Yea! Not such a long wait this time! And as promised, we reach the warg attack in this one. Also, a quick author's note: Nizam Toth, oft-mentioned in this pages and others, was a character featured in the short-lived Mummy cartoon. . .Ardeth's main nemesis, aka The Dark Med-jai. He was voiced by Michael T Weiss (who did a kick-butt job), and damn if he didn't look just like his VA.
Reviews:
Sailor Elf: Glad you like it. . .I've been told in the past that I'm too hard on myself. Which is why instead of changing things constantly, if I can't find any specific reason for my discomfort, I leave a chapter alone. Oh, I'll change misspellings or grammatical boo-boos as I find them (which happen, especially when I'm tired). . .but unless something screams at me to be changed, I leave it alone.
Mommints: Why, thank you dear! I know I've said it before, but you were one of the first Mummyverse writers I started reading. . .while I've enjoyed them all, I think my all-time favorite is 'The Wolf, the Witch, and the Warrior.' (I think I have that in the right order, but if I don't, I do apologize). Eowyn is a fascinating character to me, and I can't resist looking at things through her eyes. . .or, at the very least, trying to look through her eyes. No Rick, Evy, or Celia in this chapter, though I am glad they seem real. If they seem real, it means I've succeeded. (Shut up, Rick, or I'll do to you what I did in 'What Might Have Been')
Terreis: That's alright, hon, I quite understand. I did, indeed, get your birthday card. . .thank you! Just what every woman needs when she turns thirty-four. . .a picture of Oded Fehr, no matter what character! Would you believe I've never seen the DVD of the Two Towers? In truth, the dancing idea came up because it's something that's occurred to me while I was watching that scene, and any time I watch the first real fight scene in 'The Mummy Returns.' And yes, Rick and Celia were nice to each other! They can be nice to each other. . .besides, Celia doesn't have the energy to harass Rick. And you're right. . .as much as possible, Pharaoh won't let anything happen to Ardeth.
Belphegor: First, I'm trusting you to let me know if I misspelled what I understood as 'Landsrath.' I keep trying to buy the trilogy, but can never find them when I'm shopping. I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter so much. I'm not an Eowyn/Aragorn shipper either, but in some ways, Eowyn reminds me of a young girl with her first crush. I think you have a point with her envy of Aragorn, something I touch on in this chapter. She feels helpless to protect her country and her people, her family. Theoden. . .you know, for all intents and purposes, Theoden was violated by Saruman and Grima. He's in no hurry to trust any strangers, not even ones whom Gandalf trusts. Gimli's suspicion of Ardeth is fading away, but he didn't accept Ardeth right away, either, and he wasn't violated in the way Theoden was. I've included a part with Seti (and Ardeth's father) to clear up any confusion that may linger regarding Seti and his decision to watch over Ardeth.
Okay, on with the story!
Part Nine
With a whisper of a thought, Pharaoh Seti the First materialized in the distant past where his son's reincarnation was sent. This was a past distant even to Pharaoh. However, even with that handicap, it took him no time at all to find Ardeth. A man dressed entirely in black, with unusual facial tattoos, would stand out. And he did. Pharaoh quickly discovered that the refugees were making camp for the night. There were no tents set up. . .only bedrolls and fires. Seti was not in the least bit surprised to find the young Med-jai king ignoring his injuries to aid the people of Rohan with the defense of their camp and the calming of their children.
Seti shook his head in affectionate disbelief, telling his companion, "Even now, so far from home, the boy is still the chieftain. You did an excellent job of raising him, Grandson." He looked away from Ardeth long enough to beam at the reincarnation of his grandson, Suleiman Bey. Contrary to what the foolish Elders of the Med-jai believed, there actually was a prophecy about the return of Lady Ardath to her adoptive people.
Like most prophecies, it was in vague terms, so that it could be interpreted in any way one could see fit. . .save for one line. 'When the son is reborn as the father, then the daughter from a land far away shall return to her people.' Suleiman Bey was the reincarnation of his ancestor, Ardeth Bey, and therefore, he was the reincarnation of Seti's grandson. The son, Ardeth, was reborn as the father. Ardeth to Suleiman, and Rameses to Ardeth.
Seti looked at the reincarnation of his grandson once more, smiling. His grandson, who was only five years old when Seti died. His grandson was five, and his daughter hardly more than a child herself. Nefertiri. Pharaoh closed his eyes, and tried not to think of his daughter, of his beloved 'Tiri. Instead, he focused on his descendents. This man at his side was a far cry indeed from the mischievous five year old boy who hurtled through the halls of the palace.
Ahh, Seti loved that little boy! He had Rameses' features, and his mother's curls, her eyes, her smile. When he was around Rameses, he made the grieving prince smile. Just like his mother. Ardath made him smile, and for that reason alone, Seti adored her. Besides, he was a soldier, and the son of a soldier, and he appreciated courage. Particularly the quiet courage displayed by Ardath when she protected a Med-jai child from his nephew's wrath.
Suleiman replied, "I can only take some credit for Ardeth, Grandfather. My Altair did most of the raising, especially after I died. But I am proud of him. . .more proud than I can tell you." Suleiman paused, almost hesitating, then added, "And I am proud of you, Grandfather. . .it took a great deal of love and a great deal of courage to. . ." Again, he faltered.
But he had no need to continue. Seti understood, and answered quietly, "I love him as well. When he was born. . .do you remember that? Do you remember pacing outside the tent, while Altair struggled to bring him into the world? Or how every time she screamed, it took three men to keep you from going to her? Of course you do. I remember as well, because I was there. I was guiding him out, I was giving my strength to him as he was born."
He looked at his grandson more fully, adding, "Do you really think that when Ardeth needed me most, I would abandon him? I would have never allowed him to die. This. . .it just gave me a chance to put a three-thousand-year-old wrong to rights. With your mother, for not permitting your father to wed her, and with Anck-su-namun."
