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The Sands of Time - Instalment Eight

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Egypt, 1798

Captain Jean Tombier led the general deep into the building. He had led him first to the pyramid itself, and then inside the maze of passageways found and cleared by the archaeologists.

The general had carefully avoided the rubble which still littered the floor, and had seemed unperturbed when a swarm of bats swept past them squealing in rage. He followed Tombier in near silence towards the heart of the pyramid, blazing torch held high so that he could see the magnificence of the edifice, could marvel at the colour and intricacy of the graphics on the walls.

Now they stood at last outside the King's Chamber, the centre of the pyramid. 'We are here, sir.' Tombier made to enter the chamber, but he felt the general's hand on his shoulder, pulling him back.

'I think not, Jean,' the general said. 'This I must see alone.' He smiled in the gloom, and patted Jean's shoulder. Then he turned, and was gone.

Tombier waited for what seemed like hours. At first he could hear the general's boots ringing on the stone floor of the chamber. But after a while the sound stopped, and he was alone with his breathing and his thoughts.

His torch was burning low. If they did not start back soon, they would not have enough light to find their way to the entrance. Tombier bit at his lower lip and weighed up the unpleasant alternatives: risk having to grope out of the pyramid in darkness, past the fallen rubble and the bats, round the sudden holes in the floor that dropped away forever; or brave the general's wrath if he disturbed him without good cause.

He was reaching the point where he thought he had good cause, when there was a sudden blaze of light from inside the chamber. Brilliant whiteness blazed out into the corridor and imprinted a negative image of the doorway on Tombier's retina. 'Sir,' he shouted, 'general!' and stumbled towards the doorway. He collided first with the wall, and then, just as his eyes fought to re-adjust, with the general as he left the chamber.

'What was it, sir? What happened, what did you see?'

Even in the dim light, his sight washed out by the sudden flash, Tombier could see that the general was pale as death. His hand shook as he pushed his hair out of the way. He seemed to notice, and pushed it inside the front of his jacket. 'Nothing,' he said eventually, 'I saw nothing.'

'Nothing? But the light - I saw -'

'I tell you, there was nothing. Nothing happened here. If anyone asks, I went into the chamber, stayed a few moments, then left.'

Tombier stared at him. He would not question the orders of his general, but clearly something was wrong.

The general clapped him on the back and tried to smile. Instead his mouth stretched into a grimace. 'One day, perhaps, I will tell you about it. One day I may be able to discuss it with you over a cognac while armies burn behind us. One day, perhaps. But not today.' He turned and looked back towards the entrance to the chamber. 'No,' he said softly, 'not today.'

Tombier led the way out of the Great Pyramid in silence. It was the only time that he saw Napoleon Buonaparte afraid.

Chapter Eleven

The next morning Tegan was not at her best. She survived the cottonwool cloud that was breakfast, feeling revived by copious quantities of orange juice washed down with strong coffee. By the middle of the morning she was feeling decidedly better, and eagerly agreed to accompany the Doctor when he suggested he was going to examine Nyssa again.

Atkins was waiting for them in the hall. Probably, Tegan thought, he was a bit bored and lost. But of course he did not show it, any more than he showed any real emotion.

Within a few minutes, it was Tegan who was feeling bored and lost. The Doctor was listening for Nyssa's heartbeat with an ear trumpet pressed to her chest. 'Best not to disturb anything at this late stage,' he said when Tegan asked if they could remove some of the bandages. She desperately wanted to see Nyssa's face again, to check that she at least looked well and peaceful.

Disappointed, she wandered despondently round the room, glancing at the various relics on their shelves and tables. Atkins was examining some of them in detail, apparently fascinated by the pieces. Tegan gave each a cursory glance, then moved on. Only one of the exhibits she looked at did she find at all interesting. It was a bound collection of the notes and drawings from Kenilworth's expedition. She flicked through it, noticing odd torn pages from Simons' notebook which had been glued on to larger sheets and then bound in with the other notes and sketches.

