Speak Softly
The Beginning of the End

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.

~~~~~~~

"Well…hell."

Rick lay flat on his stomach across the top of a sand dune, watching the city and muttering dark obscenities beneath his breath. A cooling breeze swept over his dirt-dusted and possibly unattractively scented body, tempting him with calm and softness. But it wasn't enough to sweep away what lay before them. This might not turn out to be one of his easier nights if Jorin betrayed him and what really got him, what really clenched the disquiet within and made his teeth grit was that stupid song that wouldn't leave him a moment's peace. O'Connell shot a decidedly off little look down the dune at his partner in crime, cursing that lovely voice for singing the other day, of all things, the chorus of 'Cheek to Cheek'. Even now she hummed it every so often because she knew, she knew and took advantage of the fact that it got to him.

But at least they were safe and that he was thankful for. Hughes had missed them, giving them a fair shot away from his little home and on into the desert. That was not to say there had been no close calls. Patrols had been sighted in the distance and the girl's current state of health hadn't helped when it came to running, but they had actually made it. Perhaps from the pot into the fire, but it was an accomplishment Rick was proud to be a part of. Reyhanen had certainly helped for her part as well. She was smart, if a little reckless, and knew how to listen keenly and had a fair intuition for when to stay still and when to attempt a run.

During quiet moments like these he often allowed himself to imagine up a past for her that would explain away these qualities too, for that was something she was not very talkative about. Very interested in learning about him, hearing stories of his past and sharing talks in the dark when they rested in the black open desert, but evasive when it came to her own stories. She was a vixen and mystery, one he fully intended to unravel one way or another.

Reyhanen peered up from tending her wounded leg, caught his stare and smiled. Her rich voice was matter-of-fact and teasing. "Do you have a problem, O'Connell?"

He left the city alone, crawled back in the sand until he was level with the lovely maid and exhaled his frustration. "It's not going to be easy, sneaking into that city. I only saw a few, but I can just about guarantee Jorin's men are crawling all over the place." The fading light of an evening passing into dusk obscured much, but where he saw a few he knew there was bound to be more keeping an eye out for him and possibly Jonathan as well. Rick scratched through the new stubble on his jaw and looked his pretty companion over, suggesting, "I could leave you here. Go see if I can't find Jonathan by myself and return when I'm sure it's safe."

The woman shook her head, rubbing near her pained leg. He could tell by the light in her dark eyes that she wasn't going to go for it. "I'll be safer with you. If those men know we're out here and see you leave me alone, they might get curious and that is not the sort of attention I would enjoy." A smile found her full lips, barely seen in the dark, but just enough to make him mirror it. "I'm not overly fond of killing, understand."

It sounded like a joke, but with her Rick could only guess how much of a grain of truth might be in that statement. He leaned back on his elbows and inhaled the clean air, unwilling to fight her on this and sure she was probably the wiser anyway. "Okay. We'll take our chances together, then. But I'll warn you, Jorin makes his money by selling pretty girls like yourself. You might have done better staying back with your former employer."

"No," she replied with a shake of her head. "I trust you completely. I know we'll be all right."

"You're giving me a hell of a lot of credit, lady."

Reyhanen gave him one of those smiles. That sweet little grin Evy sometimes had worn when he was 'being cute'. God, he missed her so much it hurt sometimes. All alike, they were and the more wily ones could pull his strings just right if he wasn't careful to watch for it. Women, he thought wryly as he indulged her with a raised eyebrow. But she said nothing of what amused her. "Shall we go, Rick?"

He nodded softly and held out a hand to his companion, breathing his answer as he wondered how Evy was just now. "Yeah."

~~~~~~~

Days had gone by and still he offered nothing in the way of what he wanted or why they were here. Jonathan assumed perhaps he was being held here for some reason tying in to Rick, though Jorin gave him little reason to believe that either way. In fact he could be here for the sole purpose of being sold as a slave or to critique his taste in art for all he was revealing. Jonathan kicked his feet up on the coffee table centered to the leather couch he was lounging on in the guest quarters he shared with the tykes.

