Disclaimer: I don't own Ardeth Bey, the Med-jai, the O'Connells, or Jonathon, and I'm only borrowing them for the purposes of this story
As the man began to repeat his argument for what was now the seventh time, Ardeth Bey's temper finally snapped. Stepping forwards, he caught hold of the merchant's robes in both hands and hauled him upwards, so his feet were off the floor and dangling in mid-air. The man shrieked, grabbing at Ardeth's arms as he took a step forwards, holding the man up against the side of a building. The crowd flowed past, some of them glancing at the pair, but no one making any effort to help.
"If you sell one more fake map directing people to Hamunaptra," Ardeth snarled, "I will personally kill you." Although Hamunaptra had sank into the ground several years ago, following the … incident… with the O'Connells, there was still a brisk trade in maps which claimed to lead to Hamunaptra, and almost all of them were fake. Though the Med-jai had sworn to keep anyone away from Hamunaptra, killing those who had come too close, they didn't like to see travellers dying in the desert, lost because they trusted some weasel of a merchant.
The man babbled his assurances that of course he would not dream of selling such maps, and Ardeth finally released him in disgust, dropping him to the ground and stalking away. He reflected that he probably should have killed the man anyway. He strode along the streets of Cairo, frowning at the bustle swirling around him. Normally a solitary man, his time as the leader of the Med-jai often led him to be alone for months, or isolated with a small group of warriors, and he didn't feel the need to seek more company than that, usually. He needn't have come here - almost any Med-jai could have put a stop to the merchant's practice- but he'd been in the city on Med-jai business anyway.
Although the streets were crowded there was a respectful distance between him and anyone else - some recognised him as Med-jai, and all others respected the sword and naturally fierce expression. The streets were rife with pickpockets and thieves, but he was safe from all of them - they were greedy, not suicidal.
He walked on, enjoying the coolness of the evening air.
"Tell your fortune, master?"
He glanced down to see the old woman sat on a faded rug at the side of the street. He'd been walking for some time, and the street he was in now was a lot quieter and less crowded. He smiled, politely shaking his head. There were some who had the gift for fortune telling - several of the elders in his tribe could do so, but he doubted that anyone with talent would be almost destitute and working in the streets of Cairo. Still, it was always wise to be respectful to those older than your self.
He'd walked on a few steps when he heard the woman's cracked voice again. "Would you like to hear of your death, Ardeth Bey?"
He stopped, then turned back to look at the woman, who was smiling wryly. "That was a little dramatic" she admitted, "but I find it's the best way of catching people's attention."
Ardeth nodded numbly, wondering if the old woman really did have any kind of power. He didn't like magic - the sweep of the sword was much more honest, much less complicated. The woman beckoned him closer, and as he sat down she whispered "Would you like to hear of your death? There are many possibilities. Perhaps you might be killed by a runaway horse, or…"
He looked up at a shout from further up the street, and his eyes widened in shock as a horse plunged down the street. It wasn't saddled, and there was no rider. He sat, paralysed, as the horse bolted past, passing so close that he felt the air move. He finally began to rise, shaking off his amazement, but relaxed again as he saw someone manage to slow, then stop the horse further on down the street. He wondered where the horse had come from - probably escaped from one of the markets where they sold all kind of animals.
He slowly lowered himself back down to the mat.
"Or, perhaps not." The woman finished her earlier sentence, her smile mocking now. She raised an eyebrow. "Convinced?"
He nodded again, and the woman smiled in satisfaction. "I bring you a warning, Ardeth Bey. The Night of the Dark is almost upon us".
He frowned at the name - one which existed only as a story to tell the young ones. But then, wasn't Hamunaptra considered to be a story by all but those who knew it for reality?
"The Night of the Dark, when evil, primal forces rise to threaten the world." The woman shook her head, smiling at her dramatic statement. "All these stories are so overblown, but the grain of truth at the centre remains."
"And why do you warn me?" Ardeth was feeling impatient.
The woman shrugged. "Why not? Someone has to do something about it, and the Med-jai are better at this kind of thing than most."
"So, what are we supposed to do?"
"A person must go to the chamber at the ruins of Altern, and confront the forces of evil that rise. It is, of course, terribly dangerous, and the world is in great peril."
"I fear you mock me" Ardeth said coldly, beginning to rise, but the woman's hand shot out, grasping his wrist with icy fingers.
