Page 6 of The Eyes of Tamburah
“And here is the big man himself. King Tamburah overlooking his followers, making judgments. Unfortunately for his people he rarely ruled in their favor,” Banqui said.
The king’s expression was smug despite the deeply carved and empty eye sockets. Red sand lined the sockets and red sand tears dripped down the cheeks.
“According to the legends, Tamburah would gaze into a prisoner’s eyes, reading his or her soul with his magic,” he said. “If he detected guilt of any crime, the accused was secured to the altar where Tamburah removed the criminal’s eyes. The royal artist would engrave the poor soul’s new likeness on the wall before the prisoner was taken outside to await the sun’s punishment. We uncovered a deep pit full of bones next to the temple.”
Swallowing down a nervous cough, she said, “Legends are not historical facts, Banqui. No doubt he was ruthless, cruel, and evil. There are records that thousands of people died during his reign, but there is nothing to support he used magic.”
Undaunted, Banqui continued, “His temple corroborates what was written on the tablets. It contains twelve underground levels. The two lower levels were his living quarters. They’re complicated mazes of hidden rooms and corridors littered with some interesting traps.”
Only Banqui thought traps were interesting. Many archeologists died by inadvertently setting them off.
“Was the vault booby trapped?” she asked.
“Of course. Good thing the bones of a treasure hunter tipped me off.” He huffed with amusement. “First time one of those blasted hunters did something useful.”
Tamburah’s vault was located on level twelve. Banqui led her down a spiral staircase. By the time they reached the bottom, the druk lantern shone with an orange light.
“Stay close,” he said. “Touch nothing.”
She remained one step behind him as they wove through rooms and hallways. Other than the sand crunching under their boots, the place was silent. A musty stale odor scented the thin air.
“Banqui, did you clear all the ventilation holes?”
“In the upper floors. I didn’t want anyone deeper than level nine.”
“What—”
“The air is fine. Besides, we won’t be here long.”
He halted and hung the lantern on a nearby hook. The light revealed a rectangular shape that had been carved into the stone. Banqui pulled a knife and dug into it with the point of his blade. A horrendous scraping echoed in the room as Banqui opened a thick door. He gestured her inside. The space was just big enough to fit three, maybe four people.
He pointed to a shelf on the back wall. “The container with The Eyes was the only item in the vault. The gemstones had been removed from Tamburah’s mural to keep them safe from treasure hunters.”
She stepped closer. “May I?”
Banqui handed her the lantern. “Go ahead.” He waited in the threshold.
Shyla shone the light on the walls, examining them. An involuntary yelp sprang from her lips when she found the skeleton of a hunter slumped against the left corner.
“Don’t worry,” Banqui called. “I’ve disabled the trap. Those slits on the walls are for the sword blades. Trigger the trap and they’d shoot out, impaling the would-be thief.” He chuckled. Banqui hated treasure hunters.
After peering at every centimeter, she inspected the stone shelf. A line of tiny symbols had been etched across the edge. “Did you see these?”
“Yes. Probably a warning about the booby trap.”
Focusing on the script, she transcribed the symbols. “It also includes a warning that The Eyes are cursed.”
“That’s standard.” Banqui didn’t sound worried.
Nor should he. Curses and magic—both nonexistent. Shyla continued her examination, running her hand over the shelf. Smooth except for a rough patch in the middle. Rising up to her tiptoes, she shone the light on an unknown graphic. Odd. Tracing it with a fingertip, she realized it’d been carved recently. “Banqui, I’ve found something.”
He joined her.
She pointed. “Was this here when you found The Eyes?”
“No.” Banqui studied the glyph. “Scorching hells,” he whispered.
Her pulse skittered. “What does it mean?”
