Speak Softly
Disquiet

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.

~~~~~~~

The camp was small and no light was spared to them. There could be no campfires lit for fear that the jackals may notice. Even sneaking away had been difficult, for the sight of the beings of Anubis was sharp and better than that of humans. Still, they had made it to the north and now hid within ruins of Karnac.

Ardeth lay draped over a large fallen column, his ankles crossed, his arms wrapped together and his eyes upon Eternal Sorrow. He pretended he could see the stars. The moment they had entered safety it had seemed his body could no longer compete with use. His side ached, but he had no motivation to see to it. More than his body, his heart was weighed down. He couldn't help but feel leaving Evy behind was a mistake. But Jonathan assured them she would be all right. Imhotep would not take vengeance against her for their crime of fleeing.

He prayed not. He could not have her suffering upon his hands like he did that of his people. Ardeth inhaled and rubbed at his eyes tiredly, murmuring to himself, "It was not my fault." Try as he may, though, he just couldn't wash the guilt off his shoulders. Why was he spared? Sajul had been every bit the good man Ardeth had tried to be. Now his friend suffered greatly.

His thoughts were interrupted as Rick approached and sat down on a column across from his friend. He lit up a cigarette, took a long and leisurely breath and offered the pack to his friend. When the Med-Jai declined, he nodded to Ardeth's side and said through a puff of smoke, "You should get that looked at."

Ardeth nodded, but did not stir. Instead he kept looking up at the dusty morning skies. "I know," he admitted, closing his eyes.

Rick got up and came over to where he was laying and sat down beside his feet. "That's probably why you feel tired, you know. You're gonna be weak until that scrape heals over." The ex-Legionnaire shoved Ardeth's legs over the side. "Get up. Gotta keep healthy."

With a bit of effort Ardeth brought himself up and looked his friend in the eyes. "How have you made it so long in this place?" he asked, more out of curiosity than any doubt it were possible. He rubbed his slashed arm.

O'Connell shrugged and looked out over the horizon, then smiled. "Aren't you the one that's supposed to be handing out noble advice?" He returned his gaze to his friend and took another breath from his cigarette. "Hope, I guess. It's harder to kill than one might imagine, unfortunately."

Ardeth shared his friend's smile and asked, "Why unfortunately?"

Again Rick shrugged his shoulders and turned his eyes downward. There was a war being waged inside him just as in any other person Ardeth had seen. A war between hope and doubt. "I just sometimes wonder if we aren't setting ourselves up for disappointment. I guess that's not the point of fighting, but that sort of thinking puts a kink in the armor sometimes." Ardeth nodded, but said nothing in reply. Rick watched him through unreadable eyes. "Can I ask you something?"

"I would never deny you that, my friend," Ardeth answered, wondering what was weighing on Rick's mind. He had seen flashes of something in those blue eyes for some time.

Now Rick looked distinctly uncomfortable as he gazed out towards the desert. "What happened between you and Evy?" he said in a lowered tone. "That joke you told when we were leaving…I mean I know you were just kidding, but how much of that came from something true?"

Bay knit his brows, wondering just how much Rick had surmised already. He knew he had let himself display his concern a little too much and yes, that joke was out of character from the man Rick had known bore only feelings of friendship for his ex-girlfriend, but had those small things led him to the truth? Ardeth knew there was the only response he could make, but it pained him at having to answer this. If he had known Rick were alive, had thought everything through before losing himself to his hurt…but he hadn't. "She took me to see my people," he began, seeing his friend flinch at his words. "I was overcome with grief. Evelyn comforted me and at the time…"

"Comforted you how?" Rick interrupted, still refusing to meet his friend's sorry gaze. He flicked his cigarette away and rested his arms on his knees.

Ardeth breathed in and looked out, knowing this wasn't going to be easy. How could he have been such a fool? He had not thought to even ask Evelyn if she still had feelings for Rick or if Rick still held feelings for her. He still couldn't say it, though. Instead he replied, "I think you know, Rick, though how you do is a mystery to me."

O'Connell nodded his head and finally let his eyes meet Ardeth's. He wanted to understand, the Med-Jai could see, but Rick was not one to easily brush feelings aside, whether justified or not. "Your uh 'friend' mentioned something. So, you didn't even love her when you did it?"

That question caught Ardeth off guard. He had expected some sort of rebuke or at least his friend to wonder why he had done this thing, but that wasn't what had come from Rick's lips. This question more than the others seemed hardest to answer. "Rick, I have always loved Evy. She is beautiful and very smart. But I will not lie to you and claim what happened was born out of true love. What my heart holds for her I do not yet know. I am sorry…"

