Speak Softly
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1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Evy opened her eyes and groaned. She had lost consciousness not long after Imhotep gave pursuit of she and Ardeth, and the first time she had awakened from that it had been to a swift, rough whipping right here in the throne room where the pharaoh's council could watch. Her breathing came hard and her body ached from Imhotep's strap. He sat above her on his throne, aware that she had come to. The pharaoh leaned his hands onto his knees and looked down on her as she lay on the floor, weak and cut. "How do you feel?"

Her eyes moistened and she found she had no words to say. The king-priest saw her distress and was off his high seat and kneeling by her side in an instant. He was possessively gentle and it made her head spin as he drew her into his hot arms. Imhotep intruded his hands through her dark hair and whispered, "My Nefertiri, why did you run from me? Why do you make me hurt you?"

At that she laughed bitterly and endured his softness. "I hate you," was her reply, as she remembered with a shudder Ardeth's pain at seeing his people dead.

He traced her neck and smiled, brushing his lips across cheeks reddened from hard slaps. "Yes. You do. It does not have to be that way."

Evy furrowed her brow and wrenched herself free of his caresses with a scowl. "Imhotep," she said incredulously, "get real. What have you done with Ardeth?"

The priest ignored her question and crossed his arms, still sitting on the floor. Instead he said, "You brought my enemy back from the grave. I have not yet decided how I shall punish further you for that mistake."

"What did you do to him?" she repeated, too determined to get an answer to be afraid of pressing the issue. She had to know where Ardeth was. If he were hurting somewhere…

Drawing in a long breath, Imhotep gave in to her want as he sometimes would when he questioned how far he had taken his actions. He backed against his throne and gazed through unreadable eyes. "I did what I had to. I killed him."

Evy swallowed and shook her head, unease spreading through her body. "You're lying," she accused him, but he gave no indication that he was. Too many emotions swept through her for her to contain herself as a few seconds passed away. She threw herself at the priest, hitting him everywhere her small hands could find and cried, "Tell me that you're lying!" She couldn't be back here. Not again.

He let her vent her anger for only so long before his hands closed around her wrists roughly and held her still. Evy looked into his angry face and forced herself to calm down. Getting killed wouldn't help right now. She needed all the facts. Imhotep threw her aside and snapped, "Of course I killed him, Nefertiri! You think I am a fool that would allow his enemy to walk and breathe, knowing he may well kill me? You saw what your Med-Jai was able to do." It troubled him greatly, she could tell.

She rubbed her stomach and sat for a moment, trying desperately not to believe his logic. Something wasn't right about this. It didn't ring true of the priest, yet how could she argue with what he just said? Ardeth gone? Memories of his first death came flooding back, an image of a body resting and his eyes forever closed. The purple bruise that had still shown on the side of his forehead as a mark of fatality. Imhotep watched her curiously, then said in low tones, "You cared for him?"

"Yes," she whispered, trying to hold her tears back in front of this monster. It was growing harder by the second.

The priest inhaled sharply and glared. Evy kept her gaze down, her hand shivering in need to cover the mark of Ardeth's kiss she knew would be on her throat, visible for Imhotep to see. What rights did he have for jealousy? Finally he asked, "Did you lay with him?"

That abrupt question caught her off guard and she looked up quickly, afraid to answer. She clasped her shaking hands together and attempted to formulate a lie, but he had already seen the answer in her eyes and was steadily growing angrier. "Yes!" she hissed, looking straight into his shadowy face. "Yes, I bloody well did! Is that so terrible? To want the kind touch of a friend instead of the pawings of a madman?"

Imhotep glared a second more, and then looked away. "No, it is not." His voice was distant.

She saw his breathing deepen and an old hurt resurfaced across his face. Once upon a time he had been in Ardeth's shoes and Ancksunamun in hers. That very fact could possibly save her from his anger. Evy shakily touched his arm and said, "I'm sorry."

He ripped his arm away as if bitten and stood up. Waving his hand he told her, "Go where you will, Nefertiri. Leave me now." She watched him disappear into an adjoining chamber.

Evy stood up on weak legs and looked around, not sure what to do with herself. The image of Ardeth's face rushed upon her like an enemy and her eyes watered. He couldn't be dead. She refused to believe it. Yet that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach would not go away. She wrapped her arms around herself and left the throne room, jackals watching her with flinty eyes. The dimmed hallways of night gave off a false impression of loneliness and the cold, dark gray walls trimmed by gold doors and cream furniture echoed a certain bittersweet beauty that bled of Imhotep's reign. It was dark here, shadowy with sparse lighting; chain chandeliers bearing alabaster candles strung above every fifteen feet.

