(no subject)
The period of mourning had been long, the grief immense. Blood had been shed, treasure amassed and finally the grave was prepared. Into it was lowered the sarcophagus, costly items where piled upon and around it then the timbers were placed, the stone covering slid across.
The working party legged it at a shout from upstream, splashing and slipping in the churned mud and gravel of the river bottom. They scrambled up the bank and nodded with satisfaction as a wave of muddy water crashed over the site of the tomb, obliterating all trace of it.
They were a little less cheerful when their queen, Ildico - queen for about ten minutes though she SWORE the marriage had been comsumated in that time - ordered their deaths so they couldn't tell anyone where it was either.
Meanwhile the man himself was looking for a way out. The water was flooding in and while it couldn't actually drown him - being dead - he had no intention of staying there with no company but that of his own rotting carcass. The door, when he found it, came as both a relief and a frustration - they didn't have knobs way back when.