'Hey, Doctor, look at this,' she called at one point, but he merely grunted and continued his examination of the inert body.

'Please yourself,' Tegan grumbled, looking round to see if Atkins was interested. But he seemed engrossed in a display of necklaces. Tegan looked again at her sketch of the excavations outside the pyramid entrance, then she closed the book and moved on.

She turned to watch the Doctor as he leaned over the coffin. He was now wearing a stethoscope and seemed to be listening to Nyssa's arm. He nodded with satisfaction, coiled up the stethoscope, and stuffed it into his pocket. The he dashed round to the other side of the sarcophagus and started tapping on the edge. Tegan could see she was in for a long wait, and leaned back against the red velvet of the curtain behind her. She could feel the wall straight and hard behind the curtain. And she felt it give way under her weight.

Atkins grabbed Tegan's elbow as she slipped in surprise. 'What is it?' he asked.

'I don't know. The wall wobbled.'

Atkins pushed experimentally at the curtain close to where Tegan had been standing. 'You're right. There's some give in it certainly.'

The Doctor was frowning across at them. But he had stopped his tapping on the coffin and seemed to be paying attention.

Atkins went to the corner of the room, and hunted around for the edge of the curtain where it met the one covering the next wall. The curtains were all fitted to tracks set into the ceiling just in from the wall. Atkins pulled at the edge of curtain, and drew it back a few feet, revealing the wall behind. Tegan stared in amazement, and even Atkins seemed surprised.

The Doctor stepped down from the dais and crossed to join them. 'Interesting,' he said quietly. 'Very interesting.'

The wall beneath the curtain was actually a plasterboard partition, probably erected as a skin for the real wall behind and several inches away from it. The board was relatively thin, and wobbled if any force was applied to it. It was covered in painted hieroglyphics.

'You know what this is?' the Doctor asked after they had spent a few minutes examining the paintings.

'Yes,' said Tegan. 'It's weird.'

The Doctor shook his head. 'A little eccentric perhaps, but not really weird. Atkins?'

'It's a copy of the tomb,' Atkins said simply.

'Exactly.' The Doctor stepped back and waved an arm round the room, gesturing at the other walls. 'They've painted a copy of the interior of the tomb. Probably from Kenilworth's expedition's notes.'

'The notes are over there.' Tegan pointed to the book she had been looking at. 'But why bother? And who did it?'

'Oh just a bit of fun, probably. Or perhaps an attempt at some context and authenticity for the mummy. Either Prior did it, then changed his mind about the ambience and put up the curtains, or one of his predecessors had the paintings done, and someone later didn't think much of it.'

'So someone, if I understand you correctly, Doctor,' Atkins said, 'for whatever reason, created an exact replica of the original tomb?'

The Doctor nodded. 'Or rather, they think they did.' He pulled back the curtain from a section of the adjacent wall. 'But we know one thing they'll have got wrong, don't we Tegan?' He grinned widely and pointed to a cartouche half-way up the wall. Then his smile froze. 'I don't like that,' he said.

'What's wrong, Doctor?'

'Nothing, that's the problem. This name is exactly as it is in the actual tomb.'

Atkins nodded. 'That does seem reasonable, Doctor.'

The Doctor shook his head. 'Not when Tegan and I altered the only sketch made by the expedition so that it was inaccurate.'

Atkins gaped. 'But, why Doctor?'

'Because it is the name of Nephthys, and it conceals the mechanism that opens the door to the secret inner chamber we told you about.' He reached out, hesitantly, and pressed in the middle of the open square in the centre of the cartouche. As soon as he pushed, he whipped his hand away as if burned.

They watched and waited in silence for several seconds. But nothing happened.

The Doctor exhaled heavily. 'Well thank goodness for that,' he said.

The murder of Sir John Mapleton and the theft of a single bracelet from his collection made the local early evening news. Tegan and Atkins had spent the afternoon in town, each finding that they enjoyed the other's company. Atkins was secretly impressed with Tegan's openness and her forthright nature. Tegan admired Atkins' control and reserve.

