a figure of 600,000 cubic yards.
Up to this point we had been working with fairly factual figures, but now we pushed off into an ocean of conjecture.
‘At least it’s not as bad as drawing a dinosaur from its footprints,’ Ral defended us, as we used the map of the foundations of the temple together with our calculation of rock volumes to reconstruct a complete elevation of the vanished City of the Moon.
‘Here, let me do that!’ Irritably Sally took the paint brush out of my hand on the first evening, after she had watched my efforts for ten minutes.
‘I think the batter of the main walls is a little excessive,’ Peter murmured critically, watching her, ‘if you compare the walls of the elliptical building at Zimbabwe—’
‘Yes, but take the temple of Tarxien at Malta,’ Heather interceded. ‘Or the main walls of Knossos.’ And before Ral and I could do a thing to prevent it, the project had become a group effort that replaced the nightly song-fest in the common room.
With everybody contributing from their own particular area of the dig, and from their own specialized talents and interests, we built up a series of pictures of our city.
Massive red walls, ornamented with the chevron patterns of the waves that made Phoenicia great. Red walls that caught the rays of the setting sun, the evening blessing of the great sun god Baal. The tall towers, symbols of fertility and prosperity, rising from the dark green foliage of the silent grove. Beyond it, the vertical gash in the cliffs that led through a secret passage into the mysterious cavern. Again a symbol of the organs of reproduction. Surely this must have been sacred to Astarte - more commonly worshipped by the Carthaginians as Tanith - goddess of earth and moon, and so ranks of white-clad priests wound in procession through the grove, past the towers and into the secret cavern.
We knew that the Phoenicians made human sacrifices to their gods and goddesses. The Old Testament describes the infants delivered to the flaming belly of Baal, and we wondered what dreadful ritual our peaceful emerald pool had seen, depicting the victim dressed in gold and finery and poised on the edge of the pool with the high priest lifting the sacrificial knife.
‘If only it weren’t so deep!’ Sally exclaimed. ‘Ben wanted to get divers to go down, but he says they wouldn’t work so deep.’
In the area between the inner and outer walls of the temple, where the layer of ash lay thick and where the majority of golden beads and richer ornaments had been discovered, we drew in the quarters of the priests and priestesses. This would be a maze of mud walls with thatched roofs. We reconstructed the streets and courts of the priests and nobles.
‘What about the king and his court?’ Peter demanded. ‘Wouldn’t they live within the main walls also?’
So we divided the area between the quarters of the priests and the court of the king, drawing on what little we knew of Knossos, Carthage and Tyre and Sidon to give our paintings life. Ral had found the gate through the outer wall, it was the only opening and it looked towards the west.
‘From it a road would have led directly down to the harbour.’ Sally drew it in.
‘Yes, but there would have been a market, a place of trade beside the harbour,’ Ral suggested, and pointed to the map. ‘This would be it. The area Peter has been puzzling over.’
‘Can you imagine the piles of ivory and copper and gold.’ Leslie sighed.
‘And the slaves standing on the blocks to be sold,’ Heather agreed.
‘Hold it! Hold it! This is supposed to be a scientific investigation.’ I tried to restrain them.
‘And the ships lying on the beach.’ Sally started to paint them in. ‘Huge biremes with their prows shaped like rams’ heads, covered with gilt and enamel.’
The walls and towers rose again, the lake refilled with bright waters, and the harbours and taverns were peopled with hosts dead for two thousand years. Warriors strutted, and slaves whined, noble ladies rode in their litters, caravans poured in from the land to the east laden with gold and treasure, and a white king strode out through the great stone gates with a resetted shield on his shoulder and his armour asparkle in the sun.
The project was fun, and it served also to prod our imagination. By the time Sally had put the last touches to our painting, four weeks had passed, and as a direct result of it Peter had discovered the shipyards suggested by Sally’s biremes beached below the city.
There was the keel of a ship laid on the slip, with the main frames in place. The unfinished vessel had been burned, and its charred parts scattered. Only imagination and faith could recognise it as a ship. I knew my scientific opponents would challenge it, but carbon 14 on the charred wood gave us an approximate date of AD 300, the date which we had defined as that of the ‘great fire’.
The project gave me an excuse to spend more of my time with Sally. I began taking my lunch and bathing costume up to the cavern. At first there was an awkwardness between us, but I worked hard at setting Sally at ease and soon we were back in that friendly bantering relationship that made us such a good working team. Only once I referred back to our more intimate association.
‘Have you still got the blues, Sal?’ I asked, and she gave me a long frank gaze before replying.
‘Please give me time, Ben. There is something I have to work out with myself.’
‘Okay.’ I smiled as cheerfully as I could, and resigned myself to a long, long wait.
Sometimes the others joined our lunchtime sessions at the pool, for even when the heat was a hissing 115° outside, it was cool in the cavern. We splashed and shouted, and the echoes boomed back at us. One of my indelible memories is that of Leslie clad in a frilly little pink bikini romping skittishly around the pool like a lady hippopotamus in the mating season, pursued by the indefatigable Ral.
Five weeks after my return I went up to the cavern with good news.
‘I just received a radio message from Larkin, Sal, Louren is arriving tomorrow.’
I was disappointed in her negative reaction, because I was sure she had overcome her initial dislike of Louren for my sake - and that she had begun to like him.
