CHAPTER EIGHT
Carnahan O'Connell estate, September 17, 1940, early morning
"Arrdddeth!" Evie screamed and suddenly threw off the coverlet of the bed she and Rick were sharing. The Luftwaffe, created just four years ago, had proven quite efficient in their daily (and nightly) bombings of London.
"Honey! What's wrong with Ardeth?" Rick asked, sitting up and putting his arms around his wife.
In a shaking voice, Evie replied, "It's Seth's dream again. He's telling me he's drowned Ardeth! Rick! What shall we do?"
"Shhhh. I sent Ardeth a telegram. He'll be all right."
"No. I don't think he'll be all right," Evie retorted. "Seth is dangerous!"
"Why won't he be all right?"
"His lips were blue," Evie replied definitively.
"Evie, you're reading too much into Seth's dreams. Ardeth is all right. I can't explain it, but somehow I know he's all right," Rick said, pulling his wife down onto the bed so he could hug her to him.
But Evie sat up and threw off the covers. "We're awake, we might as well get up," she said petulantly. She was feeling miffed at being used by Seth.
"Ardeth will be all right. This is Ardeth we're talking about," Rick said definitively. "And you're right," he said, his voice softening, "we might as well get up. We've got a lot of people to help feed. Damn the Luftwaffe for taking out sixteen stations and three rail lines."
"Mummy? Daddy?" Alex's voice called faintly. "I've found a huge store of sugar, tea, flour, rice, oatmeal, biscuits, tinned meat, you name it!"
"Huh?" Rick and Evie said to each other simultaneously. "What was that Alex?" Rick shouted.
"Food!" came back the reply.
Tears burned hotly in Evie's eyes. "Seems like Tallulah stored up some things before she," Evie started to say, but she couldn't finish her sentence.
"She was helping to save others, Evie, by donating blood. I'm sure she found her way to the Afterlife," Rick gently told his wife. Tallulah, their housemaid, could not bear to stand by and watch the bombings daily with all the wounded. She had been an ambulance driver in France during the first World War and she had immediately organized a blood drive, considering it her patriotic duty.
The thirty eight year old Tallulah had been killed by shrapnel two days previously on her way to the Red Cross center. She'd died instantly. Rick was going to miss her terribly; she had been, simply put, a most efficient maid.
"It's not fair!" Evie protested, falling into Rick's arms.
"Sweetheart, it's impossible for all of us to stay on the estate all the time," he told her gently.
"I know! I just wish Ardeth would arrive. He would know what to do!"
Rick held his wife, stroking her dark curly hair, and soon Evie's sobs quieted.
______________________________________________
Tripoli, Souk (marketplace), September 17, dusk
Sunburned, tired, thirsty and hungry were four adjectives Martin and Ardeth were willing to use as they straggled into the outskirts of the sea city of Tripoli. The sights and especially the smells of the souks were welcoming.
The two men fell hungrily upon the first food stall they could find. Libya had, in times past, been invaded and occupied by Italy. Although the Libyans didn't take kindly to the invading Italians, Italian food was well loved by the Libyans, and the smells of lasagna and spaghetti filled Ardeth's and Martin's senses.
"Masa' al-kheir. Salaam aleikum. Do you speak English?" a young male voice said behind them.
Ardeth and Martin turned. "Aleikum as-salaam," Ardeth responded. "Yes, I speak English."
Martin said, "And I am English. From London."
The teenager nodded. "My name is Achmed. I am going to go to Oxford University and I wish to practice my English. It is very strange but everyone I meet who is from England, they are from London."
Martin laughed. "Yes. It does seem that way doesn't it?"
Ardeth cut in, "Do you work here? We would like to order a meal."
"Yes. This is my father's cafe. If you wish to bathe and change, there are showers behind that door. My father is very devout and likes cleanliness. So he provides these things to our customers in case they wish to be as clean as he does. You," he indicated Martin, "will need sunburn cream. I will ask my sister for some."
"Thank you, Achmed." The two men went to shower and change. Martin came out of the shower to find a large jar of sunburn cream, which he applied liberally before changing into a fresh set of clothing provided by Achmed.
Ardeth had changed into a pair of white cotton pants and a turquoise tunic. He noticed Martin looking at his new set of clothes. "I know," was all Ardeth said. "I will have my own clothes cleaned."
Martin nodded as the two men went back through the door into the small outdoor cafe. A table was set for them already, with bowls of couscous, vegetables, meat, spaghetti. Most importantly on the table were large pitchers of cold water, although both Martin and Ardeth had drunk water from the sink faucet.
Achmed was standing beside the table, smiling, his white teeth gleaming in the encroaching dusk. "I had thought you two would be more than a bit hungry, so I laid out your dinner."
"Shukran. Thank you," Ardeth said, sitting down.
"Yes, thank you," Martin said as he too sat down to enjoy the meal Achmed had provided for them.
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The Underworld, Sometime in Eternity (scuttlebutt has the date near late September 1940)
Pain seared his soul. He'd lost count of the times the demons devoured him. Demons in the underworld didn't consume souls just once--the underworld was eternity and when he'd dived into the underworld, he'd known what would happen: time would slow and astrological ages would march on but time would seem to stand still for him.
Welcome to the underworld.
Eventually, he too would transform into a demon and would shove other demons aside in his zeal to reach the new arrivals first.
A dim light burned his eyes. The pain of the demons' knashing teeth lessened and then disappeared entirely.
That action was unusual enough to cause him to raise his head towards the dim light. He saw a gaping hole with a golden shimmering light and the threads of his memory recalled that the golden light represented Nuit.
What catastrophe had happened for an Egyptian god to throw a soul directly into the underworld? The Gods usually did not accompany doomed souls to the underworld--they preferred to let souls be weighed against Ma'at and let the doomed soul be devoured by Ammit, the crocodile headed monster.
Then the soul would face the demons alone. For eternity.
Despite the plagues he'd imposed upon her (she had risen from plagues before), despite his previous transgressions, he cared deeply about his beloved Egypt--his desert home--and he would do anything to ensure she survived.
He stood up as best he could. He straightened his loincloth and went to interrogate the new arrival.
Carnahan O'Connell estate, September 17, 1940, early morning
"Arrdddeth!" Evie screamed and suddenly threw off the coverlet of the bed she and Rick were sharing. The Luftwaffe, created just four years ago, had proven quite efficient in their daily (and nightly) bombings of London.
"Honey! What's wrong with Ardeth?" Rick asked, sitting up and putting his arms around his wife.
In a shaking voice, Evie replied, "It's Seth's dream again. He's telling me he's drowned Ardeth! Rick! What shall we do?"
"Shhhh. I sent Ardeth a telegram. He'll be all right."
"No. I don't think he'll be all right," Evie retorted. "Seth is dangerous!"
"Why won't he be all right?"
"His lips were blue," Evie replied definitively.
"Evie, you're reading too much into Seth's dreams. Ardeth is all right. I can't explain it, but somehow I know he's all right," Rick said, pulling his wife down onto the bed so he could hug her to him.
But Evie sat up and threw off the covers. "We're awake, we might as well get up," she said petulantly. She was feeling miffed at being used by Seth.
"Ardeth will be all right. This is Ardeth we're talking about," Rick said definitively. "And you're right," he said, his voice softening, "we might as well get up. We've got a lot of people to help feed. Damn the Luftwaffe for taking out sixteen stations and three rail lines."
"Mummy? Daddy?" Alex's voice called faintly. "I've found a huge store of sugar, tea, flour, rice, oatmeal, biscuits, tinned meat, you name it!"
"Huh?" Rick and Evie said to each other simultaneously. "What was that Alex?" Rick shouted.
"Food!" came back the reply.
Tears burned hotly in Evie's eyes. "Seems like Tallulah stored up some things before she," Evie started to say, but she couldn't finish her sentence.
"She was helping to save others, Evie, by donating blood. I'm sure she found her way to the Afterlife," Rick gently told his wife. Tallulah, their housemaid, could not bear to stand by and watch the bombings daily with all the wounded. She had been an ambulance driver in France during the first World War and she had immediately organized a blood drive, considering it her patriotic duty.