At a small, round table nearby Kaysaan looked at him over a glass of milk, studying him intently as he sometimes did, so he resolved to put a good face on his confusion and concerns. Everything was under control. Jorin's control, but control none the less. He exhaled and looked for little Sania, for it was she he worried about most. She was really quiet and shied away from Jorin whenever he dropped by, after all, this was the man they were all warned about and feared. A local horror story brought to real life before her eyes.

Then there was Jorin's interest in Evy, too. That concerned Jonathan a great deal because he knew the criminal's business was of the dirty variety. Why did he care to mention his sister or give him slack because he happened to be related to her? Surely he knew that there was nothing Jonathan would do to put her in danger and even if he were so unscrupulous and uncaring there was another thing standing in the way of anyone ever dreaming of obtaining Evy and that was Imhotep. Driven by love Jonathan and their little circle of family had enough trouble with getting her away from him.

He sighed and fidgeted with his sleeve, thinking of his poor baby sister. Jorin had told him one thing and that was that his sister was now a married woman. It had been announced over the radio that 'the Great King Imhotep had taken a bride' and 'the world would now call Nefertiri its queen'. Poor little thing, he thought sadly. She must be devastated. He didn't even know where she was.

A knock pulled him out of his brooding. Sania came out of hiding when the door opened, having stuffed herself into a large chair with a blanket over her head. The little girl snuggled up beside him, leaned back into the cushion and watched as the intruder entered. It was the black mercenary that had helped them. He narrowed his brow, but before he could speak a rebuke or anything of the sort, Jonathan chuckled and said, "I see you didn't get shot."

The thin man crossed his arms testily. "Right, well, I'm in a good enough pinch as it is. Cost me a clean five hundred pounds, that information I gave you. Jorin's making me pay every cent of it. If I run away, then I'll get shot. Anyway, Jorin wants to see you in his office. You can bring the little ones."

"Who's a little one?" Kay said indignantly, wiping his milk mustache off on his sleeve. "What's that jackass want with us, anyhow?"

Jonathan eyed the boy with an unenthusiastic expression. The mercenary grinned fondly and nodded towards him. "Reminds me of me when I a little one."

Kaysaan stuck his tongue out. "Yeah, thanks for the warning." Sania giggled and got up from her seat when Kay offered his hand to protect her, a promise he had made the first night here when she refused to go to sleep for fear of being taken away.

Jonathan pulled himself from the couch, straightened his jacket and fixed his gaze on the mercenary. "Lead away, then. I don't suppose you know what this is all about?"

"Not a clue and I wouldn't tell you if I did," was the reply as they headed out into the hallway. At least the mercenary was alive. That spoke something of Jorin, of a possibility that he was reasonable enough to give them a break.

When they reached well-guarded office he saw that it was even more pleasant than the guestrooms and halls, rich in colors of black, white and tan. Behind an oak desk sat the mastermind himself, looking smug, and Jonathan smirked at the ridiculous display. The mercenary took on a chair nearby and made faces with Kaysaan while Carnahan stepped on up to the plate. "I take it you're finally going to let us in on why you're holding us here?"

Jorin smiled and leaned back in his chair. "That's such an ugly term. 'Holding'. Let us say instead I urge you to stay."

Taking a chair across the desk, Carnahan nodded. He would have backed down at that, he knew. He would have been lavish with his apologies, but he felt he had been pushed far enough this time. "Right, as I was saying, the reason you're holding us here?"

The criminal was unimpressed and watched him for a long, uncomfortable moment. Perhaps I'm laying it on a little thick, Jonathan admitted to himself with a nervous sigh. "We are getting off on the wrong foot," Jorin announced after he had come to whatever assumption about Jonathan's character he had been formulating. "Come, do not take this as a threat, Mr. Carnahan. I bring you here out of friendship. Rick O'Connell is on his way here right now, I was told and I merely wish to reunite two friends."

