Speak Softly
Foolish Things

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.

~~~~~~~

Rick felt like he was worth about a hundred thousand dollars. Of course he didn't look nearly as rich as the people loading into the home of Aundre Hughes, especially as wet as he was with no umbrella, but that didn't stop him from feeling good about being clean, shaven and dressed in clothes that weren't beat up. Tonight was the night and against all odds he felt pretty optimistic.

Having cased the house for a few nights from a hill off the road with a series caves, Rick had learned the guards' habits, but as fortune would have it, all that was now unnecessary. The moment he had learned about the party, all plans changed. He was taking the direct approach. Wearing his clean clothes and smiling his brightest, Rick strolled right up to the front door, knocked and barged right in, acting as if he owned the joint.

The blue eyes got him a few odd looks, but seeing as about a quarter of these people were themselves westerners, they didn't press the issue and thought he probably belonged there as much as he let on. Snatching a cracker off a plate and mingling into the crowd, Rick let his eyes do all the important work, searching for the Key as he smiled nicely and nodded polite greetings to complete strangers. But as inevitability would have it, someone stopped him halfway through the room towards a set of stairs. "Hello," the man greeted with a confused smile, taking Rick's hand and shaking it. Blue eyes lulled him into a false sense of safety that was quickly squelched under the glare of a large guard nearby. "Name's Edwin Wright. You a friend of Audre's?"

Rick nodded without a beat, still peering around for the item of purpose, and breathed absently, "Oh sure. Where is that bastard, anyway? I've been looking for him." The stranger kindly pointed to a suave, half-Arabic man across the steel and glass room, a man with slicked, black hair who seemed to be sparing casual glances in their direction and Rick gave Wright a pat, then headed straight towards the host.

Aundre Hughes appeared very curious and a little uneasy about having an underdressed stranger in his home, but then again Rick guessed he probably knew very personally only half the people in this room. With a golden smile he approached, shoved his hand into Aundre's and said, "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Hughes. I'm a personal friend of Edwin's," he pointed, they looked and Wright was gracious enough to offer an unwittingly helpful wave, and Rick continued, "and he thought we should meet." The trick was to keep talking fast enough so Hughes would be thrown off and irritated into wanting Rick away. "See, I did some accounting for him and well, he thought you could use the help."

Hughes coughed at that and narrowed his brow in the general direction of Edwin, opening his mouth, but Rick stopped him. "Now, I know we should talk business elsewhere, but I had to introduce myself. Lovely house. You have excellent taste. Mind if I have a look around? To tell the truth I could stand a trip to your restroom, if you wouldn't mind."

Slightly ruffled and put off with this little interruption to his merriment, Aundre waved his hand and tilted his head back, snapping, "Reyhanen, please take this guest to refresh himself."

Rick looked beyond and watched as a tall woman came forward, her servant's clothes even richer than his own garb. He surmised she was a maid to this man, but she held her head prouder than that, with soulful eyes that commanded a man's attention whether he wanted to give it or not. Only when she came before him did she bow her head, but the quiet confidence never left her expression as she breathed, "Come this way, Sir."

Silently following, now a little distracted from the task at hand, he made his way through the crowd with her and was relieved when they entered a hallway alone. Something about her troubled him, aside from what ails a man who sees a pretty face. Somehow he felt that he should know her, though he had never seen her before. A face like hers he would remember very clearly.

She kept her dark eyes ahead, but the corners of her lips were touched by amusement as he kept darting glances back into her face. When she stopped before a large door and turned back, he swallowed and backed towards it when she said, "Here you are, Sir."

"Yeah, ah yeah," he muttered, grasping the handle and turning it without taking his eyes off her. Feeling sort of silly afterwards, he added, "Will you wait?"