She decided to return to her rooms and hopefully find rest. Right now consciousness was too much to bear. It felt strange being back, wandering these halls once more. From the feel of it one would think she had been gone for a long time. It wasn't that, though. She had believed Ardeth would save her—the world. Sure, she had her share of doubts, but the very idea that he wouldn't save her came as a surprise.

Wiping a tear, she sniffled and turned right down a hallway. Footsteps trailed behind her and she whipped around with a small, irrational hope inside that it would be Ardeth coming to rescue her. She chided herself upon seeing her brother. "Evy," he breathed, looking her over with sad eyes that noticed every visible bruise. "Poor baby sister. I heard last night. Where did you go?"

Unable to contain herself at hearing Jonathan's comforting voice, Evy let her cries come out. He held her fast, waiting patiently for her to talk. "I…I woke Ardeth up, Jonathan. I thought he could help us."

He sighed against her and brushed her hair with his fingers. "You woke Ardeth? Where is he?"

"Imhotep said he killed him," she replied in fearful tones, holding her brother hard. "I took him to the Field of the Med-Jai and, and he saw. And if Imhotep killed him…oh Jonathan, it was all in vain."

Jonathan exhaled and drew her along. "Maybe Imhotep was lying. It isn't as if the old devil's ever honest."

Evy shook her head, wiping her cheeks again. One never could never distinguish between madness and sanity when it came to Imhotep, much less what truth was. "I suppose he could have been, but why? He's afraid of Ardeth and keeping him alive would be stupid. Imhotep admitted as much to me."

They stopped at her grand rooms; rooms only she and Imhotep had keys to. She looked down at her two-piece skirt and saw hers still dangled from the chain across her hip. Jonathan followed when she unlocked the door and set her keys on a table inside. The familiar setting smothered her. "How did you get out?" he asked, flopping down on a pillow filled dais.

She joined him and hugged a pillow to her chest, still picturing Ardeth in her mind. Her stomach hurt and tingled when she thought of their moments in the sand. The last thing she really felt like doing right now was reliving the gory details of her story, but Jonathan looked on expectantly. "The night I left I broke a small window in one of the guest chambers on the main floor. I ran through the dark towards the Med-Jai burial grounds and a jackal followed me." The terror she had felt that night still rang through her. She showed him her cut up arms. "I didn't escape without wounds to show for it, but I managed to kill the thing and continue. It took me all night, but I got there with the Book of the Dead and called Ardeth back."

"The Book of the Dead?" Jonathan breathed in wonderment. He leaned back on his hands and looked at his sister. "How'd you manage to get your hands on that, old mum?"

Evy shrugged, not all that sure herself. "Someone sent it." She rolled onto her stomach and laid her head against a large pillow. "Anyway, I woke Ardeth and fell unconscious. When I woke up we were inside the crypts. We…we went to the Field of the Med-Jai." Outside the wind picked up and Evy glanced to the window. It was getting dark from another storm cloud. Perfect to suit her mood.

Jonathan also looked up and took notice of the sky. "Poor old boy. Must have been hard, seeing his own like that. How'd he handle it?"

She swallowed as his cries sounded sharply in her mind, followed by soft kisses beneath her ear. A chill passed through her and his dark eyes wouldn't leave her alone. "Bad," she answered and closed her eyes, needing sleep. "I'm so tired, Jonathan."

The cushioned dais shifted when his weight was taken away from it. He opened a cupboard across the room and took a blanket out. She welcomed it gratefully when he draped it over her. "Go to sleep, Evy. Close your eyes and forget everything. I'm taking your key so I can check on you later."

"Okay," she murmured, taking small comfort in the warmth around her. She felt him rub her arm and stand back up. "Jonathan?" He waited when she looked up. "Please try to find out what happened to Ardeth."

