The Discovery of the Tomb for an Unknown Egyptian Princess

By Anita Sumariwalla

This novella begins around 1970 at the LaRoches’ farm in a small French-speaking village called Sainte Riviere hidden behind the hills above Lake Geneva, Switzerland.

At seventeen, Ariane learns her true identity during a visit from a stranger. Her whole life, as she has known it, is turned upside down.

Six years later, she graduates from the University of Geneva with a degree in archaeology.

The prospect of helping her father and his team to possibly discover an important tomb is irresistible. She works at the Narhami excavation site in a deserted valley in Upper Egypt. The tomb turns out to be that of an unknown Egyptian princess who married a king from Nubia.

During these months, Ariane not only finds ancient royal treasures but much more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 12, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796038231

Anita Sumariwalla

Anita Sumariwalla was born in the French part of Switzerland; studied in France, Italy, U.K. and the USA. She met her future husband Russy Sumariwalla in 1959 who was en route to the USA. Anita immigrated to the USA in 1961 to join Russy. She took up painting [mostly oil] and exhibited her work in Amherst, Mass; Pacifica and St. Helena, California; Mclean Virginia; and Ashland and Medford, Oregon. She taught languages in schools in Belvedere, California, Bement and Stockbridge in Massachusetts and served as French instructor for Peace Corps training program for volunteers in Niger, Ivory Coast, and Senegal. Anita was a born story-teller and writer. She wrote countless little stories for children and adults but never published till late in life. Xlibris published her novel Alexa-Alessadra A Story of Love and a collection of short stories, Memories and Impressions of Switzerland Ten Short Stories.

Book preview

The Discovery of the Tomb

for an Unknown

Egyptian Princess

A Novella

Anita Sumariwalla

Copyright © 2019 by Anita Sumariwalla.

Cover and Interior Illustrations by Anita Sumariwalla.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Rev. date: 06/12/2019

Xlibris

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CONTENTS

List of Characters

Places

Chapter 1 The Beginning

Chapter 2 A Very Different Home

Chapter 3 Six Years Later

Chapter 4 Arrival in Egypt

Chapter 5 Arrival at Narhami Excavation Site

Chapter 6 The First Chamber

Chapter 7 Internship for Ariane

Chapter 8 Princess Naferi Is Crowned as Queen Naferi-Namu

Chapter 9 An Heir for King Akatari Monumata!

Chapter 10 Foreign Invasion and Death

Chapter 11 Six Sarcophagi

Chapter 12 Kom-Ombo

Chapter 13 The Declaration by King Nimbu-Aktari

Chapter 14 Goddess Isis Guides Princess Naferi Back to Egypt

Chapter 15 The Removal of the Lid

Chapter 16 The Royal Princess Naferi

Chapter 17 Three Caravans to Kom-Ombo

Chapter 18 Leaving

Chapter 19 The Sleeping Princess

Chapter 20 An Unexpected Welcome Party

Chapter 21 A Pit, an Admission, and the Last Treasure

Chapter 22 The Emerald Necklace

Chapter 23 It’s Gone!

Chapter 24 A Difficult Decision

Chapter 25 Preparations

Chapter 26 The Opening

Chapter 27 The Celebration

Chapter 28 An Arab Wedding

Chapter 29 A Western Wedding

Chapter 30 Is There Another Tomb?

Sources for Research

Dedication

I would like to dedicate this Novella to my husband, to whom I am enormously indebted for his unfailing support and encouragement during the birth of this story.

I would also like to express my gratitude to my two special friends – Mrs. Bunny Barinaga and Mrs. Barbara Guichard - who read the manuscript and contributed excellent suggestions.

