The Sleeper in the Sands by Tom Holland Page A

turned to face me, I had little doubt that it was he who had screamed, for his eyes were bulging and his face was chalky white, and he started, then shuddered and shrank from my approach.
    I took a step nearer him and demanded to know what the matter was. He stammered something unintelligible but I suddenly saw, with a lurch of excitement, that the object in his hand had an edging of gold. I asked him to show it to me. He shrank back even further, and as I stretched out my hand to remove it from him, his stammerings rose into a dread-haunted wail. At the same moment I heard footsteps behind me and, glancing round saw Ahmed Girigar. I gestured to the workman. ‘For God’s sake, sort him out.’ The man screamed wildly at Ahmed, then fell by my feet as though begging for something. I felt almost embarrassed -and yet in truth, not greatly so, for as I took the object from the labourer’s hand I at once grew oblivious to everything else.
    The find appeared to be the plaque of a bracelet of gold. It had been beautifully crafted from carnelian, yet it was the design rather than the workmanship which had made my heart begin to pound. For within the golden edging was the portrait of a queen: not Nefer-titi, as I had briefly thought at first, but a ruler if anything of even greater power, the very Queen of Queens indeed, wife to Amen-hetep the Third, Akh-en-Aten’s mother, Tyi. In an age of mighty rulers, there had been none more powerful nor more splendid than she, and it filled me with a sense of awe just to hold her portrait in my hands. Certainly, there could be no doubting her identity -- I recognised not only her features but also her favoured incarnation, a sphinx with feathered, outspread wings. But although I had seen several such portraits of Tyi elsewhere, I had never come across anything to compare with the one I held now, neither for delicate loveliness nor for sinister power. Indeed, it was the exquisite femininity of the Queen’s face and breasts, mounted as they were upon the body of a lion, which served to render the portrait so unsettling and give it a look at once so monstrous and cruel. Like a true lioness Tyi crouched, her hindlegs tensed and her forearms outstretched: as though reaching for her victim; as though greedy for prey.
    I glanced at the workman still shuddering before me. What had he seen in the portrait to reduce him to such a state? I beckoned Ahmed across and showed him the ornament. He frowned as he inspected it. His uneasiness, although he sought to conceal it, was immediately apparent.
    ‘Goodness,’ I exclaimed, ‘but you are all an ungallant lot, to be so unsettled by the portrait of a lady!’
    Ahmed, however, did not answer my smile. ‘It is said,’ he muttered, ‘when the tomb was found -- the one which held the demon who guarded the treasures - that just such a thing was discovered by its door: the image of a lion with a woman’s head.’
    ‘The sphinx,’ I whispered, almost to myself. ‘Guarding the portal which leads the way to treasure . . .’ Again I felt a sudden lurch of excitement, and to restrain it I clapped my hands and gave the order to continue at once with the dig. No one moved, though, and Ahmed, I saw, was gazing at the mountain peaks behind us, as they were dyed dark red by the setting sun. He turned back to me. ‘It will be night-time soon, sir.’ He shuffled uncomfortably. ‘Would it not be better to continue in the day?’
    I shook my head. ‘You know, if nothing is found tonight, then I must leave here tomorrow. No, no -- we must continue digging now’
    Ahmed gestured to the workmen. You have seen, sir, how these four will not dig here, not on this site.’
    ‘Then find me others!’ I exclaimed impatiently. ‘And do it fast! We have no time to lose!’
    Ahmed hesitated a moment more, before bowing his head and hurrying off. I watched him go, then inspected the ornament closely again. As I did so, my excitement was at once renewed. It appeared to me,