Lady of Heaven (18 page)

            ~ FS

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Silently, Fox
reached out and plucked the magnificent antique ring from the palm of Morgan’s
hand.  He inspected it closely, all the while thinking what he was going to say
to her. Even though he’d been engaged once, he hadn’t actually proposed;
she
had. Therefore, this was virgin territory. He wanted to do it right.   

“I don’t even
know where to start,” his eyes came up from the ring, focusing on Morgan’s
beautiful face. “All I can tell you is that the moment you walked into the
museum twenty nine days ago, it was like I was reborn. I can’t even remember
when you haven’t occupied every thought of every moment of every waking day. 
You’ve made me experience joy and contentment like I never knew existed and
it’s occurred to me that, for the first time in my life, I actually know what
it’s like to be in love. I’ve never really known that feeling until now. I
can’t think of a greater honor than becoming your husband, Morgan. I really
hope you’ll give me that privilege.”

By this time,
the humor was gone from Morgan’s face and she was watching him with great
crocodile tears in her eyes.  She blinked and they spattered onto her cheeks.

“That is the
sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” she whispered. “Are you sure?”

“Never more sure
of anything in my life.”

“You’re not just
saying all of this because you’ve got a million dollar ring and an audience?”

The corner of
his mouth twitched. “I’d say it without either of those things. I’m saying it
because I feel it in my heart.”

She wiped at her
wet cheeks. “I feel it, too,” she murmured. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

Fox grinned,
full on, and swept her into his big arms, holding her off the floor.  Morgan
wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, listening to Allahaba
translate Fox’s proposal and Ziva bursting into happy tears. 

Both Morgan and
Fox laughed as the woman wept, eventually losing themselves in a kiss that was
powerful and passionate, full of emotion and feeling. Fox kissed her cheeks,
her forehead, finally setting her gently to her feet and slipping the ring onto
her left hand.  It was a snug fit but not uncomfortable. Morgan watched him
kiss the ring after he slipped it on her finger, giving her a confident wink
for good measure.

“There,” he
turned to Allahaba and his wife with a mixture of irritation and joy.
“Satisfied?”

Allahaba clapped
Fox on the arm in congratulations while his wife wiped at her cheeks. She said
something to her husband in Arabic and rushed off to the rear of the shop,
disappearing through the back door.  Allahaba began to pull Fox and Morgan with
him.

“Come,” he told them.
“Let us celebrate this wonderful day. My wife will bring us refreshment.”

Fox couldn’t
refuse so he took Morgan by the hand as Allahaba led them into the rear of the
shop where a big, cluttered table and a few ratty chairs await.  A fat gray cat
sat upon a stack of old books, dozing, and Morgan stroked the cat as she took a
seat. 

Morgan kept
looking at her ring as Fox chatted with Allahaba, thinking the whole situation
felt surreal. She was so happy that she literally felt as if she was walking on
clouds; there was a tremendous lightness in her heart. It was all happening so
fast but she knew that it was right; it had been right from the beginning. All
joy aside, however, she reminded herself that she and Fox were here for a very
serious reason. She struggled not to lose sight of it and hoped Fox wouldn’t
lose sight, too.

Morgan continued
to sit silently as Fox and Allahaba caught up on the past few years.  Every so
often, Fox would wink at her or squeeze her hand, letting her know she was not
forgotten.  As the sun hit its peak in the smoggy Cairo sky, Ziva and two young
girls brought out trays of food and drink.  Ziva produced a very dark, sweet
tea and boiled fruit juice while the young girls offered Morgan a selection of
something called
Halva
, which was a combination of nuts and rose water
in a paste, plus
Knafe
, which was phyllo dough, sweet ricotta cheese and
pistachios, and other delectable items.

 Morgan took a
little of everything and sipped at the dark, sweet tea as Fox began to turn the
conversation with Allahaba towards Morgan’s great-grandparents.  It was clever
the way he did it, subtle yet with purpose. With her mouth full of baklava,
Morgan suddenly found herself the center of the conversation.

