Cleopatra's Secret: Keepers of the LIght (12 page)

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When they arrived in Giza, Antony and Cleopatra left the barge behind and mounted horses to cross the expanse of powdery sand. The hush of twilight lay over the desert as they reached the summit of a high dune and for the first time Antony beheld the Great Pyramid on the horizon.

The last rays of the sun formed a halo around the apex of the monument, its long shadow reached out towards them across the desert floor. In the barren land of the sleeping pharaohs the somber sight of their colossal tombs rising over the settling dusk filled him with awe. The sheer scale of the Pyramids seemed almost incomprehensible.

“No human hand could have built such monuments.”

Cleopatra smiled, her black lined eyes filled with mystery, and turned to her attendants. “Let’s set up camp here for the evening. At dawn we will go to the temple and make our offerings.”

Within an hour, the inhospitable land had become an oasis of gaily-colored tents with warm fires and the sound of lutes echoing in the silence of the vast desert around them. It had been a long journey and once the evening feast was cleared, the little party retired for the night.

Antony relaxed onto a pile of fine soft carpets and tasseled silk pillows. He reached out his arms to draw Cleopatra to him, but instead of yielding to his embrace, she wrapped a mantle around her shoulders and motioned for him to rise. He started to speak, but she shook her head, gesturing for silence and gave him a cloak of the same simple gray cloth as her own.

Intrigued, Antony allowed Cleopatra to slip her hand in his, and lifting the tent flap, she led him out into the night.

The stars blazed so bright his head swam and the full moon, pregnant with promise, hung over the Great Pyramid turning its limestone to silver. There was a chill in the air, surprising after the infernal heat of the day, but the freshness of the breeze invigorated him as they stole away from the campsite towards the Pyramids.

Cleopatra floated through the desert at his side like a midnight spirit as she led him to the mortuary temple that lay at the foot of the Great Pyramid. She turned to him, her eyes unfathomable pools in the moonlight.

“Antony, what I share with you now is one of Egypt's great Mysteries. Only a few select priests have knowledge of what I’m about to show you. I know I have your love, but you must swear a binding oath before the Gods that you will never betray the trust I put in you by revealing these Mysteries to any mortal.”

Antony looked at her curiously.
What game was she up to now?
He smiled. “Have no fear of me, pet.”

Her expression was grave. “You must swear or turn back.”

“You’re so serious.” He looked at her questioningly, but then shrugged. “I swear before your Gods and mine, I will not betray the trust you put in me.”

Cleopatra nodded. “Then let us enter.”

She led him past two snarling lions hewn into the sandstone blocks which guarded the door of the mortuary temple. As he stepped inside, the smell of smoldering frankincense wafted through the air and dancing torchlight illuminated painted walls depicting scenes in the life of the Gods. As they made their way through the dimly lit tunnel, scarlet, gold and turquoise hieroglyphics leaped out at him, though he could not decipher their code.

At last they reached a small room at the back of the temple where a life-size picture of Osiris and Isis was painted next to a star of shimmering silver. Cleopatra stood before the image of the Gods. The artwork was magnificent, even compared with what Antony had already seen in the temples and palaces of Alexandria. With their translucent flowing white robes covering supple bronzed limbs and jewel-like eyes, heavily lined in black paint, the two Gods seemed eerily lifelike in the flickering light.

“Is this what you came to show me?” asked Antony, gazing at the painted Gods.

A strange look clouded Cleopatra’s eyes, as though her mind were somewhere else and his gaze was drawn inexplicably to the old bronze scarab locket that hung between her breasts. “For millennia, the pharaohs and our priests have served in a secret order known as The Keepers of the Light. In our written language of symbols, the word
sba
means both
star
and
door
.” She pointed to the picture of the star on the wall. “Look up above you, Antony. What do you see?”

Tearing his eyes from the wall painting, he turned his gaze upward. A shaft was cut from the stone ceiling revealing the gleaming fires of the stars burning bright in the sky above. “I see the stars.”

