Page 36 of Over the Emerald Valley
“I find my lack of simple access to records and inventory suspicious. If you were in compliance with your agreement with the pharaoh, I would be done by now. A full accounting of the mine’s production should be readily available, not shrouded in ‘protocol.’”
“Apologies, General. The mines are an enormous operation with many moving parts. If only it were so simple.” Abasi swept a hand toward a darkened hallway Solon hadn’t yet accessed. “Through here.”
The stones sloped slightly downward beneath his feet. “Are there lamps?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes, I’m sure there are.”
“Can they not be lit?”
“I’ll guide you. My eyesight is quite clear despite the dark.” Abasi’s clammy hand landed on Solon’s forearm and urged him forward. “The guards will have lit the lamps farther ahead. We’re nearly there.”
Solon clenched and unclenched his fists. The rumors of underground passageways beneath the palace held some truth to them. They must be at least one story beneath the earth by now.
“Careful,” said Abasi. “There are steps ahead.”
Dim light from the bottom of the short staircase filtered up enough to make out the top step. There must be more than one path to access this chamber. A cool, damp breeze sent a chill to his nape.
“This way.” Abasi turned a sharp corner left, and again Solon noted the direction in case he needed to return—or to make his way out in a hurry.
They passed four closed doors and approached a huge guard at the fifth. The man was so tall he had a slight stoop to his neck to fit beneath the low ceiling.
“Has this access been documented?” asked Abasi.
The guard nodded. “Yes, Viceroy, and Khu has been made aware.”
“Good. Open the door for the general.”
The guard slid a slim key into the lock. A click sounded, and he pulled the door open.
“Go right ahead.” Abasi and the guard stood aside, making no motion to enter themselves.
“After you,” ordered Solon. His gut alerted him to the trap. How easy it would be for them to slam the door behind him and lock him inside.
Abasi hesitated. His expression held reluctance, quickly masked by false hospitality. The man wasn’t stupid. If they wanted Solon prisoner in that chamber, they’d have to wrestle him in themselves, and though the guard was heavy and muscled, Solon hadn’t risen to the rank of army general for nothing.
“Of course.” Abasi strolled through the entrance. He made pointed eye contact with the guard, who wasn’t nearly as good at concealing his expression.
“And you,” Solon insisted.
Abasi nodded to the man, and he too entered the chamber.
Only then did Solon follow.
Emeralds by the thousand. In buckets and barrels, stacked on shelves upon shelves, covering the entire floor save for a small path between rows. Green brilliance warped the lamplight to an eerie glow so that the entire room gleamed emerald.
With one eye still on the door and listening for sounds of footsteps, Solon took it all in. A pharaoh’s ransom in jewels. If some were missing, how would anyone prove it?
“We’re due a transport at the end of flood season. Half by the Red Sea, half by the Nile.” Abasi kept his voice neutral, though Solon was sure his plans had been thwarted.
Solon scanned the stacks and buckets with an abundance of jewels, though they weren’t densely packed. In fact, each container seemed strategically placed to make the room seem as full as possible, but realistically, were they all shoved closer, this space could house double the amount.
The guard crossed his arms and scowled.
Solon mostly ignored him. He spotted no exit besides the door at his back and heard no approach of other men. There was no way to lock Solon in without being locked in themselves.
All this fuss for some green rocks. Solon peered into the nearest bin, dug his hand through the rough stones—not yet polished, not yet shining, but still beautiful in their raw form—picked up a handful, and studied them closer.
Why were some rocks worthless and others treasured? And who decided? Not men like Solon. What cared he for emeralds?