The Doctor had warned Tegan before they set off that she was not to explain too much to Atkins. But in fact Atkins did not seem interested in explanations. He took everything in his stride, nodding politely at Tegan's inadequate descriptions of cinemas, aeroplanes, and the one way system.

They arrived back just after six-thirty, and found the Doctor, Prior and Vanessa sitting in the lounge watching the television. 'Don't even ask,' Tegan told Atkins, and he shrugged and settled into an arm chair.

'Good grief,' Prior said as the article finished. They had all listened in silence, the Doctor, Tegan and Atkins exchanging worried glances when a picture of the bracelet was shown. Vanessa sat silent and still, her eyes fixed on the television.

'I knew Mapleton,' Prior said. 'Only slightly. Did some business with him. You remember?' he asked his daughter.

She nodded, but still said nothing.

'What sort of business?'

'Oh, bought a couple of pieces he was bored with. Vanessa fancied that bracelet, strangely enough. But he wouldn't part with it. I think we went for a necklace instead.'

'Why the bracelet?' Tegan asked.

'Oh, I don't know.' Vanessa seemed to switch back on. 'Just liked the look of it. It was years ago. I probably thought it would impress some boy at school.'

'It probably would,' the Doctor agreed. 'Certainly somebody wanted it very badly.

Vanessa had been feeling strange all day. She was tired and felt as if she was floating just above reality. At first she put it down to the excesses of the previous night's party, but by the evening she was wondering if perhaps you felt like this all the time after you turned twenty-one. It would explain the behaviour of many of the adult population, after all.

The news about Mapleton left her with an odd mixture of emotions. She was at once saddened by the loss of an acquaintance of her father's, and at the same time she experienced a bizarre feeling of excitement. And now she wanted to - to, well she was not sure what. But something had to be done soon.

She sat alone in the lounge, staring at the blank screen of the television, and listened to her mixed thoughts and emotions. It was almost as if they were in some way no longer her own.

'Could I ask you something?' The Doctor's voice jolted her out of her reverie.

'Of course, Doctor. How can I help?'

He sat in the armchair next to her, perched on the edge of the leather, hand clasped in front of him and elbows resting on his knees. 'Your great-great several times uncle, Lord Kenilworth, brought back various relics from one of his expeditions.' Vanessa nodded. 'Like your mummy, you mean.'

'Er, yes. Yes. Well, those relics included several which were all together inside the tomb, and which have some significance we don't yet really understand.'

'How do you know?' Vanessa asked. But in the back of her mind she felt sure she already had the answer.

'Oh, well, it's probably all in Kenilworth's notes which are down in the basement. Anyway, there are four relics I'm interested in. One is a statue of a jackal. That was stolen many years ago, while the expedition was on its way home.'

'Anubis,' muttered Vanessa. 'He who is in the Place of Death.'

'Yes, absolutely,' the Doctor said slowly. 'I thought you weren't interested in Egyptology.'

'I'm not. But you pick things up.' Vanessa shrugged. Where had she heard the phrase before? Never mind, it wasn't important.

'Well, interested or not, the second relic is the ring your father gave you last night.'

Vanessa's hand immediately closed over the ring, and she pulled away, sinking deep into her armchair.

'It's all right,' the Doctor said quietly. 'I just want to be sure it stays safe. Because the third relic is the bracelet stolen from Mapleton last night.'

'You think someone is after them?'

'What do you think?' the Doctor asked quietly. When she did not answer, he went on: 'The last of the relics is a carved statue of a snake. A cobra. You wouldn't happen to know where it is, would you?'

His eyes were deep and blue. Penetrating, searching, pleading. Did she know where the snake was? 'No,' she told him. 'I don't.'

The Doctor nodded as if this was the answer he had expected. 'Well, just a thought.' He stood up.

