Title:  Passion - Chapter Seventeen – Faith

Author: Angela - [email protected] - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction
Summary:  Something’s bothering Ardeth.  Of course it’s never as simple as that.
Disclaimer:  No infringement intended.  I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.
Prequel (which should be read to get this):  http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1
Codes:  Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy

*

Imhotep crept on silent feet towards the building Ardeth had cited in his little note.  The sliver of moon was a blessing, for the shadows were deep and darker than should the moon have been whole.  He held the gun ready in case of need, but managed to keep his cool enough as not to shoot without wisdom, though his heart greatly desired to vent its frustration.

Kidnapped by her own friend, dragged off to Hamunaptra to wait to see if her faith in him failed!  He most certainly would not fail, but that did not mean Imhotep was going to easily let the Med-Jai get away with his little scheme.  What Ancksunamun was planning was utter insanity.  Even what they had done in the name of their false love had been insane, he knew, now that he could reflect upon it with clarity of mind.  But to become a god?  Was she mad?

‘Not bloody likely’ was a phrase Jonathan had taught him and he would enjoy saying it to Ancksunamun when she asked him to aid her little plot.  Imhotep snorted in contempt and stalked on, casting the weeping stars a mournful glance.  If Nefertiri suffered at the hands of the Med-Jai, he was going to let loose his full rage.

What she was suggesting Imhotep was not even certain could be done.  He had never been taught any such thing as humans becoming gods.  Just what she expected him to teach her, he wasn’t certain, but if Nefertiri suffered even a glare because of his ignorance he would torment Ancksunamun to no end.

The house of a Med-Jai named Ali was his destination.  Inside the home he would find the Book of Amun Ra and likely a very watchful Med-Jai who would kill him given the chance.  Ardeth had warned him not to try talking his way through this, had said he suspected the Med-Jai were possibly looking to end his life—something about what someone had said while he had spirited the Book of the Dead away, so Imhotep was not to trust any Med-Jai.  Imhotep grunted his opinion on that.  As if he would ever trust a Med-Jai!  Ardeth Bay had been the only one who had proven himself worthy of that and even his own motives were now in question.

Someone walked ahead and the priest shoved his hands into his pockets.  It looked to be a lawman.  Imhotep kept his eyes focused on the ground, conscious that if he were questioned he would not be able to answer.  As it was the stranger only nodded in acknowledgement of his presence and Imhotep returned the gesture in relief.

Reaching the housing area of Cairo, the Priest of Osiris kept to his dark purpose and looked at various street signs and house numbers, seeking that which matched the ones Bay had written in his letter.  If he had stolen Nefertiri, could he have not stolen the book as well?  Perhaps he feared taking that chance, being spotted and stopped.  Whatever the case, Imhotep felt churlish about it.  He was accustomed to sneaking around—had done it with Nefertiri and then with Ancksunamun, so he was confident he could pull this off, but the whole sum of these troubles bothered him.

He did not know what conversations were taking place between Nefertiri and her old friend, but Imhotep held very little doubt that it was causing her pain.  Her pain was his pain and there would be more to be had by the end of this.

The house was of a medium build, dark both within and out.  The priest looked on it with caution, knowing it may well be watched from any number of sources.  Ali was not the only Med-Jai wandering Cairo.  Steeling himself, Imhotep opened the steel gate beside the residence and made for the back yard, hoping to obscure his doings from wandering eyes.

The back door was locked—naturally, and Imhotep frowned.  He had nothing to pick the lock, nor could he merely shoot it open.  The windows were unbarred, but the Med-Jai within would hear if he broke one.  This was one of those times when reality slapped him in the face with his own mortality.  If only it were as simple as turning to dust!  His mind traveled back to the night he had slipped past the lock to Nefertiri’s bedroom.  Even then he had not been able to stop himself from revisiting her mouth, though his heart had beat for Ancksunamun.  She had been so frightened of him that night.  He sighed.

Stealth was not an option.  Imhotep frowned, removed the gun from his pocket and looked at the window.  He would simply have to overcome whoever was within those walls.  Darting glances around the night-filled yards on either side, the priest shrugged in satisfaction, lifted the gun and slammed it into the window.  Unfortunately his arm followed, slicing his skin from his knuckles to beyond his wrist.  Imhotep cursed and eased his bleeding arm from the broken glass, then forced himself to forget the pain.

