The Forgotten Palace
by demented20
A ruthless king imprisioned by a mighty queen longs for a strong woman able to break him free

Alaria took the rings off one by one and placed them in her brother's palm. He planned to leave her with no trinkets or displays of wealth. All of that glory was about to belong to him. "You played the game well, my sister, but you lost. The Blue Crown of Kush is mine, and I'll sit the throne. You are going to live the rest of your life banished from these lands. Had Father not died before his wishes were known, then perhaps the throne and the crown would have passed to me without any of this having to happen."

"You know Father wanted me to rule! He groomed me! Not you! But you just couldn't be satisfied with being my first minister", Alaria spoke sharply.

Her brother winced at her words. She had such power and authority behind her regal tone. He had to gird himself and attempt to match her. "Why would I be first minister when obviously I am more fit to rule? If you were more fit then I would be the one in your place."

"I would never do this to you!", Alaria exclaimed as the first tear fell from her midnight colored eyes.

Her brother came close then, close enough for his cheek to almost touch hers. "That's why you lost." He stood up and straightened his clothes. They both knew that he was right. Alaria had used palace intrigue and secrets to maneuver herself close to the throne. She was ready to claim it as her own when the killing had started. While she was master of many things, her brother was a master of the dark arts. He had learned them instead of the dance of war. Alaria had always thought that her people were safe, but she had been so very wrong. First her best friend, and then the love of her life had died. In anger and grief, Alaria had fought her way past the guards loyal to Jebel and had threatened to kill his wife. Jebel had laughed and slit the woman's throat himself. He had many more wives, and he didn't love any of them. The only person he loved was himself.

"Take her away from here to the southern border. See that she isn't harmed physically. I'll at least leave you with your beauty, Alaria. That way you might be able to fetch a decent husband to take care of your needs, but if you ever come back to this land, I'll be forced to kill you." With that the men loaded the once proud princess into a wagon for the long journey south. The men weren't allowed to harm her, but Alaria could see the unsheathed lust in some of their eyes. Men would pleasure themselves in her presence and laugh at her disgust. Finally her journey was over. One afternoon the men stopped in a dusty peasant village and dumped the naked princess in the middle of the street. People didn't know what to make of the naked woman in the middle of the street, but one kind old woman hurried up to her and clothed her in a spare garment. Alaria thanked the woman and promised that one day her kindness would be rewarded. It would take a long time.

Jebel ruled the kingdom, badly, for 13 years. He expanded his domain by incessant war. Young men were chewed up by the thousands in his battles. There were several attempts on his life, but none succeeded. By now Jebel was a master of the dark arts. His magic was so powerful that any person who entered the inner palace with killing him on their mind was struck down by a spell. There were even rumors of him performing human sacrifices to further enhance his power. King Jebel was untouchable, although his kingdom was not.

He took notice when he heard about a people from the south and west who were conquering all the petty kingdoms that surrounded his lands. His military leaders urged King Jebel to gather his army so that they could meet the threat.

"What do we know about these people?", the king asked one day.

"We know that no one has yet stood in their way. They are led by a warrior queen who cannot be stopped. They say that she has no equal with a weapon. They say that her soldiers fight with fanatic devotion."

"Do they now?", the king began. His mind went back to when he'd been younger. He hadn't been particularly strong, and had only learned the rudiments of fighting. He'd read dusty old scrolls while his sister Alaria had worn fifty pounds of armor over her strong young body and trained against the palace guards. When Jebel's reminisces were over, he motioned for his general to continue.

"At their heart is a corps of female warriors. They are all as tall as a man and stronger. There are stories of one of these warriors being shot with ten arrows and still killing a dozen men before she bled and fell dead."

These words shook the king to his cowardly core. "I want to see this queen." He left the meeting and went to a secret part of the palace. This room held his secret weapon. After he put down his dust and spoke his incantation, a thirty by thirty section of wall became alive with images. From this wall Jebel could see any place where man had trod. He could see into the homes of his adversaries. He could see into the courts of foreign rulers. He could see to far away lands past the known world. Now though, he wanted to see this queen. He ordered his wall to show him the queen, but it could not. It would only show the outside of the great traveling caravan that she rose in. He couldn't even tell where the caravan was. "She must have powerful magic", he admitted under his breath. Then King Jebel began to worry.

The two armies met just south of the capital city a few weeks later. Jebel wore his ceremonial armor and sat atop a great elephant. In the early light, he saw the invading army arrayed in front of him. It stretched to the distance, but it was no larger than his. In its center he saw the shock troops. The great corps of women warriors stood wearing little armor and holding long spears shaped with bronze and heat. The muscles of their bodies threatened his nerve. Then the entire army began to part like a wave breaking on the shore. "Make way for the Queen!", every voice in the opposing army yelled in unison. Jebel's men were certain that even the gods had heard that shout.

He was anticipating this though. He would finally get to see this Queen. It took a long time to make her way. When she did, she came in a chariot pulled by two of the biggest lionesses he'd ever seen. They had been tamed by her personally, and Jebel could see how. The Queen was the most muscular of the warriors. Her dark brown skin showed off the cuts of her powerful muscles. Her head was covered by a bronze helmet, but there was no way her face could possibly surpass her body. It was a glorious image of muscled mass from her chest down to her super lean abdomen to her small tight waist to her twin mammoth thighs. Jebel looked around in time to see some of his men swallow lumps in their throats. Then she reached up with her powerful arms and slowly removed her helmet. To make everything worse, she was as gorgeous as a goddess. Her skin was the purest ebony and her face was regal beyond description with eyes like liquid eternity.

"I have never seen a woman her equal", Jebel uttered as she stopped her chariot. Jebel ordered his elephant jockey to move him closer. "Who are you to invade my kingdom?", he demanded with all the authority of the kingdom.

The woman on the chariot stepped off and approached on foot. Fifty strong palace guards gathered and formed a line in front of the elephant. The Queen stopped and looked up. "You don't recognize me?", she asked in a voice just loud enough for Jebel to hear. "I can understand why you cannot. I have trained so very hard for this moment that my body was grown with strength that no one can resist. I was stronger than the lion who once commanded those lionesses. I killed it with my bare hands. I've been stronger than every man who's faced me, and now I'm going to show you that I'm stronger that you, mighty king."

"Who do you think you are!!!", Jebel yelled at the top of his voice.

The woman below stood despite his anger. Then one of the guards saw. She'd been in the flowering of her beauty when last he'd seen her, but now she stood in front of him as a woman in full bloom. This guard had served Jebel's father, and his father before him, but he realized who he was looking at. He fell on his knees and bowed his head to the dirt at her feet. "My Queen", he proclaimed reverently as he pressed his head to her feet. "Forgive me, if you find me worthy."