"You were no worse than anyone else of that time, Grandfather. And you protected her as best you could," Suleiman pointed out. Seti inclined his head with a sigh. And yet, neither of those facts comforted him. His grandson paused, then continued, "I noticed, too, that you said nothing about making things right with the. . .with Imhotep." In spite of himself, Seti smiled. His grandson still struggled with calling Imhotep by name.
"No," he agreed, "because I have no regrets where Imhotep is concerned. No, I was no different than any other ruler of that time. Perhaps a trifle more arrogant, because of the land I ruled. But at the same time. . .I can see now, after all these centuries, how much I hurt Anck-su-namun. I do not know if you will believe this, my grandson, but I loved her. Oh, I know what people say. . .I was an old man wanting a young and beautiful bride."
"You were also a lonely old man. Grandfather, I do not condemn you. . . nor do I condone what you did. But you did not deserve to die like that. No one does. Any more than Imhotep deserved the hom-dai. Many times, I have seen into my son's heart, and known that he feels the same way. When Hamadi Bey pronounced the hom-dai, he did not just curse Imhotep. He cursed his descendents as well. And for that, I cannot forgive him," Suleiman said.
"Nor can I, my grandson," Seti answered softly, "nor can I." He was silent for several moments, staring at his descendent, at the reincarnation of his son. Rameses and Nefertiri. He loved them both so much. If he had regrets where his son, Ardath, and Anck-su-namun were involved, then he had even more regrets where his daughter, his little 'Tiri, was concerned. She saw him die. It was his job to protect her and prepare her, and she watched him die.
He heard her cry out to the Med-jai as he crumpled to the ground. He heard her voice, as if from far away. He heard her screaming. And in those moments when Seti finally released his hold on life, two amazing things happened. First, Nefertiri lunged over the balcony, as if trying to reach him before he died. . .only to be dragged back from certain death by the strong arms of her older brother. Rameses pulled her back and held her as the Med-jai swarmed into the room.
The other amazing thing. . .as his ka detached itself from his body, he was met by his other beloved daughter, Ardath. This surprised him, for he believed that Anpu or Asu would meet him. He found, however, that he preferred this greeter. Ardath held out a hand, saying softly, 'Come, father. . .it is time for Ma'at to weigh your heart.'
He was not cast to Ammit, for what he did to Anck-su-namun, but nor was he permitted to take his place in the Afterlife. They wronged each other, and neither could rest in peace until amends were made. What neither realized was that before they could make amends, to each other, something else had to happen. Rameses had to forgive himself, and accept Ardath's love once more. So strange. . .how everything kept coming back to Rameses and Ardath.
Seti asked softly, "When did you realize that you were my grandson? That your father was reborn as your son?" Suleiman said nothing at first. He was watching Ardeth. Seti smiled. It only took one. At Gimli's insistence, the young chieftain finally sat down, and only moments later, the first child of Rohan wandered over. The child, who was perhaps eight or nine, practically plopped into Ardeth's lap, any fear overwhelmed almost immediately by curiosity.
"When Ardeth was about the age of that little girl," Suleiman answered finally, nodding to the child, "I think that is also when I also realized that Ardeth would make a far better chieftain for our people than his brother." Seti nodded. It was something he realized early on. However, he said nothing, and Suleiman continued, "I believe he was nine years old, because it was around two years later that he was kidnapped."
He looked away from his son, asking hoarsely, "Why did you do nothing then, Grandfather? My son almost died in my arms!" Seti dropped his gaze. The truth was, nothing he said would truly answer his grandson's question. He was there, of course. He never stopped watching over the reincarnations of his children. But at the time. . .Nefertiri needed him more.
"I know, grandson. I. . .was occupied elsewhere. Ardeth had you. . .and Evelyn needed me. I was there, in both places. I was in Egypt, and England, at the same time. But my daughter needed me more, grandson," Seti finally replied. He exhaled slowly, then continued, "By the time that situation was over, and I could return my full attention to you and Ardeth, you were back at Tiri, and Ardeth was in the care of the healers."
Knowing that. . .and knowing that it happened only two years before the death of Suleiman's physical body. . .it was not so hard to understand his grandson's fury. Suleiman was a man who could forgive many things. But not harm to his children. Never harm to his children. In that respect, he and Seti were much alike. Seti's dying thought was not rage against Imhotep and Anck-su-namun for their betrayal, but regret that his little girl would see him die.
"I saw it all, grandson. I saw the confrontation between you and the traitor. I also saw your eleven year old son pull himself upright and kill the traitor, when all seemed lost," Seti answered finally. He stared for a long time at the children now surrounding Ardeth. One in his lap, one on either side, and one in front. The group was growing, as more and more children grew bold enough to question this stranger.
"You know, that bastard almost killed my son," Suleiman said softly, "and he almost killed me. I did not die, because of my son. Ardeth killed him to save me. He should have been resting. Should have been regaining his strength. But instead, he saved my life. And how did I thank my little boy? Did I hug him each night and tell him how much I loved him? La. I stopped being his father, and focused all my attention on making him into a good chieftain."
"He loved you, nonetheless, Suleiman. And he still loves you. We both failed our children, my grandson. I failed Nefertiri and Rameses, I even failed your mother. I sometimes think that is the fate of any father who is also a ruler," Seti answered quietly. In the beginning, he had little faith in his son's reincarnation. It wasn't that Ardeth was incapable. . .he was just so young when he became chieftain, and the Elders were fools.
But Ardeth never gave up, never stopped fighting. Seti went on after a moment, "And perhaps our failures are what gave our children the strength they needed. Especially your Ardeth. Nothing was handed to him. . .he fought for everything in his life. He fought to live, he fought to survive. He fought to make himself worthy of you. He fought the Elders, he fought Imhotep, he fought to make Celia his queen."
Suleiman smiled at that, saying, "Aywa. You asked about Rameses. When Ardeth was thirteen, a few weeks before I left my mortal body, I found the prophecies regarding my mother's return to the Med-jai. When the father is reborn as the son."When the father is reborn as the son. Seti answered softly, "That was the way it had to be. Whatever else you might have done wrong as a father, you did at least one thing right. You married Altair Costas. Even after you joined us, she had the strength to be a good mother to your children. She is the source of your son's strength. . . she and his wife. Even as you were trying to prepare your son for his eventual destiny as chieftain, she remained Ardeth's mother."