Rick held up his hand and got up, visibly bothered by Ardeth's admissions. "Don't be sorry. Look this isn't really my business and I understand needing to feel something other than the pain. I really do." He sent hands through his dusty brown hair and shrugged uncertainly. "I don't know why she did what she did or who started it, or for what reasons, but I will tell you one thing, Ardeth. I swear to God if you've hurt her I'll put you back in the ground, savior or not." Startled, Ardeth opened his mouth to speak, but Rick shook his head, unwilling to hear more. "No, don't. Look, I'm just tired and if I forget we talked about this when I wake up, good. Don't bring it up again." He waved his hand and began to walk away. "Get yourself looked at, Ardeth, or I'll be the one to give you stitches and right now you really wouldn't like that."

Ardeth sat there, watching his friend go. There were no words for either speaking or thought right now, only the sensation of the heaviness on his heart increasing. One week back and already he had made a grave mistake, yet how could he call it that? He could not look back on the memory with complete shame because a part of him took comfort in the privacy of that special moment. Yet it wasn't private anymore. And Rick had made his opinion perfectly clear.

Of course death threats could be made lightly by the ex-Legionnaire and Ardeth did not fear he would be killed by his friend, but he wondered how this would affect their friendship. Would they now be enemies? The thought made Ardeth's weariness double. He was losing more people as time passed, to one thing or another.

He looked at the camp that grew more and more visible as the hours passed. Rick glared back and pointed to the woman who had rescued them, then crossed his arms and turned away. Perhaps his concern was a good sign. Then again, Ardeth could swear he caught on the air his friend telling her that being gentle was not necessary and it made him wonder.

As he approached Ardeth tried to meet his friend's gaze, but the ex-Legionnaire turned his back and headed towards a sleeping mat near the outskirts of the camp. He sighed and sat down, looking expectantly at Mayadeh. Jonathan flopped down beside him and puzzled over Rick's expression. "What's the matter with him?"

Ardeth shook his head and looked Jonathan over, wondering if this man would find reason to turn against him. He heard Necromancer's intake of breath and frowned, then looked down as Mayadeh ripped his robe a little more. He winced when an alcohol soaked rag touched his sensitive skin. "It is best left unsaid," he answered Evy's brother, who watched the mending process with absent fascination.

Jonathan nodded his head and looked up, then back at the large cut. "I see. Rick ah, find out about you and Evy?"

Knitting his brows, Ardeth looked away from the needle approaching him. Did the whole world know? Still, Jonathan didn't seem bothered and that was a good sign that he still had at least one friend. "How…" he paused and winced as the first stitch was being made, then met Jonathan's gaze. "How did you know?"

Shrugging his shoulders and sparing Rick a glance, Evy's brother looked up with a neutral expression. "My sister may have mentioned it."

"What did she say?" Ardeth replied, his curiosity piqued. Why shouldn't he want to know what Evy was feeling about it? He grit his teeth as Mayadeh dug the needle into his side and pulled it through again.

Jonathan shook his head. "She's upset, old boy. Right now she thinks you're dead because of Imhotep and it was quite a blow to her. I didn't even know you were alive until last night and you came before I could tell her." Ardeth remained quiet a moment, frowning at the sand. So Evelyn thought him dead, did she? Imhotep was certainly racking up reasons to be taken care of, as if he didn't already have more than enough.

He looked to his friend with almost pleading eyes. At the moment the last thing he needed was another hurt face, but he had to know. "Are you angry with me? Do you feel I dishonored your sister?"

"Oh, no," Carnahan replied simply. "Poor thing's entitled to a few moments of happiness after all she's been through." He nodded to Rick's supposedly sleeping form. "He's had it rough, Ardeth. Really rough. I'm not saying I lived like a king, but Rick knows what sort of relationship Evy and Imhotep have. He's just afraid of her getting hurt, having false hopes and the like. She doesn't even know he's alive because he doesn't want her to someday get the news he's been killed."

Ardeth nodded in understanding, breathing thankfully when Mayadeh let up on him a moment. She didn't look up, but he could see she was listening to their conversation. She grabbed for his arm and began cleaning it. "Rick will get over it. He's been a bit edgy lately and prone to anger that doesn't last." Mayadeh pushed his arm back and smiled reassuringly, but Ardeth did not share her assessment of Rick—at least not in their situation. She picked up on that and exhaled, then looked behind him. "That thing that followed you out of Imhotep's palace, what is it?" There was distrust in her voice and he couldn't blame her.

