Tomb of the Mechanical Pharaoh

Chapter 8

Hawk saw the look on Rebecca's face and felt bad, but the girl should know there was more to Simonetta Belzoni than met the eye. Her eyes grew wide at the sound of gunshots. Hawk glanced around and saw everyone else had stopped in their tracks.

"What was that?" Rebecca asked, fear in her voice.

"Ain't nothing good," Hawk replied. He tapped her on the arm and covertly gestured toward the three Ladies of Flame. They had moved together and taken up a defensive position. Decked out in uniforms of the Egyptian army, pants and jackets, with insignia identifying their ranks and position, they also wore sashes embroidered with hieroglyphs, and from their belts hung sabers and pistols. Priestesses of lion goddess Sakhmit, and if anyone here was prepared to deal with armed attackers, it would be the Ladies of Flame.

He started his way over toward them and Rebecca followed. He noted the insignia on one of the the women's jacket identified her as a djoeis, a captain.

"What are you doing?" the lead priestess said at seeing him. "I need no help, Yankee."

"Yankee?" Hawk muttered to himself and then looked at his blue jacket. "Oh, the coat. Djoeis..."

"Captain Torinre Mowi," the woman replied.

"Captain Mowi, I assure you I ain't no American. But I can help you fight off the intruders."

"You have combat experience?" she said, with disdain in her voice. I counted three coups at the Battle of the Greasy Grass, Hawk thought to himself, but he had no time to explain any of that to Torinre. He turned to Rebecca as he pulled out the mare's laig pistol.

"Rebecca, stay behind us," he said. Scanning the room, he saw no sign of Simonetta, but did see her Very Large Gun, wrapped in burlap sitting on the floor near her seat. Panic was already washing through the other passengers, so Hawk knew he had no chance to get to it.

Before anyone could do anything, three masked men burst through the door with pistols in each hand. "We have seized this airship in the name of God and Jesus Christ his son! Hôs e efnouti!" the lead man shouted. Holding several hostages in front of themselves, they had their guns trained on the Ladies of Flame.

"The Martyrs of St. Mark." Torinre grumbled, which trailed off into several Egyptian swear words. She had her gun at the ready and her other hand was in position to cast a spell.

"Drop your guns!" one of the Martyrs shouted, placing his gun to the head of the sobbing hostage. The Ladies of Flame hesitated when the gun went off, spraying blood all over the crowd. As the body dropped the crowd shouted and Torinre lowered her gun. Her companions did the same as Hawk set his gun down on the floor in front of him and raised his hands.

"We'll do what you say, just don't hurt anyone else," Torinre said.

"Over to the window, you pagan whores!" the leader said. "And if I see so much as a spark on your fingertips, I'll send you to the Devil himself!"

"A fire spell on the airship ain't the best idea anyway," Hawk said, only to have the guns leveled at his face as well. Hawk simply glared back at the gunmen. As long as they didn't search him, they would not find the tomahawk.

"Why are you doing this?" Rebecca said. She was looking around, probably for Simonetta, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"We want to let it be known we will no longer tolerate the idolatrous festival and its celebration of false gods!"

"The Feast of Isis, is it?" Rebecca said. "I am a Christian myself but—" she was cut off by the gun in her face. The gunman looked her over. Hawk could see him noting her pale complexion and crudely applied kohl.