Speak Softly
Gone

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 inhaled deeply and looked herself over in the mirror. She rather thought she looked good in burgundy, though she could use a little more covering. She rolled her eyes and sat down at her vanity, grabbing a brush. Combing it through her hair, she hummed a little and wondered where her brother was and if he were being treated properly. She likely wouldn't find out for some time. Imhotep had a meeting across the border and had to get there to make sure everything was arranged correctly, and since she usually had to go everywhere he went she was stuck.

Of course the king-priest was lavish in his assurances that all would be taken care of while they were gone. If Jonathan were found and liberated, he would be returned and allowed to continue life in the palace as before. If not, they would keep looking. There was really nothing she could do here but worry, so Imhotep wanted her to come away and take a break.

She sighed and opened her powder jar, dipping the large puff a few times and shaking it. She always had to look good for her master. Evy looked at herself in the mirror and stuck her tongue out. The door to her changing room opened without being knocked upon. Only Imhotep did that.

He walked around the door and she scowled at his attire. He wore black pants and a black shirt, his dark robes replacing what on men of her age would have been a suit jacket. "That's not fair, you know," she told him, watching him approach. "Why don't I get to wear something more conservative?"

Knitting his brows, Imhotep surveyed the contents of her vanity and picked up a tube of lipstick he was particularly fond of. Kneeling down, he grabbed her cheeks and made her face him, then brushed it across her lips with careful, measured strokes. "Because, Nefertiri," he answered in a mild tone as he looked over his work and let her face go. She rubbed her cheeks and frowned at him. He smiled and pulled her forward by her neck, kissing her with a heated fervor that told her he wasn't going to wait too much longer for an answer to his proposal. "You are a slave."

Evy sighed and turned her body away from him, looking back at her reflection. She could see him there too, his eyes traveling her over. "When do we leave?" she asked, hoping to distract him from such thoughts. He wiped the lipstick from his lips and smiled.

Imhotep placed a small kiss her cheek and stood straight. "I came to see if you were ready to leave now." His tone was distant and his eyes shadowy. She could hear his question even when he did not speak it.

She looked him over through the mirror and exhaled. What should she tell him? When would he make the final demand? She wasn't ready to answer him yet, but time was running out and with that his patience. Evy almost thought remaining his slave forever would have been better than having this brought before her. She could not afford to make the wrong choice. Still, he wasn't asking her just yet. "I'm ready," she told him, pushing her chair out and standing. Evy wrapped her arms together and waited.

Imhotep let his eyes sweep her over in appreciation again, resting finally on her face. He touched her cheek softly, but said nothing. A master inspecting his pet. The priest turned away and motioned to her bags, breathing, "Come then, my princess. We must depart." He headed for the door.

Evy pursed her lips and gathered her things, joining him in the hallway. She stayed behind as far as she could. Things certainly felt different between she and this monster, but she couldn't exactly pinpoint what or if it were of the good. He was still dominant and that would never change, she knew, but at least he wasn't so demanding with her. He had hit her only once since her welcome home beating, which was a definite plus, and he had even been a little more merciful with Jonathan.

It would never be a marriage made in Heaven. There were absolutely no illusions about that. Every girl wanted prince charming to sweep her off her feet, but if it hadn't looked like that would happen before, now that Imhotep ruled over her, it definitely appeared out of the question. She didn't want to marry him, it felt like giving in and saying it was okay for him to do these things to her and her friends. But what if it made things better? In reality it probably couldn't make things worse—damaging nothing but her pride. And what if she could help him change, as he seemed to offer?

Yet something else stuck with her, something her brother had said. Marrying Imhotep wouldn't be like admitting Ardeth was gone. That phrase had struck her and that, she decided with a sigh, was her problem. The constant question of what if Ardeth wasn't dead. Evy stared at the floor as she walked, wondering where he was, if he were okay or if indeed he was dead once more. Logic taunted her with the latter, while hope kept burning deep within, saying he would return and he would be fine. But what if it wasn't true?

Ahead Imhotep stopped as a jackal approached him and bowed. She stayed a little behind and waited to see what was going on. Through that otherworldly voice she had grown to hate, it looked up and announced in uncaring tones, "The brother is dead." Her bags hit the floor.

The priest came to her, but she pushed him away. Evy covered her lips and turned, staring back down the hall. No, it wasn't true. Why was she losing everyone? She wanted to run away and hide, but Imhotep would never allow that. She heard him moving behind her and turned to see what terrible thing he was about to demand now.

Imhotep bent down and picked up her bags, handing them to the jackal. "Take these to the car in back and leave us."

With a snarl the jackal took the bags and obeyed its master quickly. Evy found the idea of moving hard. Tears were already running freely down her face and for once she didn't care about her makeup or if it displeased Imhotep. Apparently neither did he at the moment, for instead of the usual rebukes and words about how life was never fair, least of all to slaves, he merely wiped her cheeks and said gently, "Come."

Evy covered her face and let herself cry, ignoring the arm that went around her as she began to walk. She took no comfort in it, but didn't have the will to care whether or not he touched her. All she could do was hear that laugh and see those glinting blue eyes. Things she would never enjoy again.

For the first time in her life Evy felt completely alone with this man. It scared her.

~~~~~~~

"You know, you are one lucky man." Rick looked over at his lone companion and shook his head. How Jonathan had managed to survive the attack Rick couldn't guess, but summed it up as a miracle. He wasn't even too worse for the wear. The Englishman had sustained a hit to the face, a good beating and a blade to the shoulder, but was otherwise reasonably together.

Jonathan groaned about the pain in his shoulder. He did need a doctor, Rick knew, but their trip was going to take just a little longer. They couldn't go north to where Ahamad's contacts were waiting. The jackals knew they had been heading that way, so Rick had opted they go west. The neutral lands lay that way, where most people neither served Imhotep nor fought against him. It was dangerous there, but their best shot.

Rick stretched his tired muscles and flopped back against the sand, staring up at the blue sky. Sometimes thoughts of Ardeth tried to find their way into his mind, but Rick fought them every time. He couldn't' afford to mourn again and didn't look forward to it a second time. After he killed the priest, after that he would let it all out and probably sob like a baby for his losses and in utter joy that it was over, but not now. And not only was he planning to kill Imhotep, but if he could find that necromancer he was going to teach it some thorough lessons about betrayal. That thing had to have known what was going to happen. Why else would it have wanted to accompany him?

"Rick," he heard Jonathan say and with a sigh, he sat up. His companion was looking at him with concern written in his eyes. "We've got to get word to Nashean and tell him to let Evy know we're alive. Poor thing suspected Ardeth was dead already and absolutely does not need to know about last night, but I think she needs to know about us."

He was probably right. Rick had spent a lot of time protecting her from the fact that he was alive. The fact was she had never known what had befallen him and he took advantage of that. Anything to minimize the pain she felt. But now she was alone, or would feel that way as soon as Imhotep told her Jonathan was dead. She needed something else to cling to other than that overbearing monster. They would contact her somehow.

"Yep," he breathed, scratching his thigh. His pants were still wet and it bugged him. O'Connell looked around the desert, wishing by some stray chance his eyes would hit Necromancer. He hated that thing. Rick looked again to Jonathan, noticing that both of them seemed too tired to offer fake smiles. "Think you can make it? I know you're tired, but I wanna get to the west so you can get treatment."

He nodded, eyeing his friend thoughtfully. "And so you can get going?"

Rick got up, came closer and bent down to help Jonathan up. The other took it gratefully and winced at his body stretching. With a grunt, Rick gathered their scant supplies and stepped in beside Evy's brother, ready to help him walk if he needed it. "Yeah. That's part of why I wanna get away. Another is that those jackals might come back, hell even Imhotep might wander out here. I'm not ready to kill him just yet."

Jonathan walked a little slower than Rick would have preferred, but that was okay. The priest would always be there. Always. Rick could take his time and think about this if he wanted, though he had to admit his impatience for the idea was growing. If only it were as simple as marching in and blowing his head off.

They both knew that was not the case. Jonathan looked every bit like he was going to say something Rick wouldn't want to hear as he stared ahead, rubbing his hands together as he took slow steps. Blue met blue and Rick sighed at his friend's gaze. "Rick, I want him dead like you wouldn't believe, but we are talking about Imhotep here. The guy who no one has been able to stop for the past nearly two years."

"I don't need you to tell me the odds, Jonathan," Rick said.

Jonathan shook his head, saying, "Look, what exactly are you planning, anyway? I mean it's not as if you can just waltz in there and kill him. Even if he were unarmed and standing right in front of you, you couldn't."

Rick shrugged his shoulders and thought about the sword on his belt. He knew Jonathan was only trying to help, but right now he could do without thinking. He just wanted to kill. "I gotta do something, Jonathan. I'm not gonna just go knocking on his throne room door, asking if he'd be kind enough to die for us, though. I'm not that stupid."

His friend continued. "Look, I know, but…"

Rick stopped and shook his head. There wasn't anything to talk about. "No. You don't have to go. I'm not asking anyone's help here, but something has to be done and if…well, I'm just gonna be the one to do it. End of discussion."

But instead of closing his mouth, Jonathan hardened his eyes, snapping, "So, you're just going to do something foolish and then die? Is that it? Why don't you just save yourself the trouble and end it right here? Things are hopeless, so why not stop it all, huh? You go right ahead and do that, Rick, but I'll not go risking my neck on some foolish stunt that'll end up leaving Evy really alone. There was one man that was supposed to stop Imhotep and…"

Rick furrowed his brows angrily and interrupted, "Yeah, well Ardeth's gone! Do you want to talk about that, Jonathan? You want to talk about everyone placing their hope in something that's not going to happen? Want to talk about how I treated him badly, wandered off like a jerk and then came back to find him dead? That should have been me out there, but instead it was him. Now we don't have any hope and my friend is lost again. Well, I might not have the ability to cause Imhotep pain and I might not have the level patience and understanding as Ardeth, but I sure as hell am gonna try to do what he can't now. Don't you dare try to talk me out of it!"

That did it. Rick could tell his friend was miffed and worried, and underneath it all he appreciated that out of Jonathan. He really did. But they were running out of options. He was a believer. He was immortal and everything would work out in the end. Of course he had believed everything would work out for Ardeth, too. He was part of this, part of Rick, and seeing what he saw was worse than 1929.

And poor Mayadeh. God, that hurt. Rick thought about little Raji, her son. He'd only met the kid once, but knew he held his mother's charms. He was just another Rick O'Connell now, no parents and no home except wherever he was shipped to stay until he turned eighteen. Kids orphaned in this world had it hard with Imhotep's iron fist. People couldn't always afford to take in the numerous children.

Even Ahamad's death troubled Rick on some level. He supposed they had shared some sort of friendship at that, but what kind he couldn't say. They had never agreed on anything. Never got along. But Rick missed him all the same. He swore and Jonathan heard, but didn't say anything.

Something had to be done about this. Things couldn't stay this way. Rick looked out over the desert and wondered where the Book of Amun Ra was. If anything was going to stop the priest, it was going to be that. "All right, Jonathan," he breathed, looking to his friend. "You don't want me doing something stupid, right?" Evy's brother nodded and Rick smiled without the feelings to back it up. "Fine. I won't, but how would you like to help me with a little research?"

Jonathan cocked his brow and looked him over suspiciously. "What sort of research, Rick?"

"The 'where the hell is the Book of Ra?' kind. Even that's probably going to be dangerous somewhere along the road, but it's better than getting killed." He gave his friend a sidelong glance. "What do you say?"

Carnahan thought about it, mulling over the facts and looking caught between agreeing and not. Rick wouldn't blame him if he didn't. Men with blue eyes in Egypt weren't treated very kindly, assuming they weren't hauled into the nearest jail for bounty. But this would help Evy and there was no way Jonathan would stand aside for that. He smiled and nodded. "I'm in."

