Phantoms of the Pharaoh Page 8

"Oh," said Abigail, somewhat embarrassed. "I'm very sorry."

  "That's all right my dear, it was several years ago now. I am making things a bit more complicated than they need to be. I'm generally called Lady Sandown when in formal company. However, because my eldest son is now known as Lord Sandown, if he were to marry, then his wife would become Lady Sandown and I would be referred to as Frances, Lady Marmalade."

  "I see," said Abigail, beginning to appreciate the nuances of peerage.

  "Am I boring you, dear?" asked Frances.

  "Oh no, good heavens no," said Abigail, shaking her head vigorously. "It's all fascinating, but there's quite a bit to it."

  "There is, but you'll get accustomed to it. In short, I am really Lady Sandown, Eric and I made things a little more complicated by trying to make them more equal and just. My husband would have been known as Lord Sandown, and then my eldest son, who would be the heir apparent, would take the next available title which would make him the Earl of Wollinghamshire and he would be addressed as Lord Wollinghamshire. My daughter would simply be known as Lady Amelia. Amelia is her first name. All other children of mine would be known either as Lord or Lady and then their first name. It is also common that they'd be known as Lord or Lady then their first name and then surname. So my daughter Amelia, often goes by Lady Amelia Branham. Does that help?"

  Abigail nodded her head.

  "It helps immensely, I think I'm starting to understand it now. But your husband is now dead, so why do you keep using your lowest title?"

  "I only use it in informal situations, and primarily because that's what I've been used to for so long. It also reminds me of my late husband and our family is well known for the jam marmalade. For all those reasons, I just haven't bothered changing it."

  "That's fascinating," said Abigail. "Thank you so much for sharing that with me."

  "You're welcome," said Frances, getting back to eating her tabouli.

  Abigail leaned in and glanced over at the table next to her.

  "Do you know how Lady Pompress got her title at all?" she asked in a hushed voice.

  Frances nodded and finished chewing her food.

  "I do. She married Mr. Stanley Pompress who was knighted for his work during the Second World War, and who sadly died too early."

  "When was that?" asked Abigail.

  "Please forgive my sister," said Albert, "she's very curious."

  "Not at all," said Frances. "Stanley died late last year if I recall correctly."

  "That's scandalous," said Abigail, "that she's traipsing around the world with someone so soon."

  "Some would suggest that," said Frances, finishing the rest of her tabouli.

  Frances glanced at the menu card that she pulled out from under her bowl that once held tabouli. The next dish up was the main course. It consisted of lamb kebabs with ful medames on the side as well as sliced and cold eggs with a garnish of baba ghanoush and pita.

  Frances knew baba ghanoush as she'd had it before, but ful medames was something she hadn't heard of. She hadn't recalled eating anything like it before on her earlier trips to Egypt. But she enjoyed surprises, the good kind, and usually food was always a good surprise. Her palate was comfortable with new tastes and experiences.

  "Have you ever had ful medames before?" she asked Florence.

  Florence shook her head, so she looked over at Albert and Abigail. They shook their heads too.

  "The only thing that I know on this menu is the lamb. That tabouli was nice, but I'd never had it before," said Albert.

  Abigail nodded in agreement. Fowler stepped up in front of the four tables, in the middle of them and faced them all.

  "I've had some questions about the meal," he said. "Good questions."

  Light laughter erupted from the tables.

  "As best as we can, we are trying to give you an authentic experience here in Egypt. The meal you'll be enjoying today is Egyptian. However, there will be the comforts of English food once we're on the cruise. That first dish you enjoyed was called tabouli. It is an Egyptian salad made of bulgur as well as parsley and mint, which you could probably tell with onions and garlic, tomatoes and lemon for flavor. Did you like it?"

  Fowler looked around at the crowd and grinned at them. Just about all of those seated nodded except for Lady Pompress who had pushed her plate aside after taking one taste. She sat at an angle in her chair, fanning herself with a fan that she had taken out of her bag. She was clearly not impressed. Fowler wisely ignored her.

  "Next up is a lamb kebab. This is tender seasoned lamb on a skewer. You'll love it. It's accompanied with ful medames which are mashed and seasoned fava beans seasoned with parsley, onions, lemon juice, olive oil and garlic. It is delicious."