Jonathan nodded once and turned away, taking her keys and leaving her alone. Evy snuggled into her blankets and stared at the colorless wall. His fingers still traveled across her shoulder gently. Ardeth was not dead. She would know it if he were. Yet the doubt within would not stop whispering in her ear. Evy closed her eyes tightly and tried not to let tears fall again. The nightmare was far from over.

~~~~~~~

The place he was in was large, he could tell. Not having one's sight caused the other senses to become sharper, though his senses were already quite attuned from training. Large rooms like these gave off a different sound than smaller, more confined rooms. There was shuffling in the distance, indicating he wasn't altogether alone. It was chilly, meaning he was underground and the air smelled old. He was far from the surface.

The light of life was gone from this place. Outside it attacked his senses and pawed at him gently with beautiful stirrings in his spirit. Evy's life had filled him, driven him into deepest despair for need of its beauty. But this place…this place was cold and dark and lifeless. This place was filled with death and emptiness.

Ardeth didn't move from where he was. He could see no need for it in his uninformed state and besides that he was sore. Imhotep must have attacked them from behind before either could even comprehend it was coming. He exhaled.

Under other circumstances he might have thought laying here in the cold dark with his heart torn to pieces would seem like death. But he knew it was not. He knew death. This was worse. But he couldn't afford to dwell on his people. There was nothing he could do to change what had been done. He could save Evy though, with a little effort.

First thing was first. He needed to know if he were restrained. A small movement confirmed he was not and he wasn't sure how to take that. Obviously Imhotep was confident that Ardeth didn't need to be bound, but was that confidence wrong or simply because the priest had enough advantage to let Ardeth free?

The rustling in the blackness grew louder as if something was struggling. Perhaps it wasn't confidence that kept him free, but necessity. Imhotep seemed to want him alive for the time being, but if there were something dangerous down here he would have to defend himself or at least run. There was a scream from far away and the echoing sound chilled him.

Ardeth was not sure what he should do. To get down and wander might well see him dead, but he had to know what fate had befallen Evy. This was maddening and perfectly Imhotep. For all he knew he was blind! It was frustrating.

But sitting here was not going to accomplish anything. Ardeth swung his legs over the side of his stone bed and let his feet drop. The sound reminded him of waking up, of the horrible feeling of loss. He shook his head.

Holding his hands out in front of him, Ardeth at first felt nothing but the floor beneath him and the chill of the air. He walked until he was confident that if he turned back he could not find the slab he had been laying on. The seconds passed into minutes and those into ten until at last he found a wall. He patted it in relief and began to follow. That shuffling sound came closer, making him slightly nervous.

Somewhere in these halls he ran—quite literally—into a small pool of water. The sudden decline of ground made him falter in the darkness, and before he knew it he was on his hands and knees in a puddle. Something scurried towards him, hitting the water with light feet. Ardeth raced up and brushed his splashed hair back, holding himself in the defensive.

A small squeak later what he decided must be a rat bounded past him, hitting his leg on the way and squealing in irritation. He let out a tense breath, but immediately held it again when another sound came from nearby. That shuffling again, too big to be a rodent. Ardeth felt for the wall again and headed back the other way. The shuffling followed him.

Wonderful, he thought ironically as slow footfalls kept up behind him. After fighting many foes in his years the last thing he needed was to be killed in a dungeon by some limping robber. But suddenly the shuffling stopped and the very air seemed to react to what Ardeth heard. A voice, strong and regal, shouted in the depths, rounding corners now to meet his ears. "Imhotep," he breathed in contempt, but knew that to see the priest may mean getting a glimpse of his surroundings—not to mention possibly getting rid of his follower. He headed towards the voice.

Not too long after the first call Ardeth—and his follower—found a hallway with orange light pouring down it. He could see the priest in the distance with a torch, heading straight for him. The Med-Jai took this opportunity to see if the small light would allow him a vision of his tag-along, but it was still too dark.

To remain still might give his little friend back there a chance to attack, so he headed for Imhotep. The priest drew himself up as he neared, his eyes shadowy. They met in the middle of a clearing in the halls and Ardeth could see through the scant light what he already knew. He was in a dungeon. Before Imhotep could speak he glanced around for his follower, annoyed that the thing stayed hidden. "Looking for something, Med-Jai?" the priest asked.

Ardeth narrowed his brow at Imhotep, noting there were no guards with him. "What sort of place is this and what have you done with Evy?"

"This," Imhotep began with a sweep of his arm, "is your home." He bent and peered behind Ardeth, then smiled. "You have made a friend already."

Whipping around to see whatever it was the priest was smirking at, Ardeth gasped and took a step back. The shadow was little more than a skeleton with paper-thin flesh hanging from its bones. It had once been a young man, he could tell. It stared at him through hollow eyes and Ardeth felt uneasy. "What manner of dungeon is this, that holds the living dead?"

The king-priest snapped at the creature that watched and it shuffled back into the darkness. He looked at Ardeth in fascination. "I thought this might be fun for my more hated enemies. It is where you will live from now until you die."