"Perhaps I do," she admitted, "but by now you should be used to that, yes? The O'Connells, your companions on several occasions now…"
"This is something to do with them?" he interrupted, sitting down again. That made the whole thing seem more likely. They were always waking some kind of ancient force - they'd returned to Egypt five times since their visit to Hamunaptra, and caused mayhem on all five occasion - four of which he'd had to assist in the clear up.
The woman shook her head. "Surprisingly, no. This occurs once every three hundred years, and requires no one to tamper with anything for it to happen."
"So, what do I have to do?"
The woman cackled. "You don't have to do anything. This isn't one of the Med-jai's sacred tasks - the last person to do it was a runaway slave who happened to be in the right place. But, whoever does it must be at Altern in two days time, and once they enter the chamber, they must not leave until the night is over."
"That's all?"
"That's all. They will act as a key in the lock, preventing the forces from leaving the chamber."
Ardeth shook his head. The night two days away? It was doubtful that any of his men were near enough to ride to it that quickly. "If the Med-jai don't do this, does anyone else know about it?"
The woman shrugged again. "Who knows?"
Ardeth sighed. One of the responsibilities of guarding was that you sometimes couldn't choose what you guard against. "I will get there."
He rose without another word, heading back to the main part of the city.
"Remember" called the woman, "You mustn't leave the chamber."
Ardeth was in a foul temper. He'd spent an entire day and a half walking the city, looking for a plane that would take him to Altern. Every single one he'd gone to had claimed that there was something wrong with their plane - and more than once he'd heard the muttered words "He was with O'Connell". The last time the O'Connells had come to Egypt, he and Rick had ended up on another plane, which they'd managed to destroy. You'd think that after his first plane ride - with that man, called Winston, wasn't he? - he would have had enough sense to stay on the ground.
This was the last place he could try. He knocked on the door, but there was no answer. He tried the door handle - it wouldn't give under his hand, but Ardeth could hear the sound of voices behind the fence. His temper finally exploded and he took a step back, lashing out with his foot at the door, which splintered and sagged back, falling off one hinge.
James Milliken smiled weakly at the man in front of him. "I don't have your money right at the moment, Ayden, " he began, "but I can explain…"
The man gestured, and one of the men stood next to him - a huge giant of a man with a scar running across his face - stepped forwards, grabbing James around the throat and lifting him up. "Now, just hold on a sec, chaps" he protested feebly.
Ayden smirked. "I did warn you what would happen if you didn't pay up within the week"
"It's not my fault I lost. I had a perfectly good hand…" James broke off as the door to his plane yard swung violently inwards and a man strode in through it. He was tall, dressed in black, tattooed, and looked menacing. 'Oh hell' James thought. 'Who have I upset this time?'
The man stopped, and looked round slowly at the assembled men. He seemed perfectly at ease. He raised an eyebrow, then asked "Are you the owner of the plane?"
What kind of a question was that? Not, do you need any help? Or, can I assist in killing him?
"Yes" James squeaked. "I am."
The man nodded in satisfaction. "Then I would like to hire you. I need to be flown somewhere."
"He isn't going anywhere." Ayden's eyes were wary. "I think you should just leave."
The man frowned, then sighed, looking irritated. Then he moved smoothly at surprising speed, and the hulking man holding onto James howled and dropped him, before sinking into a moaning heap. The dark figure caught James as he fell, steadying him, then pushing him back. He took a quick step forwards, the sword whistling out of the scabbard and snapping up, stopping at Ayden's throat.
Ayden's eyes met Ardeth's, then he panicked. "Stop" he yelled at his men, who were just beginning to draw their guns - their reflexes slowed by surprise. He had no doubt that the man in front of him would kill him without hesitation, and although common sense told him that the man would die soon after, his fear and superstition were arguing otherwise.
"What business do you have with this man?" the tattooed man inquired. From his accent, Ayden guessed that the man was desert born - one of the Arabic tribes, perhaps.
"He owes me money." Ayden replied. "A lot of money."
"How much?"
Ayden told him the figure, which made the man raise his eyebrows again, and caused James to wince. Finally the man shrugged and stepped back, the sword slipping back into the sheath. He reached into a hidden pocket, and as the assembled men watched tensely, he pulled out a slender roll of paper. He wrote quickly on it, then folded it up and passed it to Ayden. "There is a money lender near the Dejyn street market, only a short distance from here. You know of him?"
Ayden nodded.
"Take this to him, and he will pay you the full amount. Then your business is settled."
"How do we know he'll pay?" one of Ayden's men demanded. Ayden paled, taking a step back, guessing the reaction that was to come.
The desert man went still, his dark eyes cold. "You question my word?" he asked softly.
