Chapter Twenty-Nine: Life and Death

 

 

***

 

Ardeth fluttered his eyes closed for the briefest of moments as the army of Anubis continued to form in front of him.  Within moments, he knew, they would be charging towards him.  He took a deep breath, mentally readying himself.  This was the culminating moment of three thousand years of turbulent history.  Everything had led him up to this single moment.

 

His destiny was here.  Ardeth opened his eyes.  Whatever happened, he had done all that he could.

 

Rick and Jonathan were already gone, on their mission to get inside the palace.  With Adil on one side of him and Rashid on the other, Ardeth felt the Med Jai spirit flow through him.  He was ready.

 

Behind and to the right of him stood Anjelica.  With Rick gone, she found herself suddenly quite alone.  Turning from the horrific sight before her, and knowing she only had a few moments, she looked at the young man standing next to her.

 

“I’m Anjelica,” she said, knowing that in just a few moments they would be fighting for their lives.

 

“Hubert,” he replied.

 

He turned his face towards her and Anjelica realized with a start how young he was.  She looked over him briefly, assessing him.  “How did you get here?” she asked, clutching tightly to the hilt of her blade.

 

“I was sent.  By the resistence movement.  With Jonathan Carnahan.”  He stuttered briefly, betraying his nervousness.  He looked up at her, suddenly having the urge to confess to her.  “I’ve never fought in a battle before.”

 

Pity surged through her.  She had experience and skill on her side, he did not.  But what could she say, really, to comfort him?  “I’m here.  We’re all here, fighting with you.”

 

He shivered and looked down.

 

Anjelica thought a moment.  She had never been the motherly, comforting type, so she repeated to him the only phrase that had ever consoled her.  “Do not be afraid of your destiny.”

 

He looked up at her, startled, and for a moment it seemed that the fear left his eyes.

 

“ATTACK!”

 

They both froze as the unmistakable sound of a battle cry reverberated in their ears.  It was an inhuman voice, a sound that shivered through Anjelica’s entire body.  It was a voice of death.

 

Anjelica swung her head around, looking straight into the Army of Anubis.  The jackal-headed warriors growled and brandished their swords, tensing for attack.  The very world paused, trembling, on the precipice of the ultimate battle.

 

She suddenly realized that she was looking at the very face of the underworld.

 

And then the moment fell.  Perfectly synchronized, the entire jackal army of thousands began running at top speed towards the Med Jai.

 

Hubert took a deep breath, his sweaty palms clasping desperately to his weapon.  Anjelica ripped her eyes away from the horrifying sight, trying in one last agonizing second to meet Hubert’s eyes.  Near her, she heard Ardeth scream “Steady!” but the sound was drowned out in the pounding of thousands of feet against desert sand.

 

“Do not be afraid!” Anjelica shouted to Hubert as the jackals neared, each cruelly baring its teeth.

 

In unison, the Med Jai army all drew their weapons.  The sound of thousands of blades whipping through the stormy air made Anjelica feel strong.  The blades gleamed in the flashes of lightening that jerked against the gray sky.

 

The desert pounded beneath them as the jackals neared, inhuman sounds emanating from their decayed bodies.  The entire live army tensed and readied themselves.  Now they were beyond fear.  The time for judgement had come.

 

As the army of the jackal-headed God came close enough to kill, Anjelica could see the hollow cruelty glittering in their eyes.

 

 

***

 

 

The two sides clashed just a quarter of a mile from the palace.  Imhotep stood watching dispassionately from his balcony.  All was going to plan.

 

Behind him was the great hall, the hall that led to his massive throne room.  He could hear his soldier mummies come running through the empty chamber, their decayed feet pounding on the marble as they rushed to defend their master.

 

Oh yes, he had thought of everything.

 

The six mummies, golden blades in oozing hands, surrounded Imhotep.  They stood sternly, silent and still, waiting to protect him from anyone that might come.  Pleased at their timely entrance, Imhotep continued to watch the battle unfold beneath him.  A cruel smile played across his face.

 

Anubis’ army was doing their duty well.  Man after man fell to the earth without so much as a cry.  The jackals cut through the army like farmers at harvest time.

 

 

***

 

 

Evy flew into the room, her long wavy hair streaming out behind her.  She slid on the marble floor, her body coming to a stop just inside the large chamber.  Her eyes swept the room in the search for the Book of the Living.

 

Her sweeping gaze stopped, locking suddenly on the desk.  The book still sat on the mahogany wood, gleaming softly in the light.  But her entire body tensed, sensing what she had not yet seen with her eyes.

 

Her eyes slowly flicked up, and when they came to rest on the figure standing by the desk Evy gasped.

 

Anck-su-namun stood quietly by the book.  She stood, silent and still, as though she had been waiting for Evy to arrive, as though she had planned out this final confrontation.  Slowly, deliberately, her hand trailed over the book’s gold cover.

 

Evy stood near the doorway, breathing hard, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight in front of her.

 

The two of them stood there in silence.

 

Evy slowly realized that Anck-su-namun was clothed in her ceremonial robes–the robes of a queen.  Evy had never seen her bedecked in all of her glory.

 

The shimmering, priceless material was draped over her shoulders, precious stones woven into the glimmer of the golden fabric.  The gown hung, the diaphanous material swept around her slender form.  She wore a golden torque about her neck, flecked with rubies.

 

Evy allowed her gaze to flicker upwards, where her eyes caught at the jeweled crown resting on her black hair.  The diamonds and emeralds sparkled in the torchlight.

 

But as Evy finally rested her eyes on Anck-su-namun’s face, she realized just how tormented the queen was.  Her face shone dimly in the flickering light and Evy could see that she had been crying.  Sympathy surged through her.

 

But the former concubine straightened and tilted her head.  Evy could see that Anck-su-namun did not want her sympathy, nor her pity.  She stood before her as Imhotep’s bride, as his love, robed and crowned as queen of the world.  From somewhere came a flicker of a memory, a shadow...and Evy knew that once, long ago, she had stood at Rameses side, robed and jeweled and crowned...

 

...as Anck-su-namun now was.

 

Their roles were once again reversed.  They had each been a slave and each a queen, but they had never fought on the same side of a battlefield.  Were they the opposite sides of the same coin?  Did their souls, in some way, mirror each other?  Were their destinies eternally bound and twisted together?

 

And then the former concubine looked at Evy coldly, and Evy heard the unspoken words slice through the air.  Now I am queen of this land. 

 

Evy’s breath caught in her throat.

 

Finally the queen spoke aloud.  Her eyes hardened as they trained on Evy’s.  Her hand possessively stroked the gold cover of the Book of the Living. 

 

“Looking for this?”

 

Anck-su-namun’s question echoed in the chamber.

 

 

***

 

 

Rick and Jonathan snuck into the palace through a side door.  All of the palace guards had either fled from their posts or had retreated further inside.  Whichever the case, Rick and Jonathan slipped easily inside.  Following the dim hallway, the two men suddenly came to a flight of stairs.

 

Shrugging, Rick began climbing.  He wondered how Ardeth and Anjelica and the rest of the Med Jai were faring outside.  He looked over his shoulder and could see Jonathan’s worried face reflecting his exact thoughts.

 

“I’ve missed you,” Rick said suddenly, his words echoing in the empty stairwell.  He paused and looked down at his brother-in-law.

 

“I came halfway around the world to rescue you, you know,” Jonathan said, a slight grin slipping onto his face.  “I guess I missed you too.”

 

Rick paused for a moment, looking at Jonathan, and a rush of tenderness surged through him.  “You know, I–” he had never been very good at explaining his feelings.  In fact, he wasn’t sure exactly what his feelings were.  He tried again.

 

“I heard from Adil about you finding the black book and bringing it to the Med Jai.  I always knew that you could do it, but you–” Rick sighed, running his hand through his blond hair.  “What I’m trying to say is that I’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for me, for Evy, for everyone.”

 

Jonathan just smiled.  He finally had the complete respect of his best friend.  That was enough.  “Rick, old boy,” he replied, shaking his head slightly, “we’re even.”

 

 

***

 

 

Imhotep turned away from the railing of his golden balcony, ceasing to watch the scene below him.  He had no need to worry about the battle outside.  He had the army of a God.  There was no way Anubis would allow his warriors to suffer defeat.

 

Imhotep strode from the balcony through the main hallway, his six soldier mummies close behind.  He was heading for his throne room.  Past the throne room were his chambers, and in his chambers was the gold book.

 

 

***

 

 

The battle on the desert sands was going on in full force.  A few of the dead had managed to make it past the slashing army of Anubis.  They were now making their way slowly towards the palace.  It wasn’t much, but it gave Ardeth comfort.  A small trickle of water was running over the top of the dam.

 

Ardeth looked to his side just in time as a jackal neared him, growling, its black teeth glinting hideously.  Ardeth quickly ducked its blow then sliced upwards, through the warrior’s neck, and the jackal disintegrated into air.  He wiped his forehead, sweat pouring off of his body.

 

From his vantage point it was very difficult to tell whether they were winning or losing.  The battle appeared to be even.  But even as he tried to tell how the Med Jai were faring Ardeth knew that it was a meaningless gauge.  It was impossible to tell who was winning because the real battle was taking place inside the palace.  Whoever found and kept possession of the gold book would win the day.

 

But, as they had all hoped, the jackals were preoccupied with the army of dead.  The dead marched stiffly, weapon-less and sightless, and the army of Anubis was taking great pleasure in cutting them down.  The dead were mowed down easily.  But their numbers were so large they just kept coming and coming.

Ardeth took a deep breath as men and beasts fought all around him, allowing himself a small smile of satisfaction.  As a distraction, the army of dead were serving their purpose quite well.  They made it much easier for the Med Jai to kill the Anubis warriors.  And, most importantly, it freed Ardeth.  He no longer had to stay with his people and fight on the desert sands.  Distracted, the Anubis warriors wouldn’t even notice when he left.

 

The time had come.

 

Ardeth looked up, his eyes taking in the distant palace.  As if on cue he felt Adil come and stand by his side.  Without looking at his friend, Ardeth jerked his head towards the immense golden structure, dimmed in the gray light.  “That is where we are needed now.”

 

He met the younger man’s eyes.  A shared nod of purpose, and the two were off, running towards the palace.

 

 

***

 

 

Pierre watched with satisfaction as the Anubis warrior in front of him burst into sand.  It was extremely satisfying to watch them die, he reflected, except for the annoying mini sand storms they created.  He blinked as another gust of sand flew into his eyes and cursed loudly, several times.

 

He looked around, noticing that the Med Jai warriors didn’t seem to be too bothered by it.  Pierre sighed, wishing that he could use the gun in his holster, even though he knew the bullets would go right through the sandy beasts.

 

Turning to his side, he caught sight of Ardeth, standing still with Adil.  In unison the two began running towards the palace.  Pierre grinned.  Now they were getting down to business.  Without a second thought Pierre began running after them.

 

 

***

 

 

Jonathan and Rick snuck through a side corridor, attempting to be as silent as their surroundings.  Ahead Rick could see the main hall, the grand throne room.  But the place was utterly empty.

 

They moved stealthily through the side corridor, coming up on a side door to the grand hall.  But where was everyone?  Rick could hear his own heart beating, could hear every ragged breath he drew in this tomb-like place.

 

He threw a glance at Jonathan over his shoulder, and the two men shared a shrug.  Neither of them had ever been in this huge palace before.  They were going on instinct alone.

Suddenly, Rick heard a voice, echoing in the large halls.  He crouched quickly, concealing his body behind the doorway.  He knew without a doubt who had made that sound.  Imhotep.

 

Coming towards him.

 

“Jonathan!” Rick whispered urgently, taking a quick look around to get his bearings.  “Get Evy and keep her safe.  Take the key and find the gold book!”

 

Jonathan crouched behind Rick, sweating profusely.  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

 

Rick took a deep breath.  He knew what his role in all of this was.  “Distract Imhotep.”

 

Jonathan nodded.  He placed a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder.  “Good luck old chum.”  He rose from his crouch and started moving quickly back down the corridor, towards where he assumed the sleeping quarters were.  As he left to find Evy, he heard the unmistakable sounds of mummies, swords clanging at their sides, striding through the main hall.

 

Jonathan quickened his pace.

 

 

***

 

 

Rick waited for just the right moment.

 

Springing from the doorway, he jumped right in front of Imhotep.  The Pharaoh drew back, a glint of surprise flashing through his dark eyes.  Rick sneered at his mummy guards as they drew their weapons and snarled.

 

Rick looked right into Imhotep’s inhuman eyes, issuing the challenge.  “We have some unfinished business.”

 

Imhotep regarded Rick coldly, his surprise gone as quickly as it had come.  His voice dripped with disdain.  “I see you have escaped, Med Jai dog.  Have you come to collect your wife?”

 

Relief surged through Rick’s exhausted body.  So Evy was alive!  That knowledge gave him more strength than he ever thought he had.

 

“Among other things.”  Rick’s eyes locked with Imhotep’s.

 

“Stand down,” Imhotep commanded calmly, and the six mummified guards slowly lowered their swords, gnashing their teeth impotently.  “This is between Menmet and I.”

 

Imhotep strode forward, leaving his protectors behind him.  The two men stood in the middle of the huge throne room.  They silently regarded each other.  Three millennia, a thousand emotions, blood oaths, and betrayals stood between them.

 

Rick suddenly felt that there was no one else in the room except for the two of them.  The pair of steely blue eyes met the cold brown ones.  They bored into each other in the deathly silence.  Finally, Rick spoke, drawing his sword.  “No special powers, Imhotep.  Fight me like a man, like the man you were.”

 

Imhotep considered.  “We’ve fought like that before.”

 

“Yeah,” Rick replied, “but we were interrupted by your old friend the Scorpion King.”

 

A sinister grin spread across Imhotep’s face.  “You were losing that fight, if I recall correctly.”

 

“Maybe.”  Rick smiled.  “But we won the war.”

 

Imhotep’s expression darkened, remembering how he had lost possession of the army of the Scorpion King.  Hatred and vengeance surged through his three thousand year old body.

 

Rick smiled, seeing Imhotep’s frustration.  “Feel like a rematch?”  Rick twirled the sword in his hand, then pointed it down, waiting for Imhotep’s decision.

 

“Done,” he answered finally.  His former defeat momentarily forgotten, the corners of Imhotep’s mouth turned up with dark pleasure.  “Sword,” he commanded, and one of his mummies stepped forward, handing him a golden sword.

 

Looking down, in the glint of his blade, Rick could see his own reflection.  He tightened his grip.  This was to be the hardest fight of his life.

 

 

***

 

 

Away from Imhotep and Rick, Jonathan finally allowed himself to shout Evy’s name aloud.  He ran down the silent corridors, his footsteps echoing on the marble.  “Evy!”  He called her name again, his breath coming in ragged gasps in the empty hallways.  “Evy!” 

 

Where would she be? Jonathan considered frantically as he skidded to a halt, looking into a large ball room.  Like Imhotep was having a lot of balls, Jonathan thought sarcastically.

 

If he was Evy where would he be?  Well, to be honest, he’d probably be hiding.  Well, to be honest, he would say he was going to hide while actually running around attempting to help while falling down a lot and being largely ineffectual.

 

Jonathan stopped, aggravated at his lack of faith in himself.  This is what you always do when you’re nervous, he scolded himself, darting into another massive chamber.

No Evy.  Where was that girl?  Knowing his sister, he figured that the very first thing she would do would be find the gold book, and he had assumed that Imhotep would hide the gold book somewhere in his chambers.

 

But where the hell were his chambers?  This palace was huge.  There weren’t exactly sign posts.  Jonathan took a deep breath and kept running.  “Evy!”

 

 

***

 

 

Evy took a deep breath.  She still stood just inside the doorway, her eyes locked with Anck-su-namun’s.  The room was deathly silent.

 

“Anck-su-namun.”

 

The queen stared coolly back.  “Nefertiri.”

 

Evy looked into her face closely, and could see tension in the smooth lines of her jaw.  This was a front, an elaborate act.  Anck-su-namun was cracking, and she didn’t want Evy to know.

 

Evy took a step forward, not breaking eye contact for a second.  Her voice was low, and her words were nothing short of a command.  “Give me the book.”

 

A flicker of surprise crossed the queen’s face, surprise at Evy’s boldness.  In response she carefully lifted the book up, hugging it to her chest.  Her tense fingers wrapped around the gleaming cover.  “No.”

 

Evy took a deep breath, then slowly took another step forward.  Her tone was soft and non-threatening, but her words carried icy steel.  “Stop defending him.”  Her eyes flickered to the gold book in the queen’s arms.  “Give it to me.”

 

Anck-su-namun looked back at her, and Evy could see her calm exterior melting away.  Her desperation and fear and love for Imhotep shone from her features, and Evy almost had to look away from the pain in her eyes.

 

“I can’t,” Anck-su-namun whispered.

 

“Anck-su-namun, give me the book.”  Evy spoke calmly but forcefully, taking another small step towards her.

 

“I will not!” Anck-su-namun cried, her words echoing in the empty chamber.  Her eyes were wet but she gripped the book tightly to her chest.

 

Evy stopped, unsure of what to do.  She had to take the book away and defeat Imhotep, but she understood Anck-su-namun’s pain, perhaps too well.  In the silence of the chamber Evy’s mind roved over her long and complex relationship with the former concubine.  She wished that things could have been different, that they had been friends, that the pain and sorrow had never happened.  But it had.

 

There was no denying the past.  And here was the chance for Evy to be reunited with her family, to kill Imhotep and end his tyranny.  There was no going back now.  Imhotep had to fall.  And she would do everything in her power to make it happen.

 

But her heart broke for Anck-su-namun, who loved Imhotep and would never betray him.  Evy felt nothing for the queen but pity.

 

And she still to complete her destiny.

 

“Anck-su-namun, give me the book.”

 

“No,” Anck-su-namun whispered, taking a small step backwards.

 

Evy took a deep breath, not knowing how she could explain what she had to do.  “Imhotep’s time has come.  It is over.  Give me the book.”

 

And Anck-su-namun made her decision.  Her pain and turmoil were evident.  But her words, too, carried icy steel.  She, like Evy, would not back down.  “No, Nefertiri.  I will not betray him.”

 

The two women looked at each other across the marble chamber.  And perhaps, finally, for the first time in three millennia, they truly understood each other.

 

The queen placed the book down gently on the table.  Leaving it, she walked over to one of the golden statues.  From the statue’s arms she pulled out two golden sais, the sharp weapons slicing through the air.  Anck-su-namun tossed the two gleaming, familiar weapons to Evy.

 

Evy caught them easily, twirling them in her hands.  Had they ever been apart?

 

Anck-su-namun slowly removed her crown and laid it on the gleaming wood desk.  Untying the string of her ceremonial robes, she allowed them to fall at her feet.  She was wearing a simple shift underneath...comfortable clothing.  Clothing to wear in a fight.  Evy’s mouth dropped open soundlessly as she realized just how fully the former concubine had planned this final confrontation.

 

To complete her transformation, Anck-su-namun pulled out her own golden weapons, holding them comfortably in her bronzed hands.  “Just as in the old days, Nefertiri?”

 

“Anck-su-namun,” Evy began slowly, choosing her words carefully.  “Imhotep is not the man you loved in Ancient times.  He is the creature now.  You have no obligation to evil you did not create.”

“Do not say that!” Anck-su-namun lunged at Evy, aiming her blade at Evy’s throat.  Quickly parrying the blow Evy took a step back, tensed and ready.  The two squared off, circling each other uneasily.

 

So the queen and the slave, and the slave and the queen, began their final battle.

 

 

***

 

 

Ardeth and Adil quickly slipped in through the same entrance Rick and Jonathan had used.  They moved quietly and stealthily along the corridor, going on nothing but instinct.  Just as they reached the empty stairs, they heard a voice.  The two men tensed, listening.  A familiar voice.  Turning, Ardeth saw Pierre, breathing heavily, turn the corner of the hallway.

 

“There you two are!” Pierre said, grinning, slowing as he approached the two Med Jai.  “I thought you could use a little help.”

 

Ardeth rolled his eyes, relaxing slightly, not unhappy to see the muscular Frenchman.  “Come on.  We have no time to lose.”  Following in silence, Pierre and Adil quickly fell into step behind Ardeth as the chieftain led the way up the stairs.

 

As they reached the second floor they immediately heard more voices.  Ardeth tensed at the top, listening, making Adil and Pierre wait behind him as he assessed the nature of the sounds.  “Imhotep.  And O’Connell.”  Ardeth hesitated, listening carefully.  “Fighting.”

 

The three men shared a quick glance as Adil shrugged.  “Let’s move.”

 

They snuck down the side corridor, the sounds of slashing swords and angry voices amplifying in the huge throne room as they moved closer.  Stopping by the doorway just off the throne room, they peered out from the shadows, watching as Rick and Imhotep battled.  They also noticed the six soldier mummies standing, their hands on their swords, also watching Imhotep’s fight.

 

Imhotep swiped and Rick stumbled back, just dodging a potentially fatal blow.  Pierre bristled and started to move from their hiding place.  “I’ll help him fight that monster–”

 

But Ardeth quickly grabbed his arm, stopping him.  “No.  That is not your battle.  It is only O’Connell’s to fight.”

 

Pierre looked at him as though he were mad.  “But we can help him–”

 

“No, my friend,” Ardeth insisted, resting his hand on Pierre’s shoulder.  “That is not your place, nor your role in this fight.”  Ardeth paused, quickly considering their options.  “Get Jonathan and help him and Evy find and protect the gold book.”

 

“And leave you two here alone?  You must be joking.”  Pierre licked his lips, his face streaked with sand and grime.

 

Ardeth smiled grimly.  “You must.  Imhotep will die only if we read from the gold book.”

 

“But–”

 

“No.  Our lives do not matter.  Only the book matters.”  Ardeth looked into Pierre’s eyes, and slowly the Frenchman closed his mouth.  Something in Ardeth’s words seemed to have struck him because Pierre slowly nodded.  With one last look at Ardeth and Adil, Pierre turned and stole back down the hallway, searching for Jonathan.

 

Adil and Ardeth looked at each other.  Nodding in unison, the two warriors sprung out from behind the wall.  Sensing new blood, the six soldier mummies turned towards the Med Jai, immediately tensing their rotted bodies and growing furiously.

 

Imhotep used the distraction to take a swipe at Rick, which he narrowly dodged.  On the defensive, Rick backtracked, twirling the blade in his hand.

 

His eyes locked on the face of his enemy, Imhotep gave his command.  “Kill the Med Jai.  Menmet is still mine.”

 

 

***

 

 

Growling with pleasure, the soldier mummies drew their swords and advanced on Ardeth and Adil.  The two Med Jai stood, their backs together, as the mummies formed a circle around them.  There was no way either of them was getting away alive unless they killed all six of the undead creatures.

 

“Do not be afraid, my brother,” Ardeth insisted as the creatures neared, taking their sweet time.

 

“No need to worry,” Adil replied, his young face hardened and ready for battle.  “I’ve been waiting for this pleasure for some time.”

 

Ardeth smiled inwardly.  With a Med Jai battle cry, both men simultaneously attacked.  Within moments the prone body of a soldier mummy lay on the marble floor.  But five still came for them, growling and attacking and baying for human blood.

 

 

***

 

 

Imhotep completely ignored the other fight, focusing his inhuman eyes solely on his nemesis.  “I’m not through with you,” he rumbled menacingly, stepping towards Rick and slicing his blade through the air.

 

“Did I say you could leave?” Rick growled back.

 

Ready, Rick deflected Imhotep’s first thrust, quickly counterattacking and driving Imhotep back across the marble hall.  Their blades danced in the air, slicing and clanging as the two expert swordsmen battled.  The fight was dead even. 

 

Anger made Rick strong.  He knew his job was to distract and contain Imhotep so Jonathan and Evy could find the gold book and make him mortal.  So he played with Imhotep, attacking and then retreating, never exposing too much of himself.

 

But he knew he couldn’t last like this forever.

 

 

***

 

 

Below, in the desert sands, the battle continued.

 

The Med Jai were clashing furiously with the Anubis warriors.  One side was fighting coldly and mechanically.  But the attacking side was fighting frantically and desperately for survival.  The jackal’s continued to cut down the army of the dead easily.  But still they came, walking stiffly towards the palace, a river of the walking dead.

 

They so greatly outnumbered the army of Anubis, that despite their complete lack of ability to defend themselves, many still managed to get past the jackals and make their way towards the palace.

 

Anjelica had killed more jackals than she could count.  Every time she felled an Anubis warrior another flew into her face, snarling for her blood.  She thrust forcefully towards her current opponent only to be blocked by the jackal’s curved blade.  She tried again, slicing her scimitar toward’s the creature’s neck.  But the animal was quicker than it looked, dodging her thrust with grace and swiping its own weapon dangerously close to her chest.

 

Taking a quick step back, Anjelica let the jackal over commit.  Growling, the beast aimed for her head.  Ducking and spinning to the side, she sunk her blade deep into the creature’s neck.  With a final agonized wail, the jackal burst apart into dust.

 

Breathing heavily, Anjelica looked up at the palace.  She wiped dust out of her eyes as she quickly considered her options.  Should she go and help Rick?  She knew that it wasn’t her fight, and yet she so badly wanted to be of some use.  She was torn and stood tensed with indecision.

 

She knew that the real battle was taking place up there, where no one could see who was truly winning.  It mattered not who won the battle on the sands.  If Imhotep could be made mortal, it would all be over.

 

A cry of pain from behind her interrupted her thoughts.  Something in the voice sounded vaguely familiar, and she turned, seeking out the cause of the anguished sound.

 

When she saw who had cried out her heart thumped painfully.  The owner of the voice was the young man–Hubert–the young man she had attempted to comfort.  She looked, seeing only his face, twisted with agony.

 

And then she looked lower.  Her eyes caught the gleaming sword protruding cruelly from his chest.

 

He had been run through from behind.  Anjelica blinked, felt the world slow around her.  For a full second, an entire agonizing moment, Anjelica felt all the pain and fury and desperation of the world course through her.  He was so young, he did not deserve to die–

 

He fell.  He fell to his knees, then slumped onto the ground, falling heavily on his side.  His hands feebly attempted to wrap around the sharp blade jutting out of his body.  Moaning, he groped at his chest, bright blood surging up from the wound.  Blood rapidly seeped through his clothes, dripping off onto the desert sand.

 

Anjelica looked away, searching frantically for the jackal who had done this, but he had already disappeared.  Her urge was to avenge his death, to fight and kill.  But she looked down and she realized that Hubert did not need an avenger.  He needed someone to hold him as he died.

 

She had never been much good at that sort of thing.  She moved to his fallen form and knelt by his head.  He looked up into her eyes, desperate, sad, utterly alone, and Anjelica felt a strange sensation come over her.  This young man could have been her brother, could have been her own son...they were both alone in this world, they were foreigners, they were fighting an ancient battle that was not their own...

 

Anjelica pulled his head into her lap, cradling him.  She wiped his hair out of his eyes.  Some destiny had led both of them to this battlefield, to this forsaken corner of the world...

 

He gasped, blood filling his lungs, looking up into her face.  His time was short.  Anjelica knew it, and she would not lie to him.  She looked back.

 

And he knew it too.  Their brown eyes met in a moment of painful recognition.

 

Unable to speak or move, he just looked at her, his eyes probing her own.  She looked back, not knowing what to say, not knowing how to comfort him.  He looked desperately into Anjelica’s eyes, begging for an answer, an explanation, a reason for all of this madness.

 

He looked into Anjelica’s eyes as men look to their mothers for comfort, as men look to the great Goddess before the end.

 

But she had no answer for him.

 

She wiped his forehead and held him close.  But from somewhere, words came to her.  She did not know if the words were her own or if they were the words of the Gods.  And she knew not then whether they were even the truth.  But she whispered the words, in comfort, in tenderness...in love.

 

“You fought for freedom, for the future of humanity to live on this earth.  And for that cause, you have given your greatest gift.  We will prevail.”

 

She smiled gently, blinking away the dampness in her eyes, and kissed his forehead.  Her lips gently touched his brow in blessing.  “Now go to your God in peace, and be safe.”  And at her words he took a last shuddering, painful breath.  And then the life left his eyes.

 

From somewhere, a thought permeated her being.  “Blood is the ultimate sacrifice, and sometimes only it will slake our need...”

 

She gently closed his eyelids, whispering the words she had long forgotten, the last rites intoned by the Bishop at her mother’s death, the few, spiritual words that would speed a soul home.

 

She rose, laying Hubert’s head on the sand as the battle raged around her.  Later, reflecting on those few moments, she would wonder how she had been able to lay Hubert to rest, how sitting there on the ground with no weapon she had survived.  She would never know why she was spared.

 

She looked up toward the glittering palace, dirt streaked across her face.  She had faced death.  Now it was time to ensure life.  She took off at a running speed toward the palace.

 

 

***