The thirty eight year old Tallulah had been killed by shrapnel two days previously on her way to the Red Cross center. She'd died instantly. Rick was going to miss her terribly; she had been, simply put, a most efficient maid.
"It's not fair!" Evie protested, falling into Rick's arms.
"Sweetheart, it's impossible for all of us to stay on the estate all the time," he told her gently.
"I know! I just wish Ardeth would arrive. He would know what to do!"
Rick held his wife, stroking her dark curly hair, and soon Evie's sobs quieted.
______________________________________________
Tripoli, Souk (marketplace), September 17, dusk
Sunburned, tired, thirsty and hungry were four adjectives Martin and Ardeth were willing to use as they straggled into the outskirts of the sea city of Tripoli. The sights and especially the smells of the souks were welcoming.
The two men fell hungrily upon the first food stall they could find. Libya had, in times past, been invaded and occupied by Italy. Although the Libyans didn't take kindly to the invading Italians, Italian food was well loved by the Libyans, and the smells of lasagna and spaghetti filled Ardeth's and Martin's senses.
"Masa' al-kheir. Salaam aleikum. Do you speak English?" a young male voice said behind them.
Ardeth and Martin turned. "Aleikum as-salaam," Ardeth responded. "Yes, I speak English."
Martin said, "And I am English. From London."
The teenager nodded. "My name is Achmed. I am going to go to Oxford University and I wish to practice my English. It is very strange but everyone I meet who is from England, they are from London."
Martin laughed. "Yes. It does seem that way doesn't it?"
Ardeth cut in, "Do you work here? We would like to order a meal."
"Yes. This is my father's cafe. If you wish to bathe and change, there are showers behind that door. My father is very devout and likes cleanliness. So he provides these things to our customers in case they wish to be as clean as he does. You," he indicated Martin, "will need sunburn cream. I will ask my sister for some."
"Thank you, Achmed." The two men went to shower and change. Martin came out of the shower to find a large jar of sunburn cream, which he applied liberally before changing into a fresh set of clothing provided by Achmed.
Ardeth had changed into a pair of white cotton pants and a turquoise tunic. He noticed Martin looking at his new set of clothes. "I know," was all Ardeth said. "I will have my own clothes cleaned."
Martin nodded as the two men went back through the door into the small outdoor cafe. A table was set for them already, with bowls of couscous, vegetables, meat, spaghetti. Most importantly on the table were large pitchers of cold water, although both Martin and Ardeth had drunk water from the sink faucet.
Achmed was standing beside the table, smiling, his white teeth gleaming in the encroaching dusk. "I had thought you two would be more than a bit hungry, so I laid out your dinner."
"Shukran. Thank you," Ardeth said, sitting down.
"Yes, thank you," Martin said as he too sat down to enjoy the meal Achmed had provided for them.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Underworld, Sometime in Eternity (scuttlebutt has the date near late September 1940)
Pain seared his soul. He'd lost count of the times the demons devoured him. Demons in the underworld didn't consume souls just once--the underworld was eternity and when he'd dived into the underworld, he'd known what would happen: time would slow and astrological ages would march on but time would seem to stand still for him.
Welcome to the underworld.
Eventually, he too would transform into a demon and would shove other demons aside in his zeal to reach the new arrivals first.
A dim light burned his eyes. The pain of the demons' knashing teeth lessened and then disappeared entirely.
That action was unusual enough to cause him to raise his head towards the dim light. He saw a gaping hole with a golden shimmering light and the threads of his memory recalled that the golden light represented Nuit.
What catastrophe had happened for an Egyptian god to throw a soul directly into the underworld? The Gods usually did not accompany doomed souls to the underworld--they preferred to let souls be weighed against Ma'at and let the doomed soul be devoured by Ammit, the crocodile headed monster.
Then the soul would face the demons alone. For eternity.
Despite the plagues he'd imposed upon her (she had risen from plagues before), despite his previous transgressions, he cared deeply about his beloved Egypt--his desert home--and he would do anything to ensure she survived.
He stood up as best he could. He straightened his loincloth and went to interrogate the new arrival.