He unlocked the window and climbed in, trying to do it quietly and quickly.  The entire home was dark, but he could hear rustling upstairs.  Imhotep crept from the kitchen into the living room and waited at the foot of the stairs.  The rustling stopped and for long moments he considered that perhaps the Med-Jai had taken his security for granted and gone back to bed, but a small creak—so light he questioned whether he had heard it at all, convinced him otherwise.  He backed and crouched, holding the gun steady.

The stairs were being descended upon slowly and tentatively.  Imhotep held his breath, not liking the fear that came with mortality.  If he failed Nefertiri would pay.

A figure appeared at the bottom of the stairs, standing ready with a scimitar displayed in the scant light coming from outside.  Still, Imhotep waited, wondering if there were any more.  The shadow moved and began searching with eyes and ears.  There were no other sounds from upstairs.  It was now or never.  Imhotep leapt up, wrapped his arms around the Med-Jai and shoved the gun to his temple, asking in his own tongue, “Where is the Book of Amun Ra?”

The Med-Jai stayed still, knowing his life hung in the balance as long as that gun was aimed at him.  His reply was not in Egyptian or English and Imhotep groaned in frustration.  He tried again in Hebrew and received the same result.  “You are of no use to me,” he said, fingering the trigger, ready to kill this Med-Jai for wasting his time.  But the sound of a gun would draw far too much attention.  The scimitar met Imhotep’s eyes and he opted to use it.

The Med-Jai named Ali struggled for a moment as Imhotep wrenched the blade from his fingers, very nearly bested by this other man, but in the end he won.  Imhotep yanked the sword away and ran his enemy through, then let the man drop.  A startling sensation hit him as he watched the Med-Jai writhe on the floor.  Guilt?  If Nefertiri heard she would be upset.  She would think him evil, perhaps.

He couldn’t take it back.  Imhotep sighed and headed up the stairs, reminding himself of just how terrible these Med-Jai were.  At the top came a surprise.  A foot slammed into his hand, knocking the gun from him as the lights came on.  Imhotep glared at the woman who had interrupted his work.  She spoke in that other language—the one Nefertiri used with Ardeth, and he spread his hands.  “Do you speak Egyptian?” he asked and she looked him over with distrusting, uncomprehending eyes.  “Nefertiri…Evelyn.  Ardeth Bay…he needs the Book of Amun Ra.”

At mention of Ardeth’s name the woman’s brows narrowed.  She said something of Ardeth Bay and Ali, then very clearly said his own name and that of Osiris with contempt in her voice.  Perhaps Bay was correct.  The Med-Jai still harbored angry feelings toward him.

There could be no help for it.  Imhotep kicked out in a flash, knocking the scimitar away and startling the woman.  His hand found the gun he had dropped and he pointed it, emphasizing the name of Amun Ra in the hope she would understand what he needed.  Her eyes moved ever so slightly in the direction of one of the rooms up here and that was all he needed.  Imhotep grabbed her and would have killed her, but for the gnawing feeling at the pit of his stomach.  Instead he slammed her into the wall—knocking her out, then raced into the room she had betrayed to him.

After a minute of searching he found it tucked away in a locked drawer, which he had to break open.  He wasted no time with Nefertiri’s life in danger.  Imhotep left the fallen Med-Jai behind and exited the house.  Now he needed transportation.

In the back Ali kept a fine looking horse and Imhotep saddled and bridled it, then left the house of the Med-Jai swiftly.  Ardeth and Nefertiri had over an hour on him, but he hoped to make up for that lost time and end her suffering as soon as possible.

And making Ardeth pay might be an interesting perk.

*

Morning came and with it, the Med-Jai.  Jonathan looked ahead at these men that Ardeth believed so blindly in, worried that they were out to take his friend away.  He didn’t consider himself a fan of the law, not usually and was more for mercy—having been on the receiving end of judgment before.  But this wasn’t a stolen item or a drunken brawl or even about a man who had done crimes of his own volition.  This was about a man controlled by an evil priestess, whose fate could be determined by the mercy of these hard warriors who would have killed them all at Hamunaptra if Rick hadn’t lit an explosive.  Such as it was, Jonathan scowled in bias towards them, thinking of Ardeth’s possible future.

Drake’s man Karl cursed and stopped the car as five of them approached.  “Right, well, get your guns ready,” he warned, laying his hand on a colt by his side.  Jonathan blinked and rolled his window down a bit for some fresh air.

