Kane couldn’t think of anything to say. He nodded to Jamal and went over the wall, and the Somali passed the tools down to them and they started work.
It took them half an hour to lever out the first stone and Jamal’s great strength proved invaluable. The pressure of the water pushed the stone the last few inches like a cork from a bottle, and a great foaming jet splashed out into the slot and rushed down into the darkness below.
Once the gap had been made, the rest was easy. Jamal reached in, water cascading over his back and pulled the next stone away by hand.
Within a moment they were knee-deep in water and Kane turned quickly to Cunningham. ‘Now we’ve made the breach, the whole damned lot might come down. We’d better get back on the other side out of harm’s way.’
They climbed over the wall and stood on the bank of shale and sand that had been formed by the years in the corner of the wall and the cave, and gradually the level of the pool dropped.
By now, the river, as it emerged from the slide, was finding its new exit and the wall started to vibrate with the shock. After about half an hour, it sagged in the centre and then cascaded outwards into the slot.
Already the top of the tunnel was showing, and within another ten minutes, there was no more than two feet of water in it. The Somali took the lamp and ducked into the tunnel and Kane slipped the sling of his sub-machine gun over his shoulder and followed.
As he plunged forward into the darkness, water swirling around his knees, he thought of the men who had worked here in the bowels of the earth all those years ago; worked in the darkness, patiently, perhaps for years, that their queen might have a secure resting-place in death.
The river emptied into a wide lake with startling suddenness and he found himself swimming again. Jamal held the lamp high above his head, and its rays picked out a row of carved pillars on the far side and a landing stage.
The Somali reached it first and heaved himself up with easy strength in spite of the fact that the water level of the lake had obviously dropped several feet. He then knelt down and pulled up Kane and Cunningham in turn.
Kane took the lamp and moved forward between the pillars and entered a wide passage which sloped gently upwards. A few moments later, the beam from the lamp splayed itself against a blank wall.
He dropped to one knee and examined it closely. ‘From the look of it, this central block pivots,’ he said to Cunningham.
He spoke rapidly in Arabic to Jamal and the Somali dropped to his knee and pushed against the great stone wall with all his strength. It refused to budge. The Somali gave a grunt and his back ridged, muscles standing out like cords. Still the stone remained immobile.
Kane dropped to his knees and leaned a shoulder against the stone, and Cunningham moved in on the other side. For a moment, it was as if they were faced with all the power in the world, as if something supernatural was determined they should not leave, and then the stone turned with a groan.
Kane scrambled to his feet and looked about him. They were standing in the temple, and the stone was one of those set in the base of the high altar.
They pushed it back into place, moved outside and stood on the terrace, the morning sun bright in their eyes. The gorge lay still and calm about them and Cunningham frowned. ‘It’s damned quiet.’
‘Most of the Bedouins pulled out with that caravan yesterday afternoon,’ Kane reminded him. The rest have probably made an early start this morning.’
He led the way cautiously towards the encampment, using what cover was available. When he neared the edge of the hollow, he got down on his belly and crawled the rest of the way.
The encampment no longer existed. Tents, trucks -everything had gone. For a moment he lay there, a frown on his face, and then Jamal tapped him on the shoulder and pointed beyond the oasis to where a faint tracer of smoke lifted into the morning air.