~~~~~~~

He had known this was going to turn out badly from the moment the guard had called for help. There would be losses this day. Many losses.

None so terrible as the ultimate blow that he was to be dealt by the end of the fight. Without reason the unknown attackers ceased the battle, turned away and rode out of the Med-Jai encampment like they had just defeated them. Of course that wasn't true, he could see his people still held to their great numbers. Why had they left so suddenly? Sajul knit his brows, watching one of his uncles run to a fallen friend. His heart hung heavy for the brothers, mothers and wives that had lost a loved one today.

He turned, meaning to go back to his tent and hide his heart from this mess, but something stopped him before he even took a step. Someone was lying upon the ground who should not be. Laughter flashed through his memory and pushed him forward. Sajul fell to his best friend's side, uncertainty passing through every corner of his mind. This could not be.

Ardeth lay on the sand, his eyes closed and blood trailing the side of his head. Sajul touched his friend's cheek, then noticed something. The rise and fall of his chest. His friend still lived. Immediately he whipped his head up and shouted, "I need help!" He was no healer.

Three men came and one knelt to examine the fallen warrior. Abdullah the Healer, who was highly skilled. Being the son of one of the elders, Ardeth was a top priority and would receive only the best attention immediately given the extent of his wounds. Sajul frowned, knowing he would not prefer it that way. He would prefer the others be looked at first and right now that mentality irritated his friend. He did not want to give Ardeth up to death yet.

Abdullah looked up and said, "His neck is not broken. We must bear him to his tent."

Sajul took up a position near Ardeth's upper body, thinking it somehow would make him closer to his friend. Together the four men lifted him and began. A voice called out suddenly and it made his heart sink. The voice was small and womanly, and terribly frightened. "Where is my brother?" she called out and Sajul heard her gasp. She came to his own side and looked into Ardeth's sleeping face. "What happened?"

"Wait," Sajul replied with a shake of his head. There were many grieved voices on the battlefield today, but hers stood out in his mind like a knife. Arya Bay silenced herself, probably with much effort, and followed with worried eyes.

They came to his tent and Arya held it open for the men to take her brother inside. Sajul noticed she did not come in. There was nothing he could do here but worry. As soon as Ardeth had been placed on his bed, he left the tent and met her outside. "What happened?" she asked again and this time she would have her answer if her tone said anything about it.

Sajul crossed his arms and shook his head. He had not seen his friend fall. "I do not know, but it appears someone hit him in the head."

Her dark eyes widened in fear at that. Wounds to the head could change a man's life drastically, even end it. "Not my Ardeth," she murmured. He was all this small woman had left. Sajul took her into his arms and they waited together.

Time passed and around dusk Sajul found himself sitting in watch over his brother-warrior. He had been sitting here for hours it seemed. The healer had attended Ardeth's gunshot, but could not revive him. Now they could only wait. Arya refused to leave Ardeth's side, waiting for any signs that he would awaken or even merely stir. There were none.

She was dreadfully quiet, which he had learned was her way when something frightened her this badly. Arya rubbed a cool rag over her brother's face, but said nothing to coax him back to wakefulness. It worried him for her, but what could he do? He could think of only one thing—to sit and watch over them as he had when they were all young.

Being the oldest of the three, Sajul had always been the elder brother to them. Arya was the instigator of their nonsense, Ardeth the sensible, obedient one and Sajul had been the one to bail them out of trouble. He had failed today. Ardeth lay gravely injured because he had failed to get him out of trouble this time. Oh, he knew Ardeth was a man now and Arya a woman, but he still felt like the older brother. He still felt responsible for the other two.

For the first time in hours she turned to him and her wet eyes struck him. "He is going to die," she whispered and he watched a tear trail her cheek.

Sajul shook his head and moved his chair closer. "You don't know that, Arya. Look at all he has been through. He alone stood with the westerners and succeeded in saving us all from He Who Shall Not Be Named. You and I both know he can do great things. He will make it."

His words didn't convince her. He could see it in her eyes, dark eyes that mirrored Ardeth's. But even still she nodded and touched his hand. "Thank you for your friendship to us, Sajul. He loves you as a brother, you know."

Sajul drew her close and kissed her forehead, sharing in her grief. "I know," he told her gently, looking down at her brother as he held her. "I know."

Midnight came and passed without incident. There had been no sign of the raiders, though they had learned the name of Ardeth's attacker. One of the young men reported seeing Ardeth fight a large man with a deep voice, who identified himself as 'Lock-Nah'. Tonight Sajul and a few of the men would go looking for this Lock-Nah. They would cut him open and leave him to die.

Arya had no knowledge of this, of course. She would forbid such savage vengeance that endangered them. She was a smart woman. Sajul eased himself up from his chair to leave, watching her watch her brother, but before he stood a sound came from Ardeth. A few small breaths, then a slowing. Arya hissed, "Abdullah!"

The healer had returned a little after midnight and stood in wait with them. At her call he came forward and pressed his fingers into Ardeth's throat. His head bowed when he drew them slowly away.

Abdullah crouched down and looked up. Arya gazed back with wet, pleading eyes and Sajul turned his to Ardeth. He was still breathing, but it seemed shallower, slower. He didn't need to hear the healer say, "He is dying, Arya. Ardeth is suffering right now and God is calling him. Do you understand this, child?"

