Chapter 9

Sir Harold returned from Alexandria with all of the exit paperwork needed to transport the contents of Neferuptah's tomb to the museum in New York City. The British consulate attempted to dissuade him from delivering the find to the upstart Americans and return with it to the British Royal Museum instead.

Personally, Sir Harold was entirely in accord with the consulate's suggestion, but he knew from past experience, the Americans took their Museums very seriously indeed and would furnish more than adequate funds to restore and maintain the discovery in a suitable location with maximum exposure to the modern-day world.

His wife was in a bath inside her tent. He thought it strange she was bathing at such a late hour but it did not preclude him from enjoying a close-up of all her naked assets as he relayed the results of his trip.

The silly fellow, Ramses, attempted to enter the tent without so much as a "by your leave" and he felt it necessary to scold him profusely. The ignorant servant would have seen his Constance stark naked and he needed to be taught some manners around ladies of her temperament and breeding.

The irate husband was unaware that the tunnel guide was delivering scented soap to Constance at her own request. She wanted the sturdy and well-muscled worker to lather the soap into her back and posterior with his strong fingers removing all the evidence of her heated submission.

Ramses beat a hasty retreat and drowned his wounded pride with several cups of spirits before falling into a restless sleep on the ground behind Lady Constance's tent.

At almost the same time, a short distance away, a group of plotters huddled around a small fire built to drive away the midnight air. They were all male, all Egyptian, and by the judge of their attire, they were members of some religious sect or cult.

"Venerable leader, we must do something before they remove the sacred body of our Goddess to a foreign land!"

The ancient withered man with the jeweled staff of authority looked at young Amentop and choose his words carefully.

"You are correct, my loyal follower of Neferuptah, and we will do just that before the Sun clears the sacred pyramid."

The band of religiously garbed zealots stirred at the words and their hands moved to their hidden daggers. Was it time at long last?

"Come closer, my friends, and listen carefully to the plan."

Ramses was in a terrible state.

He was consumed with his desire to merge with the English lady in a chaos of arms and legs bouncing her glorious bum down hard against the desert sand. He had made a visit to the camp followers tent again last night and the memory of the beautiful Nubian bottom writhing in a convulsive orgasm under his driving tool gave him solace.

His solace was short-lived.

He woke up with a knife at his throat. The small camp had been overrun by bandits in the unsuspecting hour before the rise of the revered Sun. The dangerous looking thugs herded their hostages into a single tent and made them all lie down with their faces in the carpet. Ramses saw the object of his desire, the beautiful Lady Constance Murphy face down and shamefully exposed posterior raised in trembling agitation.

None of the interlopers took any notice of the luscious bum displayed so prominently before them. They were more interested in the sarcophagus resting quietly in the corner. Several of the men prostrated themselves before the coffin and kissed the plain wood base in studied reverence.

Ramses did not like the look of this.

Sir Harold was sitting in a daze on the floor. Apparently, he had resisted the capture and had suffered the consequences. Obviously, the bandits were intent on stealing the coffin of the long-dead Queen. He saw that the desperate men were preparing to dispatch all of the witnesses with unemotional efficiency.

Lady Constance stood up and looked directly at the leader of the band of intruders.

He began to instruct his men to push the foreign lady back to the ground when she spoke out in clear and forceful manner. What surprised Ramses was that she spoke in an ancient tongue. A language of the silent pyramids.

"By what authority do you intrude into my quarters, unclean dogs of the night?"

The old man was almost in shock. He fell to his knees and commanded his followers to show deference to the British female. They all appeared confused and looked to their leader for guidance. The workers all used the opportunity to run away into the endless desert sands.

Ramses saw Sir Harold fall over onto his side. One look at his lifeless eyes and he knew the old man would not be making any trip to deliver the discovery to a foreign museum.

Lady Constance looked at the dead body of her husband and did not exclaim or show any emotion. She addressed the leader of the bandits, once again.

"Take my coffin and place it in safety, priest. We both know the time has not yet come."

The bandit leader signaled his men and they stole away into the shadows of the great Black pyramid with the heavy sarcophagus on their sweating shoulders.

Lady Constance turned to Ramses sitting perplexed on the carpet.

"Come, my beautiful cock man, we must bury this body quickly. It will not keep in the desert sun. Treat him gently, he was a good husband."

Ramses followed his beautiful obsession blindly and followed her orders without question. Deep inside he knew his English female with the lovely bum was more than just a mere female. She was the promised one who would unite the children of the desert under one banner.