Title: Lariat of Power
Author: TheDreamyOne
Rating: T
Type: Adventure/drama/romance
Summary: The secrets of the Isis' Tear pendant leads Ardeth, his fellow Medjai, and his close friends - the O'Connells, on an adventure that will test the young chieftain's heart and spirit. (Sequel to "Sphere of Ma'at")
Disclaimer: The Mummy, The Mummy Returns, Ardeth Bay, Rick and Evelyn O'Connell...belong to Universal, Stephen Sommers, etc. No infringements intended. Najya, Kyle, and all original characters are property of the author.
Chapter One
"They are breaking camp," Jubran Masruq observed, lowering himself down to sit beside his Chieftain on the harsh sand dune.
"I did not think this day would ever come," Ardeth acknowledged and waved at the spectacle impatiently. "They will spend the night and take their leave when dawn approaches." He shifted slightly, adjusting the long dark robes worn by the Medjai. He had forgone the more elaborate robes worn by the chieftain in favor of the normal warrior garb. It made him less conspicuous to their enemies, and made him more comfortable amongst his men.
Jubran nodded and remained silent, turning his dark hazel eyes to Ardeth's profile. At age thirty-seven, several years Ardeth's senior, he wondered that it never bothered him that the Chieftain of the Twelve Tribes of the Medjai was not older and more seasoned. Jubran chalked it up to Ardeth's presence. No one could doubt Ardeth Bay commanded respect and deserved it. The man, the warrior, was practically a legend in his time. He went up against He Who Shall Not Be Named twice...and lived to tell the tale. Honor dictated his actions in all things and held him reverent to his Medjai oath. Time and again he proved his worth as a leader and no one would challenge his right to the title of Chieftain either by blood or deed.
After spending the last two months in close company with Ardeth, Jubran could easily read his SâHib's moods. Many conversations had led to the knowledge that although Ardeth Bay's duty remained always at the forefront of his mind, his heart lay elsewhere, and that was truly where he wished to be.
Ardeth turned his attention to his companion and smiled guardedly. "The men will be anxious to return to their tribes, as I am sure you are, yâ SâHib."
Ardeth saw the slight nod of Jubran's head echoing his own desire to return to the arms of their people. "First we must report to the Elders. The men may return to their tribes immediately, but I must visit the Seventh Tribe."
"Aiwa. Elder Hamid Mu'afa will be expecting a report. Hadad, Qadir and I will accompany you, yâ ra'îs."
"Shukran," Ardeth replied. "Rami and Marid Mu'afa will travel with us, as the Seventh Tribe is their home."
"Their relation to Elder Hamid has not bothered you?" Jubran asked curiously as he kept watch over the large group of warriors gathered around their camp in the near distance. The other twenty men would head directly to their tribes with the light of the new day.
"Lâ," he assured his friend. "Their duty is to their oath and their chieftain. They have no interest in the politics of the Council of Elders."
"I agree. They are good, loyal men…as are they all."
Ardeth nodded, shifting his gaze back to the camp below. "Foolish Americans. They risk all for the faint hope of riches and glory. They know nothing of the danger they might stir."
"Luck is with them that the evil that once lay dormant beneath the sands is no longer a part of Hamunaptra," Jubran added as he stood to leave.
"Evil stains this place for all eternity. He Who Shall Not Be Named left his mark in each grain of sand. Yet, you are right. If his body remained, we would have had to do the unspeakable."
"Aiwa, yâ ra'îs. And these fortune hunters would have paid with their lives."
Jubran bid Ardeth goodnight as they approached camp and the chieftain made his way to the solitude of his tent. Jubran noticed a small faction of warriors gathered around a low burning fire. Several tribes were represented in that circle, and pride entered his heart knowing they had become close friends and brothers over the last couple months.
"Commander," Qadir acknowledged as the group stood to honor Jubran, Commander of the Eighth Tribe.
Qadir Omran was a member and warrior of the Eighth Tribe and held Jubran in the utmost of respect. His closest companion, however, was Hadad Thaqib, Jubran's Honored Second. Qadir studied both men as the group once again seated themselves about the fire. Both he and Hadad stood a good two inches taller than Jubran' six feet two inches, but that did not lessen his stature in either man's eyes.