At that those lips spread into a full, puzzled smile, but she nodded her willingness and folded her hands before her in a stance of waiting. He had to pull himself together or this was going to fail miserably. Disappearing into the restroom, Rick hastened to the sink, wet his hands and rubbed his face, trying to eat away time so he could think. All out stealing in plain view was out of the question, assuming the Key was in plain view, which he fervently prayed it was not. He supposed he could hide out for the night in some closet, but that was extremely risky. Straightening from the sink, Rick looked himself over and brushed his hair back, chiding himself with, "Smooth, O'Connell. 'Will you wait?'" He rolled his eyes and glanced at the door. Then there was this maid, who would be a problem if she followed him around all night. But then again, perhaps she could be useful.

Rick dried his hands and took one more look, then exited to find her gazing out the window at the storm raging outside. Lightening flashed through the windowpane, illuminating her glossy, black hair and he stood still to watch. Maybe it was Mayadeh. Maybe that's who she reminded him of. His mind flashed guiltily from her to Evy and back to this stranger, who said suddenly in her soft voice, "Shall I take you back?"

"No," he said in a hushed tone he hadn't meant to use. He coughed and straightened a little, then let his famous grin spread across his face. "I wonder if you wouldn't be nice enough to show me around. I don't exactly fit in out there, but I wouldn't want to be rude and leave so soon."

This strange woman narrowed her brow slightly at that, pursing her pretty pink lips. "What are your intentions?" she asked and his grin increased in size.

Rick pocketed his hands and cocked his head with a shrug. "You're kinda direct. That's a good thing." She frowned and he waved a hand reassuringly as he looked around the rich hallway and played the effects of his blue eyes for all they were worth. Inwardly he kicked himself for it, too. This really wasn't the time for that. "Sorry. I didn't mean anything. Just wanted to take a walk. I guess I could do that myself."

"No," she replied with a shake of her head as she began walking further down the hall without him.

Rick stood still, a puzzled expression finding his handsome features. "No?"

Reyhanen turned with a smile, hands on her hips as she repeated herself and then said smartly, "You are coming, aren't you?"

The ex-Legionnaire's grin returned full force as he nodded, joined her and wondered to himself how he was going to snatch that Key with her here. The old O'Connell charm, he decided, stepping a little closer. Perhaps with a little persuasion she could lead him right to it without being the wiser. "Reyhanen, huh? That's a really pretty name."

The tart little smile and flutter of dark eyelashes told him it might not be as simple as that as she replied, "It is a name, stranger."

"Oh, right." Rick stuck his hand out and grinned when she took it. "Name's Matthew Connor."

Reyhanen made a delightful guide as she listened to his stories about the Legion, her gaze knowing and amused as he spoke. Time passed quickly in her company and soon after much small talk and scouting for the Key, Rick found himself stopped by a good question. Who in their right mind would choose a false last name so close to the real thing? No one, which was why he had been certain 'Matthew Connor' would work. Only an idiot would do that. He sure felt like one right at the moment.

The hour was late, by now likely somewhere close to midnight. The party had likely either ended or at very least died down, leaving the maid and the guest wandering aimlessly with still no sign of the item he had come for. The few guards they passed had done nothing to interfere with their walk, but right now Rick silently wondered if that wouldn't have been better.

O'Connell rubbed the back of his neck, trying to figure out how to answer without landing himself in trouble. 'Honesty may be the best policy, but a white lie will save one's ass' Izzy had told him once and right now he was rather inclined to agree. He spread a half-grin across his lips and shrugged. "Rick O'Connell? Not me. I even have a mark. Wanna see?"

Reyhanen folded her arms together, her black eyes twinkling in confidence that she was right and he was an intruder. "Show me, Mr. Connor."

Shaking his head, Rick unbuttoned his shirt quickly and muttered, "You're gonna feel real silly in a moment, lady." He yanked the cloth aside, bearing his shoulder for her to see. "Happy?"

Reyhanen peered at his flesh with an intense gaze that almost made him blush. Those full, pink lips pursed in thought and he knew then that she understood what the marks meant. Her dark eyes raced up to his in recognition. "You're going to ruin all I have worked for here, Mr. O'Connell."

He blinked and closed his shirt up. "Never works. But will I learn?" Rick looked the tall woman over and nodded his defeat. "Okay. You got me. Are you gonna call the guards?"