“Yes, but which stars?”

“Well, I’m not as schooled in the constellations as you Egyptians, but I seem to remember those make up Orion.”

“Yes,” she said eagerly, “for us he is Osiris. Below the great star, you see rising just beneath is Sothis, or Isis. When she rises to a certain point, the Nile will flood its banks and the cycle of life will be renewed in Egypt.”

“So your Gods are the stars?” Antony peered up at the constellations more deeply.

“Not exactly.” Cleopatra pointed to the three gleaming points of Orion's belt. “You see these three stars that make up Osiris's belt? Then the milky cluster over there that seems almost like a river of diamonds? What do those remind you of?”

Antony furrowed his brow and searched the sky, trying to find meaning in it. He was growing annoyed. He did not like to be spoken to as if he were a small child at his pedagogue’s knee. “I’ve told you already, I’m no astronomer. I see no meaning in them.”

Unruffled, Cleopatra put her hand on his shoulder and spoke softly. “These Pyramids are like a map of the stars. See how they mimic Osiris's belt? Three great stars, three Great Pyramids, with one larger and more magnificent than the other two? And the large body of stars over there runs across the sky at precisely the same angle as the Nile flowing past our monuments. Our sacred land of Giza is the very copy of the heavens. This was done by order of the Gods, that those whose blood flows from the First Time will not forget where we come from.”

A chill went through Antony. “I don’t understand.”

“Come.” She held out her hand. “I will show you.”

Antony allowed Cleopatra to close her fingers around his as she turned him to face once more the uncanny painting of Isis and Osiris and the gleaming silver star. “There are many doors into the Pyramids, but there is only one that matters. Behind it lies the great secret of the universe. This door has only ever been opened to The Keepers Of The Light.” She indicated the rock face before them.

Antony pushed on the stone walls. “You have one of your trap doors, such as I have seen in the palace?” he asked, still feeling around the sides of the limestone.

“No human architect could engineer such a door as we enter now. For this we will need a Guide.”

She moved to a shadowy alcove where an altar stood before a statue of Anubis hewn from smooth black marble. Cleopatra prostrated herself before the jackal-headed God, and removing a carved ruby ring from her finger, placed it in his offering bowl where it kindled crimson fire in the torchlight.

“Lord Anubis: Opener of the Way,” she chanted, “I, Isis, request your assistance. Come now faithful Anubis and grant us entry!”

There was a rush of air and the torchlight dimmed as the flames dipped low. The bittersweet smoke of the frankincense grew stronger, swirling serpent-like around Antony’s head, almost scorching the inside of his nostrils making him lightheaded.

He fell back a step as the statue seemed to glow with the force of life before his disbelieving eyes, growing animated, no longer the cold masterpiece of marble created by a skilled craftsman, but transforming into a living God standing before him in all his dreadful splendor.

The blood rushed from Antony’s shaky limbs as the Jackal turned his hypnotic eyes on him.

Cleopatra grabbed his wrist firmly as Antony fought the urge to bolt from the suffocating mortuary, with its unholy demons, out into the clear night.

Mastering himself, he tore his eyes from the Dark God hovering in the shadows to glare at her. “If this is some trick of yours, I don’t like it!”

She motioned for silence. The room seemed to flicker, like a flame caught in a draft, as the painting covered walls and earth floor warped and shimmered into particles of mater decomposing all around them.

In panic, Antony clutched at the dissolving walls, reaching out his palms to find nothing more than swirling atoms as incorporeal as dust motes floating in the moonlight. He sprang back as the veil between the worlds shifted, and in place of the wall painting of the silver star, a tunnel now stood leading down into complete darkness.

The Jackal God approached Antony, his burning red eyes x-rays into Antony’s soul. He knew in that moment what death was as he stood face to face with its ambassador.

