The Amarnan Kings, Book 6: Scarab - Descendant

The Amarnan Kings Series

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The older man with Dani dropped the stub of his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it before joining her in the rear of the car. The three young people piled into the other limousine, the sergeant and soldiers dividing themselves between the two vehicles. The drivers eased their cars into the traffic, the little flags mounted on the front of the limousines announcing the importance of their passengers.

Policemen on point duty signalled the traffic to stop and give way to their uninterrupted passage. The sergeant said nothing.

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She is here by the express wishes of the Minister of National History. I think the Minister wouldn't look kindly on you ignoring her questions. She rolled down a window, letting in the heat and noise of the city. Daffyd lit his cigarette and blew a cloud of strongly-scented smoke over the sergeant, grinning at the man's obvious discomfort. Dani shook her head and opened up her briefcase, pulling out some handwritten sheets of paper, a notebook, and a carved golden scarab.

The sergeant glanced at her and looked away again, and Dani realised the soldier had not seen the gleam of gold. She knew that for some reason, the minds of most people failed to register the existence of the artefact. We stumbled upon a series of chambers filled with hieroglyphs that told the story of an Egyptian princess. The account indicated the presence of an undiscovered royal tomb and we, together with the Under-Minister of National History, are going to Egypt to find it. Are you planning on showing everyone?

I just wondered why you'd brought it along instead of leaving it in the hotel safe. Dani turned the heavy golden object over in her hands, marvelling anew at its weight and lustrous gleam. It was perfect, painstakingly carved by some ancient craftsman, showing legs tucked underneath, antennae pressed closely to its head and ribbed wing cases enclosing its rounded body.

A representation of the ancient Egyptian sun god, it had the symbol of the Aten carved on its belly. That feature made it unique as the Aten--the disc of the sun--had been the personal god of the heretic pharaoh Akhenaten, and anathema to the ruling priests of Amun-Re. Daffyd puffed on his cigarette, filling the interior with blue smoke that eddied and slipped out through the open window.

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That it wasn't just a lucky find? Do you honestly think there are two golden scarabs like this? This is the one gifted by the god Atum to Scarab three thousand years ago It can't just be chance What's that if not purpose? I've seen Bashir handle the damn thing and believe it to be no more than a simple rock.

That implies something out of the ordinary is going on, though being a hard-bitten scientist I hesitate to call it supernatural. Dani returned to her notes and as the limousine sped through the streets of Damascus, the policemen on point duty at the intersections waving the vehicles through without pause, she made a few corrections and additions, honing what she wanted to say to the world's press. The vehicles slowed at last and turned into a driveway guarded by heavy iron gates and armed guards, pulling up at the rear of an ugly brick building. The five members of the British team were led through a doorway into a dim corridor and thence up flights of stairs and along uncarpeted hallways to a small room.

Men and women withdrew as they passed, though a few curious looks were thrown their way. The sergeant and soldiers showed them into the room and closed the doors, remaining outside. The meeting room was almost devoid of furniture and did not look as if it was set up for a press conference.

There were only a few chairs around the edges of the room, a table in the middle of the room, but no podium, and nothing in the way of microphones or lighting. Daffyd looked pensive and when Dani met his eyes, he shrugged and looked away. He wandered over to the window and looked out through a grill to a drab interior courtyard. If we're not at the British Consulate by five this afternoon, the ambassador opens our letter and Bashir's involvement becomes public.

He wouldn't risk that. If Bashir tries anything, we throw him to the wolves. Al, Will and Bob are still out there, remember. He pulled out his tobacco and started rolling another cigarette. Then we have nothing. We have the letter at the Consulate. Daffyd lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply. Suddenly, it doesn't seem like very much. Don't forget, we're in a foreign country, and Bashir holds most of the other cards. Dani sat down on one of the chairs, out of the way, and opened her briefcase again.

She took out the golden scarab and slipped it into her jacket pocket. A presentiment of disaster was creeping over her and she wanted the artefact safe. The door opened, and Under-Minister Ahmed Bashir entered the room, flanked by his aide Nazim, and two soldiers carrying submachine guns. The soldiers took up positions where they could cover everyone in the room, while Nazim placed a chair for Bashir.