Ardeth frowned at the idea and more so the joy this little place seemed to give Imhotep. "Why do you hold me here, knowing that it is my destiny to kill you?" he asked.

"You are a man of many questions, Med-Jai, but I see no reason to withhold knowledge. I thought about killing you." From his eyes Ardeth could see it was true. He had come close to losing his life in sleep. The priest kept his eyes on him and tilted his head. "But you fascinate me. You are able to cause me harm, though I am immortal. I wonder why. If you survive down here perhaps we can test our skills against one another, but right now I have other matters to attend to."

Ardeth grunted at that, wrapping his arms around himself in the cold. "Where is Evy?" he asked again, aware he had not been answered the first time.

Imhotep's face darkened and it made him wonder what had happened. The priest's amusement turned into a steady glare. "You have touched my Nefertiri," he hissed in statement. Ardeth remained silent, knowing nothing he could say would appease the mummy. He continued. "You believe she loves you?"

"Perhaps," Ardeth replied simply as he shivered.

The priest nodded. "We shall see."

Bay cocked his head and allowed a sarcastic smile to cross his lips. "Will we?" He looked around the darkness and wondered if death would find him if he attacked the priest. He turned back. "Is this the reason you tear yourself away from the comfort above? You must feel threatened if you need to come make sure my spirits are low. Thank you for showing me your fear and raising them."

Imhotep wasn't moved by Ardeth's goading. "It is not fear that moves me, but justice. You touched that which is mine and have threatened my possession of it. That deed cannot go unpunished." He drew a dagger from his belt.

At that Ardeth backed away and the priest took a step in advance with grim intent in his eyes. Ardeth's mind fought between staying and fighting or running into the darkness in the hope that Imhotep would tire of the game and leave him. If he could get that dagger away…

Ardeth decided to stay and face Imhotep, and the priest smiled. They wouldn't wait to test their skills against one another after all. The time was now. Imhotep tossed the torch down and held the dagger forward. He slashed at Ardeth, but he backed off in time, then grabbed for the mummy's arm.

Imhotep laughed and wrenched free, in turn dragging the knife over Ardeth's arm in the process. The Med-Jai groaned at the sting and kicked the priest down. Hitting the ground, Imhotep flipped to his knees and raced up with a grin. He tossed himself forward and knocked Ardeth to the dirt beneath them. The two men struggled on the floor until Imhotep pulled his fist free and backhanded Ardeth as hard as he could.

Groaning, Ardeth clawed at the robed priest's attacking hands, desperate to keep the knife away. The priest looked down in determination and thrust the dagger towards Ardeth, but was deflected. He was momentarily knocked off balance and Ardeth took the advantage to land a punch into Imhotep's jaw, causing him to gasp. It was enough for the Med-Jai to wrench himself free from his enemy and get up.

Imhotep kicked out before Ardeth could move to a safe distance, and he stumbled back into the wall. The priest was on him in seconds, pinning him back with his powers. He nodded in appreciation of the Med-Jai's skill, and then slashed his side. Ardeth groaned, but maintained defiant eye contact. "You will die," Imhotep told him confidently as he backhanded him again. "And you will be put with your people. You know not with whom you deal. I cannot be stopped." He hit him again and wiggled his hand as pain started to affect him. The knife found its way to Ardeth's throat and dark eyes glared him down. "I will have possession of Nefertiri forever and you, my Med-Jai enemy, you will have but a memory for the remainder of your short life."

The priest pulled the knife away and let Ardeth free, giving him time to use the arrogant confidence of Imhotep to seize the dagger and stab him. Imhotep howled in pain and fury when his own weapon met his shoulder. The mummy yanked it out and pulled Ardeth from the wall, then used his power to toss him across the room.

Ardeth fell to the floor a ways off from Imhotep and listened as the priest commanded those who inhabited this horrible dungeon not to let their hunger go unanswered. The undead hungered for all that lived to perish that they may finally find peace. They would not give him leave to sleep in this dark place. "Fight for your pitiful life," Imhotep spat, taking the dagger and torch up. "The dead will not let you have a moment's rest."

As the king-priest left Ardeth could hear the shuffling begin again. He couldn't stay here and recover. Painfully, he pulled himself to his feet and felt for a wall, then traversed until he could hear no more footsteps. Sinking to his knees and fighting for breath, he took what little rest would be given as the undead moved slowly. At least now he knew Evy lived and the priest meant her to stay that way. It gave him something to fight for.

~~~~~~~

Disclaimer: No infringement intended. Ahamad and Nashean belong to me. Author: Angela – jedinineofnine@hotmail.com

A/N: Hmmm. I do hope my Ardeth/Evy stuff hasn't drive off anyone. ;-) :-D I know some have stuck it out, eh? Anyway, no real notes this time around.

To Reviewers:

Mommints – Aaaw, thanks! Yeah…poor Ardeth. *sniff* And the things we all do to that boy. ;-) Anyway, I'm glad you like my bad!Immy. :-D

Lula – Thankie! Yeah, Immy needs a good butt whoopin' for throwing Ardeth around! :-O Unfortunately…not yet, though. ;-) Little more Ardeth angst, huh?

Insane Dragoness and Deana – Thanks! I'm glad you liked…yeah, twas sad, huh? Our poor guy. :-D

Marxbros – Thanks for sticking it out, then, if Ardeth/Evy's hard for you to swallow. ;-) It's a compliment that you can like it from me! :-) Thanks!

Marcher – I'm thinking you rather like Ardeth's thighs. ;-) Meeeeee too, my friend. Meeee too. *drool* Thank you, I'm glad you liked!