“So your
great-grandparents were devotees to Egyptian history?” Allahaba asked her.
“When did they visit Egypt?”

Morgan
discreetly swallowed the bite in her mouth. “In 1922,” she told him, wondering
just how much she should reveal. “They visited right after they were married.”

Allahaba nodded
with interest. “Back in those days, the wealthy Europeans would spend their
winters in Egypt and, sorry to say, buy or steal every artifact they could come
across. Belzoni and the others made sure of that,” he shrugged his shoulders
carelessly. “My family made a fortune off of the Europeans, especially the
British. I cannot fathom the items my grandfather and great-grandfather sold to
the rich, pieces of our history that should have stayed in Egypt.”

Fox toyed with
his teacup, knowing that Allahaba mostly meant the British. “Too bad that your
family didn’t keep records of what they sold,” he said. “We might have an idea
of what kinds of priceless pieces they had.”

Allahaba lifted
an eyebrow. “But they did keep records,” he insisted. “Going back three hundred
years, everything my family has sold is written down.  I have an entire chest
full of old sales records.  I, too, will write down the ring I have given you
and note it as a gift to a friend. That way, my children and their children
will know what I have done and they will learn to be generous as well.  We are
blessed and in turn, we are generous. Allah favors the generous.”

Fox nodded
faintly. “I’d love to see the sales records someday, especially around the turn
of the century. It would be very interesting to see what kinds of items you
family has sold over the years.” He took a generous bite of the
Knafe
.
“You were commissioned with some of the artifacts from the Edfu find, weren’t
you?”

Allahaba nodded.
“I was,” he nodded. “The Supreme Council of Antiquities allowed that I should
represent a few of the pieces for them that were in turn sold through auction
to fine collectors. Of course, it helps that I have a brother-in-law that works
for the SCA.”

He winked at
Morgan as he said it and she chuckled.  But he seemed rather bitter about the
wealthy Europeans who had basically raped Egypt for artifacts around the turn
of the century so she wasn’t about to tell him what a massive collection her
great-grandparents had accumulated.  She looked to Fox, waiting for him to take
the lead in the conversation.  Fox caught her glance and took the hint.

“Actually, I
wanted to pick your brain on something,” he said to Allahaba. “I’m working on a
project and it’s been a bit of a puzzle.”

“Puzzle?”
Allahaba’s eyes lit up. “I love puzzles. What do you wish to know?”

Fox didn’t
hesitate. “What do you know about the mythical city of Ranthor?”

Allahaba’s
eyebrows rose. “Ranthor?” he repeated. “It is the City of the Gods, my friend.
What about it?”

“Do you believe
it existed?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

Allahaba lifted
his hands as if grasping for reasons. “Because the Dendera papyrus speaks of
it,” he said. “It is considered to be an authentic description of the City of
the Gods from a reliable source, the scribe Hepti who served the pharaoh Ka. 
Most scholars agree on this account.”

“Ka?” Morgan
repeated. “When did he rule?”

Fox turned to
her. “He’s pre-dynastic,” he told her. “He preceded King Narmer, the first king
of the first Egyptian dynasty. Narmer is also known as King Catfish.”

“Why?”

“Because his
name is written as a chisel above a catfish; hence, King Catfish.”

As Morgan nodded
in understanding, Allahaba continued with his knowledge of Ranthor.

“It is said that
during the reign of the Gods that Egypt was very green, like an oasis, and there
was plenty of water and grass,” he went on. “Ranthor is said to have been in
the valley of the Syene, which is rumored to be located in the Red Hills that
stretch across Eastern Egypt to the Red Sea.”

Morgan couldn’t
help it; he’d just repeated, nearly verbatim, what her great-grandmother’s
papyrus said and her shock was evident. She asked the obvious question before
Fox could stop her.

“How do you know
that it’s in the Syene?” she asked. “Where did you hear that?”