"Aywa. What do you suppose he is telling them? Is he telling them about our world? About the new century? Is he telling them about his own children, about his family, about the legends of our people?" Suleiman asked. Seti looked at his grandson in surprise, then realized he couldn't hear what the boy was saying. Perhaps it was because Seti was the living god, perhaps it was for other reasons he didn't understand.
Whatever the reason, he could not hear what Seti did. Pharaoh replied quietly, "He is telling them about his children. How Miranda will sometimes jump onto the bed in the morning, and neither Ardeth nor Celia are yet awake. The way Andreas perks up when he see his father. His hope that he and Celia will have more children. Ardeth is beginning to understand his freedom in this world, Suleiman."
At his grandson's confused stare, Seti sighed and explained, "Here, he is not a chieftain or a commander. Here, he is but a warrior. Here, Ardeth can be Ardeth. The man. It is not a replacement for his wife and children, but it was not meant to be. For all that the Med-jai love him, they do not understand or know him. Not the way Celia or Altair or your daughters do. Here, he can find a similar freedom to the one he enjoys with his wife."
"I never thought of it like that. I came of age in a different time, Grandfather. Ardeth's world changes so fast. And it is not finished changing, either. But you speak truly. My son is only truly free with his wife and children. But here. . .as you say. Here, his only responsibility is the duty of every warrior," Suleiman mused.
Seti looked at his grandson, saying softly, "Do not loathe yourself, Suleiman, for what you did or what you failed to do as his father. That is of help to no one, much less Ardeth. You did the best you could. Prepared him as best you could. Given what he has been through over the last thirty-two years. . .this, too, he will survive. You must have faith in him. Now, when he needs it most, you cannot withdraw that faith from him."
Suleiman replied, returning the gaze steadily, "And you, Grandfather? What will you do? I cannot stay here. I can only leave and return once more. My other children also need me." Understanding dawned on his face, as he finally understood why his grandfather didn't try to save Ardeth, more than twenty years earlier. But again, Suleiman asked, because he needed to hear the answer, "What will you do?"
"I? I will do just what I told Anck-su-namun I will do. I will watch over Ardeth, and I will protect him. I will stay here, because right now, he needs me far more than Evelyn does. She has Rick O'Connell. . .Terumun. Ardeth has no one here. Yes, he has his new friends, but Aragorn has responsibilities to people other than Ardeth. My only responsibility is to my child. Go, my grandson. I will see to Ardeth," Seti promised.
His grandson inclined his head, and then he was gone. Seti turned his attention back to Ardeth, silently apologizing to his son's reincarnation for not being there when he needed him in the past. Like when his father's trusted friend turned traitor and kidnapped the eleven year old Ardeth to force Suleiman into helping him to raise Imhotep.
Was it possible to dream in the Afterlife? Was it possible for Seti to have nightmares about that terrible time? There were times when his vision would play tricks on him, and he would see that bastard using his dagger to slice into that child's flesh. Then he would see the grown man. Images that frightened him even now. But he was here now. He was here now. . .and nothing would tear him from Ardeth's side.
He was somewhat concerned for his daughter-in-law. She was strong and capable, he knew that. She faced many trials before. His worry for her had nothing to do with her competence and everything to do with. . .simply loving her. On the other hand, she had Anck-su-namun with her. . .whatever his concubine did to him, she loved Ardath and her reincarnation ferociously. She might have betrayed him, but she would never betray Ardath or Celia.
. . .
One by one, the mothers came and collected their children. There was still wariness in each set of eyes, but wariness was better than suspicion and fear. He could appreciate wariness. Their first priority was the protection of their children, and they did not know him. The last to leave him was the first to approach him, and as her mother walked over, the little girl rose to her feet, careful to avoid any tender body parts.
She bent down and kissed his cheek, whispering, "Thank you for your stories, Ardeth. I am glad you are here with us." Ardeth smiled, realizing for the first time that he did not know her name. But she was gone before he could ask her, and Ardeth closed his eyes with a deep sigh. His bedroll was alongside the ones set up by Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn. In a strange way, he felt like a young boy, wanting to stay close to the people he knew best here.
"Do you wish for aid in returning to your bed, Ardeth?" Eowyn asked unexpectedly. Ardeth opened his eyes, startled by her voice. With a shock, he realized he almost fell asleep where he sat. That was the only explanation that made sense. Usually, he would have sensed someone that close to him. Back home, the only people who could sneak up on him were Imhotep and Anck-su-namun. . .and they were supernatural beings. Eowyn, though shieldmaiden of Rohan, was an ordinary human being, no more magickal than Ardeth.
She smiled at him, though there was a sadness in her eyes, particularly when she glanced over at Aragorn. Ardeth replied, hoping that he was wrong about the reason for that sadness, "I think it may be necessary, my Lady." Eowyn smiled as he extended his hand to her. She grasped it and pulled him upright. Ardeth fought back a groan as pain radiated through his body. He was tired and he ached all over, but had no wish to advertise that fact. Even if these people were not his enemy, he still had no wish for them to know he was in pain.
It wasn't that he distrusted Eowyn. Indeed, the lovely shieldmaiden was the only other person with whom he felt comfortable here, aside from Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. He still thought that was partially due to the fact she reminded him so very much of Aleta. During the last day, as they traveled toward this mountain fortress, however, he realized there was at least one difference between Eowyn and Aleta.
Aleta Bey Carnahan was a healer by training and by Calling. Eowyn was a warrior at heart. She longed to defend her family and her home, just as her brother did, just as her cousin did. Ardeth felt the helplessness she did when they faced the Anubis warriors in Ahm Shere. He felt that helplessness each time he helped to carry an injured warrior to the healers, and he knew there was nothing he could do in this particular battle.