She darted her eyes down the hallway in both directions, then shoved him back against a door, pressing herself against him. It was nice, actually, real nice until she turned the knob and it flew back on them. Rick found himself on the floor in short order, Reyhanen racing in behind and closing them in from prying eyes. As he made his way back up, she doused the lights and urged him to a window. "Don't be a fool, O'Connell. If that were my intent I would have called them before."

"Oh, well, gee. When you put it that way…" he began smartly, but her hand on his shoulder stayed his voice.

The maid shook her head. "He keeps the Key in his vault in the basement. Only he holds the key to that, in a small chest in his bedroom. The key to that chest is on his person at all times. Two men—usually brutes Hughes hired from the disbanded Tuareg tribe, always guard the vault." Reyhanen smiled against the pale light streaming through the window and her dark eyes held a strange mischief he could swear he had seen before. "I had wondered how I was going to get past those men. Now I have my answer."

Rick waved his hands, then ran one through his hair a bit uneasily. "Whoa, wait a minute. Who are you? You one of Jorin's men?" She didn't blush at his suggestive little leer towards the evidence that she was not exactly a man.

"I'm part of a resistance, you could say," she answered vaguely, winning a grunt from her companion. "For two years I have fought to win the trust of Master Hughes that I could get the Key and take it away from here. Now Allah has sent you to me and the time has come. If I help you, will you take me with you?"

It was a lot to swallow in so short a time. What if this woman were lying? This could very well be a trap. He didn't even know who she was working for and there were factions out there that not only sought to stop Imhotep, but to replace him with their own oppressor. He couldn't allow that, but for all the world it looked like he was going to need her help. And there was that certain something in those brown eyes of hers that asked him to trust her. "It'll be dangerous," he warned her uncertainly, fidgeting with his hands and keeping an eye peeled for dishonesty in her face.

Reyhanen rolled her eyes pleasantly and nodded. "Of course it will, but you will keep me safe." Rick cocked his head with a smart look, but she didn't let that stop her from totally commandeering him to her purposes.

"Right," he breathed, heading once more towards the entrance, but she stopped him. Quite suddenly he was pulled into a hug that felt a little different than just sensual interest between them. "What, I help save someone you knew?"

She held him a little longer before backing away, then answered his question with strangely deep, grateful eyes. "You were there for someone I loved." He wasn't sure how to answer this new softness and she spared him, the light in her eyes changing to purpose again before he could assimilate the moment. "I suggest you hide in his bedroom. He has one guard there that I can distract long enough for you to get inside. I have a key for cleaning that you can use to unlock it."

She opened the door and the light from the hall made him squint. Rick was pulled out and motioned to go right. "Okay, so what are you going to do?"

"I will wait in a room. I will show you." Reyhanen took his hand as they ascended a set of gray-carpeted stairs. "The chest with the vault key is in his desk, hidden beneath a false bottom in a drawer on the right side—the lowest from the top. Break it open, wait for Aundre, do what you must, but before we go to the vault I want the greater part of the household to believe he has gone to bed. You should knock him out and leave him in his bed, then dispose of the guard somehow when you exit. Then we'll go below."

They came to the upper floor and scurried quickly through a couple of twists and turns until the woman came to a door she found satisfactory for her wait. At that point Rick stopped her. "Look, I give you credit for thinking fast on your feet and that plan is good in theory, but do these guards carry guns—loud ones? Are there walking guards around this place at night?"

Reyhanen shook her head and urged him on towards what could very well be his doom. "No walking guards, but they do carry guns. You will just have to keep him from shooting." Drawing him down another hall, the maid turned her head with an impish smile. "I trust you will not fail."

The ex-Legionnaire grunted. "Did some jerk tell you your spunk was attractive? I mean it is, but I think I've lost complete control of my situation here."

"Men who give control to their woman are sure to do better than if not," she replied absently, stopping about two thirds down from another turn.

She smiled up at him and he straightened his posture a little, letting that devastating O'Connell charm peek out through bright, blue eyes and a wicked smile. "You saying I'm your man?"