  Fowler looked down at the menu card which he held in his hand.

  "Eggs you know about."

  He looked up and grinned at the crowd, there was soft laughter as encouragement.

  "Baba ghanoush is a dish of mashed grilled eggplant seasoned with garlic, onion, olive oil, lemon juice etcetera. Are you starting to see the theme?"

  He looked up at them with a raised eyebrow to more soft chuckles.

  "The baba ghanoush can be eaten on its own, but I encourage you to tear off the bits of pita, which is a flat bread and use that to scoop it up and eat it. I love all this food, in fact, if you don't like it, I'll be coming round for the leftovers."

  More chuckles.

  "Your waiters will be coming round now with the main dish. Please let your waiters know what type of wine you'll be having. There is a nicely chilled Riesling at hand, or if you prefer red, we have a full bodied Pinot Noir. Either wine has been chosen to go perfectly with the dish."

  As Fowler finished, the waiters came by, and dropped of ample plates of food. Just looking at it, Frances knew it would be too much for her in one go. It did smell warm and delicious. The olive oil, lemon and garlic were the first aromas that wafted up from the food.

  Everyone at Lady Marmalade's table chose Riesling after Frances asked first. The waiters came back with the delightfully chilled white wine. Looking around, there were only two men who chose the Pinot Noir. That was Samuel Newton and Nigel Durmott sitting at the far table.

  Everybody started on their food. Frances picked at everything. She found it all quite delicious. As they started to eat, Fowler stepped up in front of the group again.

  "Please don't mind me. Continue eating at your leisure. I'll just be going over some of the itinerary for this afternoon, as well as offering some insights into the pyramids and other artifacts that are viewable here."

  Frances looked up and took a sip of wine, enjoying the view of the pyramids from where she sat.

  "That Great Pyramid of Giza or Khufu, also known as Cheops is the largest pyramid in the world. It is however, only one of what some believe to be over one hundred pyramids in Egypt. Interestingly, the Great Pyramid of Giza, which you see practically right in front of us," said Fowler, as he turned and drew his arms away from his body to encompass the pyramid, "is not only the oldest of the Seven Wonders of the World, but it is also the only one of these wonders that has survived."

  Fowler paused to give his audience time to take it all in. There were raised eyebrows and nodding heads, and upturned mouths.

  "Amongst the twelve of you, can we name the other six wonders?"

  Fowler looked around from face to face and table to table. He came to Frances' table last. Frances knew all the Seven Wonders, but she didn't want to be a braggart about it, so she gently nudged Florence. Florence looked at her.

  "But you know them all," she said quietly.

  "And you know them all too," said Frances.

  "Not anymore I don't."

  "Mrs. Hudnall, do you know one of them?" asked Fowler, looking at her steadily with a kind face.

  "I do know one," she said.

  "Good," said Fowler, "would you mind getting us started then?"

  "The Hanging Gardens of Babylon."

  "Quite correct," said
Fowler, nodding and smiling at her. He then looked over at the next table. "That is one point for the A Team. Would the B Team like to name one?"

  "I didn't know this was a competition," said Lady Pompress, somewhat frustrated.

  "Just a friendly competition to get us going," said Fowler unperturbed.

  Lady Pompress whispered in Captain Wainscott's ear.

  "Yes I know, but why don't you say it."

  She whispered something else in his ear.

  "Very well," said Wainscott, visibly upset. Then he tried to put on a brave smile. "B Team would like to offer the Statue of Zeus at Olympia."

  "Well done, B Team. Ladies and gentleman," said Fowler. "We have a tie for first place with both the A Team and B Team in the lead with one point. Can C Team make it a three way tie?"

  Fowler looked over at the third table with the four single men at it. The three men except for Samuel Newton looked around at each other, shrugging their shoulders. Newton took the cigarette he was smoking out of his mouth.

  "The Lighthouse of Alexandria," he said, in a deep but quite voice.

  "Well played gentleman. We now have a three way tie. There are three remaining wonders of the world left. C Team?"

  Fowler was met with blank stares, so he turned to the B Team.

