21
Message in the Night
Marcus Brody stabbed another tender slice of prime rib with his fork and prepared to place the tasty morsel into his mouth, "So you believe that we should be looking for a temple devoted to the worship of Isis?" He asked Indiana Jones.
Indiana Jones took a sip of 1922 Tuscan Chianti and set his glass down. Before him on the table next to his salad fork lay the transcribed passage that he'd copied from the Roman scroll of Grachius Calvertus earlier in the day. He picked it up and read the passage aloud again.
"Where the sacred waters of the Nile anoint those of us who worship her glory...where ibises wander to the tune of the flute and sistrum... beneath the stones at the feet of the Goddess I laid to rest the power of the sun."
Allenby drained his own glass of wine, glanced over at Indy's half- empty glass, and then called to his butler for another bottle. Then he spoke, "Not really much there to go on is there?"
Jones shook his head as he stared at the paper, "No, not much at all, but it's all we've got."
"Do you think this is all that Lord Malboury has to go on also?" Allenby asked.
"I doubt it," Marcus said, "finding the Sun Tablets was an obsession with Richard Malboury. He'd been working on it for years. While this passage represents all that we may have to go on, for all we know it may have been just the last piece in the puzzle for Richard."
"Yes, yes, I see what you're saying." Allenby said as his butler showed him a bottle of 1923 Chateau du Rhone. The museum curator nodded his satisfaction and the butler proceeded to uncork the bottle of vintage red wine and pour fresh glasses for the three men.
"The sacred waters of the Nile...," Marcus quoted from the passage, "well at least we can narrow our search down to ...Egypt," he gave a sardonic chuckle.
"Where ibises wander... Do you suppose there is any significance to the mention of ibis birds?" Allenby asked.
Jones looked thoughtful, "well, the ibis is a wading bird that inhabits the banks of the Nile; considered sacred to the Egyptians. To the tune of the flute and sistrum..." Jones now quoted, "flute and sistrum...musical instruments used in temple rituals. It all seems to indicate a temple somewhere near or very near the banks of the Nile, and the fact that Calvertus refers to a female deity, well my best guess would be that Isis would be the goddess he refers to.
"Yes but we must consider all of the female Egyptian deities mustn't we?" Allenby said, "Why there's Maat, the Goddess of truth and justice, there's Hathor with her many spiritual roles, there's Nut, Tefnut, Bastet the cat headed Goddess of pleasure and plenty...there's quite an impressive menagerie of female deities in the Egyptian pantheon."
"True," Indiana Jones said, "but when Calvertus uses the words worship her glory, to me that can only refer to the greatest of Egyptian female deities, and that would be Isis, wife of Osiris, mother of Horus," Jones shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know, call it a hunch."
Allenby raised his eyebrows slightly and smiled, "Well Indy, who would I be to argue with another of your... 'hunches'?" Then their host pushed his chair back from the table, "Gentlemen, I hope the meal was to your satisfaction."
"Fantastic," Indy said.
"Wonderful, I couldn't eat another bite. And the wine was extraordinary," Marcus complimented him.
Allenby glanced at the large grandfather clock that adorned the far wall of the dining room, "Well then, let us adjourn to the smoking room for cigars and brandy, and await the arrival of our guests."
Outside the weather had grown increasingly warmer, and wetter. The winter warm front that had moved in to the London area had brought with it a heavy dose of that old London staple...fog.
As they entered Allenby's large, comfortable smoking room the curator turned to Marcus, "You're sure Marcus that you want to stay up to see in the New Year. You've got to be leaving for Cairo in the morning."
"I wouldn't miss it for anything," Marcus answered, "to snub Father Time's baby boy would be to bring bad luck for the whole year."
Indiana Jones took a look out the large bay window of the smoking room, "I just hope that 1938 can find its way through this pea soup, or we may be stuck in 1937 for a while."
"Well it should be an interesting evening. Among others I've invited Professor Steven Lucas." Allenby said.
"The, Steven Lucas, from Cambridge?" Marcus asked.
"Yes," Allenby said, "I know that both of you gentlemen are interested in his theories on the whole Atlantis question."