The decision was only made an hour ago. The five British expedition members stared at Bashir. Daffyd strode forward and the soldiers' machine guns swung toward him. He stopped abruptly, but Bashir waved the guards aside, holding the letter out to the Welshman.

Daffyd took the letter and unfolded it, quickly scanning the neat handwriting. He took a step forward and the guards' guns came up again. We are a civilised people in Syria. You will simply be put on a flight to England later today. I remember your threats of exposure and paid heed to them until I secured the letter you sent to your Consulate. However, I have now rendered your threats harmless. A fairy tale about finding a lost tomb? I think you would find very few people would believe you, and when I revealed that you had been deported for scientific irregularities, your standing at your university would reach rock bottom.

There are notebooks and transcribed texts from the chamber walls, photographs, and a handful of letters written to your colleagues in England. None of the letters contain proof, and you will not have access to any of the notes and photographs. Without those, you have nothing. Minister Bashir turned to his aide.

As we talk, their rooms at the hotel are being emptied of their possessions, as is the hotel safe. All they now own is what they have on their persons. So, gentlemen and ladies, if you would be so good as to empty the contents of your pockets and briefcase on the table, we can conclude our business today. Don't the English believe in playing the game? You have played and lost, so grin and bear it in a sportsmanlike fashion. Marc muttered an expletive but Bashir ignored him.

I have no wish to subject you to such indignities, but I will if you give me no choice. After a long hesitation, Dani took the golden scarab from her pocket and laid it on the table.

Although she and Daffyd knew it for what it was, a superbly crafted golden artefact from the time of the Amarnan kings, it was apparent nobody saw anything but a rounded brownish yellow pebble. Bashir knitted his brows and leaned across to pick up what looked to be a small sandstone rock, fumbling it as if it proved unexpectedly heavy. Dani shrugged, fighting to keep the concern off her face. Nothing of any value. What I'm wondering is why you keep it. You wouldn't begrudge me a memento, would you Minister?

I think I will keep it. There is a flight that will carry you home. I hardly need say that none of you are welcome to return to the United Arab Republic. You will take with you the clothes you wear and your passports. Your posturing comes to nothing, however, for Syria is an independent country and our laws apply here. Now run home with your tails between your legs and be thankful I do not hand you over to Arab justice. The soldiers ushered the five of them out into the corridor and marched them down flights of stairs again before leading them to small windowless rooms with steel doors.

The men were shown into one room and the women into another across the hallway, and the doors locked. Dani looked around the small cell, its only furnishings being an upright chair, a narrow pallet bed, and a round hole in one corner whence noxious odours arose. She crossed to the chair and sat down. They all had occasion to use the hole in the corner over the next few hours.

There was nothing else to do in the little cell except talk or sit and stare at the roughly plastered cement walls. Dani contemplated the loss of her golden scarab, admitting to herself that its absence preyed on her mind and left a void in her being that she would not have thought possible.

I was just wondering what we can do. It all belongs to Midland University, so they'll kick up a stink and get it back for us, isn't that right, Dani? Privately, she was not at all certain that anything could be done. Even if Bashir and the Syrian authorities played down their expulsion from the country, any attempt to wrest the notebooks and evidence from the Minister would almost certainly lead to charges being laid against the expedition of unscientific behaviour at the least, or even of attempted theft of historical artefacts.

As expedition leader, Dani could expect those charges to be aimed primarily at her. The outlook was grim, but she was not going to add to the worries of her companions by voicing her concerns. The soldiers came for them a few hours later and marched them outside to a small bus.

Any attempt at communication between the expedition members was interrupted by loud shouting and some shoving, and on board the bus they were seated as far apart as possible. Nazim was at the airport to meet them and hurry them through to the departure gate. He handed them their passports. It had nothing to do with the inscription. I do not think he will part with it, Dr Hanser.