With a sigh he gave the only answer he knew to give, the same he had been giving, and said, "He is a guide. He claims he must lead me to the Staff of Osiris." She sat back and looked him over with an undisguised interest that made him feel uncomfortable. "Why do you look at me so?" he asked her, unable to meet her gaze for very long. He had caught several such glances before and wasn't sure how to take it.

Mayadeh smiled and shook her head. "You are different than I had imagined. Your name has traveled through our circles. We searched high and low for the man Imhotep feared, for this Ardeth Bay. You can imagine our reaction to finding that you were dead." He looked away at that and her tone became softer. "I'm sorry. I've brought up something painful. I had always envisioned you, Imhotep's Fear we call you, as being cold. Someone who has nothing to lose. Yet I see you in fact have much to lose. It makes me afraid."

"Why is that?" he replied, meeting her neutral gaze.

The girl looked him over again, then stood up. "No reason, Ardeth Bay. Rest well. Tomorrow we leave." Before he could stop her, she left him alone with Jonathan.

Evy's brother looked as puzzled as he felt, but said nothing. He crawled over to a mat and motioned his friend over to another mat beside him. Ardeth shook his head and stood up, dusting his hands off on his desert robe. "I will rest later. Right now I must think."

Nodding his head, Jonathan flopped onto his back and rested his hands behind his head. He looked up from his upside down position. "Don't think too much, old boy. That'll get you into trouble in a place like this."

Ardeth turned away and headed off to be alone. He could see the wisdom of those words. In this time and place it was better to not dwell on things and act as a machine, with no heart and nothing to get in the way. That was the reason for Mayadeh's fear. Yet could he stop the beating of his own heart? Not without drastic measures. But depth of emotion in a war would likely get him killed—any warrior knew that. No matter how much had been placed on him, he was going to have to brush it aside. Of course that was easier said than done.

He found a secluded wall and sank against it, watching the cloudy dawn arise. Sand shifted behind him and he knew he would get no rest from the words of others. This time it was Necromancer. The undead being crept closer and looked down on him through glinting eyes. "They will betray you. One by one, Ardeth Bay, until you are alone with your torment."

Ardeth glared up at his former friend, seeing Rick's point in getting angry once in a while. "I don't have the patience for you right now."

Necromancer laughed darkly, horribly and the sound seemed to pierce every nerve in Ardeth's body. The creature kicked sand at his friend. "You will face all these horrors alone, Chosen. You shall find little rest. It would be better if we continued apart from them, for it would spare your heart needless suffering."

With a sharp glare, Bay crossed his ankles and leaned his head back. He was entirely too tired for this drama. "Go away, Sajul. I do not care where you go or if you return, but leave me."

The other hissed at the old name, but didn't depart just yet. Instead he brought his withered form to the ground and sat before Ardeth, causing him to frown in irritation. "It is true I do hate you, but it serves my purpose to be truthful with you. O'Connell has betrayed you by closing his heart to you and Mayadeh doubts your destiny. She and her brother will only help you when it serves them. I know you are of a mind to rescue the whore of Imhotep, but even she will betray your heart."

Ardeth laughed at that, a laugh devoid of humor. It was ironic and angry, dark and low. "You yourself would betray me if it served you. Why should I heed your counsel and not that of the others?" He closed his eyes against the coming sun. Even though the cloud of Eternal Sorrow covered it from his eyes, he could feel it behind, waiting to return its touch to the earth. It felt as though the hidden rays penetrated his being, reminding him of the fact that he was still a newborn in this world.

"Because it does not serve me to betray you, fool," Necromancer replied harshly. He got up and turned away, leaving Ardeth alone finally. But not before one last word of argument was made. "Mark my words. Placing your faith in them will be the end of you. Your love will betray you."

Ardeth folded his arms and murmured, "Liar," before letting himself get comfortable enough to sleep. The last thing he was going to do was let the words of that foul being lead him astray. Things were bad, but he refused to believe they were hopeless and he most certainly was not going to leave Evelyn to suffer at the hands of Imhotep. In a way his promise to that meant more to him than saving the world from the priest.

He looked up and saw Necromancer wrapped up in his robes, cowering from the illuminated dimness as if he too could feel the sun just beyond reach. Ardeth was not going to let himself come to that, hiding from pain like an evil creature fleeing the light. Mayadeh was wrong in her beliefs concerning what sort of man should fight Imhotep. Having something to fight for made him stronger.