List of Characters

Places

Sainte Riviere, hamlet in French-Switzerland

Geneva, French-speaking city in Switzerland

Cairo, capital of Egypt

Kom-Ombo, city in Upper Egypt, Narhami Camp excavation site, four hours camel ride from Kom-Ombo

Arab Greetings

Assalamu alaikum (peace be with you)

Wa-alaikum as-salam (response, same meaning)

Insh’Allah (God willing)

Khoda Hafiz (greetings and/or blessings)

Chapter One

The Beginning

Sainte Riviere is one of several hidden hamlets behind the hills, draped with vineyards between Geneva and Lausanne. Some of the hamlets consist of four to five farms that are surrounded by lush forests, wide open fields, and rich meadows sprinkled with glorious wildflowers. Even before the tender veil of fog evaporates, teased by the early sunrays, one can hear the leisurely tinkling of cowbells.

It was a glorious spring evening on a Saturday when the phone rang at the LaRoches’ farmhouse.

The farmer, Ernest LaRoche, answered, Ah, good evening, Dr. Lancel. Thank you, we are fine. Tomorrow? Yes, that will be fine. You may want to have lunch with us after church? Good. I’ll tell Helene and Ariane—No, no, it will be no imposition at all. Where would you like to meet, and at what time? Yes, yes. You know where the chapel is at Saint Brooks. Good. We’ll see you tomorrow. Goodbye, Dr. Lancel.

Did I hear you say Dr. Lancel? Helene asked her husband.

Yes. He is coming to meet us at the chapel. I don’t know if before or after the service.

At supper, Ernest LaRoche sat at the head of the kitchen table. As usual, his plaid shirtsleeves were rolled up to the elbows from washing his hands before dinner. He was of medium height with sturdy muscles from hard work. The sun, wind, and weather had darkened his face. Years had drawn lines across his forehead, around his eyes, and around his mouth. At his temples, the brown hair had already turned white, which emphasized his fifty-three years of age. Thick brows stretched over his kind brown eyes.

At the bottom of the table sat his wife, Helene. She too was of medium height but slightly plump. Light-brown hair framed her round face with healthy red cheeks, while her bright-blue eyes and pretty mouth seemed always ready to smile. She was usually lively, had a nice sense of humor, and was talkative during meals. But on this Saturday evening, after the telephone call with Dr. Lancel, Helene LaRoche was amazingly quiet during dinner. Ernest, her husband, felt sorry for her. He knew of her worries, but they both had to wait until later to talk about it.

Seventeen-year-old Ariane sat on Helene’s right side. She was tall and slender for her age. A bright-blue ribbon matching her dress held her honey-blond shoulder-length hair away from her face. Unusually dark-brown eyes contrasted her very pale skin, which stretched smoothly over delicate high cheekbones across her face. Whenever she smiled, her fresh red lips displayed even white teeth while each cheek created a small dimple.

Seated next to Ariane were two young girls, Julie and Rosette, who helped out around the farmhouse. The twin sisters were very pretty with their auburn hair, red cheeks, and ready smiles. They had recently graduated from high school. The twins belonged to a poor farm family in a neighboring village. Even though they both had received very good grades at school, there was not enough money to send the girls to learn a trade. Julie and Rosette were quite happy to help out Mrs. LaRoche while earning some money. During weekdays, they shared a room at the LaRoches’ but returned home on weekends. It was quite common in the villages nestled behind the hills above Lake Geneva for girls and boys to know one another from early childhood on and to marry whomever they liked. Julie and Rosette were no exceptions. They had selected their future husbands. Each was happily anticipating married life on a farm.

Opposite the girls sat two Italian farm helpers, Roberto and Umberto. Like their boss, Ernest LaRoche, both were of medium height and of muscular build. Growing up under the Sicilian sun had turned their olive skin even darker. Roberto was two years older than his brother, Umberto. They resembled each other, except Roberto experimented with growing a mustache. Dark-brown hair matched their eyes, which were alert and noticed everything around them. They were good and reliable workers. Mutual respect and appreciation existed between Ernest LaRoche and the two Italians. Quite often, one could hear the brothers singing their favorite Italian songs while they worked around the fields and farm. Three years ago, Roberto and Umberto had arrived in Switzerland. They had come to earn enough money to return home one day to buy their own farm. Ernest LaRoche knew of their plans and paid them a bit more than what the other farm helpers received in order to help them fulfill their dream.