"Absolutely," Indiana Jones said, "I've always wanted to meet Mr. Lucas. It will be a pleasure to finally get a chance to meet him personally."
A short while later the guests for Allenby's modest New Year's Eve party began to arrive. By ten o'clock what had started out as a modest party began to liven up. Ale, champagne, and brandy flowed freely and loosened inhibitions. The conversation was lively, interesting and enlightening. Indiana Jones engaged Professor Lucas in fascinating discussions; everything from interesting theories on the lost civilization of Atlantis, to of all things, the motion picture industry. Jones found it interesting that Lucas thought that in the future the motion picture industry was going to be one of the biggest and most profitable industries in the world.
"I guess only time will tell," Jones said with smile.
"Doctor Jones," It was Allenby's butler speaking.
Indiana Jones turned around, "Yes?"
The butler held out a small envelope in his hand, "This message for you sir."
Indy looked curiously and a bit apprehensively at the envelope for a moment before reaching out his hand and taking it.
"Thank you Paul," he said to the butler, then turned around "Excuse me Professor Lucas."
Jones walked over to the fireplace and placed his brandy down on top of the mantle. He looked at the envelope. Written on it was his name... Indiana Jones. There was a finite list of people in the world who knew of him as Indiana rather than Henry, and Jones hastened to open the envelope, spurred on by curiosity.
When he began to read it he was shocked. It was from one of the last people he would have expected it to be from.
"How could she get this message to me?" he mumbled to himself in disbelief.
The message was from Vadoma.
Indiana Jones, please help me. The Nazis will come tonight to kill me. Please hurry.
For a few moments Jones just stood there staring at the stark message; confusion and shock vying with each other in his mind. Then he quickly crossed the room in search of Paul, the butler.
"Paul!" Jones called out to the man, "Paul, who delivered this?" he said as he held up the envelope.
"Well sir," the butler answered, "it was rather strange."
"Yes?" Jones said.
"Well it was a very old ...gypsy woman if I'm not mistaken."
Message in the Night
Marcus Brody stabbed another tender slice of prime rib with his fork and prepared to place the tasty morsel into his mouth, "So you believe that we should be looking for a temple devoted to the worship of Isis?" He asked Indiana Jones.
Indiana Jones took a sip of 1922 Tuscan Chianti and set his glass down. Before him on the table next to his salad fork lay the transcribed passage that he'd copied from the Roman scroll of Grachius Calvertus earlier in the day. He picked it up and read the passage aloud again.
"Where the sacred waters of the Nile anoint those of us who worship her glory...where ibises wander to the tune of the flute and sistrum... beneath the stones at the feet of the Goddess I laid to rest the power of the sun."
Allenby drained his own glass of wine, glanced over at Indy's half- empty glass, and then called to his butler for another bottle. Then he spoke, "Not really much there to go on is there?"
Jones shook his head as he stared at the paper, "No, not much at all, but it's all we've got."
"Do you think this is all that Lord Malboury has to go on also?" Allenby asked.
"I doubt it," Marcus said, "finding the Sun Tablets was an obsession with Richard Malboury. He'd been working on it for years. While this passage represents all that we may have to go on, for all we know it may have been just the last piece in the puzzle for Richard."
"Yes, yes, I see what you're saying." Allenby said as his butler showed him a bottle of 1923 Chateau du Rhone. The museum curator nodded his satisfaction and the butler proceeded to uncork the bottle of vintage red wine and pour fresh glasses for the three men.
"The sacred waters of the Nile...," Marcus quoted from the passage, "well at least we can narrow our search down to ...Egypt," he gave a sardonic chuckle.
"Where ibises wander... Do you suppose there is any significance to the mention of ibis birds?" Allenby asked.
Jones looked thoughtful, "well, the ibis is a wading bird that inhabits the banks of the Nile; considered sacred to the Egyptians. To the tune of the flute and sistrum..." Jones now quoted, "flute and sistrum...musical instruments used in temple rituals. It all seems to indicate a temple somewhere near or very near the banks of the Nile, and the fact that Calvertus refers to a female deity, well my best guess would be that Isis would be the goddess he refers to.
