realize that the light in those
ancient sockets was the reflection from the white porcelain discs that
the undertakers had placed in the empty sockets during the embalming.
On his brow the Pharaoh wore the sacred uraeus crown. Every detail of
the cobra head was still perfect, There was no wearing or abrading of
the soft metal. The I serpent fangs were sharp and recurved, and the
long forked tongue curled between them. The eyes were of shining blue
glass. On the band of gold beneath the hooded asp was engraved the royal
cartouche of Mamose.
'I want that crown.' Von Schiller's voice was choking with passion.
'Remove it, so that I can hold it in my own hands.'
'We may not be able to lift it without damaging the head of the royal
mummy,' Nahoot protested.
'Do not argue with me. Do as I tell you.'
'Immediately, Herr von Schiller,' Nahoot capitulated.
'But it will take time to free it. If Herr von Schiller wishes to rest
now, we will inform you when we have loosened the crown and have it
ready for you.'