Antony clutched the hilt of his sword but his sweaty fingers slipped from the steel. He was powerless against the dark shadow Jackal looming above him. Anubis seemed to grow, filling the room with his presence and Antony felt his knees buckle and his breath––or was it his soul––being sucked from his body.

He tried to call out to Cleopatra for help, but his vocal chords were paralyzed. Anubis’s stone face held him for a moment longer, then the God turned and disappeared into the tunnel.

Cleopatra tugged at Antony’s hand and he found himself being dragged down a blind path deep into the blackness of the earth.

The smell of ancient dust rose to meet Antony as he stumbled into the dank tunnel. He blinked, hoping his eyes would adjust, but found only impenetrable blackness. Antony swung back to where the entrance had been, but whatever mystical portal had opened vanished as quickly as it had appeared. His heart pounded in sickening thuds as he tried to get some bearings without the faculty of sight. At least he could hear the Guide’s heavy footsteps as Anubis trudged ahead of them.

Cleopatra tugged at his hand. He had no choice but to follow her lead or be left alone in this pitch-black hole.

Wild thoughts raced through his mind.

What if his Roman brethren had been right? Was Cleopatra truly a sorceress bent on ensnaring him and leading him to destruction? Was he, the general who had defeated dozens of armies choked with blood lust, now to perish at the soft bejeweled hand of a temptress and her enchantments?

Antony stopped short. The unnerving hiss of serpents and the slither of reptilian scales gliding across ancient earth and along the unseen walls of the tunnel made his flesh crawl.

If he acted now, could he somehow dash back to the entrance and discover a way out?

“The only way lies before you,” came the booming voice of Anubis. “Have courage, Lord Antony.”

Cleopatra paused, waiting until Antony mastered himself, but the Jackal trudged forward. Fearing he would lose his only guide, Antony hurried after him.

They walked on and on, deeper into the earth and the blackness of the unknown, until at last Antony felt the path turning upwards, and to his relief, he saw torches burning up ahead. Never so happy to see a friendly light, he quickened his pace with Cleopatra at his side.

He could see her now, her noble profile outlined against the flickering amber light. She seemed caught up in some reverie of her own and Antony wondered if she even walked in the same reality he did.

They turned a sharp corner and the passage opened into a cavernous space. Anubis stepped aside as Cleopatra, lost in an experience of her own, passed before Antony into the chamber. Antony followed after her.

Unlike any of the palaces or temples he had visited in Egypt, the walls were bare of any decoration. He scanned the space, the chamber seemed almost empty, but for one side of the room, where a row of sarcophagi lined the wall.

Antony let out a breath. This was a tomb then. Cleopatra simply wished to show him the splendor of her dynasty’s past. Yet apart from the massive size of the chamber, there was nothing terribly splendid about it.

Slowly he approached the open coffins. Each held the body of an ancient pharaoh. He leaned closer to get a better look at these sleeping figures of the kings and queens of Egypt. Every face was unmarked by signs of decay and their rich garments and sparkling jewels gleamed from within the coffins as fresh and pristine as Cleopatra’s.

Though each pharaoh had the distinct appearance of their own individual personality, there was a sameness to them all with their high cheekbones, smooth serene brows and full lips. He stole a glance at Cleopatra, then back at the impossibly preserved pharaohs. These were her ancestors from a time so far back history had never recorded it. At least, not any history he had ever studied.

He frowned and ran his finger across the smooth wrist of a queen. Her skin was as soft and supple as a child’s and the light of life emanated from her, as it did from them all. How had they escaped the ravages of death? And if they were not dead…but they were. They must be.

With adrenalin pumping, spurring him forward, he marched down the line of sarcophagi, hoping to discover something more which would explain the mystery of the sleeping pharaohs. He came to the last sarcophagus in the row.

It had yet to be occupied.

Antony paused in front of the empty coffin, his feet glued to the floor and stared into the black bottom. A shiver ran down his back as Cleopatra came up behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder.