Chapter 33
Tanit
In her temple, Tanit's circle of flames burned low, as did her own energies. The
sound of weeping murmured around her walls. She had failed... she had not become...
her favored servants were dead... her master would be displeased. She had not heard
his whispers for days. Now, she was truly, utterly alone.
No longer could she stretch her senses outward to feel for him. She could barely
sense those above her. Their hatred had swelled, but they had not come back to her.
She did not have the strength to pull them back to her.
It was her own fault. She had underestimated the mortal... in her vanity, she had
wanted to toy with the Legacy's precept as revenge for what the Legatus had done to
her so long ago. She had allowed herself to wallow in the sublime fantasy of the
Legacy's champion being the means of her rebirth upon the world. She had forgotten
the Spartan proverb... Revenge is a dish best served cold.
How had he done it? How had this mortal beaten her? Two thousand years ago
the Legatus had tricked her to imprison her. She had been a fool and had
underestimated them as well, but they had done it by fraud and slight-of-hand... and
they had been many.... This one had done it by his own power. A single mortal man
had hurt her, had dispelled her illusions, had shoved her aside with his own mind... had
escaped her. "But not unscathed." She smiled.
Now she would have to begin again... hatred by hatred, fear by fear.
< < + > >
Legacy Base Camp
Beyond fatigue, Kym reached out to gently stroke her husband's damp hair.
Derek would never have any concept of how worried about him she had been. In
the desert's heat, without ice or even cold water, they had fought for hours to bring his
temperature back down to a hundred degrees, at which point he had begun to sweat
once more. All they had been able to do was wrap him in wet sheets, keep them wet,
fan him, and pray. They had all worn out their arms fanning. Even the three tribesmen
and the Egyptian pilot had taken turns.
Johnny himself had collapsed after about an hour, but the soldier had continued
to give directions from the other cot. Kym had sat, propping her husband up, trying to
pour saline solution into him a sip at a time, while he had flicked from
unconsciousness, to hallucination, to reality and back again. Carefully, she had
sponged his sunburned face and neck with a solution of water and baking soda.
"Next time," Johnny had sworn, "the goddamned medical kit contains an IV
setup with bags of saline and glucose."
In the coolness of early morning, Kym was nodding off, but the snap of canvas
startled her awake. A wind was picking up. She glanced at her watch as she rose to tie
the tent's flap... fifteen hours since they had found Derek and Johnny... and thrice that
since she had slept.
Derek stirred in his sleep. "Tanit," he groaned. "Tanit... no...."
Kym felt fear rise in her throat... she forced it down. "Derek... Derek," she
whispered, "baby... it's Kym." She brushed her fingers across his temple... still too
warm.
His eyes opened slowly. "Oh... Kym... hi...," he murmured as his vision cleared.
"Hi yourself," she said with incredible relief. "How do you feel?"
"So tired...," Derek mumbled. "Like boiled lobster." He paused to lick his lips...
his mouth was like cotton. "Lips hurt... hard to talk. How's Johnny?"
"He's fine," Kym replied... she'd wait to tell him about the death of the
"Huey's" pilot. She bent to pick up a cup of water that sat on the floor just under the
edge of the cot, and wished it was colder. "Here," she said, handing him two aspirin,
"take these... and drink this for me."
With his wife's help, Derek pushed himself up and took the metal cup with a
shaking hand. "Thanks," he whispered, then groaned as he put it to his lips. He was
in so much pain... he felt that he'd never smile again.
Kym steadied him, and gave his hand a squeeze as she took the water back. "I
know, baby... I know." Gently, she placed a rolled up blanket behind his shoulders.
"Derek... honey... you've got to take some soup too... OK?"
The precept groaned again as he settled back onto the makeshift pillow. He
didn't really want any soup, but he'd try for Kym. With a sigh, he nodded yes.
Once more his wife steadied his hand as he tried to take a sip... the soup ran
down his chin. "I'm sorry," Derek moaned. "No more... hurts too much."
"It's OK," she said softly as she blotted up the spill, then reached for a tube of
ointment. "Here... let me put some salve on." As her fingers cautiously ran over his
cracked and blistered lips, Kym couldn't believe that this was the same mouth that had
caressed her skin just two nights before. She wanted to weep for him, but held her
tears back. "Is that better?" she asked.
"Mmmm...." Derek's eyes were closed. "Johnny's OK? I'd have died without
him."
"Yes... yes... I'll have him canonized as soon as we get back home," Kym said
sarcastically. Instantly, she regretted the comment... she should be grateful to the major
for helping her husband.
The precept, however, appeared not to notice her bitterness. "You know, Kym,"
he said, feeling rather groggy. "She tried to be you... but she couldn't be you...
understand? She could look like you, but...."
Kym stared at her husband. "What's going on inside that little Derek-brain of
yours?" she mused aloud.
"Little Derek-brain?... Not much," he tried to laugh, but ended up groaning
instead. "Don't make me laugh," he pled. "It hurts."
"I'm sorry," Kym said. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"No," Derek whispered. "Just stay with me... I'm so cold... everything aches.
Help me get back to sleep... please, Liefje... I'm so tired."
Gently crawling onto the cot beside her husband, Kym felt it sag once more
beneath their weight. As carefully as possible, she pulled Derek close and began to
stroke his hair again. She remembered her mother's soothing, almost healing, touch
stoking away the hurts and fears of childhood. Kym felt the scab and the bump that
remained from his encounter with the tailgate... she was losing track of time. How
many days ago had that been? She counted back... five... only five. It seemed like
weeks. She felt Derek tremble as a chill coursed through his body. "I know," she
whispered. "Shhh... it's just fever from the sunburn and everything else.... Just listen
to my voice." The pretty redhead smiled as an idea occurred to her. "Once upon a
time, there lived a beautiful princess named Lilja...."
Derek opened his eyes. "Lilja?"
Kym shrugged. She came from a family which named innocent little children
Blaine and Keely. "Sure, why not?" she chuckled.
Derek closed his eyes again and absorbed the serenity of her touch. A tiny smile
came over his tender lips. "Only Ingrid ever told me stories."
Kym smiled. Delicately she circled his ear with her finger... hypnotically round
and round... quelling the fever and pain. I have to keep him calm and relaxed, she told
herself... so he can tell me more about Tanit and this mission. "You know... I tell the
best stories," she continued. "Just rest.... Lilja lived alone in a huge castle. She was so
lonely all the time. Every night she looked upon the same star and wished for
companionship. Lilja was a realist... Prince Charming wasn't coming, but there had to
be someone out there...." Kym glanced down to find Derek asleep in her arms.
He stirred. "No... Johnny," Derek moaned. "I have to go with them.... They're
so bright."
"No," said Kym, with a calmness she didn't feel. "You have to stay with me."
Derek heard her words, though he didn't hear his wife. "They're calling me. It's
so beautiful. Can't you hear them?"
Kym shook her head. "No... Derek, what are you talking about?"
"No!" he cried, his sleep suddenly changing. "You're not Kym... not Kym...."
The real Kym felt fear once more climbing in her throat. "What? Yes, I am... I'm
right here... baby. Derek?" Kym was relieved when her words seemed to calm him.
"Stay away! Stoephoer!" he suddenly mumbled.
At that moment, Kym felt something push her. That was the only way to
describe it... like a very small hand in the center of her chest pushing her away from
Derek. It's nerves, she decided and pulled her husband closer. He was growing restless
again. Gently she stroked his brow, purple from the gash above his eye... her fingertips
felt his absolute exhaustion... and something else she didn't recognize... something that
stood her hairs on end. What was that?
"Ssh," Kym whispered. "I don't know exactly what's going on, but I'm here
now... and I'll be here forever... and you're going to get out of here. We're going to
get out of here," she said firmly. "As soon as the helicopter's fixed we're getting on
it and going back to Cairo. Your job's done here."
Derek moaned softly.
Kym felt tears fill her eyes. "And then we'll go see your mother... and take that
trip to England that you were talking about," she continued. "I want to see where your
parents were married. And, Derek," Kym whispered as he stirred slightly. "I want us
to have a baby. I really do. I want to give you your son." Despite her best efforts, Kym
began to cry. She wanted Derek to be alive to see his son. "You'll be a wonderful
father... I'm sure. You can teach him to fence and to play the piano... and tease his
poor mother."
As he slept, Kym caressed her husband's face, dry and rough with stubble. "You
still have to finish teaching me Dutch, remember? We got distracted the first time."
"Kym...," Derek groaned. "Kym... no... too tired...."
With tears flowing freely now, Kym pulled his head to her chest. "I love you,
Derek," she told him. "Sleep, my prince." Suddenly, Horatio's farewell to the dead
Hamlet popped into her head with terrifying clarity... "Good night, sweet prince, and
flights of angels sing thee to thy rest." Where had that come from? She held him tightly
and willed her strength into him... she would give it all to him, if she could.
| CHAPTER 34 |
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