Title: The Sphere of Ma'at
Author: TheDreamyOne
Email: sdjolly@bellsouth.net
Archive: ffnet and The Pharaoh's Palace only.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ardeth finds himself in the company of a woman the tribal elders insists holds the fate of the world in her hands. Duty demands he put her to death...will his heart allow it?
Disclaimer: The Mummy, The Mummy Returns, Ardeth Bay...belong to Universal, Stephen Sommers, etc. No infringements intended. All original characters are property of the author.
Chapter One
1935 Cairo, Egypt
The clay colored stone walls of her small room seemed to be closing in on her as if trying to suffocate the life from her. Banished to her room hours before by her unforgiving Uncle Ackmed, she gazed out of the pitiful excuse for a window that was more like a small slit in the wall. Darkness had fallen and the streets were lined with glowing lanterns. The music played merrily below her in the reception area of her uncle's hotel.
She sighed heavily, wishing her life had been anything other than what it had turned out to be. Her parents had died during a terrible sandstorm while traveling to Cairo when she was ten years of age. Since there had been no other family, she was sent to live with her uncle.
Ackmed Zaghloul had made it clear from the moment she had arrived at his doorstep that she was not welcome. She would only be staying because it was his duty to his brother to take in his niece, she would receive food and shelter, but she would never receive love. It was hard to believe she had been living without affection for fourteen long years; each day she prayed for a change and each day brought more of the same.
She often wondered why her parents had never mentioned her uncle and she soon discovered the reason. Because her father Farouk bin Ahmed Zaghloul had dared married her mother, Zariah bint Rashid bin Wasef Hassan, his family had disowned her father. She overheard her uncle saying horrible things about her mother and her family after she arrived at his doorstep in Cairo. She did not understand why he hated her so much, until she herself turned twelve.
How she longed for the modest home she shared with her parents in Giza. She loved the view of the pyramids from her bedroom window. Her parents did not follow the normal accepted social standards that were expected by Egyptian society; explorers and scholars both, they had set their own rules. Because of their eccentric ways, their daughter was not raised within the confines of Egyptian society.
She heard heavy footsteps on the stairs outside her door and brought her thoughts to the present. She moved over to the floor length mirror in the corner of her sparsely furnished room. She was not happy with her appearance and the part she was forced to play within her uncle's household. For no other reason than that he was family, she reluctantly let him exploit her.
She straightened the coin-encrusted brassiere, which also featured loops of tiny bells underneath the cups, over the purple, silky, sheer material of her long-sleeved choli. The matching hip belt that laid on top of the purple harem pants she wore contained four rows of matching coins with loops of tiny bells underneath. The harem pants were made of the same silky material as the choli, however, only the leg portion was transparent. She thought that was a bit redundant since the legs were slit on both sides and held in place at her ankles by coin and bell encrusted anklets. Bracelets on both wrists matched the anklets. Large loop earrings and a headpiece containing a medallion fixed in the center of her forehead completed her wardrobe.
Were it not for her sapphire blue eyes and just slightly lighter complexion than her fellow Egyptians and her height, five foot nine inches, one would never suspect that Najya's grandfather, her mother's father, was an American. That was another strike against her mother, as far as her father's family had been concerned. Her face was slightly oval, with a straight, thin nose, well-defined cheekbones, and a set of full lips that begged to be kissed. That was what the hotel patrons said, at any rate.
The door to her bedroom opened abruptly without a knock. Her uncle had told her time and again that within his household he was master and knocked for no one. "Niece, we have company. You will come down to the lounge now," he ordered. He held a look of disgust for his niece. "Your feet are bare. Cover them!" He slammed the door behind him.
Shaking her head, the bells of the headpiece tinkling happily, she slid her feet into a pair of purple silk slippers. She could not understand her uncle. He cared that her feet were bare, but did not care that most of her body was exposed unreservedly for his customers. Oh, how she detested that man.
She padded down the stairs and made her way to the lounge. The bells that tinkled with her every movement announced her presence to the occupants of the room.
"Ah!" Ackmed exclaimed. "Here is my darling niece now!"
Confused, Najya merely stared at him. Why he was saying these falsehoods, she did not understand.
"Najya, come, come!"
He motioned for her to come closer to the area where he sat with several men. She had a very bad feeling about this meeting.
"As you said," a finely dressed man said, "she is very beautiful."
"Yes, yes. Have you made a decision then?" Ackmed asked hopefully.
She opened her mouth to speak but, before she could, her uncle shot her a hateful look that told her she was not welcome to speak at this meeting. Damned Egyptian social standards!
"I have," the man said simply. "We will collect her this night." He stood and left the room in a flourish of silken robes. The two men who trailed behind him bowed slightly to her uncle before they left.
Her gaze followed the men from the room before turning back to her uncle. "What is the meaning of this? What do they mean 'they will collect her'? What have you done, my uncle?" Her voice was frantic, her gaze wild. No good would come from this, she was sure.
"You are no longer my problem, Najya bint Farouk bin Ahmed Zaghloul. Allah has sent the Khalifa of Dulkadir to deliver you and your evil ways from my sight," he explained. His voice dripped of bitter hatred.
Najya stared, opened mouthed. "What have I ever done, Uncle, that you would treat me this way? I have done all that you have asked, including degrading myself for your business. I have done all in the name of family and still you treat me worse than a stray dog."
"Niece, there is naught left to say. You will leave this eve with the Khalifa's caravan returning to Dulkadir. Return to your room and wait there. You will take nothing with you from your room save what you came to this place with," he ordered.
Najya gasped in disbelief. She turned and ran up to her room, slamming the door behind her. She had just been sold into slavery! It was time to put an end to this life forever; she would run away, back to Giza where she longed to return. No one could stop her; no one could touch her if she dared use...
She sensed her immediately; the electric crackle of psychic energy that illuminated her essence. It had been nearly a year since her last visitation. "Hello, Mother," she greeted the apparition with a gentle smile.
"Daughter, you are more lovely than I remembered." She reached out to touch her daughter's cheek.
Najya felt the surge of energy and smiled. "Mother, you did not come all this way to flatter me."
"No, Daughter. I did not. Your thoughts trouble the goddess. She wishes for you to stay on this path, if for just a short while longer," Zariah insisted.
Najya sat down hard on the bed, the bells on her outfit tinkling loudly. "I do not understand, Mother. Uncle has sold me into slavery and the goddess wishes me to go?"
Zariah smiled her motherly smile. "Have faith, Daughter. The goddess assures that no harm will come to you. You will be contacted when the time is right. Until then, know that I love you and carry that love with you."
"Always, Mother," Najya responded as the essence faded and the light in the room became dim once more.
~~~
To be continued...