A young, stern-faced Med-Jai who didn’t bother to get off his horse loomed above on the driver’s side and when Karl got his window down, he asked, “What is your business in the desert?  Don’t you know there are dangerous men abroad?”

Karl snorted and looked the other over.  “You mean like you?  Last I heard there weren’t no laws about riding around the desert.  If you got a problem…”

“Let me handle this,” Rick said from the back and Jonathan sighed, making sure his gun was handy.  Rick rolled his window down and smiled.  “Lovely morning, isn’t it?  You wouldn’t have happened to have seen a crazy lady wandering around, wrecking people’s lives?  She’s about so tall, black hair and a witchy attitude.  She might have a prisoner with her—a friend of mine actually, who…”

The Med-Jai sighed and spurred his horse into what Jonathan assumed was supposed to be some sort of intimidating pacing.  “You must be O’Connell.  Spare me your smart tongue.  We have not seen Ancksunamun or Ardeth Bay, but rest assured we are looking.  Have you seen him in Cairo?  We thought perhaps they had gone there.”

Rick shook his head.  “No.  Did you try the Temple of Set?  That’s where they were headed, or didn’t Ali tell you about that?”

“We tried the temple, outlander,” he replied darkly and Jonathan bent down to look at him.  He was fierce, large and angry looking.  Jonathan made a face at Rick and he shrugged.

“I say, old boy, we’re not having a good morning, are we?” he called out, peering up at the stranger.

The Med-Jai looked at his companions, then down at the sand.  “When we reached the temple we found the bodies of two Med-Jai—a boy and his mother.  It is our belief, however grievous that may be, that Ardeth has done this.”

Rick shook his head at that, retorted, “Uh-uh.  If you knew what that witch did to him, you’d know better.  He’s not himself and he doesn’t deserve to be treated like a criminal.  Of course he didn’t last time either, but you know, life is hard.”  Jonathan sighed at his sarcastic tone, echoing those thoughts inside his head.  It also echoed the guilt he felt from time to time, remembering how he himself had treated Ardeth after he had attacked Evy.

The stern faced warrior looked inside the car uncertainly.  He seemed genuinely disturbed and that put an unsettling feeling over Jonathan.  “You don’t know how much I want to believe that, outlander.  Ardeth Bay was a friend of mine, but I saw the elder he attacked when he stole the Book of the Dead.”

“What happened?” Rick tested and for their sakes Jonathan hoped these Med-Jai were feeling chatty instead of eager for blood as he surmised by their stance.

Wheeling his horse around, the Med-Jai inhaled and looked over the desert.  “We aren’t certain exactly, but we found the body of a young Med-Jai girl one night, then after a day and night had passed a storm came, obscuring our vision of the desert.  Ardeth Bay snuck into camp, stabbed one of the elders and stole the Book of the Dead.  We cannot say for sure what he plans to use it for, but the three dead Med-Jai we found and the knowledge that he has taken the blood of an elder does not bode well for him.”

Rick grunted and shook his head.  “Yeah, I was afraid of something like that.  He’s not himself, though.  Something’s got a hold on him, some ancient ghost called Akhenre.”  Jonathan frowned at the lie, but Rick shook his head.  “We came out here to make sure he wasn’t judged unfairly.”

The Med-Jai nodded and looked at the driver of their vehicle.  “Yes, you come with one of those thieves, I see.  There were others that we dispatched.”

At that Karl drew his gun, but Jonathan was quick to grab his wrist.  “Not now,” he pleaded, but the assassin would have nothing of it.  The Med-Jai drew their weapons and Jonathan sighed, thankful Evy was safe back in Cairo.

“You killed them?” Karl hissed, holding his gun aimed straight for the Med-Jai leader’s head.

The Med-Jai cocked his head, unafraid and even allowed a smile to cross his features.  “We kill trespassers, thief.  We caught them at the site of the Temple of Set and did what we had to.”

Rick swore and Jonathan nodded his agreement.  This had taken a decidedly dangerous turn.  “So, is that what you have planned for us?” Rick asked, drawing his gun slowly.

Surprisingly the warrior shook his head and told his comrades to lower their weapons.  “No, O’Connell.  If it were the thief alone, yes, but in your case we will make an exception because you bore friendship for Ardeth Bay.  We will take you into custody and let the elders decide.”

