TITLE:  "CAPTIVE SOUL"

AUTHOR:  Ardeth Saunders

RATING:  R [Language, Violence, Sexual Situations]

SUMMARY:  After aiding shipwrecked English passengers, Ardeth and his men begin the long journey home, soon discovering that they are not alone.

GENRE:  Drama/Romance

DISCLAIMER:  The character Ardeth Bay, The Mummy, and The Mummy Returns belong to Universal Studios and Steve Somers.  NO infringement intended.  All other original characters belong solely to the vivid, sick, and twisted imagination of the author. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  As always, a brief shout-out goes to Shelley for her endless brainstorming IM sessions!  I'm surprised you're not sick of me, keed.  Also, you will see the names Tarita and Tehotu occasionally.  I borrowed them from Marlon Brando's biography.  He was married to a Tahitian lady named Tarita and has a son named Tehotu.  Anyway, just wanted to give credit where credit is due.

*  *  *

BEFORE THE STORM

She gazed down at the diary she had kept since the age of eight.  She smiled a little at the change in her writing ability over the years.  My daddy gave me this diary.  Today is my birthday.  It's January 8, 1916.  I don't know how often I'll write in you, but I really liked the gift.  Love, Laurel Sesha Aciquilla [pronounced Ack-ah-willy].  Laurel had written a new entry today.  It was once again her birthday, but today she was nineteen, not eight.  She had only put entries in the diary on 'her day,' as her mother put it.  In the next room, she could hear her little brothers fighting like wild cats.  She groaned, knowing that in the next couple of minutes, her mother would start screaming at the boys from the bottom of the stairs instead of separating them.  They would remain quiet for five minutes and then tangle up again.  It seemed to be an unending cycle.  She glanced down at what she had written earlier and it didn't make any sense.  Of course it didn't help that her brothers were currently trying to kill each other.  As if on cue, her mother began to scream up at the boys.  Laurel rolled her eyes.  She could just picture her mother with her tiny body stationed downstairs and screaming out at the top of her lungs.  Predictably, the boys piped down immediately.  She sat silently, nearly counting out the seconds.  This was an old game with her brothers and mother.  They began screaming again just moments later.  At times, she didn't like living with her family.  They drove her nuts. 

Her mother and father held onto their children with iron arms, refusing to let go for anything.  Laurel wanted to go to school in the states, but Tarita and Tehotu Aciquilla wouldn't hear of it.  It wasn't that they couldn't afford it; they simply didn't want to untie the apron strings.  She heard a thumping noise and groaned aloud.  This was her birthday, but her brothers didn't seem to give a damn.  As it stood, neither did her parents.  Laurel quickly glanced at the clock and noticed that she didn't have much time to get ready for the party tonight.  She hadn't wanted to have a birthday party, she felt it something more apt for a child.  Yet, the whole thing had been her father's idea.  He was encouraging Laurel to meet young men and she realized that most of her friends were already married, a couple of them mothers.  She had no desire to be tied down quite yet.  She was a young girl ahead of her time.  Although the family called England home, it seemed to be some weird Tahitian law that the eldest daughter had to be married off as soon as possible.  Sighing, she closed the diary and set it aside.  Her fate wasn't a fair one.  She approached the mannequin that held the dress she was to wear tonight.  She supposed it was her first 'grownup' dress, but she wasn't sure if she liked it.  Her mother, of course, had picked it out.  It was a straight-line dress with no discernable waist.  It wasn't one simple color, but a conglomeration of several colors to make the chiffon fabric appear to be quilted together.  It was sleeveless but came with black elbow gloves and a ridiculous looking flapper'ish headband.  Laurel had too much hair for that.  She stripped the dress off the mannequin and carried it over to the full-length mirror bolted to her bedroom door.  At the same time, she examined herself.  She was a tall girl, almost five feet eight inches tall.  Her dark hair was wavy, thick, and hung past her buttocks, framing her oval face and offsetting her sharp chin.  She hated her nose most of all.  It was a bit on the broad side, a clear link to her Polynesian heritage, but she thought it made her face off balance somehow.  Her almond shaped eyes were blue-green and often changed colors to go along with her moods.  As she gazed at her reflection, she realized that she didn't look much like her mother, father, or brothers.  Dad was only around five feet six, Mom two inches shorter, and they had the jet-black hair and dark brown eyes of their forebears.  She often wondered which member of her family tree had given her such different hair, eyes, and face.  She made a face in the mirror.  The dress was hideous and her mother had pushed her to get her hair cut short, as was all the rage these days.  She had no intention of doing that, either.  She undressed and slipped into the dress.  It looked as hideous on her as it did on the mannequin.  As she listened to the screams, thuds, and thumps in her brothers' bedroom, she continued to prepare herself for the party.  Perhaps if it started early, it would be over early.