"O'Connell?" the mercenary cut in, startled. "Rick O'Connell is coming here?"

Jorin gave him a firm look and the question was withdrawn, but he conceded to allow the mercenary an answer. "Perhaps I am reuniting more than one old friend at that. Yes, Rick O'Connell approaches. He was seen on the horizon and could very well be entering this building as we speak. He has a woman with him."

Jonathan sat forward, his interest perked. "A woman? Evy?"

"That was not known, but I highly doubt it considering how recent her marriage was announced," the criminal boss replied mildly. That interest in his eyes sparked again and Jonathan frowned noticeably. Jorin narrowed his brow. "You seem to have a problem with me, Mr. Carnahan. I have offended you somehow, by giving you a comfortable room?"

Shaking his head, Jonathan let his frown deepen. "No, you've offended me by taking this poor little girl's mother and selling her like some sort of commodity! Not to mention her other daughter! Only God knows what situation you've put them in, but I do intend to get them out of it!"

A few tense moments passed before the criminal answered to that, cool and calculated. "And would you have such venom for me had it been someone else? I assure you it was nothing personal. She was not harmed by any of my men and…"

A knock cut them off with the sound of a familiar voice, aggravated and tired. A smile spread across the criminal's lips as he called for the door to be opened. "All right," O'Connell said as he entered and Jonathan turned around in his chair in relief. "I got your…Jonathan?" His smirk died into surprise and relief.

"I'd watch who you're selling me off to, O'Connell," Carnahan greeted, shaking his friend's hand and watching a limping woman enter behind, unobtrusively seeking a seat by the children. She was quite attractive, but though logic had warned him of this his heart sank that it wasn't Evy and he wondered if Rick knew the terrible news. If he didn't know he would probably blow a gasket when he was told. Jonathan decided to feign ignorance until a proper moment presented itself, say when Rick was behind bars somewhere.

Rick gave the slaver a knowing little look. "I see Jorin's kept you in one piece. Good for him. Had me worried there for a little while."

Another voice entered the fray before Jorin could reply. "O'Connell, you stupid son of trollop! I ought to have my boss here set his boys on you!"

Rick's surprised expression returned as he looked for the person matching the miffed, if a touch nostalgic, voice. He suddenly grinned at another familiar face. "Izzy? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Getting swindled by your friend and his two brats, that's what!" Izzy retorted hotly. "I might have known a person like him would have dealings with you!"

O'Connell shrugged smoothly. "What can I say, Iz? It's a gift, being popular." Jonathan, the mercenary and the strange woman all rolled their eyes, the latter perking Carnahan's interest in just who she was. Ignoring it all Rick reached into his pocket, removed an item and tossed it at Jorin. "A gift, with the help of my lovely friend back there. Hope you don't mind me bringing her here and oh, if you touch her, Jorin, I'll kill you. A couple times if I can find the Black Book again."

The criminal waved an apathetic hand at the mutterings around the room, forgetting everything around him and immersing himself in what Rick had obtained. Jonathan widened his eyes when he realized what it was. "Th-the Key!"

"Yep," O'Connell agreed, patting his pockets out of habit only to come back empty. "So, Jorin, about that preoccupation with history. That's a pretty important part of it, wouldn't you say?"

Jorin looked up in genuine pleasure. "One might see it that way." His brow narrowed, but the carefree expression remained as if he were amused. "My men who saw you coming said you were being a little secretive about your movements. Keeping to the darkness and watching your back. You weren't planning on spiriting your friend away and taking my Key with you, were you?"

Rick nodded without a beat. "Actually, that was what I was planning on doing. I don't exactly trust you. One of your lackeys has a broken nose for manhandling Reyhanen over there, by the way. I'm sure he'll come whine about it later, but I wanted you to know from me why I hit him. So, what's the deal, anyway? What happens now that you have what you want? You said something about paying me?"