'I'm sorry. You could try the family records, Kenilworth's account of his expedition might say what happened to it.'

'Thank you,' said the Doctor from the doorway. 'It might indeed.'

Vanessa watched the door close behind him. She would feel better after a good night's sleep. She wished James had not had to go away. She'd have done anything to keep him here, with her.

The Doctor did not sleep that night. This was not unusual. Instead he waited until the house was quiet, then went to Prior's library. He hunted out every volume he could find about the various dialects and styles of early Egyptian hieroglyphics. Then he looked for any documentation of the myths about Seth, Nephthys, Osiris and Isis.

He read every word of each of the books at lightning speed. But it still took him almost until dawn. With his new and deeper insight into the legends and the writing, he hoped to be able to decipher more of the inscriptions he had copied down from the tomb. He was not sure when he would next get a chance to spend a useful amount of time on his studies, but even from what he remembered of the inscriptions, he did not feel that all was well.

In fact, he had several very nasty suspicions.

It did not take the Doctor long the next morning to convince Tegan and Atkins of the importance of finding the cobra. He also gave then a brief description of his conversation with Vanessa the previous night, and mentioned in passing that he was still hoping to decipher more of the inscriptions.

'It seems a sensible suggestion,' Atkins volunteered. 'Although we already know where the cobra went.'

The Doctor nodded. 'Yes. To Macready. Still, given Vanessa's contact with the ring and the bracelet, I thought she might have heard what happened to the cobra.'

'Prior would be more likely to know,' Tegan pointed out. 'He's the expert in this stuff after all.'

'Good thought, Tegan. Let's go and ask him. At least he might be able to point us to some sort of inventory of snake relics in the collections of the world.'

They found Prior in the library. He limped over to them, leaning heavily on his sphinx-handled stick, and listened patiently to the Doctor's request.

'Did Vanessa ever tell you how she and James Norris met?' he asked as they sat round the library table.

'I thought he was the architect for the alterations you did to this house,' Tegan said. Prior nodded. 'Indeed he was. But Vanessa and I knew him before that. He practically begged me for the work, in fact. He was young and enthusiastic.' Prior laughed. 'He still is, I suppose. Anyway, I had him draw up the plans and supervise the work. Did a damned fine job too, as it turned out. But I could see that Vanessa valued his company, even then. And I must confess I like the lad myself.'

Atkins coughed quietly, and everyone turned towards him. 'He did mention, Mr Norris that is, that he originally came to you when he inherited some relics of Egyptian origin.'

Prior nodded. 'Indeed he did. He had no idea of their value, but he had read an article I wrote for Newsweek about how tourism and neglect are eroding the great sites of ancient Egypt and they should be preserved. Shocking.' He leaned across the table. 'Do you realize that -' He broke off. 'Never mind, hobby horse of mine. Sorry.'

'Not at all,' the Doctor said. 'There's a long way to go before people understand the importance and delicacy of their own past.'

'Indeed so,' Prior nodded. 'Indeed so. Anyway, you were asking me about the cobra from Kenilworth's expedition.'

'And you were telling us about James Norris,' Tegan said.

'Well naturally,' Prior replied. 'After all, he's got it.'

'What?' The Doctor looked round at his friends. 'Does Vanessa know that?' he asked quietly.

'Oh yes,' Prior said. 'It was one of the relics he brought to me for valuation. Pure coincidence, he had no idea that it was almost a family heirloom.' Prior gave another short bark of laughter. 'Wouldn't part with it though. Vanessa tells me he's got it out on his mantelpiece in that cottage of his in Cornwall. I've told him a thousand times, anyone could just walk in and -' He stopped short again, mouth open and brow creased as if a terrible thought had just occurred to him. 'My God,' he said quietly.

'What?' The Doctor was leaning across the table, his hands reaching out towards Prior. Prior turned to him gravely. 'I hope he's got it insured,' he said.

'Where is Vanessa?' Tegan asked. 'I haven't seen her all day.'