When Hadad removed the ghutrah wrapped around his head, Jubran joked that it was time for his second to see about a hair cut. Unlike Jubran, whose thick black hair barely touched the collar of his robes, Hadad's jet black hair hung past his shoulders in long wavy ringlets. Self-consciously, Qadir ran a hand through his own long, curly dark brown locks, fearing he would next become the object of the commander's teasing.
Instead, Jubran glanced quickly at each man, and said, "We will return to our tribes at dawn. The Americans have finished their business and will leave for Cairo in the morning."
"That is good news, yâ ukh," Hadad commented, his brown eyes gleaming in the firelight. "Yet, why do I feel you have not told us everything?"
Chuckling, Jubran slapped a hand to Hadad's shoulder. "The Chieftain must report to the Elders, so he will be traveling to the Seventh Tribe."
"Then we will accompany him," Hadad insisted.
Jubran nodded. "I have already pledged our assistance to him. After he has completed his task, he will undoubtedly return to the First Tribe."
"Perhaps not," Qadir inserted, gazing thoughtfully into the fire.
"What do you mean, yâ SâHib?" Marid Mu'afa questioned curiously.
"It has been many weeks since the Chieftain has seen his intended, and although he will wish to see his ume, I believe his desire to see the woman he loves will outweigh that wish."
Hadad looked from Qadir to the young warrior Marid. Both were close in age, Qadir having one summer less under his belt that Marid's twenty-eight. He then fixed his gaze upon the quiet one of the group, Rami Mu'afa, Marid's older brother by three summers. Rami and Marid were the sons of Elder Hamid Mu'afa, head of the Medjai's Council of Elders.
"Has there been word from the Council on the chieftain's petition to marry?" Hadad asked curiously. Although reluctant to invade on Ardeth's private affairs, he knew it to be the topic of discussion in each household throughout the Twelve Tribes of the Medjai.
Rami shook his head. "To my knowledge, the Council has not made a determination. I can say that my father is in favor, however, there are several Elders who do not approve of the outsider."
Marid grunted and picked up a thin stick lying beside the dying fire. "The reason behind the campaign to deny the chieftain is well known. Elder Ghazi al Khashshab's oldest daughter, Sidrah, was chosen by the Council to wed the chieftain only last summer," he explained, jabbing at the fire with unconscious hostility.
"Aiwa," Rami agreed. "Ghazi was furious when Ardeth refused the council in favor of this mara, Najya."
Jubran shrugged. "I was not among the warriors that witnessed the happenings at Philae, but have heard the tale by one who was present; Azeem, Honored Second from the First Tribe. He watched as Ardeth took his own life to save the world. And then when the heartbroken Najya could not bear what had happened, she took hers as well. He stood in awe as he watched life restored to them both."
"Najya is rumored to be the descendant of Isis' High Priestess, Neffara," Hadad interjected. "I, too, have heard the tale from Azeem. He was at first leery of this woman, but now has nothing but respect for her. The Elders should not interfere in this matter."
"Agreed," Rami stated emphatically. He stood purposefully, clutching his ghutrah firmly in one hand while running the other through his straight, shoulder length black hair. "And perhaps this conversation should end, lest we begin to sound like the old gossips that gather around the well while doing laundry."
Amidst a burst of laughter, the group disbursed to their respective tents after extinguishing the small fire.
As Jubran neared Ardeth's tent, the chieftain stepped outside. Jubran halted his steps and joined Ardeth. "You have orders, yâ ra'îs?"
"Aiwa," Ardeth responded with a curt nod. "Send a message to Ratib. As Cairo Museum's curator, he can contact the necessary people in the Egyptian government to inspect the artifacts that the Americans unearthed in Hamunaptra."
"I will send a falcon at first light," Jubran acknowledged. "Egypt must keep her treasures, if possible. This will at least give her a chance."
Ardeth nodded his agreement and slapped a hand to Jubran's shoulder. "Leila Sa'eeda"
"To you as well, yâ SâHib"
With the firm breeze in his face, the wind tousling his blonde hair, Kyle Shearer carefully directed his riverboat to a stop in the bustling Giza port. He then turned the helm over to his first mate and made his way to the gangplank to wish his passengers well as they disembarked.
