The Ancient Curse by Valerio Massimo Manfredi Read Free Book Online

waited to allow his vision to adjust to the shadowy light and to the contrast between the sliver of wall illuminated by the bright sun and the gloom all around.
    It was on his left that he first distinguished the body of a reclining woman sculpted softly into a block of alabaster. The statue represented a person at the height of her beauty, at an age which wasn’t definable, maybe thirty or so. She was resting on her right elbow so that she faced the other sarcophagus on the opposite wall. The contrast was striking: the second coffin was a bare, roughly carved block of sandstone, without the slightest embellishment of any sort.
    The female figure was wearing her jewellery: a necklace, a bracelet, rings and earrings, and her hair was gathered at the nape of her neck with a ribbon. Her facial expression, in the pale flesh tones of the alabaster, was extraordinarily sweet, but a further glance revealed an intense, pained pride.
    Fabrizio couldn’t get over the strangeness of the situation. He walked up to the first sarcophagus and ran his hand lightly along its edge. What he discovered in doing so was even more mystifying: it was sculpted in a single block of stone, almost certainly solid, which meant that there was no one buried inside. A cenotaph: a symbolic tomb. This was rare, for Etruscan times; in fact, it was possibly the only one of its kind. Fabrizio had never seen, or read about, anything like it. He carefully inspected the sides and the back but could find no sign of a separation between the coffin and its cover. What was also very unusual was the absence of a name or marking of any kind.
    He turned towards the second sarcophagus and was struck by how the floor around it was scored by deep, irregular gouges, as if iron claws had scratched away at that smooth finish. His mind was flooded with fangs and claws, with that ferocious howl ripping through the night.
    Fabrizio forced himself to start taking measurements and to draw the layout of the tomb with the various objects it contained. But his eyes kept going back to that rough sarcophagus towering there in front of him and he dreaded the moment of coming to terms with what was inside.
    He came out at one o’clock to have a sandwich and get a breath of fresh air. He lingered in the hopes that Francesca would turn up. He wanted her to be there when he opened the coffin. The carabinieri had a little camp stove for making coffee and Fabrizio joined them in a cup before going back in.
    The workers had already been to fetch the necessary equipment. They placed one wooden horse in front of and one behind the sarcophagus, set a beam across them and hung an electric winch connected to a power generator from the beam. The cable hanging from the winch ended with a ring, on to which four more cables were attached. Each of these ended in a specially shaped aluminium bracket, which was applied to one of the four corners of the lid.
    Fabrizio made sure there were no cracks in the stone and then, at exactly three fifteen, threw the switch that powered the winch at its slowest speed. The four steel cables pulled straight at the same moment and slowly lifted off the lid without making the slightest noise.
    At first the inside of the big coffin was so dark that Fabrizio couldn’t make out what it contained. But this time he got a good whiff of the scent of millennia: the smell of must and mould, of damp stone and dust. An indefinable odour whose diverse components had had all the time they needed to decompose and recombine a thousand times with the passage of the seasons, of the centuries. The work of ages, of heat and cold, and above all of silence.
    He switched on his torch and shone it inside. The contents emerged all at once from the dark, freezing the blood in his veins and cutting his breath short. He had expected to find an urn with the ashes of the deceased, along with all the usual objects that accompanied the funeral rites. What met his eyes instead was a scene of horror,