"Ah, but I don't have everything I want, my friend," Jorin replied with a glint in his dark eyes. "I mentioned having another job for you and I think I trust my instincts regarding you and yours. But my type of business offends Jonathan, here. It seems I've sold a few of his friends. I, of course, cannot rectify this other than passing along their locations, but I do apologize. It was my hope to count you as friends."

O'Connell noticed and waved down Jonathan's sudden need to speak. "So why don't you start by being honest about why you want the Key?" he replied, taking a seat on his desk. The criminal took no offense at the higher position Rick was placing himself in and even smiled again.

He nodded thoughtfully after weighing the options. "Very well. But in that is the next job offer I intend to make. You see I want the Book of Amun Ra. I was not entirely honest with you about my opinion of Imhotep before, Rick. In truth, before I could not care less about our little king, but let us say I have certain reasons now to want revenge on him. My reasons are my own, but you and I strive for the same goal. His ultimate and hopefully painful destruction."

"Okay," the ex-Legionnaire breathed. "Give me the Key, I'll get the Book and kill him myself."

Jorin nodded with a thoughtful smile. "Ah, but this would require trust on my part." His tapped his fingers on the desk as he looked them all over in hopeful uncertainty. "I worked very hard to learn who had that Key and invested a lot of money into seeing this secret goal of mine come to fruition. And neither do you trust me. We are at a difficult stage in our relationship, but if we both want Imhotep dead I think we can manage so precarious a marriage of skills. I have men that are loyal, men that can guard the Key. You have a certain knack for good luck concerning Imhotep."

Jonathan shook his head, not wanting to put trust into this man. Something about him warned him off and he wasn't going to forget what kind of person Jorin was. "So, what is it that you want?" he asked in a clipped tone.

The kingpin shrugged. "Nothing right now. I will keep the Key, of course. You may leave this town at will and enter without fear. All I want is an open door. I do not yet know where the Book of Amun Ra is, but should I discover its location I would like to know we can negotiate the possibility of pooling our resources."

"Yeah, and keeping your nose clean," Rick added with a smirk.

"My arrangements are not without their bonuses." Jorin pushed his chair back and stood up, extending his hand. "Think on it. Your room is still available, Mr. O'Connell. With a bed big enough for two, I believe." He motioned to the wide-eyed companion of Rick's. "I will have someone who is not so insensitive as to put his hands where they do not belong see to your lady."

Rick looked uncomfortable with these unexpected developments, making Jonathan wonder what conversation had taken place before he had left. They certainly had much to catch up on. "Yeah," O'Connell said a little warily, nodding his head and brushing his suspicions aside for the moment. "I'd appreciate that. I'll think about it, Jorin, and after a little discussion between friends we can talk."

"Of course, of course." The criminal offered a smile and a glance down at the still seated Carnahan. "But I was hoping I could talk to Jonathan here for few moments, if that's all right. An unrelated matter, understand. Please, take advantage of my hospitality. My city is yours."

Jonathan was about to protest, but a look from Rick stopped the words on his lips. He frowned at the presense of this man, but decided to endure it anyway, hoping for information on Layla if nothing else. "Rick, take the kids, would you?"

Kay stepped right up with feasting eyes on O'Connell's lady friend, pulling a shy Sania behind and Rick looked down at them uncertainly. The little girl graced him with the beginnings of a crushy smile and even spoke to him. "You make Jonathan carry your bottle?" His friend shot him a flat look.

"I don't think Rick's your type," Carnahan affirmed quiet seriously, motioning the brood on with another pleading look at O'Connell. "Go with this man. He's nice…most of the time anyway." Sania blushed deeply and hid behind Kay when the ex-Legionnaire flashed her a winning smile as his mercenary friend opened the door to be rushed by scurrying children.

Once the group herded out Jonathan exhaled in irritation and turned back to their oh-so-witty host. Jorin looked on him with unconcealed interest in his dark gaze, which increased the uneasiness in him. He could feel time eating away at him, whispering of the things Layla might be suffering all because this man wanted to make a little money. "Well, what do you want?" he asked testily and the criminal smiled.