Laurel had just finished dressing when she heard a gentle knock at the door.  It would be Mother, she was certain.  When she opened the door, of course, her intuition was right.  Tarita Aciquilla stood back and stared at her eldest child.  She looked stunning in her flapper dress.  Tehotu had thrown a fit, of course, but she thought it flattered the girl and enhanced the fact that she was an adult.  Tonight, she would meet many eligible men, but Tarita wasn't ready to let go of her little girl.  The only thing that she frowned upon in regards to her appearance was her hair.  Laurel refused to cut it and wouldn't wear it up unless she was forced.  Her daughter was so different, so completely her own person.  It almost made her sad.  However, Tarita would hold onto her daughter for as long as she could.  Tarita stared at her daughter, drinking in her almost aqua eyes and they instantly brought back images best left in the past. 

"Your father wants to present you.  You are aware of that, aren't you," Tarita asked through a clipped English accent.  In the back of her mind, she knew Laurel was a bit older than most girls who were 'presented.'  However, the men attending had no idea they were being selected as models for her daughter to pick as if she were shopping for one those new fangled motorcars.

Laurel nodded.  "I understand, Mother.  Would it matter if I said I wasn't interested in getting married or staying here?  Please rethink your decision about allowing me to go away to school.  I sincerely don't want to follow the path of my friends.  Is that so wrong?"

Tarita shook her head.  "You know your father."  She said nothing more.  Instead, she turned her back and left the room.

*  *  *

Reginald Portafoy gave himself one more glance in the mirror before making his leave to the Aciquilla residence.  He was dressed sharply in a jet-black tuxedo, starched white shirt, an equally starched white collar, and a perfect crisp bow tie.  Although he was nearly thirty, he wasn't a bad looking sort.  He stood well over six feet tall with a slender, yet muscular build.  His dark hair was very thick and he wasn't one to wear it in the slicked back style of the day.  He enjoyed having it tumble about his face.  A mid-size nose, full lips, and dark brown eyes set off his round face.  He did not possess the conventional looks of a man in this age, but he didn't care.  There weren't many people in London who would actually dare say anything unkind.  Reginald was not a nice man, although on the outside he appeared very harmless.  He was ruthless, a sort of semi-wealthy vagabond, if that could be possible, and he relied on scavenging [stealing] for a living.  Of course, most of his employees did the stealing for him.  It made no difference one way or another.  Tonight would seal his fate, he hoped, for the rest of his life.

He turned away from the mirror and glanced down vacantly at the party invitation.  He had no real desire to attend the birthday party of some nineteen-year-old neophyte.  However, he did have a hunger for wealth and power.  Tehotu Aciquilla had both.  Although his race and ethnicity should have made him a second-class citizen, he was not.  Reginald couldn't imagine how much money the asshole was worth, but he knew it was a lot.  He remembered the day he had first met Aciquilla.  Reginald had been nosing around in one of his galleries [looking for something to steal] and had struck up a conversation with the man.  Reginald listened as Aciquilla discussed his businesses, his art galleries, and other various dealings around Great Britain and in the states.  It had taken him five seconds to realize that he wanted to get to know this man better.  Reginald began visiting daily, refusing to rob his new friend, but was often asking Aciquilla to take him on as an investor.  Aciquilla was reluctant, of course, but eventually relented, which led to Reginald's becoming semi-wealthy. 

From day one, Reginald knew that Aciquilla was grooming him to become his son-in-law.  He spoken often of his daughter, Laurel, and had shown him pictures of the girl.  She was certainly lovely, and he could only imagine what he could do to her.  Yet, he kept his cool, and listened as his newfound rich friend told him stories here and there about his daughter.  He and his wife were eager to marry off Laurel.  She was almost nineteen and had yet to marry and produce heirs.  Aciquilla needed heirs if his businesses were to go on.  Reginald didn't give one ripe fig about getting married [in fact, the thought was completely distasteful], but the thought of all that money sent him reeling.  Of course, the girl would be good for a few jollies here and there.  If a child came of it, who was he to argue?  If it meant getting millions of pounds, he'd give the old fart thirty heirs if he so desired.  Aciquilla came from the old school thought of whatever the daughter had became the husband's the moment she said 'I do.'  Again, Reginald couldn't argue that point, either.  That simple thought brought on an ache in his groin no woman could ever produce.