Reyhanen's little hand curled around his shirt as she closed in to presumably kiss him, her other hand pressing a key into his. "I'm saying good luck." Rick moved his lips forward in sweet expectation, but was quickly denied as she dodged and hit his cheek instead. She then raced around the corner without another word, leaving him with the distinct feeling he'd just been shanghaied.

It was too late to turn back from this. He could hear her soft voice speaking to another gruff one about a window that was stuck in one of the rooms nearby. Rick waited a little nervously, hoping this went as well as this strange girl seemed to insist it would. He had the faint idea that if he did something to wreck it she might actually hit him. And then it caught him, the pair of footfalls that lead away. Rick eased himself to the corner, peered around and saw that there was only one door on the back wall.

O'Connell held the key ready, slid to the door and unlocked it, then entered the bedroom. "Well," he breathed to himself, daring the light for a moment to find the desk. When he spotted it, he flipped the light off and padded to the right side of it. "No sense in wasting time."

A few moments went by, producing a small chest with the passage. Rick carried it with him to the bed, flopped down and went through his pocket for a pick.

About an hour of muttered curses later he realized he was going to have to have the key after all. The lock was impossible and he grew frustrated, laying the box beside him on the softness. Just how long could this Aundre stay awake, anyway? By some mercy in Heaven Rick didn't have to wait long to find out. Ten minutes passed and brought the very man he had wanted to see. When the door finally opened and the light returned, Rick smiled and spoke with the closing of the door. "Do you mind? That's kinda bright."

Hughes had entered alone and was now livid. "What do you think you are doing in here?" he spat, his hand turning the handle.

Rick was on him before he could open the door, however, cupping his hand over the man's mouth so he could maintain silence. The struggle didn't last long between them. Aundre Hughes wasn't a very physical man and therefore paled in comparison to Rick's hard-earned ability. A few well-aimed punches and Hughes was gone. Once the man was properly dumped into his bed O'Connell grew more confident in his little maid's plan. Perhaps this wouldn't be so tough after all.

Boy was he wrong about that. He did manage to get rid of the guard, but that was quite a little bit more of an accomplishment than what Reyhanen may have intended. Who was he kidding? She would probably be smirking right now at his bruises and cuts. After a dirty scuffle Rick slammed the guy's head into the wall and decided to leave him laying there instead of hiding him. So they would make up for it with speed. He was tired.

He raced down the hallway and found her waiting in her room with a sweet expression. "You owe me," he gasped, stopping to let the air flow freely back into his lungs. If there were any way on this planet this little heist could wait until tomorrow, he felt he would have taken the rest in an instant. His right shoulder was bruised up and was going to smart for days.

"I owe you?" she questioned, her eyes ever amused at his attempt at valor.

He nodded and bent over to catch his breath, humming, "Mmm hmm." Reyhanen looked at him dubiously as he flashed her a puppy-dog look. "I thought maybe a kiss would be nice, after all I am saving your life here. A real kiss, mind you." Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn't. She wanted to, that he could tell. Rick O'Connell knew a flirt when he saw one. "You know it'll be good."

He stood up to meet her when she approached with pleasant intent. "It better be good. I suppose you've worked off a kiss." Her hand again wound around his shirt and with a jerk towards her, Rick found he was enjoying himself a little more than he may have liked.

But despite swirling thoughts of Evy and Mayadeh, he found himself pouting a little and nodding his agreement for effect. "I think I did."

"Oh, you poor baby," she soothed with a laugh, pulling him into her waiting mouth. A fiery tongue assailed his bottom lip and on further, then was pulled away almost as quickly as it had arrived. The maid winked, rubbed his cheek and then shoved his face away, leaving the room without waiting.

"You're a little spitfire, aren't you? I still might have to earn another one, you know, a longer one," he informed as he caught up and followed her quick gait through the darkened home.

They arrived at the cellar door without incident, but the hardest part was just before them, he knew. Turning with a grave expression, now willing to actually include his opinion, she asked, "Are you ready? These guys are generally big."