Ayden shook his head hurriedly. This was not a man he wanted to argue with. He turned on his heel, and quickly left the yard, his men trailing behind him.
James looked at the man in astonishment. "Thank you".
The man nodded. "Will you fly me to where I want to go?"
"For that, I will fly you anywhere. So, uh, where is it you want to go?"
"I must be in Altern by tonight."
James grinned. "No problem, old chap."
As Ardeth followed the Englishman to his plane he wondered exactly why he hadn't taken up something easy, like camel herding, instead.
Ardeth glanced at the sun, checking the time. From the landmarks, he guessed that they were about an hour away, which was good, because there was only a little over an hour left until sundown.
"You know," the Englishman drawled, "it would be a lot easier to use a watch." Ardeth scowled irritably, deciding yet again that he was just going to ignore the man.
"Tell me something" James said, eyeing his taciturn passenger. "Are you a Med-jai?"
Ardeth turned to the man sat next to him in surprise. What did this foreigner know of the Med-jai?
"I only ask because one of my friends, a chap called Jonathon, told me all about the Med-jai, and I was just wondering if what he was saying was true, or whether it was just one of his drunken ramblings. He makes up some pretty good stuff when he's drunk."
"Jonathon? Do you mean Jonathon…" Ardeth trailed off - he couldn't recall hearing Jonathon's last name. "He's got a sister,"
"Called Evelyn" James finished. "Darned pretty woman too. Yep, that's the one." He eyed Ardeth sideways. "So, I guess he was telling the truth after all. Now, there's a strange thing."
Ardeth was curious. "How do you know him?"
"Went to school with him, as a matter of fact. He often comes to Cairo - one of my drinking buddies. He gets into even more trouble than I do."
Ardeth nodded. He'd been thinking that the man's behaviour reminded him of Jonathon - was it something they all learnt together at school, or perhaps it was just a cultural thing? He ignored the question about being Med-jai- it did not do to discuss these things with outsiders- and James wisely kept quiet.
They finally came within sight of Altern, and Ardeth's heart jumped slightly. He could feel the waves of evil emanating from the place.
"So, you, uh, want to go down there? Now?" James's voice was shaking slightly. Ardeth couldn't blame him.
They finally set down, and Ardeth vaulted out of the plane. "I'll be here all night" he yelled up at James. He hesitated, wondering if the man would stay if he asked. Some of the Med-jai would probably be within a few days of the place, but it would be hard to get to them.
"I'll stay here" James reassured him. "Um, you, uh, do you, uh, want company?" Ardeth smiled, shaking his head, impressed that the man had even asked. Then he turned on his heel and ran towards the centre of the ruins.
The feeling of evil grew as he got closer, and he began to feel terrified. I shouldn't do this, a little voice whispered. I am the leader of the Med-jai, what will they do if I die? I have responsibilities… He cut the thought off savagely.
He'd been here before, but it all looked different now - darker, more menacing. He wound his way to the centre of the ruins, and walked into the huge, pillared chamber. Once inside, he stopped. A flickering, sickly, greenish light came from some kind of altar at the end of the room, but the rest of the chamber was cloaked in thick shadows, and thousands of eyes gleamed in the darkness. He could hear soft whisperings, promising him death, or worse. He almost turned, and ran, but instead forced himself to walk forwards until he reached the altar. He wondered if he could destroy it, if that would stop what was happening, but when he got there he stumbled, overcome by weakness.
The world seemed to spin, his head getting dizzy, then suddenly the spinning stopped, and bright sunlight dazzled his eyes. He squinted, and realised that he wasn't at Altern any longer - he was back at the desert, with the Med-jai. He frowned, wondering if he had been dreaming, and took a step forwards towards a small pool of water, hoping a drink would clear his senses. His legs were shaky and he staggered, falling to his knees at the pool. He looked down, then stiffened in shock.
The face staring up at him was his, but not as he knew it. He was ancient, an old, weak, frail man. He looked down at his hands, and saw that they were thin and wrinkled and shaking, no longer strong enough to heft a sword. He stumbled upright in shock, looking around in panic. A young woman darted forwards, frowning in concern.
"There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere. You shouldn't have run off like that" she chided gently. He looked at her numbly.
"Who are you?"
She frowned. "You remember. I'm Santaya." "Santaya" she repeated slowly as Ardeth frowned in confusion. He shook his head, and she sighed. "Let's get you back inside" she said, taking him by the arm.