He felt that helplessness again when Sanure's treachery almost killed Celia and Andreas. Aywa, he was there and he could hold his wife through the spasms of pain, but there was nothing he could do. Imhotep saved them both. Not Ardeth. To this day, he still didn't know what moment terrified him more. . .the second wave of Anubis warriors on the sands of Ahm Shere or that brief moment when Celia went limp in his arms and he thought he lost her forever.
They reached his bedroll only a few moments later. Eowyn gently eased him to the ground, and this time, Ardeth did groan. Legolas was at his side in an instant, helping Eowyn to settle him on the roll. The shieldmaiden smiled, saying softly, "I know not when I will see my brother. But this I know. . .it does not hurt so much, Ardeth of the future, with you around."
With that, she gently kissed his cheek, just as the child of a few moments earlier did. Surprised, Ardeth watched her go, and Legolas just smiled at him. Ardeth glared at the young elf, saying, "Not a word out of you, Prince of Mirkwood. I begin to understand why Gimli calls you a 'pointy-eared menace.' I am totally faithful to my Celia." The elf's smile widened as he stretched out on his own bedroll beside Ardeth's.
"I never thought otherwise," came the innocent reply. Ardeth would have laughed outright, but his wound was paining him. He pressed his hand against his gut, willing himself to fight the pain back. He was injured before. This was nothing new for him. He closed his eyes, breathing through the pain. There was a sound beside him, and he opened his eyes to find Legolas hovering over him. A half-second after that, Aragorn was at his side.
"Lie back, Ardeth, and let me see to your wound," Aragorn instructed. The younger man thought about disobeying. . .for all of two seconds. Then his practicality reasserted itself. He was sent to this world for a particular reason. He would be needed in the fight ahead. And he would be of no use if the wound became infected.
Aragorn set to work immediately, and for the first time, Ardeth noticed the stone hanging from his new friend's neck. Ardeth asked softly, "What is that?" Aragorn stopped briefly, a moment of anguish flashing briefly across his face. Legolas looked away. This. . .was not good. Ardeth briefly wished that he hadn't asked the question, but only briefly. It was a rather peculiar ornament for a man to wear. . .at least, few men he knew wore crystals of that nature.
After a moment, however, Aragorn answered in a husky voice, "It is. . . similar. . .to your cloak. The one given to you by your wife on your wedding day." Ardeth raised his eyebrows. Now that was interesting. Aragorn continued, "Your words were close to my heart for my comfort, Ardeth, when you spoke of your wife. . .a little too close. How she was not accepted by your people because she was different, because she was not of your people."
Ardeth kept silent, not knowing what to say. O'Connell would have made a flippant remark, but he wasn't O'Connell. Aragorn went on, "Her name is Arwen. Daughter of Lord Elrond of Rivendell. An elven princess, if you wish to call her that." Ardeth knew from Legolas that elves lived a very long time. And while Aragorn aged at a much slower rate, he was still at least half-human. Oh. Now he began to understand.
However, Aragorn wasn't finished. He explained, "Arwen and her people are going to Valinor. To the Undying Lands. Sauron and Saruman are poisoning this land, and the time of the elves is over. I. . . convinced her to go." Now things were sounding uncomfortably familiar to the young chieftain from the distant future. In Aragorn's words, he heard a repeat of his conversation with Evelyn on the barge, as they raced to rescue Celia from Khaldun.
Ardeth hoped there was no condemnation in his voice as he asked softly, "And why did you do that?" He asked the question, though he already knew the answer. It was the same reason he fought so hard when he realized he was falling in love with Celia. What could he offer her? He was the chieftain of his people, and he could never make her his first priority. And she deserved no less than to be first.
"Because if she remained here, she would die. I was. . .trying to be unselfish. I was trying to. . ." Aragorn replied. His voice cracked and he ducked his head. Ardeth didn't know how to answer that. He didn't know what to say. There was so much he didn't know. Aragorn mentioned Arwen's father, Elrond. He saw how Theoden was with Eowyn. He loved her as a daughter. He, too, saw the way Eowyn looked at Aragorn.
Did this Elrond, then, look at Aragorn in the same way that Theoden did? Ardeth asked slowly, "And what did Arwen want? We all die, Aragorn." The older man raised his head and looked at Ardeth, his eyes almost expressionless.
For the first time since he met Aragorn, the young chieftain couldn't read his new friend, and that worried him. Ardeth wasn't trying to judge Aragorn. Truly, he wasn't. He only wanted to understand, and perhaps help his new friend. Evelyn told him nearly two years earlier on that barge, that by taking Celia's choice from her, he would be presuming too much. Aragorn said softly, "You are right. We all die. And she wished to stay."
Ardeth thought as much. Aragorn smiled at him wearily and reached over to squeeze his shoulder, saying softly, "Your wound heals day by day, Ardeth. Sleep now. We all shall have need of it. The enemy we fight is unlike anything you have encountered before." Ardeth nodded. However, he wasn't so sure of that. While he never encountered Uruk-hai before, he did encounter the undead. Mummy priests, mummy warriors, Anubis warriors.
But there was one thing he never counted on. . .the Wargs and their riders. He discovered this the following morning. The night passed quickly, as quickly as it ever did in his own time. He fell asleep, dreaming once more of Celia. While she was never truly far from his conscious mind, Ardeth kept her in a safe place during the day. He focused on the trek to Helms Deep and watching out for ambushes.
At night, in his dreams, she was everywhere. In his dreams, in his memories. He could see her smile, hear her laughter, smell her perfume, feel her fingers in his hair. She loved to do that. Loved to run her fingers through his hair, whether they were making love or watching television. Anatol, true to form, bought them a DVD player as a wedding gift, and the O'Connells provided them with DVD's.
Ardeth, knowing how much the children liked the family time, tried to stay awake. It was never a matter of boredom. But if he stayed seated for more than a half hour, and had nothing to occupy his hands or his minds, he fell asleep. Many times. . .many times many. . .he would start out sitting upright while they watched a movie with the children. And slowly, he would slide down, until his head lay in his wife's lap.
