Monsters in the Sand by David Harris Page A

men bringing tributes to the king? Could they be Hebrews? Look carefully. Hebrews – yes? If so, Henry Rawlinson might find their name, and the name of the Assyrian king they bowed to. We know from the
Old Testament
that Sennacherib took Hebrews into captivity. Just think, you are looking at one of the most important artworks in history.’
    A violent noise came down an airshaft.
    ‘Is it a fight?’ Longworth flinched.

Chapter 33
    ‘It’s a miracle!’ Mohammed Emin leapt into a trench where men fought to get near a giant stone face in the wall of earth.
    ‘It’s Nimrod, come to punish us.’ With his turban falling off, another man scrambled out and kept running until he flung himself over the edge of the mound.
    A new worker forced his way close to the face that was as tall as he was and spat on it. ‘Evil jinn!’
    ‘No, it’s Nimrod, you fool.’ Mohammed Emin pulled him away. Then he gently wiped off the spit with the sleeve of his cloak and kissed the smiling lips.
    ‘Destroy the idol.’ The worker picked up a spade and swung it at the head. The sheik fired his gun into the wall and the man froze. Then the sheik drew his dagger and kept close to Austen as they climbeddown. The men moved aside, the trench went quiet, and only then did the sheik put away his dagger.
    Austen positioned himself between the men and the face. Then he turned and stared into peaceful eyes that were seeing the sun for the first time in almost two thousand five hundred years.
    ‘Is it King Nimrod?’ The sheik stroked the beard, nose and forehead. His hands hesitated near the eyes. ‘They are looking at me.’ He shivered.
    ‘It’s so beautiful.’ Then Austen realised he’d been asked a question. ‘No. It’s not Nimrod.’
    He hardly dared to say what they had found, though, in case the magic was broken. ‘We need two of your best teams.’ He pointed to the opposite wall of the trench. ‘See the place the head is staring at? One team will dig into that part of the wall. The other team will dig carefully around this statue.’ He prayed that the men would in fact work carefully. ‘Not one curl of hair or tip of a feather is to be damaged,’ he said.
    Bit by bit, earth around the bearded stone head was eased away. There was more carved stone buried behind the head. Gradually, the shoulders, front legs and body of a fantastic winged bull towered over the workers. But its hindquarters were still stuck fast in solid earth.
    On the opposite side of the trench, about twelve feet away, another face pushed its way out of theunderworld. So there were two colossal winged bulls. If they were guarding the entrance to a throne room, what treasures might be hidden there?
    The sheik clasped his hands together. ‘My Lord, what wonders!’
    Austen struggled to suppress tears of exhaustion and triumph.
    Suddenly shouting erupted across the mound, and men swarmed out of a distant trench and flung away baskets of earth. War cries pierced the sky.
    When Austen reached the trench, a huge stone lion with a human head was struggling free of the earth, which it seemed to be shaking away from its shoulders and back.
    Austen sank to the ground.
    ‘The Lion has found his own. Here.’ He stepped out four paces in a straight line from the lion’s nose and called to another group of workers, ‘Dig straight here. Release the other lion.’
    The workers tore off their cloaks and tunics and rushed forward.
    ‘Choose teams who aren’t afraid to watch over these trenches tonight.’ Austen’s hands were shaking, so he hid them under his cloak. ‘Two sheep will be given to each team for a feast to last them through the night.’
    Longworth stood on the edge of the trench and sketched the scene. ‘What a scoop. This is my lucky day.’
    ‘It’s not entirely good fortune.’ Austen reached out and pressed one hand onto the first lion’s mane. ‘Once the word is out, thousands of people will hurry here from Mosul and the regions around.’
    Austen