(Peshedu is a male character ... keep reading!)

           Finally, her dream was about to be realized as she ran her fingers along the seam to the entrance of the secret chamber. The notion that it had even existed came to her while still in college during her research of the ancient Egyptian Pharaohs, and the portcullis she was about to open would vindicate her suspicions. This was what she had searched for her entire adult life. The chamber seemed to inhale at the moment the stone door was loosened, as though it had been holding its breath for six thousand years. According to the bits and pieces of stories, and legends told through hieroglyphs on other monuments, and papyruses found in other tombs, she had found a secret room within the tomb of Peshedu, a pharaoh that was believed to have been betrayed by his queen. Legend states that he simply disappeared at the age of twenty-four, and though his tomb would have been stocked with riches, his body was never found, and therefore was never placed here. The pyramid itself was discovered and raided long ago but her research had told her that the previous explorers had missed something. Dr. Lana Kraft was about to step back six thousand years through time …

           She stepped from the well-lit anti-chamber into the total blackness of the heretofore-undiscovered chamber. As she brought the torch in her hand through the entrance, it barely illuminated the walls closest to her on either side of the opening. It was enough light, though, to make it possible for her to spot the unlit torches mounted on the walls so she turned left and made her way over to the first torch and lit it. This illuminated the placement of the next torch to her right and as she made her way to each torch, lighting them one by one, the room began to take shape. It was an octagonal room, quite large, and every side had a fresco above the torchlight. With all torches lit, she had gone full circle and was back at the entrance. As she turned around, she could barely make out that there was something in the center of the room.

           She stepped forward, and as the light from the torch in her hand hit the unknown object, she gasped, startled by the face that stared back at her. It was that of a life-size, life-like statue of what must have been Peshedu himself and he didn’t look very happy. His expression could only be described as a mixture of anger, shock, and sorrow, which was rather unusual for a statue from that time, and he was in mid-stride. As she got closer, she realized that the statue wore the adornments of a pharaoh. Wore them! They were not carved stone as with any other statue ever found. They were separate. The items looked as though they were the ones he would have actually worn. But how could that have been the case? Even his clothes were real. That all struck her as odd, but then not much was know about the pharaohs from that far back in history and that might have been the first undisturbed chamber of that time period to have been found. So she pushed the thought aside for the time being. In his left hand, he gripped a torch held high above his head. If Lana could light it she would be able to see the domed ceiling. Since the statue was that of a man at least six feet, four inches tall, with his arm extended fully above his head, the torch was about eight feet off the ground. So the only way to reach it was to climb the statue somewhat.

           Placing her knee on his thigh, she lifted herself up a bit and as she checked for a place to put her other foot, she looked into his face. She smiled, as she found the statue to be very attractive. Since she was alone in the tomb she humored herself by talking to him. “Hummm, too bad you are not real. I would have enjoyed meeting you. And those lips … mmm … incredibly kissable.” She laughed and gave him a sultry kiss on his stone mouth. “Oh Lana,” she sighed, “you are spending way too much time alone.” She lifted herself higher, while leaning against him. Her breasts were in his face and her free hand was wrapped around his head to hold herself steady. Extending her hand, she was able to reach his fist, and finally her torch met his, lighting it and bringing the domed ceiling to life.

           She looked up at it in amazement. The brilliant color was not dimmed by time. The ornate designs were all just as they would have been when the man the statue commemorated was alive. Not only had the ceiling come to life but somehow the whole room had as well, seeming to have been lit now more than the difference that a single torchlight should have made. She climbed back down, careful not to damage the clothing or jewelry on the statue. As she straightened the loincloth back into place, she had a thought. Her raised brow and impish grin gave some indication of what she was thinking and she reached under the loincloth to satisfy her curiosity. The statue was anatomically correct. That too was not typical of other statues. Why was his statue so different?