Then Jebel knew. He squinted his eyes. "It can't be", he muttered. "It can't be!" His sister had been beautiful the last time he'd seen her, but now Alaria was more than any woman had ever been.

"I've come to get my kingdom, Jebel", Alaria called out to her brother.

"Kill her!!!", Jebel demanded, but it was too late. The older palace guards knew in their hearts that they had been serving the wrong ruler. They unsheathed their weapons and began attacking those guards loyal to Jebel. The blood ran thick. Then the two armies met in a rush of metal and flesh. Battle lines broke and reformed and broke again. Jebel tried to rally his men from atop his mighty elephant, but Alaria's elite soldiers attacked his beast without mercy. Finally the king had to withdraw. The elephant died from more than a thousand wounds shortly after Jebel dismounted. He could see his city in ruins. Fires burned all around, but he'd be safe in his palace. Inside there, the spell would protect him. His enemies would die if they approached, even his sister.

Alaria swung her sword with a short efficient arc. It sliced a man low on his abdomen. He reached for the wound, then Alaria brought up her two arms. Her arms and shoulders were speckled with sweat and blood. She let out a yell and sliced the man's head from his body with one swing. He fell and she moved on. She and her elite warriors were at the gates to the palace. The resistance was getting worse, but the Queen waded into the danger. She and six of her warriors fought more than forty men at once. The Queen felt the cold sting of bronze against her skin. That scratch was too shallow to even slow her down. Several men came at her in a rush. She didn't take one step back. She swung her sword and sliced a man's arm off before stabbing him in the chest through his thick armor. Then she felt an arm around her neck in the melee. The man tried to squeeze her neck flat. The Queen didn't panic. She reached behind her and put her hands under the man's arms. The man couldn't believe it when he felt the muscles of her body flex and swell beneath him as his feet rose from the floor. She lifted him off until she was holding his body above her head. Her triceps bulged out obscenely. The man reached down to grab her arms, but she wore bronze vambraces over her forearms and the man couldn't get a grip. With a powerful move, Alaria threw the man over her shoulder then wrapped her arms around his body. Her arms weren't quite long enough to reach all the way around him, but it didn't matter. Alaria's face twisted in supreme effort as she squeezed as hard as she could. The man choked and gagged as his ribs compressed. His legs thrashed and he hit the Queen on her impervious shoulders. The muscles of her powerful delts and traps didn't even dent. Alaria's powerful body grew in size as the guard's body was squeezed smaller. Blood ran from the man's mouth as Alaria's unstoppable body flexed even harder and even bigger. Her hands were getting closer, but the armor was stopping her. Finally the Queen threw her head back and yelled to the heavens. Her body flexed larger than ever and became hard as granite. Muscle fibers flexed and tightened. Her body shook until there was a loud BANG. The armored breastplate cracked in half from her onslaught. It was all over then. She clasped her hands behind the ruthless guard's back and with one more squeeze broke his spine in two. He died, and she dropped him.

She looked up and saw her brother standing at the top of the stairs wide eyed from his sister's display. He had never seen anything like it. Their eyes met for only a moment before he turned and ran. Alaria's elite guard started up the stairs after him, but she stopped them. "No! You can't go any further. I have to go after him alone." They all understood the powerful spell that Jebel had cast inside the palace proper, but they were willing to brave it and die for their queen.

Alaria ran up the stairs when one of her warriors stopped her and tossed a spear. The Queen nodded her head then continued up the polished stairs. She knew this palace as well as anyone alive, so there was no chance of her being surprised or getting lost. Alaria had to fight her way through Jebel's most well trained and most devoted guards as she approached his chambers. She dispatched them all. Finally she came to the last two. The three of them fought for ten solid minutes. These men were the best Alaria had ever faced. They danced and parried and attacked. Finally the three of them were all disarmed. The two guards took hold of Alaria's breastplate and pushed her back in tandem to get away from their king. Alaria's sandals slid against the polished floor until finally she came near a wall and stopped both men. They pushed with all they had, but Alaria's body was so very strong. Her abs flexed into thick deep bricks of muscle as she forced her body forward against their advance. Her legs were already so massively flexed that each one was covered with striated ropes of muscles so massively pumped that each moved caused them bulge and writhe, and they were growing still larger. With a deep grunt from within her chest, Alaria pressed the two men backwards against their best efforts. She took them under their shoulders. Nervous sweat streamed down their brows as the future queen lifted them from the ground. Her biceps surged with such power that they looked like they could keep going higher and higher. The heads of thick muscles split, and the peak rose half way up her forearm.  The power in those muscles was awesome.  She lifted the two men plus the weight of their armor off the ground. The men whimpered and cried at her display. She threw them down, and spun quickly to snatch up a weapon. It didn't matter. The two once loyal guards fled Jebel, running as quickly as their legs could carry them.

"Looks like it's just you and me, Jebel", Alaria hissed and started up the stairs. Jebel backed away from her. She must have broken his spell somehow. He was without protection as his sister closed the distance. They paused when they heard screams from the rooms beyond. The two guards had just met their end. There was a battle yell as a huge palace guard ran into the room. He was one of the older ones. He had been one of the men who had helped train Alaria as a child. He was true to his queen as he ran with a sword in his hand to kill Jebel, the usurper. "NO! Don't go any further!", she yelled, but no sooner had the words come out of her mouth than the big man slumped over and fell to the ground writhing in unimaginable pain. Alaria dropped her sword and ran to him. She knew how the spell worked. It killed from the inside out, and this man didn't have much time. She worked her arms under his body and lifted with only a slight effort. She cradled the man in her powerful arms and rushed to the door. The spell got weaker the further one got from the center of Jebel power. Once she got him near the door, the man started breathing again and the pained look on his face went away. She set him down.

"Thank you, my Queen", the man managed through deep breaths.

Alaria's smile was like that of an angel. "Don't do that again. None of you can get close to him without his spell killing you. I'm the only one who can do that." Alaria stood up still facing the guard on the ground. It was her only mistake of the entire battle.

The guard's eyes bucked in his head. "MY QUEEN!", he yelled and snatched Alaria by her ankles. He pulled as hard as he could and the queen fell down back first. She fell just fast enough for the arrow to miss her. It sailed where she would have been and struck the guard in his torso. Alaria was surprised, but she heard the whistle of the second arrow as it flew. She threw out her hand and caught it before it struck the guard. The tip was only an inch from his face, but she held it in her strong left hand. She stood up with the arrow and snapped it with just her thumb.