"Let go of me" Ardeth shouted, trying to wrench his arm away from hers, and was mortified to find that he couldn't. He staggered from the effort, and she had to hold him upright. At the side, two young children giggled, and an older woman told them off.
"He was the greatest of our leaders" she hissed. "In his time he fought all of our enemies. You should honour him."
Ardeth shook his head, trying to shake away the scene. This wasn't right. It wasn't real. Santaya tugged his arm gently. "Come on" she said, her voice having the sing-song tone Ardeth had heard used on young children. Summoning all his strength he pulled away from her, and her grip broke. He staggered, and fell into the pool. He weakly tried to claw to the surface, and water flooded down his mouth and nose. He choked, gasping, blinking water away…
…And found that he was on his knees before the altar. He quickly raised trembling hands to his face, and checked the skin. It was still firm, his hands strong and sure. He rose carefully to his feet, scowling grimly.
"Do you fear growing old?"
Ardeth spun at the sound of a mocking voice, and gasped in surprise at the sight of the figure in front of him. It was him, as he had been at the age of twenty - young, at the peak of fitness and agility. The face bore no trace of the maturity and knowledge he'd gained over the years, holding instead a supreme confidence and arrogance, faith in his own abilities.
"No" he answered, but he lied. He knew that he feared it. That was why this place had created the vision. He feared no longer being able to protect his people. The young figure smiled mockingly, then drew his sword.
The young Ardeth attacked, his speed so quick that the older Ardeth hardly had the time to pull his sword out. The strength and skill of the younger man was shocking, and Ardeth found himself being beaten back, stumbling and falling, sharp cuts appearing over his body as he failed to defend himself completely.
He tried to press an attack, but the young man evaded it with insulting ease, and as their blades locked he flicked them aside and leapt high, his foot lashing out to catch Ardeth on the chest. He was thrown back, slamming into a wall and sliding down it before scrambling back to his feet and moving away in time to almost avoid the down sweeping blade, which caught him on the left arm. He staggered away and the young man attacked again. This time Ardeth's blade was ripped from his hand and he threw himself towards it, snatching it up as he rolled over and came to his feet.
The young man smirked. Ardeth's blade hadn't got through his guard even once - he was unmarked. "Very impressive" he said dryly. Before Ardeth could recover his breath the young man attacked again, and now he was no longer toying with him. Three times his sword penetrated Ardeth's defences, and only desperate moves prevented them from being fatal. As it was, he dripped blood from several large wounds.
He staggered backwards, and the young man smiled. "You could just leave," he suggested. Ardeth went still, hoping for a second, then shook his head. The young man shrugged, then attacked one final time. His sword flashed out, beating Ardeth back, then lanced out into his chest. As Ardeth cried out he twisted around the blade, trapping it in his body, and his own sword lashed out to take the young man in the throat. He fell to the floor, and Ardeth sank to his knees, the sword falling out from his body. His vision blurred…
…from the heat that rose from the desert. He stumbled, falling, and dragged himself back upright. He knew that behind him were the demon beasts that Imohtep had sent after him. He deserved to die - he had failed in his duty and now the Creature had risen again - but still he kept on running. His clothes were in shreds, he'd lost all his weapons, and his boots had long worn away, his feet burning on the sand.
He staggered, and fell again. This time he couldn't rise. Memories swept over him.
'I am Ardeth Bey, one time leader of the Med-jai, but they are all dead and I have failed.'
'I am Ardeth Bey, protector against the rise of the Creature, but he has risen, and I have failed.'
'I am Ardeth Bey, guardian of Hamunaptra, sworn never to let anyone go there, but travellers did, and raised the Creature, and I have failed.'
'I am Ardeth Bay, sworn to protect the innocent, yet I couldn't prevent the Creature from sacrificing a woman to raise his beloved, and I have failed.'
'I am Ardeth Bey, the world is under the rule of my sworn enemy, and I cannot fight him. I have tried, but I could not win, and now I am chased by his creatures, and I lie here, and I will die, because I have failed.'
'I am Ardeth Bey, and in everything I have failed'.
He could hear the creatures now, and he rolled slightly. He could see them, huge dark beasts charging across the ground. He should have stayed and fought against them, but his nerve had failed and he had run, telling himself that he would return to fight Imohtep again. And now it is too late.
As the creatures drew nearer he managed to force himself to his feet, and he stood there, swaying. He screamed his protest into the empty sky.
"It shouldn't have been like this".
And the sky heard - a face formed in the clouds, and he saw the image of Imohtep looking down, smiling. Despair swept over Ardeth, and he almost gave in. But he didn't.