'Oh she went to have a lie down for a bit. She's been a bit under the weather last couple of days. Probably missing James. He's down in Cornwall.'

'At this cottage of his?'

'Yes, Doctor.'

The Doctor considered. 'Two of the four relics are missing already,' he said to Prior. 'Of the others, Vanessa has one and James Norris has the other.'

'You think they might be in danger?'

The Doctor nodded. 'It's possible,' he said. 'If you keep an eye on your daughter, perhaps you can lend Tegan a car and tell her how to find Norris's cottage.'

Prior nodded. 'I can lend you a map,' he told Tegan. 'But it's about a four-hour drive from here. Might even be five.'

'And why am I going to see Norris?'

'To warn him he might be in danger.'

'You could phone him,' Prior offered.

The Doctor shook his head. 'I'd rather Tegan saw him in person. He's more likely to take things seriously then. But perhaps you could call and make sure he's there when she arrives.'

'Of course.'

'But why am I driving? And why aren't you coming?' hissed Tegan. 'There are quicker ways to get to Cornwall, you know.' She glanced across at Prior, but he had pulled himself out of his chair and was hunting through a pile of books, presumably for a road atlas.

The Doctor nodded. 'I know. But Atkins and I have an appointment somewhat further afield, and I rather fancy we have a greater need for the quicker means of transport you have in mind. I don't think there's a great need for haste, and it will give you something to do while we'rebusy.'

Tegan sat back in her chair. 'Terrific,' she said. 'I get the second rate assignment again.'

'Not at all, Tegan. We're on a short quest for knowledge, but you could be saving lives.'

'All right, Doctor.'

The Doctor rubbed his hands together. 'Splendid.' He stood up and started towards the door. As he passed Tegan, he said quietly: 'Oh, there is just one other thing.'

'What's that?'

'We really have no idea if Norris can be trusted.'

'I have no idea if anyone can be trusted,' Tegan told him. 'Why did Vanessa lie about the cobra?'

'I don't know. Perhaps she's got a rotten memory, or perhaps she didn't want to implicate her fiance.'

Tegan nodded. 'Maybe.'

'You like her, don't you?'

Tegan nodded. 'She's okay. She reminds me of someone. To look at, I mean. But I can't think who it is. Maybe someone I was at school with.'

'Yes,' said Atkins, 'there is a certain familiarity in her features.'

The Doctor grinned. 'Perhaps she's just got that sort of face,' he said.

Vanessa felt no better than the previous evening. Her head was still swimming, and she could hear disjointed and distant voices echoing in the back of her mind. She had tried to call James, but all she got was the answerphone. Either he was out, or he was working and did not want to be disturbed.

She had also tried to sleep, but even when she managed to doze off for a few minutes she had nightmares. They were gone when she awoke, just the memory of a distant terror lingering on the edges of sleep.

After she woke the third time in a cold sweat, she decided to have a shower, and then to read or watch television in the hope of taking her mind off things. She let the cool water splash across her body and run down her skin towards the drain, washing over tiles that had been parched for a thousand years.

A thousand years? Where had she got that idea? She shook her head, her long wet hair swinging round and sending droplets of water skidding against the glass walls of the shower cubicle.

Prior seemed happy for Tegan to take his car. He could, he pointed out, always borrow Vanessa's should he need to get out. And since they were actually in the middle of London anyway, he could choose between taxi, bus and tube for any local journeys.

So, soon after lunch, Tegan found herself sitting behind the wheel of a Jaguar, wondering where the windscreen wipers were operated from should she need them, and wishing the seat were a couple of inches higher. Another of the shocks she got from being over ten years behind in automotive technology and not used to the state of the art even in her own time was the power steering. She had gone almost a complete circle in the driveway before she managed to crunch to a halt on the gravel and learn about the latest anti-lock braking systems.

Prior tapped on the driver's window, and after a short pause as Tegan discovered electric windows, handed her a road atlas.