He would doze, waking up to feel her fingers in his hair, or caressing his forehead. She would sense he was awake, and murmur, "Shhhh. . .it's all right. Go back to sleep, love." And he always did, for he knew that she was watching over them all. Eventually, however, she would gently nudge him to wake up, and lead him into their bedroom. He would be awake just long enough to make that journey, and undress, and then he would fall asleep once more.
It was something his more trusted warriors noticed. . .in the years since he met and married Celia, he seemed less weary. He slept better, lying in her arms, and he could tell her what troubled him. It was a hard thing to do, in the beginning. Ardeth was so used to protecting other people, taking the heaviest burdens for himself, that he attempted to do the same thing with Celia at first.
She, however, would have none of that. While they argued about O'Connell rather frequently, and Imhotep on occasion, they also argued about his habit of 'protecting' her. She was his wife, and she was supposed to take care of him, Celia exclaimed during one such argument, how could she do that when he wouldn't let her? It was in this way that Ardeth learned something very important.
He would have never imagined it to be so, but it took far greater strength to acknowledge that one couldn't do it alone, than it did to try to carry the burden without help. It took greater strength and greater courage to ask for help. Sometimes, it was necessary to 'go it alone.' Sometimes, there was no help to be found, and when that happened, one simply did the best job possible under the circumstances.
And the reason it took greater strength, greater courage, to ask for help came down to one simple word. Trust. Ardeth learned that when he tried to carry the burden alone, it appeared that he didn't trust Celia.
That wasn't true, of course, but once he acknowledged that. . .it became easier to remember to ask for help, even without saying the words. He still wasn't very good at asking for help. During the last few days, Ardeth found himself in the position of trusting men he barely knew with his life, with his memories. He really had no choice. They saved his life, after all. . . they and Gandalf. And they knew this world. He did not.
He was already drifting toward awareness and a new day, when a hand shook his shoulder. Unfortunately, while he was in such a state, Ardeth did not react well to being wakened if he didn't know who was doing the waking. Thus, his hand was in motion, reaching for his scimitar, before he was even fully awake. A hand settled over his, and the voice whispered, "Ardeth, be at ease! It is I, Aragorn!"
It took a half-second for Ardeth to process the voice, and realize it was Aragorn. He opened his eyes, to find the self-exiled king kneeling over him with a sheepish expression. Ardeth whispered with a sigh, "My apologies, my friend. I am afraid my instincts do not permit me to react well if an unknown person wakes me. It is why my warriors usually call my name when they wake me for my watch." Or his wife, for that matter.
"It is I who should apologize. . .twas a foolish error on my part," Aragorn replied, helping him to sit up, then stand. Ardeth glanced around, rearranging his robes, which were tangled during the night. It was early morning. . .the sun was not yet risen, but it was no earlier than when Ardeth usually awoke. Even so, most people were still not awake. The remnants of the Fellowship and the soldiers of Rohan were awakening their people.
Ardeth looked back at Aragorn, who looked very tired. The young chieftain wondered if he had dreams of his own, about his Arwen. Ardeth said casually, not wanting to draw attention to the other man's concerns, "I was thinking, Aragorn. Perhaps it is best if I walked today. I feel somewhat. . .I do not like riding a horse, when I see small children walking." Aragorn looked at him, and Ardeth added, "I have walked and fought under far worse circumstances."
Aragorn, to his surprise, did not argue. Instead, he replied, "I have been thinking the same thing. And the horses can do with the rest." Ardeth nodded his agreement, and began packing his gear once more. For a moment, he missed Celia keenly. . .for a moment, he allowed himself to think about how much he missed her. But then, with regret, he banished thoughts of his wife to the back of his mind. Dwelling on how much he missed her would do no good.
It took a little over an hour, as people stumbled to their feet and packed up their goods, then ate, but by the time the sun was risen, the people of Rohan were once more headed for their mountain fortress. Over the next few hours, Ardeth learned more about Helms Deep from Eowyn. It was hewn from stone, stone within the mountain, and had one weakness. Eowyn didn't seem to think much about this one weakness.
However, it gave Ardeth a bad feeling, and a quick glance at Aragorn told him that he was thinking the same thing. It surprised him little, for they were both warriors. One weakness, no matter how small, could wreak great destruction.
But Aragorn told him in an undertone that there was little the defenders could do to remove the weakness in question. But was that not true of most things? One could take all the precautions in the world, could do everything 'right,' and disaster could still strike. He was reminded of this as he walked at Aragorn's side, with Eowyn on the other side. Ardeth had the occasion to observe his 'little sister' over the last few days.
He witnessed her initial wariness toward Aragorn give way to interest. . . and then something more. Did she love Aragorn? Hard to say. But Ardeth knew that regardless of where Lady Arwen was, Aragorn still loved her. Doubtless, he would always love her. And Eowyn deserved to find a man who would love her. Ardeth feared, to use an American term of Celia's, that Aragorn would become involved with the shieldmaiden 'on the rebound.'
They both deserved better, and thus, when Ardeth heard Eowyn question Aragorn about the jewel he wore, he winced. He glanced over at her, and when Aragorn took a long time in answering, Eowyn returned his look. She was wondering if she should have kept silent. He could see it in her eyes, and silently begged her not to press Aragorn about the woman who gave him such a gift. It didn't work. Eowyn asked softly, "My Lord?"
At last, Aragorn answered softly, "She is sailing to the Undying Lands, with all that is left of her kin." Now Eowyn looked truly sorry for asking, and Ardeth thought he might be seeing something else in her eyes. Perhaps anger with Lady Arwen? Do not judge her, Eowyn, Ardeth silently implored the young woman, for you do not know the entire story. Neither of us do.
He remembered his own conversation with Aragorn the previous night, about Lady Arwen. Uncomfortable with the silence that fell, and with the memory of that late night conversation, Ardeth said quietly, "I will join Legolas." The blond-haired elf was in front of them. From Aragorn and Gimli, he learned that the elf prince was a tracker of some skill, for he had better vision and better hearing than his dwarf and human counterparts.