You can see for yourself it has no intrinsic value, but it represents a memory for me. Now, your flight is boarding. They had no option but to board the flight and endure the many hours of travel back to England. They changed planes in Rome and Paris, and would have liked to sample the hospitality of those cities, but without funds could not leave the airports and were dependent on airline meals to satisfy their hunger. Daffyd and Marc spent the trip plotting revenge on Bashir and devising increasing wild scenarios whereby they beat him to the site of Scarab's tomb in Egypt. By journey's end, though, reality had sunk in and they became morose, staring out of the tiny windows at a featureless cloudscape.

Angela and Doris slept most of the way, too depressed to face conversation, but Dani spent the hours in thought. She felt herself on a watershed, where her previous academic life had led up to the Syrian Expedition, and now a whole new world lay in darkness before her. The dazzling prospect of a search for Scarab's tomb had been cruelly extinguished by Bashir's treachery, but she did not feel totally lost. The future lay in darkness but she had faith that the golden scarab would somehow return to her, lighting her way to eventual success.

Why else did it come to me in the first place, if not to reveal the chambers? And why do that if I wasn't meant to find the tomb? The thought was foreign to her scientific mind, and made no sense in a materialistic universe, but Dani could not shake the feeling that the adventure was not yet over. The loss of the translations was of great importance in proving the existence of the chambers to university committees, but she could remember whole swathes of the account that she had laboriously translated over the weeks and months.

She could probably reconstruct the gist of the account from memory, and probably the descriptions of the tomb's position. Even without the golden scarab, she might be able to find the tomb of Smenkhkare and Scarab once she found herself in Egypt. Dani clung to that thought as they descended through rainclouds into British airspace. They landed at London's Heathrow airport and changed planes for Derby and thence by bus to Chesterfield of the twisted spire and Midland University, where a grim-faced university official waited for them.

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The Amarnan Kings Series by Max Overton

The Amarnan Kings, Book 6: Reviews Read the First Chapter! Please sign in to add review. Prologue Death is not what I thought it would be. Chapter One The streets of Damascus were choked with traffic and the hordes of people on the footpaths were a daunting prospect for the five foreigners who stepped out of the foyer of the Intercontinental Hotel. Drop items here to shop.

Fall of the House of Ramesses, Book 1: Fall of the House of Ramesses, Book 2: Fall of the House of Ramesses, Book 3: Scythian Trilogy Book 1: Scythian Trilogy Book 2: We wait on Book 6 of The Amarnan Kings: Scarab - Descendant to see if Dani can do as well as her ancestor against the greed and ambition of present-day despots! This entire series was an amazing way of looking at the 18th Dynasty as opposed to what we know from the history books. Why couldn't Smenkhare and Tut have died at the same time, why couldn't Moses have been a previous king who disappeared for years but continued in is "odd" belief that there was only one God?

So many times throughout the first five books, and caught myself smiling at the in-depth research and story telling of these "what ifs. The last book was a very different feel, but equally as good. A perfect way to wrap up the present-day story, and also a few good finishing touches on Scarab's story.

This entire series goes down on my favorites of all time list, and I wish more people knew about it! Author kept my attention for sur. I love Egypt and it's history and it did feed my "desire" in reading about it. I suppose, history does not really apply as I had never heard of Pharaos in Syria before.

Now I will have to read up on this! Good reading though, I loved it and wish there would be more of this type. The Amarnan Kings series is a very readable, off-beat, and entertaining group of books. It has about any genre you might look for - from archaeology, to mystery, to fantasy, and a new take on ancient Egyptian religion and life in ancient times. Each book is a fairly complete story in itself, with enough hints to make you want to get the next book. This story was so unbelievable it was a waste of time to even read it.

I cannot believe the author would try to make anyone believe that Ahkenaten turned himself into Moses and that Horhenhab was the pharoah that died when God flooded the river. This whole set of books were great. I read one right after the other so I could find out what was going to happen next. You need to make sure you read them in order or your history is going to be messed up. If you enjoy ancient Egypt, read this set.

I really think you will like the Scarab series.

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To get the full understanding you must read the 6 books in sequence to really appreciate the beauty of the novel. The book brought tears to my eyes more than once. The history, intrigue and suspense makes this a great story. Without a doubt the Amarnan Kings is the best series about Ancient Egypt I have ever had the pleasure to read! I wish and hope in the future Max Overton may once again provide us with joy of another series!

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