Heat

"We have to what?" Willow asked, eyes wide.

"Uh, well, if we want to make sure the knife doesn't fall into their hands," Rupert shrugged, trailing off and Wesley straightened himself to restate the obviously unpopular actions they'd have to take.

"We have to dig him up.  What's wrong?  You've taken artifacts from graves before, yes?"  Wesley looked from Willow to Buffy to Xander.  Oz seemed to have no particular opinion on this one way or the other, but he, too, was tense.

"Well, yeah," Willow said, shrugging and still looking very uncomfortable.  "But then it was more Buffy doing the opening the sarcophagus and grabbing whatever.  I mean, we actually have to dig him up?"

"Yes," Wesley said, shrugging.  "He was the leader of a demon horde, Willow.  A very bad man.  I hardly think we can disturb his spirit where it's gone."

Willow waved that away, shaking her head.  "No, it's . . . creepy.  I mean don't we want to kinda . . . I don't know--" she shrugged, but Xander jumped in.

"Maybe, keep the corpses in the ground."  Xander gestured toward the grave, shuddering just a bit.  "It just seems a little . . . wrong, to be take them out."

Wesley sighed, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, glad to see Rupert following suit.  The cairn wasn't anything fancy.  No mortar or anything like that.  It was, when it came down to it, a pile of loose rocks.

"If we are to keep this item out of their hands, and--" Rupert was saying.  He and Wesley both turned to the stones of the cairn and Wes was glad to see Buffy joining them.  "--considering the lengths to which they're prepared to go for it that seems a good idea, then we're going to have to dig him up."

It took a good half hour.  Xander joined in, then Oz, and finally Willow gave in and helped as well.  Rupert kept glancing at him, Wesley noticed.  In fact, the other man kept giving him such long looks that Wes was worried that the others would begin to notice.  Obviously, he couldn't say anything without drawing attention, so he settled for giving Rupert looks that would communicate his worries.

Finally, with the rocks cleared, they found a sarcophagus set into the hard packed sand and dirt.  Wesley snorted, shaking his head.  "You see?  It's still just a matter of opening the sarcophagus and grabbing the, er, 'whatever'."

Willow rolled her eyes at him, but Buffy was already reaching for the lid when Wesley spotted the writing along the edge.  "Wait," he and Rupert said together, sharing a glance, and Wesley had to force himself not to smile at the humor he saw on the other man's face.

"What?"  Buffy had stopped in mid-motion, body going still and tense.

"There's, uh, there's some writing and it's better if we decipher it before you stick your hands in there," Rupert said, nodding to the grave.

"Oh.  Well, okay.  Have fun."

Snorting, Wesley knelt to get a better look.  "I'm truly getting tired of this man.  I don't know who he was, but he needed some serious instruction on grammatical sentences.  One would think he was . . . oh, yes, he probably was writing in a language he wasn't completely familiar with."

"Odd, that," Rupert added from over his shoulder.

"Yes, it is."  Wes answered, eyes still locked on the inscription.  "Uh, well . . . beyond the general 'great and powerful', 'once and future ruler over tiny, insignificant humans', and the like, there's . . ."

"A warning," Rupert finished for him when Wesley became distracted by puzzling out the words.

"Well, not a warning exactly.  More, I think, a threat."  Wesley pushed his glasses further up his nose and then moved his finger to the words, tracing it along underneath them as he worked through it.  "Only one of strength of hand, of . . . heated?  Oh, burning.  Only one of strength of hand, of burning heart--whatever that means--and warrior's . . . er. . . . soldier's?  I suppose it doesn't make much difference, but the words themselves are different, so . . . soldier.  Soldier's . . . something.  Um . . . mind?  Discipline?  Mentality?  It could mean any of the three.  Shall break?  Breech.  Shall breech the tomb of the . . . King.  King?"  Wesley snorted at that, glancing up at Rupert.  He was delighted to find in his lover's eyes an echo of the same derision he felt for the writer.  "Sycophant," he muttered under his breath and saw Rupert's lips twitch in response.

"Uh, so . . . should I open it, or what?"  Buffy was leaning against one of the cavern walls, obviously bored, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Well, uh, I don't-don't know."  Wesley ducked his head, sighing.  The translating bit he knew, the rest . . . He glanced to Rupert, who was eyeing the sarcophagus.  Oddly, he got the feeling Rupert wasn't simply using his eyes, as if . . . a spell?  No, that was too orderly to describe what Wes thought Rupert was doing.  He glanced over to find Willow looking at Rupert much the same way he had been, though the speculation in her gaze was lit by a gleam of keen interest.

"Go ahead," Rupert said after a moment more.  "I don't believe it's booby-trapped, at least . . . uh, not the sarcophagus itself, though . . . be careful."  His voice was not wholly reassuring and Wesley moved closer to him, trying to be inconspicuous and yet offer Rupert his support at the same time.

Damn.  He simply hadn't anticipated how hard it would be, being close to Rupert and not able to touch him, or say the things he was thinking.  It felt . . . odd, which was, Wesley mused as he watched Buffy push aside the tomb's lid, even more odd.  He'd never been particularly tactile and yet now he found himself wishing he could reach out, just to brush his hand over Rupert's or . . .

"Whoa."  Buffy's voice forced him to once again concentrate on the moment.  Buffy had pushed the lid toward the side of the grave on which he and Rupert stood.  The two of them had to step closer in order to see what she was 'whoa-ing' about.

The skeleton itself was interesting.  Large, oddly shaped in places, holding up far too well for the amount of time it had to have been down there.  Stranger still was the blade.  It was just as had been described, so it wasn't its appearance that startled him, but rather its placement.

"It's stuck in his ribs," Buffy commented, looking between Rupert and himself, as if she expected one of them to explain why it looked as if the demon had been killed with his own knife.