"Yes," she whimpered softly and the healer stood. He left the tent without words, giving them privacy to make their good-byes. Sajul watched her grasp her brother's hand gently and kiss it. He almost didn't want to listen to her speak to him. Arya said only one thing to her brother, but that was enough and Sajul found his tears spilling over when she breathed, "I love you." Arya leaned over her brother, pillowing her head on his shoulder as she held him.

He couldn't say anything, not even good-bye. How could he? How could this be? He had so much to say, but couldn't bring a word of it to his lips. Too many memories were flooding into him right now, too many questions and wishes. Yet he could not leave his friend to die, not without being right there with him. Sajul pulled himself from the darkness and knelt down beside the bed, taking Ardeth's hand. "My friend," he whispered, bowing his head and closing his eyes. He did not want to see it happen. He didn't want to feel it happen, but he wanted his friend to know he was here.

They sat that way for some time before Sajul found a hand on his back. Arya pulled herself from her brother's body and got down on her knees beside the bed, drawing him back. "He's gone," she told him with tears in her eyes and no other words were needed. They fell into each other's arms and grieved. All Sajul could think of was her trembling voice, echoing that announcement through his mind. He's gone. He's gone.

This was wrong.

He stared again at that face, but this time was different. Ardeth lay as still as he had that horrible night, but looked much worse. A part of him mourned it, in truth. Something inside remembered. But another part, more dark and cruel and powerful, that part laughed at this vision before him. Laughed and seethed. Necromancer stretched out his hands towards his former friend, twisting his bony fingers as though he meant to attack.

A feeling in the distance stopped him and his hooded head turned to listen. With a screech Necromancer fled the scene in a flurry of black robes. Now was not the time.

~~~~~~~

Disclaimer: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer and Arya (and a few other insignificant originals) belong to me.

A/N: Er, see below. And I know…I know you prolly are all wondering what's gonna happen to Ardeth…and I worked so hard to delay that knowledge for another chapter after the last one. ;-) Muahahahaha. Hence Neccy's lil flashback. Hey, well I know Lula was interested in what had happened after Ardeth's fatal kick to the head…so here yar, my friend! :-D

Explanation: Hmmm. I'll prolly end up adding this note to the end of the next chapter (see, I know myself), but I want to point out to Marxie and all others wondering, I know Rick didn't "all out" betray him, which was why I put "unwittingly betrays" in the ah, teaser. :) No, Rick didn't technically betray him...but that doesn't mean certain other people might take it that way, seeing as Rick didn't even check to see if he were alive. If he had, I have no doubt he would have done something to save them both, or at least remain until he felt it was okay to leave. The object was to make Ardeth feel alone...that Rick didn't care to check on him because of his feelings concerning Evy.

So, was it a technical all out betrayal? No. Necromancer isn't exactly bubbling over with pure truth...he may twist things to hurt Ardeth, because he has insights into the future. The way he says something one way may totally color what really happens in a different way. :)

To Reviewers:

Dee – 4th time!? Wow! I'm extremely flattered! :-D Thanks very much! I'm glad you're enjoying this…and yes, I adore Ardeth/Evy as a pairing. :-D Too bad there aren't more out there! I don't 'spose you have any?? :-)

Mommints – Er…hate me? *gulp* Um…now if you're gonna send someone to kill me, at least give me a romp with Viggo Mortensen…he might do it if he's told it's my first and last time. ;-D He's reallllllllly sweet that way, I'm sure. Lol. Anyhoo, sowwy about Ardeth…I know I know. But ah…well…the story's a longun. ;-)

Marcher – I sure as heck aren't resurrecting Ardeth again. ;-) Thanks much for the compliment on the story…I think this is my fav as far as writing goes, so it's nice to hear that. :-)

Ruse - NEVER review your own stories, twit! UNLESS it's that Lord of the Rings story you're writing…that you can review if only for the sake of drooling over Elrond and Aragorn and Celeborn and Haldir and…and… :-D

Marx – Well, most of what I wanted to address I did in the review I left myself, but I've posted it up there just in case people didn't see. :-) Doh! Now I feel silly. ;-) But er, it's for a reason. Thanks! :-)

Serena – Thanks for the review! I can't help being cruel to Ardeth…it vents real life frustrations…muahaha! ;-) JK. Thanks for the review…I'm so glad you like it still!

Deana – Lol…sliced and diced. When I read that I heard Matthew Lillard in my head…he says that real funny in Scream. Lol. ;-) Poor Ardeth…he can't keep whole. Lol. Thanks, my friend!!