August 29th, 761, 9:17 AM; Day 165 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"How nice of you to bring the kitchen staff along, Vedarrak," Marchand-Renier snapped, rather acerbically. "Will they be serving lunch at the tomb?"
The narrow, treacherous paths along the cliff faces stretched the Falkovnian army out like a snake, winding it's way among the fissures. Lieutenant Lebrecht and the cavalry were gone, the mountains being poor places for horses; you could still see them patrolling the desert below, ensuring you would not be followed. Taking their place were the Akiri servants who had served you back in Snefru's manor. They walked unfettered among the soldiers, fear keeping them chained more effectively than iron shackles could. For better or worse, Mandisa was not among them.
"If time provides," Vedarrak said, with the same amused tolerance he had toward all the barbs Sebastian had been tossing his way. "I can assure you, Sebastian, they will come to no harm at all. Provided nothing happens to us, of course."
The last bit was directed more toward the black-eyed figure in front than to Professor Marchand-Renier, although Kheldun couldn't understand a word of it. The old man led you through the tunnels and crannies of the cliff-face at his own steady pace, following such a convoluted path that it was hard not to wonder if Vedarrak's suspicions were correct, and that Kheldun was trying to get you hopelessly lost.
"We must have searched this cliff over thirty times," the Kommandant said in Akiri, looking around at the towering rock towers on either side of him. Vedarrak's eyes often tended upward, searching for any sign of an enemy ambush.
"You should have searched once more," came the old man's gruff reply. Kheldun ducked into a long fissure, leading the Falkovnians through a dark tunnel. For what seemed like an eternity, all you could hear was the echoing sounds of armor and nervous breathing. Then, there was a slight murmur of surprise from the soldiers up ahead of you. You could smell fresh air, see a hint of light, and a moment later, the tunnel opened up.
The cavern in which you stood was much smaller than the great cavern that housed Kamarn-Quse, but it was still large enough to impress. Where the Dread City had felt oppressive and unnatural, this cavern held a sense of great timelessness and majesty. It had stood here when the Pharaohs of Har Akir had ruled the greatest empire of the world, and here it would stand until long after the desert reached forth and claimed the very last of their descendants.
"Impressive," Vedarrak admitted. The Kommandant walked forward, his attention caught by what lay at the other end.
Upon the far wall of the cavern was a massive relief carved into the stone, forming the walls and doorway of a great temple. The massive monument was even larger than the now ruined Temple of Osiris, with giant pillars running the length of the entire façade. Brilliant designs covered the face of the temple wall, untouched by the ravages of time; hundreds of hieroglyphics ran down the side, surrounding jackal-headed figures performing the ancient rituals of embalming. Two statues in sand-stone and ebony-wood flanked the sides of the doorway, depicting a jackal-headed man many times life size. Great bronze swords lay sheathed by the sides of their carved war-kilts, and their opal eyes glowed like fire in the dim light.
"The paint is completely untouched," Carter breathed, looking impressed. "This is the most intact ancient Akiri tomb since... well, ever." Remy let out another string of frustrated mutters over the theft of his camera.
"Here lies he who's name shall not be spoken," Marchand-Renier quietly translated the writing at the top of the archway. Even at this distance, the professor could read it clearly. "May those who enter join him in oblivion."
"Well," Vedarrak said, reasonably, "one man, at least, has entered and returned to tell of it. A moment, if you please." The Kommandant said a few mystic words, looking around the chamber and carefully examining everything. "That was less helpful than I hoped," he added after a moment. Picking up a rock that had chipped loose from the sandstone floor, Vedarrak threw it toward the doorway.
The statue eyes lit up like twin suns. A moment later, the rock exploded in midair, the tiny shards bursting into flame as they clattered to the floor.
"How very interesting," Vedarrak said. Oddly enough, he sounded like he actually meant it. "But something I am afraid I have little time for. I assume there is some sort of password."
"No," Kheldun said abruptly. Vedarrak raised his eyebrows slightly. "You are judged. You are either found worthy... or lacking."
The Kommandant narrowed his eyes at the Akiri priest. "I think there is far more to it than that," he said, his voice dangerously low. "And your guidance is of little use to me if I cannot enter the tomb."
"You have your superiors, He-of-the-Hawk," Kheldun replied, calmly gesturing toward the temple door. "I have mine."
A black clad figure was suddenly visible in the gloom of the temple, shrouded in torn priestly robes. You could barely make out any features at this distance, but the curved steel shamshir stood out against the darkness, hovering ominously before the tomb entrance. Menetnashte looked out at you, regarding those who stood before her. Then, in an instant, she melted away into the darkness, as if she had never been.