~~~~~~~

This was the glory he had craved after for ages. Fate had wronged him, but he was on the verge of having his suffering repaid. The world could fight him every step of the way, but he would emerge the victor and have what he so desired. This world would be his for its crimes against him.

The night was quiet, almost too quiet for comfort. At least the tent kept him from prying eyes, for the slaves constantly stared at him in their lowly begging, but right now he did not have such luxuries as generosity. He needed people to fight and die for the future he was going to forge. And so he sat back in a grand chair, his arms draped along the arms and his body limp in relaxation as he fought for some sort of strategy in ending this battle with the Scorpion King.

Ardeth blinked and stared ahead at the dusty tent wall, unable to stop the melancholy from weighing him down. It was ever a part of him, this deep emptiness that kept him in perpetual smothering, but over the years he had grown used to it and able to function towards his purposes. The Hom-Dai had not conquered him yet, nor would it ever. He was stronger than the curse and stronger than this earth. Stronger than time.

But this was not his life. It affected him as though it were, but he knew he was not this thing that had risked all and lost his soul for love. He was not this jaded being that could not see himself diminishing beneath the weight of darkness. When Evelyn addressed him as Imhotep and when he replied with the priest's words, he knew that it was a dream and nothing more. Yet sometimes it was difficult to tell the difference. Sometimes he could almost forget he was Ardeth Bay and live this life, for though empty and painful, it was powerful as well. The curse was suffocatingly seductive as it consumed, offering domination to fuel Imhotep's fire. Ardeth could almost feel the world in his grasp, could almost want to fill himself with the bittersweet beauty that was Ancksunamun. Only the world crying out and Evy's frightened face kept him from staying in this world.

The entrance to the tent opened and he sighed, his mood not set for some intruding messenger or servant. And thankfully that was not who entered. It was Imhotep's love that came and Ardeth steeled himself for the emotions to come, for they were strong and penetrating to the very core. Somewhere beneath all that infatuation with what he could not have Imhotep really did love her. "Ancksunamun," his own lips said with his own voice, but the catch was Imhotep's.

The young woman came in with a quiet smile, knelt before him and pulled his hands into hers. "My lord." It was like a prayer when she said it, and Imhotep answered swiftly, the need in his heart moving him to action before she could speak again.

He was down from the chair and into her arms in one fluid motion and Ancksunamun welcomed him unlike any other had before. Her eyes sparkled as she brushed a hand across his cheek and leaned forward. The kiss did more than fill his empty heart, it took it and broke it again and mended it, all in the span of a few seconds and Ardeth almost understood why this was so important to the priest, why he would give up his very soul for this. "Ancksunamun," he whispered, letting his dark eyes take her in unguardedly. "Are you fulfilled, my love?" Whether or not he could escape the emptiness did not matter as long as she were happy. But Ardeth knew, for he had his own objectivity, that soon it might not be so. Soon the curse would corrupt the last of Imhotep's failing humanity and after that nothing would touch him. He could feel invisible hands caressing up the shoulders of his enemy to find and wrap around his throat. And it almost saddened him, for Imhotep was too far gone and too arrogant to see it happening.

"I am," was her reply, soft and sweet as one of her hands disappeared into his robe to find his side. "I see your heart, my lord. You worry, do you not? What shall I do to chase it away?"

Ardeth embraced her into him and sent his lips over her throat in a pleasant search for the warm taste of her skin. It caused her breathing to catch and with that, he grinned, Imhotep loving even the smallest of her reactions to his love. Anything to give him warmth in his cold existence. "I do not doubt this world will be ours." But when had that become their dream? When had love not been enough? Imhotep had forgotten, but drove for it nevertheless with need to see it done. Yet Ancksunamun still held sway in these precious last years of humanity. He would listen to her if she would but talk to him. "What do you want of me? Does this future please you? Or tell me you want to leave this world behind, find happiness in solitude and so shall it be, for I live to do your will, my queen."

Ancksunamun gazed back intently with a soft smile playing across her lips, her desire plain to see making him forget his previous thoughts. "The world is ours for the taking, Imhotep," she told him. He was still willing to take a step back from the edge of evil, but Ancksunamun was exactly the wrong thing for him, for her own wounds would see her leading him to the darkness, that she could be the master instead of the servant. "Is this not what you want? To be free forever of bondage and the whims of another? To control our destiny and forge this world into something that is right?"

Those invisible hands drew closer to the source of Imhotep's life. His intentions grew further from wanting to rule in fairness and more to see his own will accomplished, for power was intoxicating. And so Ardeth nodded, knowing that Imhotep would fail.

