This is a chapter I've had trouble with for a long time. Hope it was worth the effort:) Thanks so much to everyone, I luv you all, and I am so grateful!!!:):):) ~Buff
Chapter 23
"I'll Be Seeing You Again"
"Achsu-rai!" came the yell, almost from the other side of the camp. From the man's tone of voice he could tell it was urgent. Something that couldn't wait. What could be so important that it couldn't wait until...
Imhotep. It had to be about Imhotep.
A Medjai skidded to a halt in front of Achsu-rai and doubled over. Sweat gleamed on his dark Nubian skin in the hot afternoon sun; he'd obviously run from a great distance. "Achsu-rai," he said, "we--it's--"
"Et-nan, what is it? Speak, man!"
The young Medjai still struggled to catch his breath but finally answered his leader. "We--we found him. Imhotep, we found him."
"What? Where is he?"
"They've killed the embalmers, he took her body."
"Whose body?"
"Anck-su-namun. He stole her corpse."
"What does he plan to do with it?"
"Achsu-rai, we think he's--we think he's headed toward Hamunaptra."
"Why Hamunaptra?" Then it hit him. "Oh, by the gods....the Book of the Dead."
Khalil had volunteered immediately as soon as he'd heard. Achsu-rai had expected nothing less, of course, but was nonetheless impressed with his eagerness. He'd been quite helpful in drawing together the chariots they required for the journey to Hamunaptra, knowing they could afford to waste no time.
As the Medjai assembled, Khalil called Achsu-rai over. "Something wrong?" the latter asked his brother.
"Achsu-rai...What are we going to do to him?"
"Ramses has ordered the Hom Dai."
Achsu-rai saw fear in Khalil's eyes, and he could not help but feel the same. "What is he going to do?" asked Khalil. "With the book?"
"We believe he will attempt to raise Anck-su-namun from the dead."
"And that is why he must be cursed."
"It is a mortal sin. The gods will not be pleased."
"But..." Khalil shook his head. "Never mind."
"What?"
"It's just...He is only a man in love. Why should we fault him for that?"
Struck by the simplicity of his words, Achsu-rai had nothing to say to this. He saw something new in his brother's face. The anxiety was still there. He was still a child, no doubt about that. But something else...Wisdom, maybe, or its beginning at least. "Let us not forget," Achsu-rai finally replied, "that he also murdered our Pharaoh. For that there can be no redemption."
"Of course." Khalil nodded and jumped into the chariot. Achsu-rai joined him on the seat and tried to set his thoughts to the task ahead. A most difficult task it would be, indeed.
They were keeping him in a little room off the preparation chamber, where he could hear the screams. Achsu-rai wondered as he entered whose brilliant idea that had been. Not that he didn't deserve every discourtesy, but still...
"News from the front, Medjai?" growled Imhotep. "Has the pharaoh decided my fate? I am to die, am I not?"
"Ramses has ordered the Hom Dai," said Achsu-rai. Too disgusted with the man to look at him, Achsu-rai nonetheless heard Imhotep's sharp intake of breath as he heard the news. No, a man no longer. A monster.
Then, out of the corner of his vision, Achsu-rai caught...
Imhotep's eyes. Terrified. Pleading. The arrogance, the confidence, of the high priest was gone, replaced by raw human terror. Looking at him Achsu-rai felt the terror seep into his own veins, felt the unwelcome emotion of pity creep in. No, he thought, shaking it off once and for all. He would not allow himself to feel pity for the priest, never. There is no excuse for what he did. Even if he did it for love. No. Imhotep has no right to call it love, not when the price he exchanged it for was the life of an innocent man...a pharaoh...
Achsu-rai couldn't fight the other emotion that was rising in him, however...terror, blinding terror, to equal Imhotep's... He couldn't help but wonder if Imhotep had traded his shot at happiness not only for the lives of himself, the pharaoh, and their lover....but for all of them. Were they already trapped in the cycle of destruction? Helpless to the coming apocalypse?
"Something wrong, Medjai?" asked Imhotep, and the none-too-welcome condescension had returned. "You look conflicted. Second thoughts?"
"I do not pretend to be sorry for your life. That you deserve to lose. But your soul...I would beg for it if I could."
"I do not need the help of a Medjai to beg for my soul. I can do that myself."
"I fear it will do no good. For that I am truly sorry."
"And I feel sorry for you, too, Medjai. You and that princess of yours. I wonder what other tragedies lie in store for you."
"And you, a condemned man, think you know more than we do?"
Imhotep smiled. "I know more than you could hope to. I see what my future holds; yours is not so clear."
"A punishment of hellish eternal torment will do that for a man."
"Eternal?" Imhotep laughed. "There is no such thing. We can only hope we are granted a moment in this world. Not even an eternity is enough time. Death is only the beginning, though, is it not? You told me that, Medjai. I wonder if you knew how right you were."
A Medjai peeked through the doorway. "Achsu-rai?" he said. "They're ready."
"Thank you, Et-nan." Achsu-rai turned back to Imhotep. "Any last words?"
Imhotep smiled. "We will meet again, Medjai. We will speak then, I am sure."
Achsu-rai looked him in the eye, and in that moment banished any pity he had ever felt for the man. "If we meet again," said Achsu-rai, "I will kill you."
Imhotep tipped his head in mock concurrence to the Medjai's statement, that terrible smile still affixed to his face. The guards surrounded Imhotep and dragged him to his feet, and so it began.
They returned home as the day broke. Some hearts were heavy with guilt, doubt; others dismissed the act as duty, as cause and consequence. One, however, had even more on his mind. A man's dying words, a prophecy coming to pass before his eyes, the weight of a terrible mistake bearing down on his future. On all their futures.
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