Aragorn nodded and Ardeth handed him the reins of his horse, then walked forward to join Legolas. As he reached his new friend, two of the king's men trotted past them. That didn't draw Ardeth's attention. . .he noticed it, of course, but what really drew his attention was his friend's expression. Legolas seemed. . .anxious. No, that wasn't the term he wanted, but it would have to do. He certainly seemed uncomfortable.
Ardeth was on the point of asking Legolas what troubled him when a disturbance ahead drew his attention back to the two horsemen. Legolas was running then, and Ardeth ignored the stitch in his side to accompany his friend. As they topped a hill, Ardeth was shocked to see a great, monstrous beast attacking one of the men. The other lay very still, and from here, he could not tell if the man was unconscious. . .or dead.
Legolas was already in motion, drawing an arrow from his quiver. He fired at the beast, still running. It took just one shot to fell the monster, but its rider was another story. While in flight, Legolas drew another weapon, never even making a sound as he attacked.
At his side, Ardeth kept pace, his gut clenching when he saw what remained of the motionless figure. It wasn't pretty. . .for Ardeth, who was no stranger to ugliness in any form, that was saying a great deal. Nor was the monster that killed him. He had no words to describe it, and if he weren't in the middle of a battle, he was sure his mind would have shut down. But there was a battle coming, and he needed his focus.
"What is it?" he heard Aragorn call, and turned to face the other man. Legolas was pulling his weapon free of. . .what did they call those human-like demons? Oh yes. The orcs, or the Uruk-hai. Ardeth barely suppressed a shudder as he stared down at the badly-warped body. According to Gandalf and Legolas, the first orcs were actually elves, tortured until their souls shattered and their bodies twisted into a horrible parody of what they were once.
Legolas told Aragorn, "A scout!" He kicked at the dead body, his face twisted with disgust. Even from this distance, Ardeth could see Aragorn's gray eyes widen, then the older man spun around and headed back to the king. Legolas helped the still-living man to his feet. Ardeth looked around for something, some way of covering the dead man. But the survivor had his own way. . .he covered his friend's mangled head with his own helmet.
Ardeth heard the king demand what Aragorn saw. The ranger cried out, "Wargs! We're under attack!" Legolas was already in motion, running to the next hill. Ardeth followed him, tuning out the terrified screams of the women and children. At the top of the hill, Ardeth froze. It was Ahm Shere all over again. His blood turned to ice water, and he swallowed hard. He fought the Anubis warriors. . .he could fight these Wargs, too. But he needed a horse, and Legolas said hoarsely, "Go. . .I will be fine!" Ardeth nodded, then raced after Aragorn.
. . .
"Wargs! We're under attack!"
With those words, the day that started out pleasantly enough for Eowyn turned to chaos. Much to her surprise, she slept well the previous night, though that may have been due to as much to exhaustion as anything else. She had no idea how far they walked today, but between the distance and the air, it was no wonder she was exhausted. Most of them were. Except the children. Eowyn smiled, thinking of the children sitting around Ardeth the previous night.
Then, she finally worked up the courage to ask Lord Aragorn about the jewel he wore about his neck. There was never any doubt in her mind that it was the gift of a woman. Her only question was if the woman was his mother. . .or someone else. She caught Ardeth's expression, almost as soon as the words were out and while Lord Aragorn was lost in silence.
She saw the other man gazing at her almost pleadingly. . .as if he knew the story, and wished to spare Lord Aragorn the necessity of explanations. But Eowyn came too far to back down now. She asked, "My Lord?" Ardeth's eyes closed and he dipped his head. When he opened his eyes, there was no condemnation there. Only sadness. But for her, or for Lord Aragorn? That query deepened when her question was answered.
She was going to the Undying Lands, Eowyn learned, with what remained of her family. The Undying Lands. Was that not the elven paradise, or something similar? His Lady was an elf? Perhaps the sister of Legolas? That would certainly explain the bond between the two. . .or perhaps not. If he was her brother, then would he not be with the rest of the family?
And what sort of woman left a man such as Lord Aragorn? Certainly not the same sort of woman whom Ardeth married. From her conversations with Ardeth during the last few days, she learned a great deal about his time and his family. He made her laugh with stories about his two children, Miranda and Andreas. Miranda was six years of age, and Andreas was thirteen months old. Eowyn's favorite story was a recent one. Ardeth's enemy turned ally decided to change the swaddling clothes of Ardeth's son one day, after seeing Celia do it countless times.
Eowyn, knowing quite a lot about the way men thought, could guess why. Celia, a woman, did it. . .how hard could it be? Far harder than he could have imagined. Undoing the swaddling clothes. . .or, as it was called in Ardeth's time, diaper. . .was easy. However, Andreas was not quite finished. It was unnecessary for Ardeth to say anymore. Eowyn burst out laughing, for she could guess what happened next.
The servants in the Great Hall would have never dreamed of speaking so frankly to Eowyn the child or Eowyn the woman, but the shieldmaiden sometimes listened to conversations in the kitchen. She knew about caring from babies not from experience but from such conversations. What made Eowyn laugh even harder was the man's reaction. Imhotep (the people of this time had passing strange names) wiped his face on a towel and told little Andreas, "You are just like your father!"
There were other stories, stories that made Eowyn feel all the closer to Ardeth's wife Celia. This was a woman she could understand and appreciate. Ardeth taught his wife how to fight, building on knowledge she once thought lost. Ardeth didn't expand on this, and Eowyn decided perhaps it wasn't necessary for her to know. But yes. She liked what she heard of the Med-jai queen.
Eowyn heard little of Lord Aragorn's Lady, but she wasn't nearly as sure about her as she was about Queen Celia. She and Lord Aragorn walked in silence for several moments, and Eowyn struggled to think of something to say. However, that became un-necessary when they heard a disturbance from over the ridge. Ardeth went ahead, joining Legolas when silence fell, and Eowyn prayed that he wasn't hurt. He was not. . .but as she was to learn much later, one of her own people was not so lucky. One of her people lost his life to the wargs. . .the first of many over the next few days.