Allahaba smiled
at her. “My father would tell me stories about Ranthor and the valley of the
Syene,” he told her, sipping on his tea. “To tell you the truth, my father
heard the story from his father, who at one time was in possession of a papyrus
that told a very great story. But my grandfather was a very foolish man; he
fell in love with a British woman who talked him into selling her the papyrus
that described the resting place of the gods.”

Morgan didn’t
dare look at Fox; she was stunned.  She sat like stone as Fox, quite calmly,
sipped at his tea.  If he was surprised, he didn’t show it; the man had an
impeccable poker face.

  “Do you
believe such a papyrus really existed?” Fox asked casually. “Think about it; if
something like that really existed, it would advance Egyptology to unfathomable
heights. It would be mind-blowing to say the least.”

Allahaba
shrugged. “My grandfather said that he translated the papyrus for this woman,”
he replied. “It spoke of the sacred valley of apes, of Ranthor, and of the
final resting place of the most high. He called it the Lady of Heaven papyrus.
In all of your studies, have you ever heard of such an artifact?”  

Morgan choked on
her tea, throwing a napkin over her mouth and assuring Fox and Allahaba that
she was fine when they looked to her with concern. As she struggled to recover,
Fox continued to remain as cool as ice.

“What did you
mean by saying the final resting place of the most high?” he asked, hoping
Allahaba wouldn’t notice that he didn’t answer his question. “Who is the most
high?”

Allahaba’s dark
eyes took on a distant cast. “The greatest lady of all,” he assured him softly.
“The mighty Isis.”

Fox’s eyebrows
lifted. “Isis’ tomb?”

Allahaba nodded
faintly. “It is possible.”

Fox pursed his
lips thoughtfully but Morgan’s hand on his arm stopped him from continuing the
conversation. She was still coughing from having choked on her tea and he
turned to her, concerned.

“Are you all
right, love?” he asked.

“No,” she shook
her head, sputtering. “I really don’t feel well. I know you haven’t seen
Allahaba in years and I’m sorry to cut this short, but I would really like to
return to the hotel.”

Fox was already
on his feet before she finished speaking. “Sure,” he helped her stand up,
making sure to collect her giant straw purse with all of their bazaar booty in
it.  “We can come back and visit with Allahaba another time; let’s get you back
to the hotel.”

Fox had all of
her stuff so Morgan kept the napkin to her mouth as she continued to cough.
“I’m really sorry,” she turned to Allahaba. “I was hoping to get to know you a
little better so I’m really sorry that I’m not feeling all that well right
now.”

Allahaba was
following them to the door. “Not to worry,” he assured her. “There will be
plenty of time for us to know each other.”

Morgan smiled
weakly, so anxious to leave that she couldn’t even describe it. She kept moving
for the door with Fox and Allahaba behind her.

“Thank you,” she
said sincerely. “And thank you so much for the ring. It’s the best wedding gift
we could ever hope for. It’ll be a treasure that Fox and I will keep for our
children as well. Maybe we can give it another two thousand years of use in the
same family.”

Allahaba laughed
softly. “You are welcome, Mrs. Fox. May God go with you.”

They were at the
ancient door of the shop, the warped panel that had seen better days.  Morgan
waved at Allahaba as Fox closed in behind her, holding her in one hand and
clutching her big straw bag with the other.  She continued to hold the napkin
to her mouth as they wound their way out of the bazaar, fending off the
children selling candy and purses as they retraced their steps beneath the big
Moorish arch.

“Is there
anything I can get for you?” Fox asked her gently. “Do we need to stop by a
chemist on our way back to the hotel?”

She shook her
head vigorously and the napkin came away from her mouth. “Did you hear what he
said?” she finally burst.

He was
unruffled. “I did.”

She looked at
him. “How can you be so calm about this?” she demanded. “He said that his
grandfather sold my great-grandmother the Lady of Heaven papyrus; worse yet, he
said his grandfather was in love with her!”