  "B Team?"

  Mahulda whispered into her grandmother's ear.

  "The Temple of Artemis," said Orpha, smiling confidently.

  "That is correct. Do you know any of the other two?" asked Fowler.

  Orpha looked at her granddaughter but Mahulda shook her head. Lady Pompress said something to Captain Wainscott.

  "I don't know any of the others," he said quite frustrated.

  Fowler turned to Lady Marmalade's table.

  "A Team," he said as dramatically as possible. "B Team is in the lead. If you know the remaining two wonders you could clinch the win. If not, the best you can do is tie."

  "And what do we get if we win?" asked Florence cheekily.

  "My undying gratitude for finishing the game so we can get on with the rest of the program."

  He grinned at her.

  "Well?" he asked.

  "The Mausoleum at Halicarnassus and the Colossus of Rhodes," said Frances.

  "God bless you," said Fowler cheekily. "Those are indeed the Seven Wonders of the World. The Great Pyramid of Giza, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, the Temple of Artemis, Statue of Zeus at Olympia, Mausoleum at Halicarnassus, the Colossus of Rhodes and finally the Lighthouse of Alexandria. The first one, which stands before you like a champion, is the only one remaining in our modern era."

  Everyone got back to their food. Frances had only managed about a third of her plate at this point. It was delicious, but it was filling, the tabouli hadn't helped and there was still one of her favorites coming up. For dessert they were being offered basbousa, a sweet cake made from semolina and soaked in a simple syrup that often included orange water or rose water, topped with nuts and sometimes coconut.

  "The Great Pyramid of Giza was built for the pharaoh Khufu as a tomb for keeping his decaying remains. Astonishing to think that up to one hundred thousand men would have labored for twenty years to build what is essentially a coffin. Though quite a magnificent coffin if I might say so myself."

  Fowler turned to look at the pyramid for a moment, to give emphasis to his words. He then turned back to the four tables.

  "It is believed to have been finished around 2560BC, and it remained the tallest manmade structure until the Lincoln Cathedral was completed, in 1311 I believe."

  "Will we find Khufu's mummy in there?" asked Simon Gragg, hoping to send shivers up the spines of the women present.

  "I'm afraid not," said Fowler. "The sarcophagus is there, it weighs almost four tons, but the cover of the sarcophagus is missing as is the body of Khufu, if indeed he was even buried there. Most think he must have been, but there are others and legends that back them up that suggest that he might not have ever been buried there."

  "That's a shame," said Gragg.

  "Perhaps, though legend has it, that anyone found pilfering anything from the pyramids of Egypt will be felled in time. It has been said that the pharaohs had their priests cast horrible spells around the chambers to protect the mummified bodies of the pharaohs, and we've heard of some archaeologists falling ill and dying after disturbing the inner chambers.

  "Poppycock," said Maurice.

  Fowler looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

  "Perhaps. Nevertheless, it is illegal to remove anything from the pyramids and from this area in general, and I'll ask you to not do so."

  Fowler looked sternly at everyone present as they finished up their meal.

  "Once you've had a chance to finish eating and let it settle, we'll tour the Great Pyramid of Giza. After that we'll take a look inside the Pyramid of Khafre which is the middle sized pyramid and then we'll finish up with a look into the Pyramid of Menkaure, the smallest pyramid here. After we've finished with those three pyramids it should bring us to around three p.m. You'll have the last hour to hour and a half, until four thirty to tour the rest of the complex by yourself, or join me as I show you around the Great Sphinx and the other areas around her including the necropolis that contains other such artifacts such as mortuary temples and the Queens' pyramids. Do you have any questions?"

  "What sort of an egomaniac was this Khufu fellow to spend so much time, perhaps money and manpower on his own pyramid over twenty years?" asked Florence.

  Fowler chuckled.

  "I think you're quite right. I think he was quite the egomaniac. Though in seriousness, we don't know much about his life, though the Greek historian Herodotus didn't have anything nice to say about him. He called him an heretic and a cruel and vindictive tyrant. According to Herodotus, Khufu, who the Greeks knew as Cheops even sent his daughter into prostitution to help pay for his pyramid. We think he ruled for anywhere between twenty-five and thirty-five years, followed by his brother Khafre. Herodotus has a similar feeling for Khafre as he did for Khufu."

