Iris Johansen - The Treasure

“Oh, he knows.” She dropped back onto her chair. “We know each other very well. Finish your wine and I’ll tell you how well.”

Selene slowly sipped her wine. “I don’t care about your dealings with Tarik.”

“Even when the dealings concern you and Kadar? Of course you do.”

“Very well, what is Tarik to you?”

“He is my husband.”

Selene stared at her, stunned. “His wife is dead. He told me so.”

“Rosa? She was never his wife. How could she be when I was still alive when he wed her?” She looked away. “I’m his only wife.”

“Layla…”

Her gaze swung back to Selene. “He told you about me?”

“He told me of Layla, his first wife. He said I was like her.”

Her lips twisted. “I assure you that was no compliment. We are not on the best of terms.”

Selene’s mind was whirling. “You said your name was Tabia.”

“A small, necessary lie.”

“Why is a lie necessary?”

“You were confused enough. I saw no need to increase the muddle. Tarik and I parted long ago.”

“But you still send spies to Sienbara.”

“Because we have a joint interest. Not for any personal reason.”

“The treasure?”

“Tarik is a dreamer. One cannot always trust dreamers to do what is best. The coffer is too valuable to be left in his hands alone.”

“Then it does contain a grail?”

Layla nodded. “There is a grail. But there is no magic connected with it, as Nasim thinks.”

“It’s the grail of the Last Supper?”

Layla shrugged. “I do not think so. Perhaps. The grail is very old and was in the Holy Land at one time.”

“At one time?”

“It came into Tarik’s and my hands in Alexandria.” She drank deep of the wine in her goblet. “Do you know Alexandria?”

“It’s in Egypt. When I was at the House of Nicholas, we had patrons from there come to buy the silk.”

“Ah, yes, I remember now.” She smiled as she saw Selene stiffen. “You don’t like the fact that I know your roots. I told you that I had to know everything about everyone connected to Tarik.”

“The connection was not by our will.”

“But it exists.” She brushed the argument aside. “Besides, you should be proud of rising above that prison where you grew up. It was a battle well fought.”

“Kadar got me away from Nicholas’s house.”

“So I was told. But you would have found a way to free yourself given time.” She grimaced. “However, it’s true, you were fortunate. I was not able to release myself from my prison until I reached womanhood.”

“Your prison?”

“I grew up in the House of Death.”

Selene’s eyes widened.

“But, of course, you don’t know what that is. I was born in a small village north of Alexandria. When I was eight, I was chosen by the priests to be brought to the House of Death at Alexandria. I never saw my parents again.”

“House of Death?”

“The house where the dead are taken to be prepared for burial. The place where their bodies are wrapped to preserve them for eternity and their souls are guided by the priests to the land of eternal joy.” Layla’s tone was laden with irony. “And I was selected by the gods to help them cross over. Don’t you think it’s a fitting task for a girl of eight years?”

“Gods? There is only one God.”

“Here in Christendom. In Egypt many still believe in the old gods. It’s such a comforting religion. One need not be good if one is rich or powerful. And it’s possible to take all of your most precious worldly goods with you. Providing you can keep the robbers from finding out the location of your tomb. Thieves have been known to strip the linen from the corpse to see if any jewels were left on the body.”

Selene shivered. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Thieves are thieves. Whether they steal from the dead or the living. In my opinion, it’s less horrible to steal from the dead. The living need their possessions.”

“From what you say, according to your religion, so do the dead.”

“It’s no longer my religion. Perhaps it never was. I began to doubt from the moment I stepped over the threshold of the House of Death. I could not bear to be used in that fashion.”

“What did they have you do?”

“I was the symbol of Akuba. I wore the mask of the jackal and stood over the body when the priests chanted and purified the body.” She paused. “And then I stood and watched while they removed the organs.”

Selene’s stomach lurched. “Dear God.”

“Don’t look so horrified. I grew accustomed to it. Soon I didn’t even smell the decay of flesh and the scent of incense. Children can become used to anything.”

Selene’s gaze searched her face. “I think you lie.”

Layla lifted her goblet in a mocking toast. “Wise child. I hated it every minute of my waking days and dreamed of it every night.

I wanted only to be free. I tried to run away once and they brought me back. I was beaten until I couldn’t stand. They told me the next time it would be death. I knew about death. I decided not to risk it until I was sure I wouldn’t be caught. So I stayed in the House of Death until my twenty-sixth year. I listened, I learned, I sought a way to free myself. I found it.”

“How?”

“I heard stories of a young man called Selket, who had labored in the House of Death before I came there. He had been killed by the priests.”

“Why?”

“He’d found a special treasure among the belongings of one of the dead and wouldn’t share it with them. They tortured him to death, but he died without revealing where he’d hidden it. Selket was clever. He made sure that even after his death they couldn’t find it.”

“What treasure? The grail?”

She nodded. “And if the priests wanted it, I knew I didn’t want them to have it. I would have buried it or burned it rather than let them have anything they wanted. The priests gave up the search after a few years. I did not. I saw the treasure as my salvation. For years I searched and dug and questioned. I had to be very careful not to let the priests know what I was doing. In time they began to think me cowed and submissive to their every whim. I was even permitted to go alone about the city. Then I found a clue. Two weeks before his death, Selket had visited his uncle, who was a scribe in the halls of the Great Library.”

“Library?”

“A place where thousands of scrolls and documents were kept. Scholars and scribes came from all over the world to work and visit the library. I learned Selket’s uncle was dead, but there might still be something to point the way. He was a scribe-perhaps he’d written something on one of the scrolls. But the library was not a place a woman could go without suspicion, and there were thousands and thousands of scrolls. I had to find someone to help me. I watched and studied the people who worked in the library and finally chose a scribe who seemed more approachable than some. He had lived within the walls of the library most of his life, and his work was his only passion.” She smiled. “His name was Tarik.”

“Tarik was a scribe?” It was not really such a surprising thought when she remembered the expression on his face when he had shown them the manuscript. “Go on.”

Layla shook her head. “I believe I’ve told you enough for the moment. Far more than Tarik would like. He always counseled caution. Besides, you’re almost ready to swoon from weariness. It’s time to go to sleep.”

“No, I want to hear-”

Layla was on her feet and heading for the door.

“Wait. Don’t you go one more step until you tell me what plans Tarik has for Kadar.”

“Oh, he wishes him to guard the grail.” The answer was offhand.