Jebel squealed, dropped the bow then ran to his private chamber. Alaria's face was angry beyond description as she bent down and lifted Jebel's expertly crafted bow. He cowered as she held the bow in both hands. Her anger boiled like lava as she took a firm grip on either end of his bow and began to bear down. He couldn't believe it. The hard wood of the bow was no match for Alaria's muscles. Her upper body swelled, doubling in size to bend the bow past where it was designed to go. The string hung useless as she compressed the ends closer and closer together. Her mighty pecs flexed outward so far that the breastplate was lifted. One of the straps tore loose and the plate lifted higher still, riding atop her mighty pectoral muscles. Then it was her vambraces' turn. The leather weave that fastened them tore and the bronze armor pieces clanged against the stone floor. Alaria's eyes were barely open as she gritted her teeth. Sweat flew from her body as with a final burst of muscled power, the bow snapped in half. Alaria dropped the halves and continued up the stairs.

Jebel was on his knees with his special dust, reciting more incantations, strengthening his spell. He put all he had into the spell to protect himself against all threats going beyond the limits. He knew it was dangerous, but his only thought was saving his life. He made it so strong that nothing could cause him harm, but still his awe inspiring sister approached. He was beyond reason when she came up and stopped only a couple of feet away. "What magic do you have!", Jebel yelled and rolled on the floor. "What talisman do you possess? Why won't my wall see you? Why won't my magic work on you!!!" He crawled towards her, but she gently reached down and lifted him to his feet.

"I studied your black arts as hard as I studied fighting once you kicked me out. I wanted to know all about the magic that you used to protect yourself. I didn't want to know how to use it. I wanted to know how to defeat it."

"How! How!"

Alaria smiled. "All of your spells are crafted to protect you, but I don't want to harm you Jebel." She reached her hand out and rubbed his cheek. "I'm your sister. I love you."

"Wha… What?"

Alaria took a couple steps away. "After all you did to me, and after all the harm you've done to this kingdom. I love you, and in my heart I don't want any harm to befall you, not from me or any of my people. That's why I'm able to pierce your defenses."

Jebel looked crushed. Then he became angry. "Get away from me!"

"I will. I'm leaving." She took the Blue Crown of Kush from the table and began walking away.

Jebel went after her, but started feeling the resistance as soon as he came down the first flight of stairs. The spell was extraordinarily powerful now, but Alaria's love had thrown a twist in it. Instead of just protecting himself, Jebel had imprisoned himself. He had to fix the spell, and to do that he needed to change the dynamic. He needed Alaria to stop caring about him. He needed her animosity. That fueled his power. "I did so many awful things to you", he began. "I killed your betrothed and your best friend."

"I have forgiven you for that", Alaria said without turning around. She kept walking.

"I… I sent you away!"

She turned then quickly. "But you didn't kill me!", she said with the enthusiasm that she'd once had. He'd seen her like this when she was younger and excited. "You could have killed me, Jebel, but you didn't back then. There must be something in your heart for me. You must care for me a little. If you care for someone other than yourself then you can step out of the trap you've made. Search your heart and come with me. I won't let anyone hurt you." She held out her hand, but Jebel just stood there. He searched himself, but he already knew the answer even if she didn't.

"I wasn't allowed to harm you when I banished you." This time Alaria looked surprised. "I had a mind control spell on some of the guards who chose me over you, but I could only go so far. By me telling them to keep you safe it actually strengthened my hold on their thoughts." His face took on an evil grin. "If I could have, Alaria, I would have ordered the men to rape you until your body went numb from pain and then I would have ordered them to feed you to the crocodiles on the river!"

All the power and authority seemed to fade from Alaria in that instant. The mighty African Queen slumped against a pillar for support. Jebel was grinning from ear to ear as he thought he had her. He knew that he'd erased her love now. She'd been hanging on to the idea that he cared about her. For all those years, she'd thought that there was a chance at reconciling. He couldn't believe how foolish she was. Then he saw a tear roll down her cheek. She wiped it off and stood up. "You've doomed yourself to stay here forever, my brother." She turned again and started away. Jebel couldn't follow.

"What do you mean!"

"Love, Jebel. Love can release you from this prison, but I'm the only person in the world who still loves you, and I'm never coming back."

Queen Alaria walked out the palace and didn't look back. She moved the capital to a new city some miles away, and led her kingdom into a new era of prosperity and cultural achievement. She built new roads that by passed the old capital completely. She had scrolls and markers made to warn people away from the old capital and of the palace. With that done, Alaria went on to found a dynasty. Her descendants ruled the kingdom for centuries while Jebel stayed in the palace as it fell into ruin around him and was finally forgotten, only spoken about in myths and legends. He watched the world progress through his special wall as the sands of the relentless desert completely swallowed what had been a vibrant city and an opulent palace. He bided his time. One day someone would come, and he would be free. Until then King Jebel the Terrible had waited, but his wait would soon be over.

Present Day…

Dr. Priscilla Carlton-Rogers woke up and stretched her arms over her head. It was still dark outside so she knew that she hadn't overslept. "Today's the day", she told herself for the hundredth time. She rolled out of her sleeping bag and readied herself for the day ahead.

The dig site was only a few hundred yards from Priscilla's tent. She could have stayed in a hotel in town, but she wanted to be close to the dig. She'd staked her career on this. She wasn't going to let herself get very far away. She'd lost a lot for this cause. Her marriage included. Her husband had braved the desert for a long time, but that was no place for an investment banker to be. He felt like things were passing him by while his wife was on a wild goose chase. Priscilla went to the dig and looked it over. There was a lot of dirt and equipment, but no people. Priscilla employed local men to do the digging and labor, but they were very reluctant to come to the site after the sun went down. They believed that area brought bad luck to those who lingered after dark. There was some old superstition about a curse or maybe somebody who was cursed. The oral historians could never quite agree on which it was. Either way Priscilla didn't believe in curses. She did what she did every morning.

Two circuits around the site was 1.5km so she ran around three times. After the last lap, Priscilla bent down and lifted a length of hoist chain, put it on her broad shoulders and started doing walking lunges. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she pressed herself upright at the end of each excruciating step. By now her head was covered in sweat and the muscles of her legs were throbbing. She grinned and powered through every moment of it. After her last lunge, she dropped the chains on the ground just long enough to take a swill of some water that she'd cooled in a steam over night. Then it was back to the chain. She rolled up the sleeves on her blouse before she bent down and lifted one end of the chain. She didn't want to ruin anymore of her shirts. She used her left hand to wrap some chain around her right wrist. After wrapping some chain around her left wrist, the chain was almost taunt. She grunted as she stood with the weight hanging from her arms. Slowly at first, Priscilla's arms rose.