As Lord Aragorn answered her uncle's demand, Eowyn heard the women and children screaming, soldiers shouting. Over the din, her uncle shouted, "All riders to the front of the column!" Eowyn held out the reins of his horse to Aragorn as he returned, which he took without a word. Ardeth was but a few steps behind him. He looked. . . Eowyn's blood ran cold. He looked disturbed. But wargs were terrifying beasts, as vicious as they were ugly.
As her uncle issued commands and the warriors rode forth, Eowyn heard another voice. Gimli. The dwarf was being propelled onto a horse, urging his helpers, "C'mon, get me up there, c'mon, I can ride!" If her world wasn't falling apart, Eowyn would have laughed at the picture the dwarf made as he struggled to balance himself on the horse.
On a ridge, the elf prince watched, a lone figure silhouetted. Aragorn was mounting his horse, while Ardeth did the same. Then Eowyn was distracted from the two warriors by her uncle, who rode up. He said urgently, "You must lead the people to Helms Deep, and make haste!" That cage of which she spoke to Lord Aragorn. . .was it only days earlier? It seemed like an eternity now. But that cage was still there, and Eowyn could feel it closing around her.
She fought it. Oh, how she fought it! For once, just for once, she longed to do something with the skills she had! She was so tired of being frail Eowyn, to be protected and shielded. She was not perhaps the fighter that Theodred was, and Eomer, but she did have skill with a blade. Lord Aragorn said so himself, when their weapons clashed in the Great Hall. Eowyn reminded her uncle, her voice half-pleading and half-defiant, "I can fight!"
"NO!" her uncle retorted angrily. The pleading was gone as Eowyn stared up at him. Now there was only defiance. His face softened, as did his voice, and he added more gently, "You must do this. . .for me." Now, it seemed like he was the one pleading with her. There was always a special bond between Eowyn and her uncle. . . when he spoke those words, 'for me,' she could not say no.
And he knew that. He looked at her one last time, almost as he did when Gandalf shattered the enchantment. 'I know your face,' he had told her, before her name returned to his mind and his lips. The king of Rohan looked away, then, and called, "Follow me!" The time for talking was over, and Eowyn had to lead her people to Helms Deep. She heard Gimli urging his horse forward, and saw him at last get it moving in the right direction.
Eowyn turned her attention to the remaining people. . .old men, old women. . .young mothers, and young children. They were farmers and blacksmiths. . .not soldiers. Her uncle was right. How could she abandon them now, when they looked to her for guidance? Eowyn called out, "Head for the Landsrath! Stay together!"
There was relief on the faces of many now. They had direction, they knew what they had to do. Eowyn took that respite and looked back to the departing warriors. Her eyes met Aragorn's, and for a long moment, they simply stared at each other. Then he turned his horse toward the ridge where Legolas waited, quickly catching up with Ardeth. Eowyn watched for a moment longer.
"Be safe, my Lord Aragorn," the young shieldmaiden whispered, "be safe, my brother from a distant time." With that blessing, that wish, that prayer spoken, Eowyn turned her attention back to her people and began herding them toward safety. She swallowed hard. In the last few days, she had her uncle returned to her, and lost her brother and her cousin. Would she now lose that uncle, and their new friends?
. . .
It took bare moments for Ardeth to return for his horse, mount up, and ride toward the coming battle. As they approached the ridge where Legolas stood alone, firing arrow after arrow at the oncoming wargs, Ardeth's heart nearly stopped. He thought perhaps he imagined this, but he did not. The setting was different, the people were different, and the enemy was different. But at the same time, the enemy was the same, for these wargs were as un-natural as the Anubis Warriors he and the Med-jai fought outside Ahm Shere two years earlier.
As the army approached the ridge, Legolas swung up behind Gimli in a movement that Ardeth could scarcely believe, though he saw it with his own eyes. Perhaps it was something he learned as a boy, perhaps it was part of the cat-like grace that came from being an elf, but it was one of the most amazing things Ardeth ever saw. He turned his attention back to the thunderous force now approaching them.
He cleared his mind, then, of everything but the battle. There was no room for wonderment or anything else. He was a warrior now, even if he was not a chieftain here. Around him, he could hear war cries screamed. . .Gondor, Rohan, elven, dwarf, and even his own Med-jai war cries were added to the din of battle. Then the two forces clashed, and it seemed to Ardeth that the confrontation sounded like a clap of thunder.
In the moments that followed, Ardeth was quickly separated from Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. He was never as rash as his brother in battle, but he took greater care than usual now, ensuring that he did not lop off the head of an ally by accident. Celia sometimes teased him, after she learned about the battle at Ahm Shere, about using his scimitar as a half-boomerang. Throwing it to take the head of an Anubis Warrior. . .then riding up to retrieve it.
Such a trick would not work here, unfortunately. A demon rode up, teeth bared in a horrible smile. The smile remained on his face as he died, Ardeth's scimitar slicing across his throat. The Med-jai lashed out with a kick from his horse, knocking the orc from the warg, then drove his scimitar into the brain of the warg. The warg collapsed, and a cry from the opposite direction drew Ardeth's attention to a new threat. He ignored the mess on his scimitar, he ignored the pain in his side, he ignored all but the fight.
One by one, each of the warg riders was either killed or driven away. A shout alerted the exhausted Med-jai that the battle was won, and Ardeth slipped from his horse. He cleaned his scimitar as best he could, then looked up as Legolas called, "Aragorn!" Ardeth began looking around for the other man, frowning when he couldn't find him. He lost track of all three of his new friends during the battle.
Gimli, who was standing near a rather large warg, glowering at it with a mixture of disgust and satisfaction, repeated, "Aragorn?" Ardeth could hear the concern in the dwarf's voice, that clipped note demanding an answer. No answer came, and the Med-jai moved quickly to Gimli's side. The dwarf looked up at him, saying with a worried smile, "Good to see you in one piece, lad. . .have you seen Aragorn?"