He smiled amusedly when the last passenger stood at his side. "I hope you enjoyed your time aboard the Eclipse, Miss Zaghloul."
"That I did, Captain Shearer...and all the more so since the passage was free," she answered teasingly.
"That could change," Kyle goaded, brushing from her cheek an errant lock of black hair that escaped her long braid.
"I doubt that," she joked and playfully bumped her shoulder against his.
Kyle chuckled good-naturedly. His thoughts turned inward as he escorted Najya to their nearby offices. Since the time she came back into his life, their friendship had blossomed into something akin to family. He had always believed anything that might tie him down would be unwelcome, but he had been without family for too many years. Asking Najya to help with the bookkeeping when she had come to him after her adventure with Ardeth in Isis' Temple on the Island of Philae had been the best thing to happen to him in years.
He had been glad she accepted, since she needed somewhere to stay. She had not been ready to return to the Medjai, having feared their rejection on many levels. She had originally come to the Medjai as a potential enemy and, aside from the powers she possessed, she was an outsider. That fact was emphasized when Ardeth shared with the Council of Elders his decision to marry her. Kyle knew that news hurt Najya more than she let on.
Ardeth hid nothing from Najya and told her how the Council argued that he must comply with the marriage that they had arranged for him. When he refused, some on the Council insisted his marriage to the sorceress would never be permitted. Others argued that it was the Chieftain's decision and should be supported. That was where things were left when Ardeth was informed of the expedition headed for Hamunaptra. He and Najya remained in limbo.
"You're not listening to a word I've said," Najya complained once they had reached the office. She waited patiently while Kyle unlocked the door.
"I'm sorry. I drifted. What were you saying?" he asked, bending down to gather the mail that had been shoved through the mail slot while they had been away.
Najya watched intently while Kyle shuffled through the countless letters. "I said, I believe Mother had more journals," she informed him and reached into her bag to extract the journal she had taken from Drake Bentley at Philae. "See the inside of the back cover?" She held it out for Kyle's inspection.
"Three of six is penciled in the corner," he observed. "So there may be five other journals?"
"That was my conclusion," she stated. "Anything of interest there?" she asked suddenly, her eyes still on the letters he held.
"Reservation requests and bills. Nothing..." he trailed off, suddenly realizing Najya was seeking word from Ardeth. "I'm sorry, Naj. I'm sure he's all right."
A deep sigh left her as she leaned against the nearby window. "He is unharmed, if that is what you mean," she agreed. "I can sense him and I know he lives," she assured Kyle, her hand coming to her breast as though guarding her heart. "It is just..."
"I know, kiddo. It's been a while."
Before further comments could be made, a swift knock came at the door before it swung open and a young boy ran inside. "Miss Najya! Miss Najya!" he called loudly.
"Kazeem!" Najya greeted and bent down to ruffle the boy's unruly black hair. "How are you, my young friend? And your father?"
"Father is quite well, Miss, as am I," he stated proudly, drawing his eight year old body up to its full height. Kazeem was the youngest son of the Port master and very proud of his father. "A message came for you this morning from the museum curator in Cairo." He held out a small envelope to Najya. After she accepted it, he gave a slight bow. "Good day to you Miss, and to you as well, Captain."
Kyle chuckled as the young boy ran out before either he or Najya could respond. "Never let it be said that Kazeem is impolite."
Najya nodded absently while opening the envelope to discover a tiny scroll inside. Unrolling it, she read the short message. A smile of pure delight lit her face when she turned looked up at Kyle. "It's from Ardeth."
"Why am I not surprised," he teased. "What does the Chieftain have to say?"
"The expedition has ended and he is on his way to report to the Council." She kissed his cheek quickly and then ran to the stairs at the back of the office. "I must hurry."
"Hurry for what?"
"I feel like going for a horseback ride," she explained elusively and headed up the stairs.
Kyle shook his head at the retreating back of his friend. If she thought she was going to make this trip alone, she had another think coming. With an impatient sigh, Kyle left his office and made his way to the nearby stables.
...to be continued.
Translations:
--
SâHib -- friend
yâ ra'îs -- my chief
Aiwa -- yes
Shukran -- thank you
Lâ – no
yâ ukh -- my brother
Ume – mother
Leila Sa'eeda -- Good Night
mara-- woman