The detail and size of Priscilla's muscles caused a local man to stop in his tracks. He'd never seen a woman so developed. It was like a vacuum had sucked the mocha colored skin of her upper arm against her rising biceps. The definition was breathtaking. Her muscles looked like they would tear through anything. Even rolled above the peak, her muscles were stretching the tough material of her shirt. The man worked at the dig site to make enough money to move his four children to the city so they could get a good education. On this day, he was early enough to see what his boss did before most of the workers arrived. Priscilla didn't see him. Her expressive brown eyes were open, but she was focused intently as she breathed with each rep, holding it at the top just long enough to feel her muscles pump. She glanced down at her right arm seeing the vascularity come out, then to the equally as impressive left. When her biceps were pumped like ripe cantaloupes, she lay down on a bench and brought her arms over her head, and started pumping out rep after rep of triceps extensions. The chain rattled and clanked against itself while Priscilla worked her arms. The detail of her arms made the laborer salivate. He didn't move until Omar, the foreman, showed up and started barking orders. Omar was the only man around who had a body to rival Priscilla's, but he barely looked in her direction.

Priscilla turned her head in time to see the man start moving, but she didn't pay much attention. She kept at her workout. Once she was finished with her triceps and shoulders, she pulled her hands across her chest and started on full body crunches. Finally at the end, Priscilla unwrapped the chain and let it fall to the ground. She stretched her arms and shook her muscles out before she rolled her sleeves down. They almost wouldn't fit over the pumped muscles of her upper arms. After a minute, a laborer was sent to fetch the hoist chain. He could barely lift it and ended up dragging it behind him. Priscilla didn't concern herself with that. She went to her checklist. Like she kept telling herself, "Today's the day", but it wasn't. Another full day yielded her nothing.

Priscilla thanked the men for a hard day's work as they left. They hadn't done anything wrong. She was the one who might have made a mistake. There was a chance that maybe she had been wrong about finding something here in the first place. All of her colleagues had told her that this area had dried up years ago. All the finds that could make an archeologist's career were already documented and set up for tourists. They told her that she was wasting her time, but Priscilla had been stubborn and sure of herself. 'There was something special here under the sand', she'd told everyone who would listen. Now though, as she walked back, she wondered had she lost her money, her husband, and her reputation all because of pride.

She stood in front of her tent and almost broke into tears, but instead she just unzipped the flap ducked her head and walked inside. She reached out for the light, but decided to sit in the dark. She was hungry and she'd warm up some food later, but right now she just wanted to be alone and quiet.

Priscilla didn't know that she wasn't alone. There was a man inside her tent. He hadn't been there for her, only for her stuff, but she'd come back before he could get away. He was being very quiet, but he knew that the moment she turned on the light that she would scream. There were people not far away, and they would come running. This woman was providing more than half the jobs for this entire village. He didn't want to think what would happen if they found him inside. He had to kill her. He pulled out his rusty bladed knife and held it in his hand. He got down on all fours and crept closer. He wasn't an expert, but he'd killed many a goat. He knew where to stab to kill. He held the knife tightly as he made his way.

Priscilla was lost in her own thoughts. She went over the words of every proposal she'd ever written to get permission and funding for this dig. She had researched it until her eyes had bled. Where had she gone wrong, she wondered. She unbuttoned the front of her shirt and reached out to flip on the Coleman light hanging on one of the poles. Her hand had barely leaned for the switch when the thief struck. The knife passed just behind her neck as he made his move. "What in the…", Priscilla gasped as the man fell against her knocking her to her side. "Get out of here!", she yelled as they rolled around in the dark. The man ended up on top and was desperate to shut her up. He put his hand over her mouth. Priscilla was shocked and terrified. She opened her mouth to scream, but he pushed his hand down tighter then reached out for his knife. Priscilla's eyes went wide as she caught a glimpse of the knife in his hand as he brought his arm up. He raised his hand high up and brought it down as hard as he could.

Priscilla threw up her arm in desperation and deflected his arm. His knife stabbed into the ground near her head. He pulled back for another stab, but this time Priscilla wrapped her hands around his arm and held on tight. The man tried to pull his arm away, but he couldn't move it all. Priscilla could feel him struggling and chastised herself for being so afraid. She was stronger than him, a lot stronger. She shouldn't have let herself panic. She held his wrist in both of her hands and started to squeeze her fingers compressing his lower arm. She set her teeth on edge and bore down as hard as she could. The man gasped at the pain and took his hand off her mouth. He pulled with both of his arms now, but Priscilla's grip was like a pincer. It was his turn to panic as her grip tightened still. Priscilla's breath came in a series of soft grunts as her muscles flexed. The man's fingers went numb and the knife fell from his hand. He jerked and pulled to get away, but Priscilla held on. Then he heard people's voices coming closer. They had heard her screams. Priscilla smiled in the darkness. All she had to do was hold on until help arrived. She could see the lantern and lamp light getting closer to her tent.

The man put his feet on the floor at her sides and pulled using his entire body, but he only managed to lift her body off the ground an inch or so. Then he began to snatch and yank so hard that he threatened to pull his own arm out of socket. Finally he did. There was an audible pop, and the angle of his arm changed. He cried out in pain, but managed to slip free of Priscilla's hold. He ran out of the tent, nearly knocking over one of the poles. Priscilla was right behind him.

The town's people saw the man in local clothes run out of the tent holding his injured arm with the half clothed doctor right behind him. The men of the town thought the worst and took off after him. The doctor was fast, but this would be thief was running for his life. He ran towards her dig. In the dim moonlight he couldn't see where he was going, but she knew every inch of that dig site. She'd catch him. He ran to a part of the site that had already been dug. He could feel the doctor closing on him, and a couple of really fast villagers were hot on his heels too. His time was running out. He turned left then let out a lingering scream as the ground beneath him gave way. Priscilla saw him go down, and she put on her brakes. The men behind her hadn't seen. They were still running, so she dug her boots into the sand and extended her arms. Her impressive back flexed wide as she helped stop the men from meeting the thief's fate. "Bring some light up", she said and a man with a lantern shined it down the hole. The thief's body lay at the bottom of a five story pit, broken against a tumble of rocks. Some men blurted out prayers at the sight of the dead body, while others silently believed that he'd gotten what he deserved. Priscilla was seeing something altogether different. She was looking next to the dead body. She could see a face of smooth stone. When the light shined just right, she could see the red, brown, and white pain on the stone. She smiled and stood up straight. No sooner had she stood up than a woman from the village came up behind her and draped garment around her shoulders to cover her. She was wearing a bra, but that wasn't enough in these parts. She knew that and turned to thank the woman.