He gave one last shout of defiance, then the first creature reached him, leaping forwards and driving him to his knees…
Ardeth blinked in the hazy light. He was on his knees in front of the doorway, inside the chamber in Altern. He pressed a hand to his chest, checking for the wound he'd received earlier. He was shaking, the horror of the memories washing over him. It had been so real.
He wondered why the sword wound wasn't present - there wasn't a mark on him.
"I really am impressed".
Ardeth looked up, staring at the man who strolled towards him. Once again, it was him. This time, the man was the same age, and his features were exactly the same, but somehow he wasn't. His face was cruel and arrogant, his posture haughty, and filled with pride. The voice both casual and mocking.
"You should have just given up by now."
"And who are you?" Ardeth inquired, trying to struggle to his feet. He stopped sharply as the other man's sword snapped out, landing to rest just under his chin. Th tip pricked his throat, drawing a trickle of blood. The man smiled.
"I am what you will become. This is your future."
"No" Ardeth's voice was ragged. "I will not become…"
"All that power, that position. In thousands of small ways you abuse it, at first just for little things, ones you don't even notice, until you finally, gently, slide into becoming just as evil as the Creature you guard against. Worse, even, for he is an inhuman monster, created by your kind, if you remember, while you are just a man who has created his evil himself."
"You're wrong." Ardeth shouted, the sound echoing in the huge room, while laughter hissed softly from the watching creatures.
"Careful." The figure tilted the sword blade up, so Ardeth was forced to raise his head with it. "You know the saying, that evil is an illusion? Well, it's wrong. Everything earlier was an illusion, but I am quite real, and you are in a lot of danger."
Ardeth tensed. The old woman had said that he needed to stay in the chamber - he assumed that dying didn't come under staying. He had sacrificed his life earlier, but that was when he'd had no chance. Now, he had to be careful. He threw himself backwards, away from the sword point, rolling before the other man could react and coming to his feet some distance away.
He watched his enemy carefully. Although the man looked supremely confident, there was a tension around his eyes. How long had he been in here, Ardeth wondered? The other man stepped forwards, beginning to stalk Ardeth. There was a moment of silence, then the battle began.
The clash of swords rang out, echoing through the room. This sword fight was much more evenly matched than before, and Ardeth found that he was often the better of the pair, slashing cuts across the other man's body. The man stumbled, and Ardeth's sword licked out, ripping a gash across his face. The man shouted, and Ardeth felt strangely exultant. He pressed the attack, and soon the man was all but defeated. Ardeth locked blades, then twisted his, and the other sword flew out of the man's grasp. He fell to his knees, looking up, sneering.
"You think you have won?"
Ardeth stepped forwards, not bothering to speak, wanting to let the man's death be the answer to the question. His sword lashed out, but then he managed to turn it so it went to one side, crashing against the floor and raising sparks. He met the stunned eyes of the man on the floor.
"What you said, earlier, you were right." There was complete silence, and Ardeth smiled tiredly. "It is something my father warned me against, once. When you have power, you must always be careful not to let it corrupt you. The ultimate truth is that you may be my future, so I must always be careful to make sure you are not."
He smiled again, and felt the evil that had begun to seep from the room into him release its hold on him.
The man on the floor looked up, eyes dark with hate, then screamed as white light flooded the room. For a moment Ardeth felt as if he was burning, he could see nothing except fierce white light, then his eyes cleared, and he realised that the sun had risen. Warm, gentle golden light poured through a hole in the ceiling, reflecting off the ancient mirrors that were still propped, in places, around the room. The chamber was empty, the altar dull stone again. He strode forwards, looking at it. The stone was dusty, chipped in places. He pulled out his sword and raised it high over his head.
'You think you have won?'
The voice whispered in his head. He shook his head, then brought the sword crashing down. The truth was that he could never win. Just so long as he didn't lose, either, everything should be all right.
James had spent an uncomfortable night, resting uneasily in the cockpit. Something had told him that he should have gone with the man - he didn't even know his name- but he'd been unable to move. Whatever had happened that night, it wasn't normal. He blinked as the sun rose, and wondered how soon the man would come out.
Shortly after, he did. James frowned, wondering. The man seemed different, somehow. If asked to say how, he'd probably say he looked… sadder.
He grinned at the man, and was surprised when the man returned the grin. "Where to next?" he inquired.
Ardeth frowned for a moment, then shrugged. He wasn't in any hurry to return to the Med-jai today. "Back to Cairo" he answered. Today he had no desire for solitude.