           Her grin faded as she looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Who were you?” she asked him, wishing he could answer. She knew his name, is station, but nothing else about him. The Egyptians had a way of erasing from history anyone that they wanted to. He had not been erased, so he had not committed some major offence, but the legend had hinted that the queen did not want him to have a lasting legacy so only a little was known about him. She turned to the frescos on the walls, and starting with the one to the right of the door, began to read them out loud.

           She had not known the meaning of all of the symbols but she was able to understand most of the story as it unfolded before her on the walls. The first three frescos told of his life. He had been a good man, husband and pharaoh. The next fresco, sounded like an apology from the queen. It stated that she loved her husband too much to want his death but that she loved power more and could only be pharaoh with him gone. The frescos after that explained what she was apologizing for. According to the hieroglyphs, she had paid the engineer to design and build this chamber in secret, convincing the engineer that the chamber was to be a gift, a tribute room to the pharaoh. Then when it was complete, she had lured Peshedu here to show him the gift. The queen had a priestess waiting in the chamber that could cast a spell on Peshedu. Lana struggled with the meaning of the next few symbols.

           “Preserved forever? I’m not sure...” her words trailed off as she tried to read symbols that made no sense to her. Standing in front of the last fresco put her just to the left of the doorway. It seemed to state that the queen never intended for this room to be seen by anyone but Peshedu and that out of guilt she had asked the priestess to provide a way for the spell to be broken. “Very deep desire … closer to utopia … pleasing …affectionate?” Lana spoke the Egyptian words that belonged to the symbols but the meaning was unclear, “Osintsu irrikitasun … onuts utopia … afa … amultsu.” Lana was so engrossed in figuring out the symbols of the fresco that she failed to notice the change in the torchlight. Hearing a noise behind her, she quickly turned around. Lana gasped, but then laughed at herself for being scared by the face of the statue a second time … until he spoke!

           “Udikan amure egon,” he said to her in Egyptian. ("Get out! I don't trust you.")

           “Oh my god!” she blurted out. The statue was not in the center of the room any longer, but now stood right in front of her, alive, and talking! She froze, not sure what to do, not sure what he had said to her but he didn’t look any happier now than he had when he had been stone.

           She forced a smile hoping to defuse the situation a bit when suddenly his expression changed to one of total confusion. His eyes looked her up and down, then he looked around the room as if he expected to find something or someone, the lit torch still in his hand. Not finding whatever he was looking for, he charged out of the chamber into the large room that would have contained the necessary items to carry him into the after life. It, of course, was empty. He shouted something in Egyptian and Lana stepped into the room behind him watching him searching still. He turned and looked at her, almost pleading for her to make sense out of things for him, when his expression again changed, as though something had just occurred to him. He charged back into the chamber, held the torch high, and began to read the story on the walls, skimming over the first three frescos quickly since they did not hold the answer he sought. When he got to the apology his mouth dropped open in disbelief but he continued to read, as his face showed his pain and he finally reached the last fresco. When he was finished reading, he turned to Lana and spoke, “Ene aterpe.” ("My refuge")

           She had no idea what he is trying to say but his expression said that he felt she was responsible for breaking the spell. He had read the fresco and could no doubt understand it. Lana put her hand on her chest and shook her head. “Me? No, I don’t know what I could have done to free you.” speaking to him even though she knew he would not understand her.

           He grinned slightly, as though he knew something about her that he shouldn’t. Then he looked back up at the fresco and back to her as though confirming something, nodding his head, affirming she was the one. Lowering to one knee, holding the torch out to his left, placing his right fist over his heart, and bowing his head, he appeared to be pledging his loyalty and service to her. She was moved by this and shocked. The man was pharaoh, in his day no one would have been greater and yet he was bowing to her, submitting to her. With her understanding of what the frescos had said, knowing he had understood them better than she, and from the cry he had uttered at finding the outer chamber empty when it should have been stocked with what was needed to take him to the after life, he must have sensed that he was not in control of the circumstances that he now found himself in. Rising back to his feet he looked down into her eyes and awaited her next move.

           ... To Be Continued ...