When she turned, she saw Omar, her foreman, running up half dressed himself with a dozen men behind him. Omar was mostly Nubian with brown skin furthered darkened by the sun, and a tall strong muscular body that he'd earned with hard work. He stood there drenched in sweat with an ax in his hand looking like he could take on a rhino. "We heard you were in trouble", he huffed through deep breaths. He'd run all the way from the small house that he shared with a cousin.

"I'm fine now", Priscilla told him, but her eyes looked at his body a little longer than she wanted them to. Her foreman noticed, but pretended that he didn't.

"You should stay in town Miss", he began. "It's not safe out here."

Priscilla walked up to him. "I'll be fine, but he won't." She pointed down the hole. Her foreman curled his nose as he saw the dead body. "This is where we dig in the morning, Omar. I think we might find something down there."

It was too dark to try and remove the body, so the crowd dispersed and headed back to their homes. Priscilla made it to her tent and started straightening up what the short attack had disarrayed. The town's people were going to keep a discrete watch on Priscilla's tent all night. That made her feel a little better and after a while she'd settled enough to lie down and fall asleep.

The next morning, the doctor woke up even earlier than usual. Her mind was racing in barely controlled excitement. She pulled open her journal and wrote her plans and hopes for the day, before throwing open the tent flap and bursting into the crisp, barely lit morning. The man keeping an eye on her tent nodded in greeting as she emerged. She went right for the site. She was surprised to see Omar and some of the men already there with an 'A' frame erected. He came towards her. "We came here early to remove the body", Omar began. "But it was already gone when we arrived."

Priscilla frowned in confusion. "Was he not dead after he fell?"

Omar shook his head. "He was most certainly dead. There is a pool of blood at the bottom of the shaft and no drops leading away from the spot. The body is just gone. He might have had family in the area. They might have worked through the night to secure the body so the man's identity wouldn't be found out. Pride and shame are serious in these areas."

That made sense Priscilla thought. The digging started in earnest. After a couple of days the entire town had forgotten about the man who had died. On the fourth day they were prepared to send down the camera. Priscilla could hardly contain her excitement. Omar stood to her right when the workers handled a rope that lowered a very nice high definition camera, a low light camera, a light, and a particulate sensor down the now widened shaft to the building below. At first the images on her screen showed nothing, but then she saw the paintings on the wall. The colors were still vivid after so many years. The men rotated the camera in a slow circle. It showed that there was a vast structure down there with corridors and halls that led off to darkness. Even the bright light wasn't able to permeate the darkness. It didn't matter. She had seen enough.

The men started raising the equipment slowly, being careful not to bump anything. Omar had gone to another area of the site to prepare ditches. Rainy season was approaching and drainage was going to become a problem. Priscilla was thinking about what a life saver Omar was when she heard shouts from the men near her. She looked up to see a couple of them straining to pull up the equipment. She frowned and stood up to get a better look. The men leaned into their pulls, and the looks on their faces said that they were giving it their all. Then another man came over to join. They shouted in their native tongue. Priscilla didn't speak it, but she'd been around them long enough to pick up a few words. She knew help when she heard it. She stepped from behind the monitors, and no sooner had she moved than they were snatched off of their stands. They bounced across the dirt as they shot towards the hole. One of the men lost his grip. Another man tripped when the rope lurched forward, and the third man went for a ride. He held the rope tightly as it slid over the top of the A frame. He screamed at the top of his lungs. Even his entire weight wasn't enough to keep the rope from moving. His friends grabbed hold to slow it down, but they were afraid that their strength wouldn't be enough. They were right, but a half a heartbeat later, they saw two feminine hands grab the rope near theirs. Priscilla put her steel toed boots under the lip of the frame itself and pulled back with all of her might.

Her powerful muscled body grew into a single throbbing pump as her muscles rose to the occasion. The man was only a couple of feet from the top of the A frame's top when the momentum shifted. Priscilla gritted her teeth and crunched her body downward. The workers saw the bricks of muscle standout even when covered by her shirt. With a sustained groan Priscilla pulled downward. Jaws dropped as the men got to see their boss's body in real action. The stitching of her shirt frayed and popped as Priscilla's powerful lats flexed. Her shoulders and traps and especially her biceps were pressing against the confining shirt until it was doubtful that the material would be able to hold. The muscles on display seemed to be doing the trick. The rope stopped and started backwards. For a moment the men felt shamed that this woman could do something that they could not. Priscilla squeezed her eyes and pulled again. The rope moved back again, and her muscles blossomed. The rope was moving in the right direction, but then it started going the wrong way again. Priscilla couldn't believe it. It was like a there was an ox on the other end of that rope instead of 50 pounds of equipment. She looked at the man dangling twenty-five feet in the air. She thought about yelling for him to jump, but then she felt a man rush in on her right side. His big strong hands took hold of the rope just above hers. She could feel the heat from his body as he got a good base and pulled backwards.

Priscilla's eyes were glazed and she licked her lips as she looked Omar's glistening body next to hers. His body was the match of any statue. Priscilla had never seen him like this, and it was distracting. She was brought back when the man above them screamed again. Priscilla put Omar out of her mind for the moment and started to pull. Once again her muscles flexed like mad. She tugged with all of her might. Each pull produced a bigger pump in Priscilla's ebony muscles. She could feel the fibers contracting and the blood pumping. The veins of her mighty body were so thick with blood that they too strained her clothes. She grunted and pulled next to Omar. It seemed that with each pull their bodies tried to outdo the other's. Priscilla's muscles had never felt so big and strong. With another pull, the man was halfway down. Priscilla's muscles burned from the long effort, but she had more to give. Sweat ran down her chest and back. With one more pull, the shirt could no longer take it. A tear started at the peak of her insane right bicep muscle. It only got bigger after another sustained effort. The man was only a few feet above the ground. They were about to pull again, and then as if it had been a joke, the resistance stopped.

The dangling man fell to the ground atop Omar, Priscilla, and another man. The camera, light, and sensor shot out of the hole like from a gun, and landed on the sand. There was a moment of silence when people took stock of themselves. "Is everyone ok?", Priscilla asked and slowly pushed her way to a sitting position.