"Do you know what he dreams?" Necromancer said almost immediately after the vision abated. Forced to take shelter for a few days in an abandoned village, both Ardeth and his unwanted guest sat quietly inside a little building that was falling apart. The storm had grown too terrible to endure for fear of losing their way, so the dead Med-Jai had reluctantly agreed to allow the wait. After they were safe inside and a fire had been built, Ardeth had become very drowsy, a sign that he would dream.

He was thankful this time that his limbs were still intact, not being shredded by his ill-favored companion. Ardeth sat up from the forgotten couch he had fallen asleep upon, rubbing his forehead as he shook off the effects of living life as Imhotep had. It was so unlike anything he had ever experienced, so dark and terrible. He pleaded with Heaven to take the insight back, but somehow he had the impression he would be made to endure. The necromancer watched him intently from a chair in the shadows, the corners of those thin lips tilted slightly in amusement. Slowly the question he had asked came flitting back into the Med-Jai's memory, causing him to unconsciously delve into the mind of the enemy on the other end of the mental link.

The priest was far away and the link now flimsy, but if Ardeth concentrated enough he could pick out an emotion here, a vision there. There was great pain involved in whatever Imhotep was seeing. Great pain and something else, something soft and private. Ardeth closed his eyes when he realized what the evil priest was now living. That was something he did not want to share with anyone, least of all this man who had taken everything from him. "He sees what he cannot have, but will try to possess," Necromancer supplied, his hiss barely discernable from the winds raging outside.

"So he does," Ardeth replied, exhaling and allowing himself to give up the anger at such a thing. There was a reason he was having these visions and that reason included Imhotep gaining certain insights as well. But why that memory? That was something between he and Evelyn alone, but now it was tainted by a third person living the events.

The small fire in the fireplace flickered gently and Bay found himself drawn to watching it, letting his mind wander back into the priest's sleep. He couldn't see what Imhotep was seeing, but the feelings were there. They were brighter than he remembered, intoxicating and sweet. Imhotep was enjoying this, even though his heart felt the brokenness Ardeth had when seeing his people. He wanted this for himself, was considering what life in a dream would be like for the rest of eternity.

And then it was gone. The dream completed with the same ending Ardeth and Evelyn had found together in the sand. Imhotep awakened, now aware that he was being watched and Ardeth felt apathy towards his concerns reflected in the other's thoughts. Necromancer laughed at this and rubbed his left wrist. "Do you know what he will now do?"

The Med-Jai nodded softly, sensing the intent of the other mind. "He will try, but he will fail."

Necromancer hissed, watching ever intently, ever amused. It could be felt plainly. Imhotep's lusts were indeed now enflamed, but it wasn't enough, Ardeth could feel. He wanted a return to what he had been dreaming of, a replacement of more than a warm body. The priest wanted a willing companion who, if she couldn't love him, would fall to his seduction of her own will and lust. Evelyn had a battle before her—a battle between hope and despair.

"You think he will fail," the creature amended darkly, rubbing his hands together, impatient for the outcome of what would transpire elsewhere in the world. "And even if he does, he will try again. He speaks to her."

Ardeth remained silent, keeping his own vigil over another's actions. Imhotep's needs stirred, his thoughts bent on Evelyn and the things that would take place. He would try, but Necromancer was right. If he failed, he would try again and the Med-Jai feared someday the numbers would fall to the priest's favor.

Necromancer studied him for a long span, watching his friend watch the flames and probably sifting through every emotion. It was beyond Ardeth's care in the face of what was happening to Evelyn so far away. Too far, almost forever out of his reach. He should have fought all hell for her freedom that night he, O'Connell and Carnahan had broken out of the palace. He should have insisted and returned for her. Now she would suffer for it, for his lack of wisdom. How could he have left her, knowing what Imhotep would do to her?

"Why do you love her so?"

The sudden, neutral question brought Ardeth's attention away from listening to Imhotep's feelings and brooding. He looked up at his companion with a frown, feeling no need to justify himself to this being of evil. "You would not understand."