~~~~~~~

Nefertiri was stirring and soon she would have questions, he knew. She was going to be put off with him for knocking her out. Imhotep sighed and wet the ball of cotton in his fingers, then lifted her foot again to remove the red paint. He frowned upon the chemicals, unable to make even a guess at what abrasive ingredients it held. As the cold mix hit her foot she stirred again and opened her eyes. The priest instantly increased the pensive expression he had been wearing. If during her mood check she found him to be less than patient perhaps it would keep her from asking too many questions. "What happened?" she ventured and he looked up momentarily.

His expression did not change and partly from true emotion, his voice was low and frustrated. He studied her now pink foot gently. "The attackers have fled. They managed to escape, but not without taking your brother."

Evy gasped and widened her eyes. No doubt the idea of being left alone with him would be a frightening concept for her, though her brother's flight was quite convenient for his goals. "Why did they take him?" she asked softly, as if more out of thought than expecting an answer from him.

Imhotep shrugged his shoulders and wet another ball of cotton. He frowned at the work he was doing, but kept at it. He enjoyed contact with her—the only piece of his ancient past he could hold to. "I do not know why they have taken your brother, Nefertiri, but if he can be reclaimed it will be so. I have sent my jackals out to hunt."

That was at least partly true. He did send the beasts of Anubis out to hunt, but they would not return with Jonathan. They would not return with anyone. To be honest Imhotep was tired of the games. There would be no tormenting of his enemies within the dark of his dungeon. He wanted them dead. Yesterday. He wanted his jackals to find them and kill them painfully. Nothing more. There was no luxury for more. He had entirely too much to risk on the simple pleasure of hurting his enemy.

Imhotep looked down upon his slave princess, wondering what was going on behind her pretty eyes. She looked troubled, but that was nothing new. There was always something to trouble her. Nefertiri cared about the affairs of men too much. Did she not see what he offered her? She would not have to worry ever again if she would but accept the richness he would give her.

Still, he did not begrudge her an intelligent mind. He valued that now more than ever. Ancksunamun had been intelligent, far more than her slave master had given her credit. That sort of thing was to be prized and he would glory Nefertiri for it, instead of lowering her as her father had his love.

He exhaled and looked down at her now clean foot. No, he had no desire to shame her as Ancksunamun had been. But he would have his price. He would not allow that debt to go unpaid. The world would be hers, but in return he would gain ultimate possession of her—complete and utter. Less than that was unacceptable for what she had done. And he would not be without companionship, but only precious few met his standards. Of Nefertiri he had wanted before and now that he had enjoyed her, no other woman, willing or not, would satisfy his needs. There was intimacy to be had with even an enemy, more than a stranger. Imhotep pet her foot and looked into her saddened, worried eyes. "Do not fear, Nefertiri. I will find him and bring justice to his captors."

"Thank you," Nefertiri replied softly, insincerely. She did not trust him and that was okay. He could live without that for now. The important thing was that she obey him and that she believe him to be the only person she can turn to. For it was Nefertiri that would be his link to this new world and help him understand and conquer it completely.

She was beautiful and the thought of claiming the heart and soul of this enemy awakened desire in him once more. Imhotep moved closer and leaned over her, practically caging her to the bed. She immediately froze. He looked over her tense, lovely face and noted her fearful eyes. "I only want one kiss," he breathed, pressing his lips into hers. He kissed her deeply, taking every hot place inside her mouth as he hadn't in months. In their two years he had only taken her six times, savoring each when his mercy for her fear failed him. That mercy was going to fail a seventh time very soon, he foresaw.

Imhotep pulled up, touching her bare shoulder blade. "Was that so terrible?"

Shaking her head, Nefertiri whispered, "No," in a soft tone of voice. Her fear was both a high and a disappointment. In the end it did not matter, though. Either way she belonged to him and only him. He would not be denied anything in this world. Not after it had taken Ancksunamun again.

He took her hand and kissed it, then stood. "I have things I must do. The palace is yours, my princess." Imhotep looked down on her shivering form once more, then turned away and left her. He had a little trip to prepare for.

~~~~~~~

Disclaimer: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, and Sajul/Necromancer belong to me.

A/N: So there I was on this dock, resurrecting Imhotep, when CELEBORN of Lorien banishes him back into the temple. I had wanted Imhotep awake for some reason…possibly to kill or kidnap someone named Elrond. (hopefully to kidnap nekked) ;-D I can't remember all that well. See, my aunt called at that moment and about half the brain cells carrying that dream jumped ship with pieces of the memory firmly tucked in their hands (possible floatation devices?) and I couldn't recall such a cool dream. Don't you hate that?

To Reviewers:

(Also thanks to anyone who reviews my little collection of extras! Glad you thought Oh The Humanity was funny and the Softly Snippets good. :-)

Lula – Hehehe….I thought Ardeth needed to let off a little steam. ;-D As for his joke, well, now you see what Rick really thinks. :-O Yikes. What's a P.I.A.??? Lol. Thanks!

Marcher – Thanks…I'm glad you thought it was funny. I enjoyed writing it. Humor good. Humor took a dive in this chapter. Lol. Oye.

Deana – Thankya, my friend. Yes, I imagine Ardeth's quite overwhelmed, especially now. I wish I could comfort him. ;-) *lesigh* ah, reality. The bite of it all. ;-D

Marx – Hehe…here's hoping you still like that Rick Ardeth thing going…lol. I mean of course Rick would never really hurt Ardeth, but hey…this IS Evy. :-O Thanks for your compliments!