"I believe so", Omar said after spitting sand from his mouth. The other men were uninjured, but they wanted to know what had happened. Priscilla wanted to know too. Omar straightened up and said, "The stuff must have gotten caught. That's all." Most of the younger and inexperienced men believed that, but the older men knew better. Omar knew better as well, so did his boss. Priscilla went to check on the condition of her equipment trying not to think about what had just happened.

Down in the space below a forgotten king smiled, his leathery skin creasing as it performed an unnatural movement for him. He looked to his left at the body that once again lay dead. For a few brief moments that dead thief had been a toy for Jebel's amusements, but he'd had enough fun. He didn't want to scare off the people above before more of them came down and had a chance to play. He would change is mind though a few days later. King Jebel would find an opportunity for something more than fun. He had a chance to be free.

After a few more days of digging, Priscilla caught up to Omar. "Rig up a hoist. I'm ready to go down there."

The foreman's normally serious face went to grave. "I do not believe that is a good idea. We should do some more planning, or perhaps some more digging on the north side to find a more suitable entrance."

"I didn't say I would go down there alone." She patted him on his ruggedly handsome face.

"Lower easy", Omar bellowed to the men manually easing Priscilla down the shaft. Priscilla looked around as she went down. She could see that the floor beneath her was covered with debris that had fallen from the ceiling, but even covered with dirt it was expertly laid in an intricate pattern. Omar sighed in relief when Priscilla's boots touched down. She started speaking into her recording device at once, calling out everything she saw. She unhooked herself with one hand while she still spoke into the recorder. The adjusted the light on her hardhat and moved forward. The walls of this place were painted vibrant colors, and she could tell right away that she wasn't in a tomb. She was in a palace. History didn't even say that there was a palace in this area. She moved again, but was careful to not step on the place where the man had died some days earlier. She approached the wall like a holy relic. She noticed that the image she had seen from the surface was part of a mural.

"There is a scene here", she began into her recorder. "There is a gathering in the image. People are in pious poses. Some are bringing offerings to some unknown deity or priest.

"It's the festival of the goats", she heard Omar's voice in her ear.

She turned quickly to see her foreman settling in next to her. "Excuse me?", she asked.

Omar grinned, showing most of his teeth and pointed. "This shows that the sun is high in the western sky during the time of festival. That shows that it's the festival of the goats."

Priscilla chuckled and pushed the button on the recorder. "The scene, expertly deciphered by Omar, depicts the festival of the goats." He laughed. "Why didn't you tell me that you knew so much about ancient customs?"

"I don't. I just read it right here." He pointed to the hieroglyphs at the side of the mural.

Priscilla leaned past him and read the glyphs then laughed hysterically. She laughed so hard that she fell against Omar's shoulder. He put his hand on her, and kept her upright. "You read the glyphs too! I thought I'd hired a foreman, but I hired a scholar too."

Omar grinned. "I am a foreman, a damned good one, but I learned how to read Egyptian script when I was a boy. My mother was a maid for an Englishman who's only child had died. He decided to teach me in his spare time. Since learning Egyptian, ancient Kushite script has been a hobby of mine."

Priscilla shook her head. "Amazing." The two of them had been planning to crawl around, but this structure was in remarkable shape. They could walk around freely on the stone floor. The ceiling was fifty feet above their head and aside from the hole that the thief had fallen through, it was intact. The heavy wooden beams had weathered and survived thousands of years. They saw furniture and other items that had been untouched for millennia. The place was dark, but the lights on their helmets were good enough to illuminate their way. They walked through a monumental doorway and into a room furnished only by a table and several benches. On the table was a scroll. It was just sitting there like it was waiting to be found. Priscilla photoed the area with a special camera, then wrote everything down before she ever reached out and held the scroll in her glove covered hands. She put it in a container while she and Omar kept going.

Jebel was near them, but he kept his distance. She'd found what he'd left for her. Now it was time to get them out of the palace before they found something that he didn't want them to see. Jebel could barely enter the part of the palace where Omar and Priscilla now walked. It had taken supreme effort to place the scroll where they would find it, but he had gotten some energy by sacrificing the nearly dead thief after he'd fallen 50 feet. It would take more power for him to do what he intended.

They came to a courtyard that had at one time been filled with hundreds of exotic plants and flowers. Only the pots and water channels remained. The walls were still painted a golden brown with red and blue highlights. This palace had been owned by royalty, Priscilla could tell. No mere rich family could have afforded opulence like this. She was looking at the wall when Omar called out for her to wait a moment. He went to a knee and Priscilla turned in time to see him lift up a sword. Her face lit up brighter than the bulb on her helmet. He was holding the most perfectly preserved Bronze Age weapon in all of the Nine Valley. Omar's face was more serious. "It has blood on it." They looked around and found more weapons scattered around this area, then bits of armor and even the odd bone or two that had survived the ages. Priscilla turned towards Omar as he lifted a piece of armor that still had some bits bone left inside. Then Priscilla lifted a bronze spear that had the wooden shaft still intact. There was no comparison to what she was holding. It was balanced like baton. She could have twirled the spear easily, but this was an instrument of war. She saw a pool of ancient blood dried next to the spear. It nearly turned her stomach. She looked around the room feeling like the darkness of the unknown and horrible was pressing in on her. "There was a battle here", Omar declared solemnly.

'And what a battle it was', Jebel thought as he stood in the darkness behind a great pillar. His tattered robes clung to his body loosely, but a faint echo of their splendor remained. He was watching the two people when finally he got a good look at the woman. He was struck. Over the centuries people had stumbled into the ruins, even women on occasion, but none like the one he saw now. He looked with his dead set eyes at a wonderful example of the female form with teasing brown skin over her built up body. Her face didn't compare to the pure regal ebony beauty of his long dead conqueror, Alaria, but her body might be the equal. He had wanted to toy with these people, but after looking at this woman. He needed her. She would be strong enough. He could use her to break the trap. He could make this woman love him. He just needed more power. He moved away quickly.

"Did you see that!", Priscilla exclaimed and nearly dropped a priceless completely intact Kushite vase.

Omar looked around the entire room and saw a dark shape move quickly at the corner of his eye. Goose bumps rose up on Omar's arms. He felt like someone was watching him. He reached down and lifted a bronze sword, but this time not as an artifact, but for its intended purpose. He held it in his hand just like the warrior who'd last held it 4000 years earlier. At once Omar started feeling sick. It was the ages old spell. It was about to claim another victim. Omar was worried and willing to kill, but that wasn't his intent. The spell lost its grip on him.