"To talk, my friend. About your friends that I sold and about something else that's been on my mind. My dreams. Tell me, what do you know of Pharaoh Seti I?"

~~~~~~~

He heard pacing outside of his cell—had heard it for the past five minutes, but had not taken the trouble to open his eyes and see what it was that Imhotep wanted. The priest was still very angry, viciously angry, but calm enough to act on thought rather than impulse. Something inside of him was still trying to be good and human despite all the darkness he wanted to let fill him. And Ardeth wondered why. He did not begrudge this evil creature's want to try, but why should he care to? "I do not know." His voice was hard, bitter and exhausted. Imhotep exhaled and stopped somewhere before the cell. "What do I know of goodness and purity, Ardeth Bay? You are right. Why should I try?"

Ardeth opened his eyes and lifted tired lids enough to look at his enemy. He lay curled up on his bunk still, feeling battered and broken. Sweat and blood covered him, but still he found courage to speak to this insane being what he believed to be true. "Because you want to know if you truly are as hopeless as you believe."

Keys jingled as Imhotep pulled them from his pants pocket and unlocked the cell door. He entered and on him Ardeth saw the evidence of his treating Evy from the cold. His own blood, passed to Evy from him, now covered the front of the king's fine white shirt, his sleeves were pushed up and his expression was lost and furious. "I will kill you for disobeying my command," he stated simply. Do you still believe I have hope? The thought was filled with sarcasm. He wanted to give in to the dark, Ardeth realized. Wanted to lose himself again and be free of pain.

Ardeth tensed as Imhotep approached him, but held his own, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop the priest if he so desired to torment him. "Kill me if you must, but I believe as long as you care you will always have hope." The priest's eyes narrowed in contempt, as if he thought he were being toyed with. Still, Bay continued, treading a thin line. "You never intended to hurt her this badly, did you? You know she cared for you somewhere inside and now that's gone and you regret it."

"I regret it." Imhotep knelt down before him, watched him with a cocked head and knit brows. This was not the face of a monster anymore, but of a man driven to the brink of pure evil. A man that might be able to save himself if he could get past his petty pride. If he had the strength to conquer himself. "Yet she will hate me now without ceasing. And the fact remains that you both disobeyed your king. I will not allow either of you to hide from punishment, just as I could not hide. You shall die and she shall fulfill her duty as wife. You know you can do nothing to stop this. You know I will not change my mind."

It was true. He could sense the need for justice covering all of the creature's thoughts and desires. Ardeth exhaled and nodded, closing his eyes. "But you will be merciful to her. You will not hurt her as you wish you could. You will never let go of that humanity that keeps you from total destruction."

Imhotep grunted and reached for him, causing Ardeth to startle at the sudden contact on his arm. He opened his eyes into the face of rage and age old resent. "No, I will not hurt her again. Nor will I allow her to hurt me."

The priest stared at him with that intention glaring through his dark eyes and Ardeth doubted not that Imhotep would hold to his demands and hold Evelyn prisoner for the rest of her life. Ardeth feared for Evy in that, for even if he never brutalized her, the life of a slave would kill her even still. And he could not fight the deep well of sorrow inside that came from that thought. He would not be here to save her from it. And Imhotep reveled in this pain that he called retribution as he began to chant, to share his life once more, enough to help the blessing prolong his enemy's life. Just enough. This time Ardeth's wounds did not disappear nor the heaviness in his chest abate, but his blood was strengthened enough to stop the impending death that loomed over him. He felt himself loosed from the grasp of heaven's embrace once more.

Ardeth closed his eyes as darkness swirled again through him, filling him with its sickly sweetness. Another part of the curse tainted his being. He wanted death in that moment, wanted to escape the helplessness of the Hom-Dai touching him, but he drew hope in that another part of the blessing had become part of Imhotep as well. If it could keep him from becoming consumed with evil, it could save Evelyn from more torment than she was already doomed to endure. His violation was well worth the price for her safety.

The creature let him go. "You asked me for mercy on her and for her I freely give it because I have the means. That is the mercy I give to you both, that she is taken care of and has a proper life. Understand, however, that I will not extend this mercy to you beyond the trip to Egypt. I warned you to stay away and you failed. Therefore you will die. The gift that I give you is time, a thing I was not allowed before my price was set and forced upon me. When we reach the Field of the Med-Jai, we shall see if the necromancer was correct in his assumption that nothing could kill you but your own hand."

Bay coughed and remained still, fighting the fresh darkness and the weariness his oncoming sickness from the cold brought. "You know she will never love you," he spoke into the shadows as Imhotep rose to his feet and began to leave. He knew what Ardeth was getting at, what the Med-Jai wanted know. Whether or not this would matter to him. Whether or not this came from selfish desire or true compassion. Imhotep stopped at the cell door and turned with neutral eyes.

"I know."