"And I am glad to see you well, Gimli. No, I have not seen Aragorn, not since the beginning of the battle. . .come, we will look together," Ardeth replied. Gimli nodded, the worry obvious in his eyes, and the pair began moving from body to body, fearing each time they came to a dead body that it would belong to their friend. Each time, the two breathed a soft sigh of relief. Aragorn was not among the dead. . .nor was he among the injured.
He was nowhere to be found. A little ahead of them, Legolas was standing over. . .something, or perhaps someone. Ardeth and Gimli exchanged a glance, not really paying attention to the king, who was also looking for the missing Aragorn. As they reached Legolas, Ardeth saw not Aragorn's limp body, but the twisted visage of one of their enemies. And he was dying. Even as he lay dying, he was laughing.
Ice filled Ardeth's veins as his mind refused to accept what the monster's laughter might mean. He could not speak. Could not accept that Aragorn might be gone. He had called Aragorn 'Andreas' in his delirium, and while Aragorn was old enough to be his father, if not his grandfather, Ardeth still thought of him as an older brother in this strange world. He could not speak, but that was not an affliction with which Gimli was familiar.
The dwarf growled, brandishing his axe, "Tell me what happened, and I might ease your passing!" The demon laughed still, and Ardeth could hear him choking on his own blood. His? Its? It mattered little. This demon saw what happened to Aragorn, and if Ardeth thought for one microsecond that it would bring them answers, he would shake the demon until it told them. It proved to be unnecessary, though Ardeth didn't fool himself into believing that the monster told them out of any desire to 'ease' his death.
No, the demon replied, his voice mocking even as he died, "He's dead! He took a little tumble off the cliff." Ardeth wanted to hit it then. He wanted to scream in denial and smash his fist into the thing's face until it was a bloody pulp. If Aragorn was dead, then Ardeth failed in his purpose here. And that was something he could not accept. He controlled his rage, he restrained his grief. . .
. . .For Legolas had no such inhibitions. The young elf prince grabbed the orc and shook him, snarling, "You lie!" The demon laughed again, a laugh that was choked off as he died. For that small bit of mercy, Ardeth was more thankful than he could ever admit.
Gimli whispered the prince's name and looked toward the demon's fist. There, in the palm, was the proof of his words. Ardeth closed his eyes. It was the necklace worn by Aragorn, the gift from Lady Arwen. Ardeth opened his eyes once more and saw the same realization set in for Legolas. The prince released the demon, then stalked to the cliff after removing the necklace from the foul monster's fingers.
Ardeth and Gimli exchanged a look, then the pair followed Legolas to the cliff, where Theoden was already seeking their lost friend. Ardeth's gut clenched once more, seeing the long drop and the rocks below. He didn't want to believe it. Didn't want to believe that the aid the people of Rohan so desperately needed was now lying down there somewhere, dead. And yet, Ardeth found it just as difficult to believe that Aragorn could have survived such a fall.
On the other hand. . .Ardeth saw many strange and wonderful things, things that were far more miraculous than Aragorn surviving such a fall. He should have never survived the beating and torture he received at the hands of Lock-nah and Nizam Toth. . .either time. He did. Alex O'Connell successfully resurrected his mother following her murder at the hands of Meela Nais. His ancestress and his beloved successfully merged into one being to defeat Khaldun.
Aragorn was meant for great things. If the Valar were capable of subverting Saruman's plan to bring Ardeth here and turn him into a mirror of darkness for Aragorn, if they were interested enough in aiding the people of this world by allowing him to communicate with them in their own language. . .surely they would do something to protect, to aid, one of their greatest warriors, one of the greatest hopes Middle Earth had against Saruman and Sauron?
Theoden's voice distracted him as the king said, "Get the wounded on horses. The wolves of Isengard will return. Leave the dead." Legolas looked at the king, and Ardeth winced at his expression. It was almost as if the elf was willing the king to say something else. Even from Theoden's side profile, Ardeth could see the compassion in the king's eyes as he looked at the elven prince. Just as he heard the compassion in the man's voice as he added, "Come." Legolas looked away as the king descended the hill toward the rest of his men.
Over the last few days, Ardeth picked up a few elven words and phrases, and the Med-jai stepped closer to Legolas, saying softly, "You must go, mellon nin. You are needed by the people of Rohan." Legolas looked at him, startled, and Ardeth continued in a low voice, "Give me but one horse, and I will find Aragorn. . .if only to bring his body back for burial." He put his hand on the prince's shoulder, even as Legolas shook his head. Ardeth knew it was not because of a lack of love for Aragorn. He knew better than that.
"You are wounded, Ardeth. . .by rights, you should not even be in battle. You were stabbed, your broken ribs are still healing. Aragorn would never forgive me if. . ." Legolas began. Ardeth said nothing, merely stared at the prince for a long time. After a moment, Legolas put his hand over Ardeth's, adding softly, "You are right. Warriors do battle, no matter how badly they are injured, and they do not turn away from their friends and brothers when they are needed most. Forgive me, mellon nin. I will do as you ask. Take Aragorn's horse. He is familiar with you, and with Aragorn."
"Shukran," Ardeth said softly, giving the young man's shoulder a gentle squeeze. Legolas frowned at him, and Ardeth continued with a smile, "It is 'thank you' in my language, in Arabic. Go now. If nothing else, Gimli will need your aid. Dwarves have little need to ride, I think." Now Legolas smiled at him, though his eyes were still haunted. He was afraid. . .while he and Gimli were becoming good friends, Aragorn was obviously his best friend.
"You are a good friend, Ardeth, and a good ally to have. I will go, mellon nin, but I expect you to have Aragorn back before the sun rises once more," Legolas warned. Ardeth didn't know if he could do that. . .he only knew that he had to try. If there was a way to find Aragorn, if there was a way to save his friend, Ardeth would find that way.
And if by some mischance, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, was dead, Saruman and his puppeteer Sauron would not find it so easy to conquer Middle Earth. So long as Ardeth Bey drew breath, he would stand beside Gimli, Legolas, and whatever allies Gandalf brought back with him. This he swore upon everything he held sacred as a Med-jai, as a warrior, as a chieftain, and as a man. He would not let Middle Earth fall.