“Custody?” Jonathan gasped, not liking the sound of that one bit.  Somehow the idea of being taken into the Med-Jai encampment without Ardeth speaking for them seemed a trifle unappealing.  Of course it was likely Ardeth’s voice meant little now, from the sound of it.  “We aren’t criminals,” he added, then eyed Karl thoughtfully.  “Most of us.”

The Med-Jai frowned at them and opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of hoof beats filled the air, offering up a distraction.  “Codei!” a voice called, breaking the air with sharp panic.  “Codei!”  The Med-Jai turned his head and answered the call.  A young warrior rode hard and fast towards the group and looked on with frightened eyes as he stopped the horse.  “Ancksunamun attacks the Med-Jai encampment!  Return and help us!”

Codei widened his eyes and urged his horse towards the younger man’s.  “Ancksunamun?  Is Ardeth Bay with her?”  The boy shook his head.  The older Med-Jai turned his face to O’Connell’s.  “Will you fight with us, or side with the enemy?”

Rick grunted and put his gun away.  “I’ll side with my friends and since he believes in you, I guess I will too.  We’ll come.”

With a nod the Med-Jai warrior spurred his horse and the six took off towards the camp.  Jonathan raked a hand through his hair nervously and shook his head.  She could quite possibly level the whole camp before they even got there.  “You think Ardeth got away?” he asked hopefully and the look on O’Connell’s face troubled him.

“I don’t know, Jonathan.  I hope so.  ‘Cause if she killed him…”  He stopped and left it there.  He didn’t have to finish that sentence, for Jonathan agreed whole-heartedly.  It was time for Ancksunamun to get a little of hers.

*

“So, would you mind telling me what the big act is all about?” Evy asked, watching Ardeth as he leaned against the wall reading a paper in his hands.  Night would fall soon, blanketing them in darkness within the outer chamber of Hamunaptra.  Here they would wait three days for both Imhotep and Ancksunamun to come.  The irony of that struck her just now.  He looked up from the paper darkly, fingering the knife held loosely in his hand with a meaningful intent in his eyes.  Evy crossed her arms and laughed.  “I’m sorry,” she apologized when he knit his brows.  “You look rather funny, pretending to be evil.  It doesn’t suit you.”

In the blink of an eye the weapon was at her throat.  “Who says I’m pretending?” he said menacingly, but she didn’t flinch.

“Prove it,” she challenged, drawing back from the blade and getting to her feet.  Ardeth drew up as if he were going to pounce on her and that, perhaps, did alarm her slightly.  Evy pushed that aside and kept her proud stance.  “Prove you’re evil now, Ardeth.  Hurt me.  Stop me from escaping.  Anything.”

Her friend watched her through unreadable eyes and remained still.  “Be quiet, Evelyn.”  His voice sounded tired.

She most certainly would not.  Tucking her hair behind her ears, Evy shot back, “If I don’t, what then?  Will you hit me?  Will you cut me?”

“Perhaps,” he breathed as he leaned against the wall again, keeping the dagger drawn.

Evy drew herself up, ready finally to test her faith in him.  “Prove it!” she yelled again, then took off towards the exit.  He could catch her, she knew.  She had no illusions of outrunning him.  But it was what he would do after that interested her.  All during their trip he had insisted she keep quiet and not question him and she suspected she knew why.  Because her talk would make his determination waver.  He wouldn’t be able to fight the temptation of goodness if she spoke kindly.

True to her foresight Ardeth did catch her, throwing his arms around hers and dragging her back into the darkness.  He turned her around and pressed her against the wall, holding the dagger to her collarbone.  His eyes were angry and frightening, but she forced herself to keep his gaze.  If he were going to hurt her, he would do it while she watched him.  But he wouldn’t.  His breathing came hard and he made no move to punish her, nor did he move to free her either.  “Did you think I wouldn’t follow you if you asked me to?” she whispered and his hand found her arm as if to quiet her.  “Is that why you thought you had to scare me?”

“I’m trying to scare you into obedience, Evy,” he replied in a hard voice, but she could see his defenses shaking.  He brushed the blade against her skin softly and pleaded, “Don’t make me hurt you.  Anyone but you.”

Evy swallowed and looked into his sad face, wondering what Ancksunamun had done to him in their short time apart.  It made her angry, made her heart ache for him.  “You don’t have to hurt me, Ardeth.  I’ll follow you.  I trust you.”