Much later that evening, in the LaRoches’ bedroom, an exhausted Helene sat down on the bed. Ernest, do you think Dr. Lancel will take Ariane with him?

He didn’t say. But, darling, we always knew that he would take her home one day.

Helene nodded while suppressing sobs. Yes. But it seems that only a few years ago, we received the tiny baby girl Ariane to care for. And now she is so grown up.

Ernest sat down next to her on the bed. Helene, just think how much joy we had bringing her up. She was always such a good girl.

Yes, I know. That is what makes it so hard to give her back. Tears laced Helene’s lament.

We’ll always have the memories of Ariane with us.

Helene frowned. Do you think we made a mistake in not telling her?

Remember, it was Dr. Lancel who thought it might make it easier for Ariane to think of us as her parents while she was small, Ernest reminded his wife. We both agreed with him.

Still, I don’t know how she will react.

No, we won’t know until we tell her.

Who is we? Dr. Lancel or us? Helene asked.

I think it is best to allow Dr. Lancel to explain to Ariane the situation.

Both Helene and Ernest passed a very restless night.

After Sunday breakfast, Ariane was instructed by Helene to use the best damask tablecloth and set the table for four in the living-dining room—complete with the good china, the sterling silverware, and the good glasses for wine and water. Then on a small tray, she set out four liquor glasses for after lunch. Ariane, please pick some tulips and daffodils. Arrange them in the low crystal bowl for the center of the table.

Is this Dr. Lancel coming here to eat with us?

Helene LaRoche nodded. Yes, he is. You will find out who he is.

Ariane looked surprised. Can’t you tell me now?

No, my dear, I am afraid I cannot tell you. Go upstairs and put on a nice dress.

Ariane selected her favorite navy blue dress with white lace collar and combed her hair with special care. When she returned to the kitchen, she noticed her mother had also put on her favorite dress. Her father was wearing his best shirt and held his favorite tie in his hand. Ariane smiled as she remembered that he had forgotten how to tie a cravat. It was his wife who had to do this task. Ariane noticed that Roberto and Umberto wore their best suits, which they had received last Christmas from their boss.St. Paul’s Chapel in Saint Brooks was situated in the center of the region and d served several hamlets. The LaRoche family sat always with their two Italian workers in the third pew. The neighbors understood that the two guest workers were considered part of the LaRoche family.

Looking around the chapel, Ariane couldn’t see this Dr. Lancel anywhere. There were no strangers attending the service. The sermon appeared unusually long to Ariane. To distract her mind, she reached for the hymnal book, but Helene LaRoche took it and replaced it in the slot of the bench before them. A deep, frustrated sigh escaped the girl, which earned her a sympathetic glance from her mother. Even the singing of the hymns seemed to be slower. The entire service was utterly boring.

Finally, the blessings were offered from the pasteur’s lectern and the harmonium that replaced an organ began to play. The congregation filed unhurriedly out of their bench rows. At the exit, everybody was greeted by Monsieur Le Pasteur. The path from the chapel led through the cemetery to the entrance gate.

It was there Ariane noticed a man whom she didn’t know. She whispered to her mother, Is this him?

Mrs. LaRoche nodded. Yes. She approached the stranger and shook hands with him. How are you, Dr. Lancel?

Ariane remained at a distance, observing and waiting.

Ernest LaRoche led Ariane by the arm to meet the man. Ah, good morning, Dr. Lancel. You know Ariane, of course. The men shook hands.

How can he know me? Ariane puzzled silently.

Good morning, Ariane. How are you? Dr. Lancel greeted.

Good morning, Dr. Lancel. Fine, thank you, she answered politely while looking at him with curiosity. She estimated him to be in his early fifties. He was somewhat taller than she. How is it that he has the same deep dark-brown eyes like I have? He looks very distinguished in this gray suit with the navy tie. Who is he?

It is wonderful to see you again, Ariane. The voice of Dr. Lancel intruded her observations. He extended his hand, which she shook politely but briefly. He sensed her hesitation.