Necromancer followed Ardeth's previous gaze and looked to the flames. It was Bay's turn to study the other and he would have given almost anything to understand the reasons, the hate and the suffering he saw in those eyes. "I would not understand," he whispered in a voice that considered the possibility and effects of not understanding. "If only that were so."

As those cold eyes slid back to Ardeth's he was reminded of the old Sajul, who had laughed with him on the morning of his death. He saw such want reflected in the other's watch, such longing and sadness. He wanted to understand. "Why do you hate me?"

Again Sajul looked away, hiding his emotion with an attempted snort of dismissal, but there had been something in those eyes for a brief moment that made him realize just how much his friend may have suffered to become what he was. Blame, hurt, sorrow, all mingled with a curse. "For love I hate you, Ardeth. For everything I was that you bettered. For everything you weren't and everything she would not let me be. For being all she loved and leaving her to grieve so much that she could not open heart to love again. You were not all she had, but she refused to see it. You were not all our people had."

Shaking his head, not understanding, Ardeth breathed, "What?" Sajul looked at him bitterly. "Who are you speaking of?"

"You would not understand," he shot mockingly, drawing his robes around him. He drew his chin up and glared. "It is old business. Our people no longer remember either of us. These cares do not move the dead."

His expression said he would keep whatever was on his mind just where it was and no further. From his words Ardeth could piece together that Sajul had been jealous of him, but this woman he spoke of escaped him. He had never been any woman's all, none save perhaps his sister but that certainly never meant anything other than their sibling relationship. "Was it Arya?" he asked gently, looking to the aloof creature across the room.

Necromancer glared death in the darkness and wrapped his arms across his chest. "Shut up, Ardeth."

~~~~~~~

Disclaimer: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya, Layla, Sania and Reyhanen (and a few less significant originals) belong to me.

A/N: :O Here is more…hope you all enjoy! And I hope these chapters aren't getting too long…I condensed two Rick scenes into one to sort of hasten future action so it doesn't drag out among many chapters…hope that was a good choice. :D

To Reviewers:

Jessie C – Thanks! I hope you enjoyed! :D

Marxbros – Evy wasn't Evy in Inescapable???? :O *sniff* Thanks for the review…I may or may not continue that story on the soon…hehehe. And thanks for reviewing this one, naturally. Don't you just love when ff.net cuts out right when you've done something and hit submit? :O Thanks for your continued compliments, I feed off them happily ;-) and I look forward to seeing more Hereafter! ;-)

Deana – Thank you muchly for the review, my friend, and helping me discern what's lame and what's not. :D Much appreciated. You rock! (Oops, that came out rick first time around :-) Thankya muchly!

Mommints – Thankya thankya, my friend! :D Glad to see you back around ff.net with even a new story up your sleeve, no less. Excellent, excellent! :D Thank you very much for your compliments…they are mine, my own, my precious! I mean, yes. They help me know I'm doing okay! :D

Lula – You'd better say 'our'! *sniff* I wuv Ardeth and he has to be mine at least some of the tiiiime! :O BTW, did you say Immy sleeps naked? I'll have to get a look at that! ;D Mmmm. I'm glad they didn't see fit to make Imhotep ugly…it just wouldn't have been the same if he weren't Arnold Voslooooo. :D Thank you for the review and your call to know what happened prompted me to add that bit at the end of this chapter…as sort of a hint as to some of the reasons Neccy's got such a problem. :D I'm glad you're enjoying my Neccy…I like vicariously being evil through him in my writings. ;D Thank you thank you!

Dead-Girls-Watch – Thanks! It's my hope to convey some feeling-bad for Imhotep…cause after all, I wuv him and he needs some credit. *sniff* Just a moment's understanding. :D Thanks muchly for your continued compliments, you totally rock! :-)

Marcher – Yeppers…a brand new weakness for Imhotep, among other things. :O Thanks for your review and mentioning the interaction between Imhotep and the sleeping Evy…I had worried that would seem too much, but I think it wasn't, so this is good. :D As for that Club Med deal, well, I'll just take Ardeth there myself. ;D Ah, if only there were a true matrix out there, where I could have him for real. *lesigh* Anyway, thanks for the compliments…if Neccy gets a bit Gollumish I'll take that as a compliment, since Golly's cool! :D