Arista nodded.
“Which one is Novron’s coffin?” Mauvin asked.
“The largest,” Gaunt guessed. “And it would be on the end, wouldn’t it?”
Arista shrugged.
Myron had his head back reading the inscriptions on the walls above the arches, his lips moving slightly as he did.
“Can you tell which it is?” Gaunt asked.
Myron shook his head. “Up there.” He pointed at text on the ceiling. “It says this is the tomb of all the emperors.”
“We know that, but which is Novron?”
“The tomb of all the emperors, but…” Myron looked at the coffins, counting them with his index finger. “There’re only twelve coffins here. The empire lasted for two thousand one hundred and twenty-four years. There should be hundreds.”
Hadrian moved around the room, looking at the sarcophagi. They were made of limestone and beautifully carved, each one different. A few had details of hunting and battle scenes, but one depicted nothing but a beautiful lake surrounded by trees and mountains. Another showed a cityscape and buildings being raised. Several of the archways were empty.
“Could they have been moved?” Hadrian asked Myron.
“Perhaps. Still, there are only twenty alcoves allotted here. Why so few?”
“The rest are probably behind this door,” Magnus suggested. He was at the far end of the crypt, appearing even smaller than normal against the backdrop of the great pillars and statues. “There’s an inscription.”
The rest of them moved to the rear of the tomb to a plain wall with a single door and, over it, a single line of words.
“What does it say, Myron?” Royce asked.
“ ‘HERE LIES NYPHRON THE GREAT, FIRST EMPEROR OF ELAN, SAVIOR OF THE WORLD OF MAN.’ ”
“There you are,” Magnus said. “The first emperor is inside.”
Royce moved forward. The door was cut from rock. A set of stone pins held it fast and a lever hung recessed in the wall beside it. Royce took hold of the arm and rotated it, drawing out the pins, which ground loudly, until at last they came clear.
With a gentle push, Royce opened the tomb of Novron.
Hadrian held the lantern high as everyone stood behind Royce, who was the first to enter. Hadrian followed directly behind, along with Arista, whose robe helped illuminate the chamber. The first thing Hadrian saw was a pair of giant elephant tusks standing to either side of the door. They were arranged such that the points arched toward each other. Black marble pillars supported the four corners of the crypt, and within the space between them, treasure filled the tomb.
There were golden chairs and tables, great chests, and cabinets. To one side stood a chariot made entirely of gold, to the other an elaborately carved boat. Spears lined one wall, and a group of shields another. Statues of men and animals cast of gold and silver, draped with jewelry, stood like silent guards. In the center of the room, raised high on a dais, rested a great alabaster sarcophagus. On the sides were divided frames similar to those etched on the walls—the story of a council, a battle, and a war. Nowhere was there the scene of Maribor bestowing the crown, which Hadrian thought odd, as it was the quintessential image found in every church.
“This is it,” Mauvin muttered in awe. “We’ve found it, the crypt of Novron himself.” The count touched the chariot, grinning. “Do you think this was his? Was this what he rode into battle?”
“Doubt it,” Hadrian said. “Gold is a bit heavy for horses to pull.”
Arista moved around the room, her eyes searching.
“What is the horn supposed to look like?” Royce asked.
“I don’t know exactly,” she said. “But I think it is in the coffin. In fact, I know it is. Esrahaddon placed it there for Nevrik. We need to open it.”
Magnus wedged his chisel under the stone lid and Hadrian, Gaunt, and Mauvin took up positions around the lid. Myron held the lantern high as the dwarf struck his hammer to the spike. The men heaved the lid off.
Inside lay the coffin. Wrought of solid gold, it was body-shaped and sculpted to depict a face, hands, and clothing. They all stared at the image of a small slender man with angled eyes and prominent cheekbones wearing an elaborate helm.
“I don’t understand,” Gaunt said. “What—what are we seeing?”
“It’s only a case,” Mauvin said. “Just decoration. We need to open this one too.”
The nimble fingers of the dwarf found latches and popped them, and everyone helped lift the lid. Once more, they all peered in. Before them lay the remains of Novron the Great.
Hadrian had expected a pile of brittle decaying bones, perhaps even dust, but instead they found a body complete with skin, hair, and clothes. The cloth was gray and rotted such that their breath caused it to flake. The skin was still intact but dry and dark like smoked beef. The eyes were gone, only cavities remaining, but the corpse was remarkably preserved.
“How is this possible?” Gaunt asked.
“Amazing,” Myron said.