"We should go", Priscilla said and took Omar gently by the arm. It was the most tender touch Omar had felt in a long time. He looked down into her eyes for a long moment before they started back the way they had come. Omar still clutched the sword, but the further he got from the gallery, the more it started to feel like an artifact and not a weapon. It was dark down here and a bit spooky. The darkness was like a wave that the lights only dented for a moment. Omar was in the realm of his ancestors, but to him it was as alien as another planet.

Omar and Priscilla both panned their heads from side to side as they walked to spot danger or more small artifacts. On one pass, Priscilla stopped. She'd seen something reflect her light. Near a doorway that had long ago collapsed, there sat another scroll. This one was wrapped in a bronze case. It was oxidized, but the scroll inside seemed to be in decent shape. After taking photos and the rest of the procedure, she lifted the case and pulled out gently on the scroll. The ink was still vibrant so she put it back in the case. She would look at it later.

From a distance the ancient king cursed the gods. He thought that he'd found all of those damned things. Even from her grave his sister haunted him and his plans. He would just have to hope that these people would not find Alaria's warning before he was strong enough to attempt his escape into the modern world.

Over the next several weeks this part of the underground palace became a hive of activity. Priscilla and her crew had pulled up two truckloads worth of artifacts that she was storing at a warehouse in Port Sudan. They were finding more things that she could even comprehend. To her it no longer felt like an archeological dig, but more like a big scavenger hunt. It was like she'd found a long abandoned mansion in Beverly Hills and was taking out all the precious things inside. She had crews of men working well into the night. It was hard and sweaty, but with the new finds, Priscilla had easily gotten more funding. She didn't know that a forgotten king was also down there. He was about to make his first move towards regaining the power that he'd lost to his sister so long ago.

Abdulla and his brother Ali worked at the dig site carefully boxing materials to be hauled out. They had loaded three boxes when Ali stopped to wipe his brow. It was hot, but his problems were more than that. He had a bad feeling coming down here. "I hate this place", Ali told his brother. "It is a cursed place. I can feel it."

"I know", Abdulla replied simply and kept working. Both brothers hated being down in this long buried place, but they needed the money. They tried to quicken their pace. They looked at the other men down with them and shared looks of foreboding. Every man felt it. They worked in relative silence with their senses tuned to the highest. All of them could feel eyes following them, but no one would see them until Abdulla got chosen. Ali gave his brother a slight squeeze on his shoulder before he left to take an artifact to be boxed. That left Abdulla alone, but it was only supposed to be for a short time.

Abdulla was stretching his back when he glanced to the side and saw something completely out of place. There was a 6' tall woman off to his right wearing ancient armor over her torso and forearms and calves, but little else was covered. She had skin as smooth as the finest glass and as dark as the purest naphtha. Her long muscles had been forged in ceaseless training for combat. Her body was more a weapon than the spear she held in her right hand. She wore a helmet adorned with feathers on her head that she took off once he spotted her. Her face was as sharp as the rest of her body with lips that begged to be tasted and eyes that bored into Abdulla. The young man had never seen a woman so powerful and erotic in all his life. He felt his dick stiffen under his clothes. He knew it was shameful to allow a woman to control his manhood in such a way, but he was helpless. He started moving towards her. She waited for him to get closer then stepped back into the shadows. Abdulla followed.

A couple of minutes later, Ali came back looking for his brother. He called his name but there was no answer. Ali asked some other men if they had seen Abdulla, but they had not. Ali guessed that his brother had gone back home, but he hadn't. His brother had followed the apparition deeper into the palace, to places where the crew had not yet gone. Jebel's trick lead Abdulla to a point so deep within the palace that no one could hear him scream as the ancient king began the sacrifice.

While Abdulla suffered, Omar reclined comfortably in Priscilla's tent with a transcription of the scroll she'd found on the table. Ever since finding out that her foreman was nearly as good at deciphering ancient script as she was, he's spent as much time in her tent as he had in the field supervising workers. On this night, they translated after he'd prepared her a traditional Sudanese meal. She was working to decipher the images on the bronze case that had covered the last scroll that she'd found that first time in the palace. All she could make out so far was the words, 'By the order of the Queen'. The damage to the case was fairly significant. She'd keep working on it though.

"This scroll is about the exploits of a king named Jebel, and so far I can tell you one thing. He was a pompous ass", Omar declared.

"Most kings are", Priscilla observed. Her face got mischievous before she added, "Lots of men are pompous I've noticed."

Omar lowered the pad and smiled at her. "If you mean me, I am by no means pompous. I have earned my ego. I am simply better than most other men."

"Better at what?"

"Better at most things", Omar replied with a confident grin.

Priscilla leaned closer to him. "You think because you're a big strong man who can read ancient languages that I'm supposed to fall into your arms?"

"I think that you want to fall into my arms, but you are a strong woman perhaps you want me to fall into your arms."

"You like strong women?", Priscilla inquired, playing a bit coy.

"I don't want a weak submissive woman. They have never interested me. I want a woman who is nearly as strong as me."

Priscilla raised an eyebrow. "Nearly?"

"Of course. I mean you are obviously quite strong, but you walk around the site like a female Salah ad-Din while I get my hands dirty doing real work. Of course I'm going to be stronger than you."

Priscilla repositioned herself on the floor of her tent. "That sounds like a challenge."

Omar grinned. "If you want me to show you up, then yes it is a challenge." The two of them stretched their bodies out on the floor. When they got comfortable, Priscilla put her elbow on the floor with her hand waiting to take his. Omar's grip was strong, but that didn't bother Priscilla. It had been a long time since she'd arm wrestled. She used to wrestle her brothers, and after the first year or so she'd stopped arm wrestling her husband. He wasn't strong enough to beat her ever, but Omar was a different story. His proud muscle bunched up as soon as the contest started. Their hands wavered near the start point for a long time, but the pressure kept increasing. With each passing heart beat, their muscles flexed higher and harder. His arm would start over and then her arm, but they would end up in the center every time. Rivulets of sweat ran down Priscilla's face, while Omar's was twisted in real effort. They pulled so hard that they slid their entire bodies closer together. After another burst, their bodies were even closer… close enough. Omar squeezed his hand tighter and pulled himself to Priscilla and kissed her waiting lips. Priscilla paused and her resistance faded away. Omar had forgotten all about the match. He took her behind the head and pulled her head to his. This kiss wasn't tentative like the first had been. Omar was a man who knew what he wanted. He wasn't a man like so many from this area. He knew how to please a woman. He wanted a woman to call his name. He stripped his shirt off while Priscilla quickly undressed. A couple of minutes later Priscilla's eyes rolled in their sockets and she tried to moan her new lover's name, but she only managed, "Ooooo."