  "I see," said Florence. "That takes a bit of the shine off of the myth."

  "It certainly does," said Fowler. "These men, at least by some accounts, were not benevolent rulers, but rather seemed more like egotistical maniacs. I always like to keep that in mind when I'm looking in awe at the majesty of these ancient monuments. Pause for a moment to think not of Khufu, who might well have been a tyrant, but the tens of thousands of men who labored for years. How many of them probably died in the building of this monument to one man's ego?"

  Fowler looked around as the mood under that white canopy turned somber for a moment.

  "But we must still enjoy it, to be sure, we can enjoy the accomplishment of men with very little in the way of technology."

  The waiters came by and cleared the plates. Frances had only managed to eat half of it. Florence being a little bigger than she left but a third. It wasn't long before the waiters came out with the basbousa, and Fowler continued talking in his deep baritone, offering gems of history mixed with mythology.

  Seven

  The lunch had been marvelous and the day was getting warmer. The group following Fowler in his safari hat and khakis was easy to spot, there were six white and off white colored umbrellas amongst them. One for each of the women in the group. Two of the waiters were still with them, carrying large bottles of water around their shoulders and refilling paper cups for the group of tourists as needed.

  Fowler had guided them through the Great Pyramid of Giza as well as the Pyramid of Khafre. Coming out into the bright warm sunlight as they did, Frances welcomed the wall of warm air. The interiors of the pyramids were cool, but that was not to say they were cold, rather much cooler than the outside temperature. When they had left lunch and headed towards the Great Pyramid, Frances had noticed a thermometer near by that had put the temperature at almost twenty-nine degrees centigrade. Not that she was an expert at determining temperatures but heading deep into the Great Pyramid she would have bee
n surprised if it were more than twenty degrees.

  Fowler gathered them close. They were situated at the southeast corner of the Pyramid of Khafre, not far from the boat pits. Fowler looked at his watch. It was just past two thirty.

  "We're making good time," he said. "This last pyramid here," and he turned more towards the south and pointed with this right hand to the Pyramid of Menkaure, "is the last of the three pyramids we'll be looking at while here in Giza."

  Lady Pompress stood at the back of the group and ordered Captain Wainscott to get her some water, which he dutifully did.

  "These three pyramids," continued Fowler, "from the Great Pyramid of Giza to the Pyramid of Khafre and now to the Pyramid of Menkaure, are all related. Khufu or Cheops as the Greeks knew him, was the father of Khafre who was the father of Menkaure. What we're really talking about here then, is a dynasty. A dynasty of pharaohs from the same family who obviously thought quite highly of themselves."

  Polite laughter erupted from the crowd. Samuel wiped at his forehead and took off his fedora and waved it as his face. Frances wasn't sure why he was wearing a fedora, it was too hot out here for a hat like that, even if it did keep the sun out of your eyes.

  The other men all wore safari hats which were a much better idea. Although they were all in light shirts, Samuel didn't seem to be enjoying the temperature as much as the other men. Even Simon with his pale complexion seemed to not mind the heat.

  At twenty-nine, the temperature was pushing at Lady Marmalade's comfort level. She enjoyed the heat, but even she had to confess that getting into the thirties was too much for even her to bear.

  "I don't want to keep you out here long," said Fowler. "It's getting quite warm, but there is a fascinating story about this Pyramid of Menkaure. Legend has it that there was separate network of chambers that aren't accessible from the main pyramid. It is believed that these chambers actually held the sarcophagus of Menkaure, as well as treasures that would be the envy of even our King George."

  "I thought the sarcophagus of Menkaure was sunk in the Mediterranean?" asked Nigel.

  "Quite right," said Fowler, flashing his big smile. "That is indeed the official story. On October the 13th, 1838, the ship Beatrice sank on its way to Great Britain, allegedly carrying the sarcophagus of Menkaure. However, there was told a story about a secret passageway that led into the Pyramid of Menkaure from this closest queen's pyramid to us. That true pyramid you see here."