You will think me rude, Dr. Lancel, but I do not remember you.

He understood. Yes, I am not surprised. It has been a while since you saw me last. A sudden sadness filled him while gazing at this girl—this Ariane. My Ariane! He recognized an amazing resemblance to his late wife, Ariane Noelle. His daughter had the same pale skin like her mother, which stretched smoothly across her wide forehead and over high cheekbones to the sensitive lines of her lips. He remembered so well of his beloved wife. But her eyes—he was very happy to realize, thinking, Ariane has my eyes! He smiled at her. It doesn’t matter. We’ll make up.

Ariane didn’t know what he meant and remained quiet.

Dr. Lancel continued gazing at his daughter. She has her mother’s gorgeous honey-blond hair. Ariane looked pretty in her navy dress, which emphasized her tall and slender figure. He was very pleased.

Ernest LaRoche introduced Roberto and Umberto to Dr. Lancel, who conversed with them in fluent Italian.

Now that we all have met, we can go home and have lunch, Helene LaRoche declared. She seemed suddenly in a hurry and started walking toward their car.

Before lunch, Ariane was asked by Ernest LaRoche to join him, his wife, and their guest in the living room. With a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, Ariane entered the room and stood just inside the door and waited.

Come, Ariane, sit next to me on the sofa, Helene LaRoche invited. The sofa was opposite the comfortable armchairs occupied by the two men. "Ernest, I think Ariane could do with a drop of Cinzano. Just a drop to mark this special occasion."

Finally, Ariane asked, What is this special occasion?

Dr. Lancel spoke first, May I explain, please.

Both Helene and Ernest nodded in relieved agreement.

Thank you. For a long moment, Dr. Lancel collected his thoughts. He looked very serious when he addressed Ariane. All these years, I have been trying to find a way to tell you and explain to you that I am not a stranger to you. It is difficult—and sad in a way—to tell you that your LaRoche parents are your foster parents.

The girl’s forehead wrinkled into a frown. She interrupted, Then who are you?

You, Ariane, are my daughter. He paused to observe her reaction.

She stared at him. Why did you not tell me before? Why did you leave me here? You abandoned me! She accused angrily.

Her father nodded with understanding. We, your LaRoche foster parents and I, have been wondering when it would be the best time to tell you what happened. He shook his head. Perhaps, there is never a best time.

Ariane folded her hands in her lap so tightly that her knuckles turned white. This is the best time. Please tell me now. If you are truly my father, why did you abandon me? Pain and impatience trembled in her voice.

Jules Lancel struggled with this accusation, which hurt him deeply. Ariane, you will never know how incredibly heartbreaking it was for me to give you away, even to these lovely LaRoches. I wanted to come every day to take you home. After your mother died, I realized with great pain that I could never adequately care for you since I had to spend most of the years in Egypt. You needed a secure family upbringing. Whenever I was in Switzerland, I came here to visit you every Sunday when you were little. In a way, I felt that I was mourning not only for the passing of your beautiful mother, Ariane Noelle, but for having lost you as well. Those were desperate times for me. I think the only thing that saved me was my work in Egypt. I kept in constant touch with your foster parents, who love you as if you were their own daughter. Please, Ariane, never think that I abandoned you! In my heart, you were always surrounded with my love. He paused then nodded as he continued. Yes, you need to know everything from the beginning.

Helene LaRoche said, Ariane, you must know that your father was very concerned about you. He never abandoned you. He came here as often as he could when you were little. Later on, we didn’t know if it would confuse you to have two fathers.

But my name is Ariane LaRoche, isn’t it?

We only lent you our family name to avoid questions for you in school, Ernest LaRoche explained.

So what is my real name? Who am I? Ariane sounded confused.

"You are Ariane Marie-Louise Lancel. My and my late wife’s biological daughter. Your mother’s name was Ariane Noelle, and I am Jules Lancel. But please, Ariane, allow me to tell you everything from the beginning."

Ariane felt uncertain. She folded her arms across her chest as if to brace herself for anything, but she was eager to know the truth.

"When your