'A bit easier on the steering,' he said as he showed where he had marked the relevant page with a sticky yellow notelet. Then he showed her the pencilled circle in the middle of what appeared to be a trackless swamp where Norris had his cottage. 'There is a track. I've drawn it on the map for you, so far as Vanessa could remember where it is. Had to drag her out of the shower to show me.'

'Is she still not feeling well?'

Prior shook his head. 'Not a hundred per cent. I thought she'd ask why I wanted to know, but she just pointed and went back into her room. I can't fathom what's up with her, but I hope she's better soon.'

Tegan agreed, and studied the map. 'Doesn't look as easy as it might be. I could end up in a ditch.'

'Well, the car's insured,' Prior laughed.

Tegan laughed too. 'I'm not sure I am, though.' She thanked him, almost caught his nose in the window, and swung the car round carefully so that it faced back down the drive.

As she turned past the front of the house, she caught sight of movement at an upper window. As the car stopped, Tegan adjusted the rear view mirror so she could see what the movement was. Vanessa was standing at her bedroom window, the curtain pulled back. Tegan turned and studied the figure in the mirror for a moment. The window was almost full length, and she could see Vanessa framed against the dark interior of her room. She was strikingly beautiful, tall and slim. Her dark hair was still folded up on to her head in a towel after her shower. Her features were aquiline, and her eyes large and cat-like with huge pupils. She was dressed in a simple white night-gown which reached to her knees.

And in that moment, Tegan realized who Vanessa reminded her of. With her long hair tied up, she was the image of the Shabti figures in the entrance corridor of Nyssa's tomb.

Vanessa watched the car set off down the drive. Then she pulled the towel from her long hair, and shook it free. She sat in front of her dressing table, head slightly to one side as she dried and brushed her hair. In the mirror, Vanessa could see the door to her room. She had almost finished when she saw the reflected handle begin slowly to turn.

She swung round on her seat, putting down the hair drier and comb, one knee pulled up to her chin. As the door swung open, she stood up, backing away from the figure which filled the doorway.

The mummy stepped into the room, the floor shaking slightly beneath its heavy feet as it swung towards Vanessa. She stood, back to the far wall, staring at the huge shape as it lumbered towards her.

Behind the mummy, Sadan Rassul appeared in the doorway. His broad squat shape was silhouetted against the wall of the corridor outside. 'Do not be afraid, my child,' he said gently as the mummy reached out for Vanessa.

An unholy roaring sound broke the stillness of the desert air. One moment, nothing but sand and the breeze; the next, the TARDIS melted into existence on a dune overlooking a deep crater. After a pause, the TARDIS doors opened and Doctor and Atkins emerged. 'What we really need,' the Doctor said, 'is to contact someone who was on the expedition. If there was an expedition. But someone must have been here, to know about the Nephthys hieroglyphic.' He handed Atkins a heavy torch, and showed him how to switch it on.

Atkins considered. 'So we see if we can find clues as to how long ago the pyramid was re-excavated, then use the TARDIS again to try to trace someone who can divulge information to us about the expedition.'

'Exactly,' the Doctor smiled. 'Now then...' He twisted round trying to get his bearings, licking his index finger and holding it up. Then he stared out across the desert sands in the opposite direction to the crater. 'That way, I think.'

'Actually, Doctor, if I may?'

The Doctor nodded.

'I'd suggest this way.' Atkins pointed down into the crater. The far side was a more regular shape than the other ragged edges. In places a gleaming blackness glistened beneath the sand. It was the side of the pyramid.

They stared at it for a moment. Then the Doctor said: 'Can I ask what methodology you used for that inspired geographical deduction?'

It took them several minutes to stumble and trip down the steep side of the crater. As they approached, the could see the door of the pyramid standing open, a deep pile of sand covered the floor and prevented the door from closing again. It had been open for a long time.

'Do you think they survived the traps?'