While Omar and Priscilla made love, King Jebel was busy. After taking Abdulla, he took four more men. He knew he wouldn't get another chance to execute his plan, so he needed to gather as much power as he could.

The next morning Priscilla woke up feeling like a new woman. Omar had left in the night, but it didn't matter. They had crossed a line and neither of them regretted it. Priscilla had been living for her work for quite a while, but she thought that she'd found something special now. She got dressed and headed to the site. She'd look things over before going through her workout, but this day was different. When she got there, Omar was in the middle of a gaggle of men and several women who were animated about something. He came over her. His face was more serious than she'd ever seen. "We have a problem. Several men went missing over night. Their relatives can't find them anywhere. They were last seen down in the underground areas."

"They must have gotten lost", Priscilla noted quickly. "It's dark down there and easy to do. We should organize and find them. Tell the people that we'll find their loved ones."

There were two groups of people organized to search for the missing men. Maps had been drawn of the rooms, halls, and passages that had been explored, but that was only a fraction of the vast underground labyrinth. Everyone was outfitted with lights and a copy of the map. With that they took off into the dark unknown. Priscilla led one group while Omar led the other. They'd spent the most time down there, and they knew it best. It was a nerve jarring thing anyway.

During the search, they called the men's names over and over again hoping for a reply, but all they got in return were echoes. It was a horrible feeling. Every now and then they would hear a sound that they didn't make, but then noticed that it was just the echoes coming from the other search party. Even though Priscilla was searching for lost men, her mind couldn't help but notice that the opulence and grandeur of the structure was increasing. Then she saw the throne room. It was a time capsule from ancient times. Torn and tattered curtains hung from the ceiling. The purple and gold dyes hadn't faded even after so long. The huge windows of the room were covered with debris. The sun hadn't shone through them in ages. Priscilla started towards the throne. It was a rather simple chair, but raised on its dais and alone, it conveyed the power of the kings who once sat on it. She wanted to go look at it, but she pulled herself away. She saw scuff marks in the dust on the floor. She used her light to signal the men to follow her. They got excited when they saw the scuffs on the floor. It meant that they were on the right trail.

They started calling out names even louder. Their spirits were finally raised. Priscilla stopped when she came to a slight cave-in. It looked recent. The lintel of a doorway had finally succumbed to a hairline crack that it had nursed since the day it was quarried. "They could be back there", she told the men. She put her hand held light to the side and lifted a stone. It was about three feet long and two feet wide. It was heavy, but Priscilla was very strong and very motivated. She tossed it to the side and turned to lift another. The men worked in tandem to lift most stones. They had long ago stopped trying to compete with Priscilla when it came to strength. The only man around who could do that was Omar. Priscilla was covered in sweat and dust after she lifted one more stone. She looked through the opening and saw another corridor. "Let's clear this." They worked for a few more minutes and by the time they were done, they needed to rest. Priscilla took the time to add to her map. She drew an expert sketch of every room they had entered. She gave that to one of the men. "Find Omar and give this to him. When you come back, bring his sketch to me. Do you understand?" The young man nodded and took off the way they had come. After a few minutes, Priscilla led the group down the previously blocked passage.

It was dank here. There must have been some water because the walls sweated. There was a smell of musty death in this passage. She hoped it wasn't her lost men. They kept calling names, but there were no more echoes. The only sounds were their breathing and their footfalls. Priscilla called their names too, hoping that she wouldn't have to go any further. Her adrenaline was pumping and she was scared. She wasn't ashamed to admit it. She could look at the faces of the men around her and see that they too were scared, but they were more committed to finding the missing men. She admired that, and promised herself that she would lead them. She wouldn't give up.

The runner found Omar. By the time he did, Omar and his group were no longer in the palace itself. They had exited through a monumental door and found themselves in a covered approach to the palace that he recognized from the festival of the goats. It looked exactly the same. It was amazing, but he could go no further. He knew from the mural that there was a street beyond, but it was completely covered by the world above. The runner showed Omar the map that Priscilla had drawn. Omar pulled out his pad to add on to his map, but there was no need. This leg of the search was fruitless. The men couldn't have gone that way. "We'll come back with you", he said and they started towards Priscilla.

They were almost where King Jebel wanted them to be. He was no master tactician, but he'd lived long enough to learn a thing or two. He was prepared and now he had the strength to do it. He'd waited so very long for this. He saw the woman walk to the spot that he had chosen. Then Jebel shut his old eyes and called on the power that he had gained from slaying three of the men. It was a rush to feel that much dark energy flow once again. Victory was going to be sweet.

Priscilla stepped out of the corridor and saw an underground stream running across the walkway. The ground was slick, but they crossed it and kept going. Just as they came up some stairs, there was a mighty rumble. The ground and walls shook and pieces of the ceiling came down. "Run! Run!", Priscilla yelled at the top of her lungs, but she could barely be heard over the noise. Several men turned so quickly that they fell down the stairs. Omar and his group ran down the hall when he saw the lights of the other group. They knew that something was bound to collapse. Omar made it to the stream in time to see Priscilla slip on the slimy stairs and hit her head hard. She lay there motionless. Omar made it to the first step. He saw a horrible image of death and life come from the shadows. It moved like a man, but looked like a corpse with grey ragged flesh clinging to dry lifeless bones. The thing wore the remnants of royal clothes. It stood over Priscilla. Omar shouted and rushed forward. The thing turned its dead eyes to Omar, and the foreman felt his heart try to stop beating, but he had to save Priscilla. He went up two steps, before the thing pointed a long finger at the ceiling. In that instant, the first massive stone fell. It crashed to Omar's left. Then another came down and another. Omar was to the fifth step now, but the men would let him go no further. They rushed to him and pulled him backwards. Less than a second later the entire section of ceiling came down. The massive stones weighed several tons apiece. Omar ran up to the pile of rock before the dust had even settled. He pounded his fists against the cold stones in anger and frustration. He turned to the men. They had to do something. Only some of the men had seen the creature at the top of the stairs, and they wouldn't come back down. Omar would gather other men though and came back to break their way through to the other side. Something had Priscilla and he was going to save her. She depended on him.

An hour after the collapse, a gang of men were there digging and chipping with hammers and picks. They had to tunnel through the debris the old fashioned way because they feared another collapse. Omar was first among them. He swung his hammer like his own life depended on it. Never did he miss a beat. It rang out like a song, over and over and over again his hammer fell on the splitting wedge. The others did their best to keep up, but eventually the sounds of many tools dwindled to a few and then finally to one. Omar swung his hammer well into the night.

to be continued...

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