Aciquilla had told him about his daughter's birthday party a few days ago and had hand delivered an invitation.  Honestly, Reginald would have rather sat on a hot poker than attended the party, but if his rich friend wanted him to meet his precious, virginal daughter tonight, then so be it.  He could humble himself enough.  Besides, perhaps he could cop a feel or two during the party.  He heard Laurel Aciquilla could dance like an angel.  When the grandfather clock in the corner chimed the hour, he knew it was time to get moving.  He didn't want to make Tehotu Aciquilla wait. 

*  *  *

Laurel Aciquilla paced nervously in front of her mirror nine dozen times.  She hated the way she looked.  Downstairs, she could hear tons of partygoers milling about and having a grand old time.  She didn't doubt for one moment that none of her friends would be in attendance.  Of course, this wasn't exactly a birthday party, either.  She sighed when she heard the soft tap on her bedroom door.  It was her mother again.  It's time to put on a big fake smile and walk downstairs to face a bunch of people I've never met.  She opened her door and faced her smiling mother.  Her mother, fashionably dressed with waved hair, held out her hand.  More than irritated, Laurel took her hand and allowed her mother to lead her downstairs as if she were a child.  As she expected, she knew absolutely no one amongst the crowd.  Most of the people were over twenty, a majority over thirty, and the rest hovering between life and death.  Why had her parents mislead her?  Why hadn't they been honest about this party?  They could have said, 'we want to present you, dear,' or 'we're trying to find a husband for you, love.'  However, they hid their true motives behind the guise of a grand birthday party.

One of the first people who saw her was Reginald Portafoy.  Her pictures hadn't done her justice.  Suddenly, the tightening in his groin began without the thought of money.  Jesus, just the thought of what he could to do her.  Vivid, pornographic images began to swim in his mind, and it didn't take a scholar to discern that she was as pure as the driven snow.  Tehotu Aciquilla wouldn't dare have a daughter if she weren't.  That thought made his blood boil even more.  Oh yes.  He would marry her.  He would marry her if only to deflower her before tossing her aside for his regular parade of women.  It was like a new adventure, one he hadn't taken in a very long time.  She was dressed rather elegantly in a straight waist flapper-type dress that looked absolutely hideous on her [she had tossed off the black elbow gloves].  Her wavy/curly hair was exquisite, though, and he could imagine snaking his hands within it and pulling it hard as she devoured him with her full, sensuous lips.  Aciquilla promised him that he would introduce him first to his daughter.  Reginald was the chosen man, and by God, Laurel would take him as her husband, and then he would take her.  He might take her before marriage, especially if he had his way.

Tarita, Tehotu, and Laurel approached Reginald first [just as he had predicted] and a happy smile was on Tehotu's face.  Yet, the girl wasn't smiling.  However, she was close enough for Reginald to discern another irresistible feature about her.  Her hands were fine-boned with long, shapely fingers.  Other pornographic images began to float into his mind, but he cut them off before Tehotu could read them.  "This must be the daughter I've always heard about," Reginald said with a dazzling smile.

"Yes," Tehotu answered, "She is my jewel.  Laurel, this is my best friend and most prized business partner, Reginald Portafoy." 

There was a hidden innuendo in his words that Laurel didn't care for.  Laurel, this is my best friend and most prized business partner, your future husband, Reginald.  She nodded briefly.  "Very nice to meet you, Mr. Portafoy."  Actually, I'd rather meet a slug.  You know what?  You look like a slug.  May I go now?  She held out her hand like the lady her mother taught her to be so he could place a kiss upon it.

Reginald stared down at her hand and wished it were wrapped snugly around him.  Taking her fingers gently into his, he raised her hands up to her lips and kissed it briefly.  She dropped her hand immediately, and for a moment, he thought he saw a flash of disgust in her eyes.  "Tehotu, you have a very lovely daughter.  Would you mind if I asked her to dance?"

Tehotu shook his head.  "Absolutely not."

I suppose I do not get a say in this deal, Laurel thought.  I don't want to dance with him.  I don't like the way his eyes rake up and down my body.  Please, Father, don't make me dance with this man.  Sighing deeply, Laurel held out her hand again and allowed Reginald to take it.  She felt as if she were clasping hands with some foul smelling predator.  She followed as he led her to the farthest point in the room where few people could see them, including her parents.  It was a very sharp move on his part, but she was terrified.  Surely this man would not harm her in a room with so many people milling about.  Laurel prayed for a fast song, but it didn't happen.  She went into this stranger's arms and allowed him to guide her around the small space of room in which he had led her.  She didn't want to stand so close to him, but he insisted that she plaster her body right up against his.  He was gazing down at her hungrily, like the true cad that he was.  Although an innocent, Laurel wasn't stupid.  She knew what he had on his mind, and she hated him.  She hated this man and she hadn't known him any longer than a few minutes.  Finally, I have you in my arms, and you bet I'm going to touch you as much as I can, right outside your father's sight.  He whirled her around a few times, and she was certain that he was going to leave her alone.  However, he didn't.  During one swing around, his hand traveled from the small of her back directly onto her buttocks.  They feel as luscious as I thought they'd be.  I can't wait to touch them without the benefit of this dress.  Perhaps even tonight?  If he could get her alone…