~~~~~~~

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

A/N: Sorry this has been a while! Been caught up in writing a Matrix fic. *swoon* Love my Agent Smith! ;-)

To Reviewers:

Marcher – There's something wrong with the world. You don't know what it is, but it's there like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad. ;-) Sorry, had to do that after your email. Hehehe! Thanks, my friend! Hehehe…aye, I aim to confuse. ;-) I'm happy you're enjoying this! :-D As for what will bring Immy down, who knows? ;-) I'm still in the process of wondering myself. *scratches head*

Wildcardgal – Yikes! You flatter me! *blush* Thank you! :-D I'm happy you like this. Thank you also for reviews on Bloodlines and When The World Ends. Glad you enjoyed. :-)

Imhoteps Lover – Thanks! Glad you're enjoying! :-D Hope you continue to whenever you catch up! :-D

Deana – Aye, cold baaad. ;-) I'd WANT to die…really badly. :-D Hehehe. Thanks, my friend!

Dead-Girls-Watch – Thank you, my friend. :-) I'm gratified to have my friends follow this as you do. Means a bunch! Hope to read another great by you soon!

Zarah – Wow, lotsa Celestine's where you are, eh? Kewl! Hehehe…as for Immy, yeah…a spanking. ;-) *gets gleam in eye* :-D That wasn't out loud. Thank you very much for the reviews. It means a bunch!! :-D

Lady of Light – I'm not trying to convey morals or tell everyone my personal beliefs. I fully realize women have guts, but tell me, what do you think Evy is supposed to be doing? She is with an immortal being that is physically stronger than any man on earth and it is a fact that most of the male variety are in fact physically stronger. What is she supposed to do against him, exactly? She supposed to catch Imhotep unaware and beat him up, then beat up all the jackals and run? She escaped once and is repeatedly mouthy to Imhotep…but hey, if that's wimpy to you what can I say? I don't think it's that unreal for a woman who's been abused for two years by an individual who kills innocents and has supernatural abilities and strengths to show fear. You say she was tough in Mummy and she was, but that doesn't mean she wasn't afraid. Look at her face when those zombiefied townsfolk are chasing the car. Look at her when she awakens to find Imhotep holding her and kissing her. For pete's sake, she whimpered when she saw a rat on Anck beside her. And in TMR look at her face when she sees Imhotep awaken. That's fear. Does it make her weak? No, I don't think so. I think it makes her realistic. Think also of the time period in which she lives. Women back then weren't watching Roseanne or learning that hey, we don't have to put up with men's crap. They hadn't broken that far into equality…I mean in the 50's women were still doting little housewives and I'm not saying that this is how women should be treated or should allow themselves to be treated, but I'm not going to make her into something of today if it doesn't call for it. I'm not sure what else I can say except if you don't like it, you don't have to read it. I'm not gonna argue over reviews/chapters about this. You can keep reviewing if you want, it adds to my review count, but I will not sit here and yap across the fence about this. Why didn't I portray her as a feminist? Because I chose not to. Is the Protagonist going to defeat the antagonist or vise versa soon? I can't say, as it would be giving away the plot. I take it you wouldn't be here for a sequel? ;-)