"Yes but we must consider all of the female Egyptian deities mustn't we?" Allenby said, "Why there's Maat, the Goddess of truth and justice, there's Hathor with her many spiritual roles, there's Nut, Tefnut, Bastet the cat headed Goddess of pleasure and plenty...there's quite an impressive menagerie of female deities in the Egyptian pantheon."
"True," Indiana Jones said, "but when Calvertus uses the words worship her glory, to me that can only refer to the greatest of Egyptian female deities, and that would be Isis, wife of Osiris, mother of Horus," Jones shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know, call it a hunch."
Allenby raised his eyebrows slightly and smiled, "Well Indy, who would I be to argue with another of your... 'hunches'?" Then their host pushed his chair back from the table, "Gentlemen, I hope the meal was to your satisfaction."
"Fantastic," Indy said.
"Wonderful, I couldn't eat another bite. And the wine was extraordinary," Marcus complimented him.
Allenby glanced at the large grandfather clock that adorned the far wall of the dining room, "Well then, let us adjourn to the smoking room for cigars and brandy, and await the arrival of our guests."
Outside the weather had grown increasingly warmer, and wetter. The winter warm front that had moved in to the London area had brought with it a heavy dose of that old London staple...fog.
As they entered Allenby's large, comfortable smoking room the curator turned to Marcus, "You're sure Marcus that you want to stay up to see in the New Year. You've got to be leaving for Cairo in the morning."
"I wouldn't miss it for anything," Marcus answered, "to snub Father Time's baby boy would be to bring bad luck for the whole year."
Indiana Jones took a look out the large bay window of the smoking room, "I just hope that 1938 can find its way through this pea soup, or we may be stuck in 1937 for a while."
"Well it should be an interesting evening. Among others I've invited Professor Steven Lucas." Allenby said.
"The, Steven Lucas, from Cambridge?" Marcus asked.
"Yes," Allenby said, "I know that both of you gentlemen are interested in his theories on the whole Atlantis question."
"Absolutely," Indiana Jones said, "I've always wanted to meet Mr. Lucas. It will be a pleasure to finally get a chance to meet him personally."
A short while later the guests for Allenby's modest New Year's Eve party began to arrive. By ten o'clock what had started out as a modest party began to liven up. Ale, champagne, and brandy flowed freely and loosened inhibitions. The conversation was lively, interesting and enlightening. Indiana Jones engaged Professor Lucas in fascinating discussions; everything from interesting theories on the lost civilization of Atlantis, to of all things, the motion picture industry. Jones found it interesting that Lucas thought that in the future the motion picture industry was going to be one of the biggest and most profitable industries in the world.
"I guess only time will tell," Jones said with smile.
"Doctor Jones," It was Allenby's butler speaking.
Indiana Jones turned around, "Yes?"
The butler held out a small envelope in his hand, "This message for you sir."
Indy looked curiously and a bit apprehensively at the envelope for a moment before reaching out his hand and taking it.
"Thank you Paul," he said to the butler, then turned around "Excuse me Professor Lucas."
Jones walked over to the fireplace and placed his brandy down on top of the mantle. He looked at the envelope. Written on it was his name... Indiana Jones. There was a finite list of people in the world who knew of him as Indiana rather than Henry, and Jones hastened to open the envelope, spurred on by curiosity.
When he began to read it he was shocked. It was from one of the last people he would have expected it to be from.
"How could she get this message to me?" he mumbled to himself in disbelief.
The message was from Vadoma.
Indiana Jones, please help me. The Nazis will come tonight to kill me. Please hurry.
For a few moments Jones just stood there staring at the stark message; confusion and shock vying with each other in his mind. Then he quickly crossed the room in search of Paul, the butler.
"Paul!" Jones called out to the man, "Paul, who delivered this?" he said as he held up the envelope.
"Well sir," the butler answered, "it was rather strange."
"Yes?" Jones said.
"Well it was a very old ...gypsy woman if I'm not mistaken."