The Doctor nodded. 'Oh I should think the traps were deactivated when we removed Nyssa's body. Pretty much served their purpose by then.' He clambered up the shifting pile of sand and through into the main passageway. Light came in through the open doorway, but they still needed their torches to see where they were going.There was gradually less sand as they made their way up the corridor. The Shabti figures were gone from their alcoves, and the sound of the echoing footsteps seemed deadened and dull. At last they reached the burial chamber. The doors were pulled shut, but not fastened. The Doctor and Atkins looked at each other. Then the Doctor nodded, and they each opened one of the heavy double doors, and together they stepped into the chamber.

It was empty.

They walked to the centre of what had been the burial chamber, stopped and slowly turned round. Their torchbeams played over the floor, ceiling and walls as they took in the enormity of the change.

'You know,' Atkins said, 'I can understand the removal of relics and even furniture. But why take the walls?'

The Doctor nodded. The stone had been hacked away, leaving a scarred mess of stonework where once there had been carved hieroglyphics. 'They certainly did a thorough job.'

'I don't remember this.' Atkins crossed to an open archway on the far side of the rough cave that had been the chamber. 'What was it?'

The Doctor joined him. Beyond the archway, illuminated by their torches, was another smaller cavern. Like the main chamber it had been stripped bare, the walls hacked down.

'This,' said the Doctor, 'was the hidden chamber I described where the second mummy was incarcerated.'

'Not hidden any more,' commented Atkins.

'No,' agreed the Doctor grimly. 'And, as we should have realized, the mummy, like everything else, has gone.'

St Helena - 1821

Napoleon had managed to struggle into a position where he was half sitting, propped up by the pillows. He had sent the nurse from the room, and was alone now with Tombier. They looked at each other for a while, saying nothing in the way that only friends can. From outside, came the cry of seagulls, and the faint sound of the waves lapping on the shore as the tide went out.

'Not long now, my friend,' Napoleon whispered hoarsely. 'I am losing my final battle, I fear.'

Tombier said nothing. He grasped his general's - his emperor's - hand tightly. Napoleon laughed, a half cough of humour. 'A good habit, Tombier, to say nothing when there is nothing to say.' He reached over and patted his friend's hand as it held his. 'Yet I am always so open with you.'

Tombier smiled, though the smiled did not reach his eyes. 'Yes, sir.' He stood, and walked to the window. 'Except once.' He hoped that Napoleon had missed the way his voice caught, and that he had turned quickly enough to hide the tears welling up in his eyes.

'Ah, yes,' Napoleon said from behind him. 'The Great Pyramid.' He was silent for a while. Then he said: 'I have spoken to no one about that. Ever.'

'Nor I,' said Tombier softly. But he knew that even if Napoleon had heard he would have expected no less.

'Even when the Prussians linked up with the British at Waterloo, I was less afraid than I was in that chamber.'

Tombier turned from the window. 'What happened? I have never asked before, not since that day. But I have always wondered what could engender such fear. Even now you seem calm by comparison.'

Napoleon shook his head weakly. 'Death holds no terror for me. After that day in the pyramid, I could face anything with a strong heart.' His body was wracked with a sudden fit of coughing. Tombier went back to the bed and eased him up so that he was sitting almost upright.

Eventually his coughing subsided, and Napoleon sat wheezing in the bed. 'I will tell you, Tombier, you who have been my friend even in the darkest adversity. I will tell you what I saw that day.' His head rested into the pillows, he was breathing deeply and erratically.

Tombier leaned forward. 'Yes, my general? What did you see?'

Napoleon stared at Tombier, his eyes misted over as if he was looking into the past. Then his eyelids fluttered, and Tombier knew that he was drifting back into sleep. He beckoned weakly for Tombier to lean closer, turned his head slightly so his mouth was close to his friend's ear.

For a moment, all Tombier could hear was Napoleon's shallow breathing. Then the former emperor gave a sigh. 'What's the point, Jean?' he murmured. 'No one would ever believe me.' And he sank back into dreamless sleep.