Shocked, Laurel didn't know how to react.  The one thing she did do was reach behind her and removed his hand.  "Don't touch me like that again," she whispered harshly.  She didn't want anyone near to hear the exchange.  If she told her father, he would not believe her.  He trusted this man more than he trusted his brother.

"I thought you would like it," he said innocently, his eyes sparkling malevolently. 

"I don't.  You must stop, or I'll tell my father," she said as she held up her chin defiantly.

"Go ahead," Reginald said with a smile, "Do you think he'll believe you?"  Unaffected by her ire, he whirled her around again.  "You know what your father wants, don't you?  He threw this party to find a proper husband for you.  He wants me to be his son-in-law, the man to give him heirs.  Of course, the marriage proposal won't come for a few weeks, or perhaps even a few months, but Tehotu wants our courtship to begin immediately.  You are to be mine, Laurel.  It's a simple fact, one of which you must accept."

She stared up at him with hatred written all over her.  Her eyes had changed from their usual blue-green to full on raging green.  "No.  I will not accept that.  I refuse to be another piece of your property.  I don't know you and what little I do know, I don't like."

"You will grow to like me, want me, and beg for me.  I can guarantee that," he said with a smile.

The dance ended and Laurel felt certain that no one had witnessed the exchange.  However, she was wrong.  Her mother had seen it and was greatly disturbed by what she had seen.  Her husband respected Reginald and wouldn't listen to her, to a woman.  Tomorrow, she and her husband would have to talk about this man.  She held her tongue as her daughter approached.  Laurel, forever a trooper, put on a false smile as she drew closer to her mother.  She breathed a sigh of relief when her mother didn't ask how she enjoyed the dance.  She would have had to be honest. 

Throughout the rest of the party, Laurel stayed mostly to herself.  Tehotu ensured that no other men approached his daughter, and if any did, he wouldn't allow them to linger for long.  After the last guest left, Laurel excused herself and immediately fled upstairs.  She tossed her body onto the bed and cried until she fell asleep.  Meanwhile, her father stayed downstairs speaking excitedly to her mother about how well Reginald and Laurel had gotten on.  It had only been one night and he was already planning his daughter's wedding.

*  *  *

The next morning after securing a promise to his wife that they would talk about their daughter and Reginald, Tehotu found his way to one of the museums he co-owned.  A group of Arab men were requesting the return of some specific artifacts.  He didn't quite understand, but Reginald had said the men were adamant.  He met Reginald at the museum and was immediately taken aback by the appearance of a tall, imposing man who was waiting patiently.  He was decked in what seemed like a dozen robes.  His head was uncovered and he had very long, jet-black hair that fell in waves to his shoulders.  His angular face was framed by a neat beard that hugged his chin and jaw line to meet an equally neat mustache.  He had a set of bizarre tattoos scattered about his cheeks and forehead.  There were others on his hands.  It was unnerving.  It was nearly impossible to judge the age of this man.  His style of dress and demeanor made him appear as large as a giant.  He appeared completely out of place, but also very comfortable at the same time.

"Tehotu, this is the individual whom I spoke to you about," Reginald began.

"Mister…," Tehotu began.

The imposing figure shook his head.  "I am Ardeth Bay.  I have been informed that someone gave you a stolen item very sacred to my people.  It is the Amulet of Horus.  I would like it back so that I may take it to its rightful home."

Neither Reginald nor Tehotu doubted the man would fight them for it if they refused.  Not only that, but they also knew the exact amulet this man was speaking of.  "I'll get your amulet, Mr. Bay," Tehotu said.

Reginald had honestly wanted to argue.  The amulet was a priceless artifact that he intended to steal and sell on the black market.  If he hadn't been so dog shit scared of this imposing man, he would have argued to the death.

Tehotu brought the amulet a few moments later.  It was wrapped in velvet and he placed it delicately in a wooden box.  "I apologize something so dear to you was stolen."

"Please inform your acquisitions manager to stay out of Egypt," the stranger said, momentarily focusing his eyes on Reginald, as if he suspected the man of perpetrating the crime.  "Thank you."

This would not be the last time these men saw Ardeth Bay.

____________________

To be continued…