He shivered against her and she knew that he wouldn’t last against her faith.  Ancksunamun had bled the hope out of him and he would soak in her own hope like a sponge to water.  “Why do you trust me?” he whispered, sounding like he believed himself unworthy of that treatment.  Perhaps somewhere inside he was capable of hurting her after all.

Evy didn’t know, nor did she care.  She was reaching him and he needed that so desperately.  Her voice trembled as she reached for his face.  “Because I love you, Ardeth.  I love you so much.”  He shifted uncomfortably as if he were the one pinned, but she wouldn’t let up.  “Whatever’s happened, it doesn’t matter.  I’m not going to leave you, either physically or emotionally.”

“Don’t!” he hissed, pressing his blade closer.  He was fighting inside.  She could see the battle being waged in his eyes.  “Don’t trust me.  Don’t love me, Evy.  Don’t you understand?  I will hurt you if I have to.  I must obey her.”

Evy shook her head quickly at that, drawing her arms up over him.  He resisted, but she didn’t let him go.  “Then you’ll have to hurt me, won’t you?  I still won’t stop loving you.”  She yanked him close and tied him into her arms.  For his credit Ardeth did try to push her away, but his strength failed him and his head soon fell to her shoulder in need for love or forgiveness or both.  She didn’t know how deep his pain went or what had been done, and perhaps now it didn’t matter.  Ancksunamun would be stopped and he would be safe.  She would keep him safe and loved no matter who turned their back on him or what he had done.  For a little while Evy pet Ardeth, staring across his shoulder at the darkness beyond.  It smothered her as his own smothered him, but there was always a light shining somewhere.

His knife sliced into her skin and she bit her lip, wondering briefly if he did it on purpose.  Yet no other move was made.  He hadn’t realized.  It made her hurt to have such a thought against him, but pain or no, she didn’t let go of him.  The sting was rapidly becoming worse as the heaviness of their embrace drove it further into her.  Though she hated to interrupt his healing, finally Evy whimpered and he pulled away to see what was wrong.

When his eyes met the blood on her collar, he exhaled and brushed his finger across it gently, making her wince in pain.  “I’m sorry, Evy,” he whispered sadly, then turned away from her.  “I must obey her.”  The truth in that statement made her sigh.

Evelyn stepped away from the wall and touched his back, rubbing him gently as she wished for a way to change this for him.  He whipped around with wide, shocked eyes as if reliving a grievance and startled, she thought to back away, but couldn’t.  He meant no harm to her and those wounded eyes called out for understanding.

Instead she only came closer, drawing him back into her arms and she marveled at how easy it was.  “Lie down,” she told him, urging him to the floor.  He pushed against it, but she didn’t let him win the fight.  “Lie down,” she repeated and when he gave in, she hugged into his side and held him close.  “You’re exhausted, Ardeth.  Go to sleep.  I promise I won’t leave you.”

Ardeth said nothing in reply and made no movements save his uneasy breathing and a hand resting against her shoulder.  He gave her a grateful squeeze and Evy closed her eyes, saying silent prayers for him.

*

Mommints – Never!  I’ll never bring Ardeth back!  HA!  Lol…you guys haven’t even seen evil. ;-)  No really though, we’ll see…can’t reveal all before it ends.  :-O  Thank you very much…I’m very glad this is being well received and I’m not being stoned for it…hehe!  I mean yeah, I know Ardeth’s pretty strong, but I’m sure we all have our breaking points…I think his would be having to hurt people.  :-O  So thank you for your compliments on how I’ve portrayed his downfall.  :-D

Marcher – Thanks!  I’m happy my R/E interactions were liked.  I took a whim and it paid off, eh?  :-)  I may pair Evy with others, but that don’t mean I dislike Rick.  I just prefer Ardeth and Imhotep, can write them easier and I get afraid of writing original characters too much, for fear of delving into Mary Sueism, which I would be tempted to do. ;-)  As for Immy’s evil thread, perhaps.  ;-)  And thanks for compliments on Drake…I rather enjoyed breathing life into my little whim.

Lula – Hehehe..poor Ardeth has flipped. ;-)  Imhotepia…that’s horrible…truly evil.  Hehehehe.  I’m so glad I thought of it. :-D  Thanks, my friend.  I think Anck’ll get hers, but who knows? ;-)  Muahaha.